WARNING: Masturbation sequence below. Get used to it guys...that's the basis for the first part of this story. I'll let you in though...this is the last big masturbation scene. Then we're moving onto bigger and better things. ENJOY.
She couldn't believe she'd done it. She had actually gone through with it! After looking to the camera and saying her final words, Sarah exhaled. She got up and walked out of the room moments after she'd finished, and had spent the next ten minutes going back and forth between embarrassment, disbelief, and the odd sense of exhilaration that had remained after so openly touching herself for her corporate-raider-no-name-guy.
Knowing his eyes had been on her had excited her more than anything ever had. Starting out, she didn't think she'd be able to actually do it. But oh, had she done it. And once she let go of her worries and fears, once she'd forgotten about everything else but his eyes on her body, it had been sinfully easy. And deliciously naughty.
To her surprise, she didn't feel like changing into comfy pajamas afterward, so she opted to sleep naked. She woke up the next morning feeling free. Her energy levels were at an all-time high, so she decided to utilize the gym that was in the garage, per Ericka's suggestion several days ago.
After her hour run on the treadmill and a brief weight lifting routine, Sarah took a quick shower, her worries about him seeing her outside the webcam diminishing. In fact, since she'd been here, she didn't see any other cameras around the house like Ericka cautioned. Perhaps they were outside?
Once she was done showering, she put on only a pair of white cotton panties and a strappy yellow cami to head down to the kitchen where she consumed some coffee and a bowl of cereal while looking out at the peaceful white snow, then headed straight for the computer to see if she had gotten any replies regarding her prospective jobs and was surprised that she didn't feel anxious or anything as she went near it. When she opened her Gmail account, she saw two unread messages, both of which were responses from a couple of studios she had sent her resume to yesterday.
Sarah felt her stomach turning and let out a nervous sigh before opening the first message, only to immediately frown. The first response was a huge let-down; she didn't even get the opportunity to discuss anything further. She'd already been rebuffed. She could feel her heart sink at the rejection and assumed the second email would prove to be disappointing as well, so rather than read it, she deleted the unread message. She sank into the chair and looked up to the ceiling, wishing everything in her life could have gone differently.
If only her mom hadn't gotten sick; if only her dad and Irene had helped out more; if only she had stayed in her job at the news studio all those years ago….then maybe she'd actually have a career in being a news anchor like she dreamt of and wouldn't currently be wishing that her life was different.
"It isn't fair," she muttered to herself, succumbing once again to self-pity.
She closed her eyes and gulped, trying to not to cry and feel sorry for herself. Sure life had thrown a wrench in all her plans, but she also hadn't done much to change things. Until now, that is. She was here to sort her shit out, and she'd be damned if she gave up this soon. Hell, she figured if she could beat a magical Labyrinth at fifteen, then figuring out life should be a piece of cake. Right?
Speaking of Labyrinth…Sarah's mind again wandered back to that night and she couldn't help but smile at the memory of the whole ordeal. She thought of Hoggle, Ludo, Sir Didymus…even Jareth. She wondered what he was doing right now. What all of them were doing. She still didn't have the guts to call on any of them. She was too embarrassed. What's more…she didn't understand why Jareth had been on her mind lately, and she was still weirded out that she'd yelled out for him the other night as she masturbated. She felt her eyebrows furrow at the thought, and tried to not think about it, for every time she did a strange feeling crept up on her back.
Just then, the rumble of a large vehicle suddenly cut through Sarah's concentration, forcing her to abandon thoughts of Jareth for the moment. Was someone arriving here? Must be, she presumed, given that the house was located at the end of a long driveway, several hundred feet off the winding mountain road. This was the first vehicle she'd heard since her own arrival.
She hopped to her feet, rushed to the door, and glanced out the narrow panel of glass beside it to see a standard-issue white delivery truck. She was waiting to see what on earth was coming for "Isolar," and happened to glance down at her top and noticed her nipples pointing prominently through her top just thinking about him. And damnit- that's when she also noticed she only had panties on below, which she'd totally forgotten about.
"Shit!"
She dashed for the stairs, jogging towards the guest bedroom. She grabbed the first pair of pajama shorts she found, put them on, and ran back downstairs when the doorbell rang. She opened the door to find a young man on the other side smiling at her.
"Sarah Williams?" he asked.
She flinched. She'd been sure this would be for something for her voyeur. Who knew she was here?
Wait. Ericka, of course. Which made the pieces fit. Ericka was probably sending her a care package or something.
"Yes, that's me," Sarah finally said.
He handed her a shiny black box sporting an even shinier thick black ribbon. Confusion took over Sarah's face and that's when she looked around the man and at the delivery truck again, only to see that it said The Pleasure Chest on the passenger door.
Damnit, Ericka.
Sarah bit her lip and looked back to the young man. She blushed, since they clearly both knew something designed for sex was inside.
"Thanks," she murmured, embarrassment overriding any thoughts of a tip, then practically slammed the door in his face, turning the lock. After which she headed to the couch where she had so brazenly touched herself for her stranger last night.
Well, apparently Ericka was downright determined for Sarah to see some action on this trip. If only her friend knew about the unexpected – not to mention bizarre – action that had occurred. Not that Ericka would ever find out. They were best friends, sure, but something about this felt way too private and awkward.
She let out a sigh. Extracting her arms, she pulled at the black ribbon to untie the titillating package. Inside, atop black tissue paper lay a white card.
For tonight. Ten o'clock. Don't be late, precious.
Oh God. It wasn't from Ericka. It was from him! Swallowing her shock, she cautiously folded back the tissue paper, gasping at what she saw inside. A black velvet corset. Black lace-top stockings. And a purple vibrator shaped like a penis, the likes of which she'd seen, only on the one occasion Ericka had dragged her into a sex shop.
"Oh. My. God," she said out loud.
Without another thought, she set the box aside and shot to her feet, and took the few short steps to the computer. He'd told her to change her screen name, so she pulled up her usual IM identity – which she mostly used with Ericka – LadyStardust.
LadyStardust: Are you there? We need to talk.
She wasn't sure yet exactly what she was going to say to him, but it leaned towards letting him know he'd gone too far, and wondering how the hell he'd gotten the package to her so quickly, and telling him she was not going to…to… use a sexual device while he watched!
Isolar76: Good Morning, precious. Long time, no see. Love the new screen name, by the way.
LadyStardust: Yeah, thanks. Look, like I said, I need to talk to you about something.
Isolar76: I'm all ears.
LadyStardust: I just got a pretty embarrassing delivery from some place called The Pleasure Chest. Want to fill me in on that?
Isolar76: I'd love to fill you in every way.
Sarah gulped. Damn him and his ridiculous seductive ways! She told herself to focus.
LadyStardust: I'm serious. What is this about? And how the hell did you get it here so quickly?
Isolar76: Simple, really. An online catalog for a place in Denver, and a phone call. It's called same-day delivery, love.
Love? Now he was calling her love? What was he, British? If so, Ericka most definitely forgot to mention that little tidbit. She knew how much Sarah loved Brits.
LadyStardust: That usually costs an arm and a leg.
Isolar76: I have a lot of money. What did you think of the gift?
She hesitated. A minute ago she'd been overcome with a sense of urgency, ready to yell at him for this, but now, faced with the opportunity, she wasn't quite sure what she wanted to say.
LadyStardust: I was…shocked.
Isolar76: Why?
LadyStardust: I've never… I've never really done THAT before.
Isolar76: Really? You've never used a sex toy?
LadyStardust: No…
Isolar76: Well, now I'm even happier I got it for you.
Sarah scoffed.
LadyStardust: Why do you consider a vibrator so vital to my existence?
Isolar76: Because you're a very sexual person.
She blinked at the monitor screen, shocked and annoyed.
LadyStardust: How do YOU know?
Isolar76: You can't be serious.
She let out a sigh.
LadyStardust: Fine. But I told you last night, I'm not usually like that. I don't do those things.
Isolar76: You do now. And you're beautiful touching yourself. I barely managed to wait until you came before I did. And that's not a problem I generally have.
Alright. That was it. Time to get down to business. She'd just made a decision; she was smart, sensible, and conservative, despite the fact that she worked at a strip club. Sure she wasn't necessarily a prim goody-two-shoes who wore turtlenecks and insisted on dating a guy forever before sleeping with him – not anything extreme or exorbitant. But she was simply an even-keeled, middle-of-the-road woman who didn't go to the other extreme either, hence why she never actually went through with stripping. And last night had been inexplicably extreme for her. It was time to get back to normal here.
LadyStardust: I can't keep doing this.
Isolar76: Why not?
LadyStardust: Because it's so…dirty. And I don't even know you.
Isolar76: You're getting to know me.
LadyStardust: I don't even know your name.
Isolar76: Would you like to know it?
Sarah shook her head and scoffed; of course she wanted to know it!
LadyStardust: Uh, yeah. That might be helpful.
Isolar76: How about we play a game?
LadyStardust: I thought we had been.
Isolar76: I'll tell you my name. On one condition.
LadyStardust: What's that?
Isolar76: I want to see you use the toy I sent you.
Sarah's mouth fell open. She couldn't believe this guy! He was going to do this, seriously? She didn't want to know his name that bad!
LadyStardust: Forget that! You want me to use that purple vibrator and have you watch all so I can know your name? Yeah, no.
Isolar76: Is that so odd? You've already masturbated for me twice now. And once willingly. I don't see how this is any different.
LadyStardust: I don't even know you! How many times do I have say it?
Isolar76: And yet you want me.
True enough. Her pussy was pulsing again just from IMing with him like this. A guy she couldn't even see, or hear, let alone touch. And damn it, she'd just thought of that part of her body as her pussy again. What was happening to her? If she really wanted this to end, that would be a good place to start. In fact, maybe she should just quit thinking about that part of herself period.
When she still hadn't replied to him a minute later, he sent another message.
Isolar76: I want you too. I want to see you come again. By using the toy I sent you.
Dear God. The very idea of that was…unfathomable. Still, she didn't answer. Simply because she had no idea how to respond to such a raw, intimate request.
Isolar76: See you tonight, precious. I know you won't let me down.
Sarah watched him sign off. What arrogance! He was so sure of himself, so sure of her too. She couldn't help but roll her eyes at the computer. Well, he had another thing coming.
"I hate you," she whispered to the computer screen, even knowing he could no longer see or hear her. Which was probably why she said it – since she didn't really hate him. Far from it, really. She was…intrigued by him. Had a strange crush on him. Felt bizarrely lured in by him. It was the last one that scared her – how did this guy make her want to do these shocking out-of-character things? Why did she want to please him so much?
She glanced over her shoulder to the bookshelves where the photo she assumed was of him sat. Was it just because he had a sense of familiarity about himself? The thought unnerved her. She knew if she thought deep down he was not attractive she wouldn't keep perpetuating this. In fact, she probably would have packed up and left by now, out of sheer horror over revealing so much of herself to someone she'd never even met. But there was a lot to be said for chemistry. And if it was possible to feel this much chemistry with someone so far away, that counted for something, right?
You're just trying to justify this somehow, make yourself feel better about it.
She eyed the gifts, the velvet draped over the edge of the box still on the sofa, the fake purple penis jutting up from the tissue paper. Why did it have to be PURPLE for God's sake? And shaped so realistically like a freaking penis? Somehow that made the gift all the more blunt, all the more in-your-face.
Sighing, Sarah left the computer only to go to her bedroom where she decided that reading would take her mind off things. So that's what she did for the next several hours; she didn't think about Isolar, the purple penis, the Labyrinth, her friends or Jareth.
As dusk began to color the snow beyond the window in her bedroom, Sarah put her book down when she realized how late it was getting and how hungry she'd gotten. Reading had relaxed her, and she told herself tomorrow she'd do some more job hunting since today was a bust on that. When she got up to the leave the room, her mind was forced back to the gift that was still on the couch, taunting her.
Did he really think she was going to use that toy in front of him? Given that she'd never even used such a thing by herself, for heaven's sake. Even if she wanted to, trying out such a thing on camera just seemed like a bad idea.
So she'd ignore the gift, she decided. And the clock tonight, too. Clocks had always been her enemy, she reminded herself. Ten would come and go without consequence, and her voyeur would be forced to see that she simply wasn't into this any longer. She might have seemed into it the past two nights, but that shocking purple monstrosity had brought her back to her senses.
Having thawed a hamburger patty, Sarah turned on a little music – a New Wave station – then made herself a simple dinner. As she sat in front of the fire, eating her meal and drinking a glass of red wine, Behind the Wheel by Depeche Mode came on.
Come
Pull my strings
Watch me move
I do anything
Please
Sweet little girl
I prefer
You behind the wheel
And me the passenger
Drive
I'm yours to keep
Do what you want
I'm going cheap
As she found herself humming along to the song, she couldn't help but notice the underlying sexuality of the lyrics and how it somewhat paralleled her situation. Should she allow herself to dominate his thoughts again tonight?
"Nope, no way," Sarah said. "This has gone far enough. It stops now."
Standing up to clear her plate, she sighed at how fidgety she suddenly felt. Though, she supposed that could have been the wine taking over. When she began to walk back to her bedroom, she stopped to look – once again – at the corset that was still laying on the couch. She'd been so distressed over it earlier that she hadn't really seen it, hadn't let herself study the details, but now she couldn't help but admire how soft yet sophisticated it appeared.
It came with minuscule velvet panties, and the corset itself had a back that laced up with thick black satin ribbons, which meant, she supposed, that one size fit all. She couldn't help but wonder how she'd look in such a lush piece of lingerie. She owned plenty of pretty bras and panties and a baby-doll nightie or two, but she'd never worn anything that at once looked so glamorous yet sexual.
So maybe she'd just try it on. Simply to see what it looked like. For her own benefit and no one else's. Grabbing the corset and box, she hastily hurried to her bedroom.
The view stunned her when she finally had it on. The velvet molded to her curves deliciously and plumped her breasts even further than the red lace bra had, making them look round and voluptuous. The press of the corset against them delivered the delightfully naughty sensation that they were about to bust free. The velvet G-string felt just as snug over her pussy and trailing down the center of her ass, and the black stockings made her legs look even longer and leaner than they already were. She'd never seen herself appear so utterly and wholly sexual.
But the look wasn't quite complete. On impulse, she moved to the dresser where she kept her hair clip and used it to gather her wavy locks back up atop her head, leaving only a few loose tendrils to curve around her face.
There, she thought, peering back in the mirror. That finished the image. She drew in her breath at the vague wish that Isolar could see how she looked in the corset. He'd picked it out for her, after all. He'd shown her this vision of herself she'd never have seen otherwise.
Maybe she could show him. He'd already seen all of her there was to see, and this covered more than her bra and panties had last night, so where was the sin in that? Though, she was sure he'd expect her to take it off. And use that damn toy. She glanced at the purple vibrator, lying by itself in the box now. She couldn't do it. She wouldn't even know how to go about it.
Yet curiosity was taking over. She bit her lower lip and cautiously approached the fake cock. She made herself pick it up, scolding herself internally. It's just a chunk of rubber, not a real penis, Sarah.
The vibrator was of medium size, nothing outrageous – 7 inches or so – and the head was smooth and rounded, the shaft sturdy and thick, even sporting slightly raised veins along the length. She felt torn between thinking it ridiculous and realizing that it was making her want the real thing.
She gingerly twisted the knob on the end to start the buzzing vibrations – batteries had been included, how thoughtful. Maybe she would experiment with it. She knew Ericka indulged in such toys. Maybe now, in the privacy of her own bedroom, she'd see what it was all about. In fact, maybe having an orgasm WITHOUT "Isolar" involved would be just as satisfying – minus all the weirdness. She'd come here to let a change of scenery inspire her creativity, not to let a strange man persuade her into hedonistic acts over the computer.
Nodding her head in confidence, she soon found herself exiting the bedroom, still in the corset and panties, still carrying the purple vibrator. She didn't know why and she didn't ponder it. All she knew was she needed some more wine and to turn off the sound system – ready for some quiet time. She set the vibrator on the counter in order to pour herself another glass of Cabernet. When she took a sip, she realized every part of her body had grown swollen and heavy. With desire, definitely.
Why the hell was she carrying the damn penis around with her! With a forlorn sigh, she transported the vibrator to the living room and tucked it between the couch cushions. Out of sight out of mind. So much for experimenting with it. She returned to the kitchen for the bottle of wine and her glass, then settled on the couch. She peered out into the snow, although darkness now made it so that she could discern only a vague line between ground and sky. Given what she wore, she found herself envisioning a romantic evening with a lover. A normal romantic evening. With a normal lover. The kind who was actually in the room with her. The attire was right. As was the low lighting and the fire. The wine, too. The only missing was the man.
She glanced at the crack between the couch cushions. Could she? Did she want to? Predictably nervous now, she drank more wine – two more glasses. She listened to the silence. She lay back and closed her eyes.
Some time later, she opened them again to darkness. She'd fallen asleep. Her eyes focused immediately on the mantel clock in the still dimly lit room. Five 'til ten. She sighed. Sat up. Poured another glass of wine. She swiftly drank the glass and found herself looking over at the computer. Biting her lip, she walked over to it.
"Are you there?" she asked. But she somehow knew he was, could almost feel his presence, his eyes, from hundreds of miles away.
"I'm not sure why I'm here," she told him frankly. "Just like last night, I had no intention of doing this. Yet here I am."
She swallowed at the realization, at the bluntness of their connection, distance be damned.
"Does it make you feel powerful that I'm here, wearing this for you? Does it make you feel like I can't resist you even though I have no idea who you are, or have never met you? Or does it just make you think I can't resist the lure of the forbidden?"
She sighed. "Maybe I can't resist anything. Or maybe I'm only here because I've been drinking, who knows. The thing is…if I'm going to fool around with you, well…I wish it was you I was fooling around with, not this…camera. Maybe that made it easier at first – the distance. But now it feels too distant."
Too distant, and yet…just like the previous evening, she wanted to excite him. Whatever it took. Exciting him excited her. So she lifted her hands and smoothed them over the velvet that held her breasts.
"I wish my hands were your hands," she said softly as pleasure from the touch echoed through her in gentle ripples. She squeezed her breasts fully, aware of the hot ache it created and that the move pushed their rounded curves even higher.
"Do you like the way I look in this?" she asked, then admitted, "I do. I don't think I've ever felt sexier in my life. Maybe that's why I'm here – I wanted to show you."
She lightly pinched her nipples through the velvet.
"Would you run your hands all over my body?" she questioned, gliding her palms down over her velvet-clad torso, her hips, then her thighs and the lace tops of her stockings.
"Would you part my legs?" She used her hands, splayed over her inner thighs, to spread them wide, then wider.
"Would you touch my pussy?" She dragged one long middle finger up the velvet that enclosed her mound, then shivered from the sensation. Having his eyes on her heightened every little frisson of pleasure.
"You'd take off my panties," she told him, and leaned back on the couch, legs together, lifting her ass just enough to peel down the tiny swatch of velvet. She let it linger high on her thighs, her legs raised upright, remembering this was a show – all visual – so she had to make it slow, make it good. Leisurely, she hooked her thumbs into the elastic band and pushed it painstakingly toward her bent knees. When the thong dropped to her ankles, she gently kicked it off, then looked back to the camera.
"You want to see my pussy again," she said with surprising boldness. "And I want to show it to you."
Sitting back up on the sofa and lowering her feet to the floor, she parted her legs as widely as she could. She felt herself opening for him and knew he could see how excited she was to be on display for him again.
"You want to touch it," she whispered. "You want to touch me where I'm wet and aching for you." She raked two fingers through her folds to end up circling her clit, then sighed at the saturating delight and said, "God, I want it to be your hands on me, stroking me, rubbing me."
She kept caressing herself, heard her breath grow labored and wanted desperately to hear his, too. Her fingers grew wet with her desire, and she began to long for something else. Someone else. Him. Jareth.
His hands – touching her.
His mouth – kissing her.
His cock – inside her.
She wasn't sure when or why her mind had taken her to thoughts of Jareth again. Maybe it was because Isolar continuously called her precious, reminding her of him; maybe it was because he was blonde, and so was Jareth; maybe because ever since she cried out for him the other night she couldn't help but use his image for whoever was on the other side of that webcam.
She didn't understand her sudden and questionable longing for her nemesis. But no matter- she shut her eyes, still moving her fingers over the little nub that was the source of her pleasure. But she continued aching for more. What would she look like with the toy inside her? What would it feel like to pleasure herself like that – for him?
Her lips trembled, and her nether regions quaked with need. Her fingers were no longer enough. So with her free hand she reached down, digging between the soft cushions, until finally her fist closed around the thick vibrator. Her breath grew shaky as she extracted it, knowing he saw, knowing he knew what she was about to do.
Could she?
Yes. She could.
Jareth's lungs threatened to explode in his chest. As beautiful and hot and arousing as she was, he'd been starting to think she wasn't going to use the vibrator. And that would have been just fine – he loved watching her no matter what she was doing, and seeing her touch her lovely pink pussy was ample entertainment. But now that she had the toy in her dainty hand, it was all he could do not to come.
"Gods, you're amazing, precious," he whispered toward the computer screen, wishing she could hear him.
"I'm not sure how to do this," she said, her voice trembling as she leaned back on the couch, legs still parted, beginning to drag the tip of the toy up the center of her cunt. Jareth seldom felt tender or emotional when it came to women or sex, yet her sweet honesty about her lack of such experience was almost enough to paralyze him. She'd made herself vulnerable on his account, laid her soul bare for him. Just like he wanted.
"Just go easy, precious," he prodded, even though she couldn't hear his instructions. "Go easy and make yourself feel good."
He listened to her breathing as she used the vibrator like a large finger, raking it through her slickness over and again.
"That's right, Sarah," he growled.
Her eyes fell shut, her lips parting in desire. He understood she was taking her time, getting acquainted with the way it felt against her flesh, and was more than happy to be patient. He sat shirtless, in a pair of his unzipped leather pants, listening to the lull of the tide out the window behind him, yet still able to discern every soft sigh and moan from Sarah.
"Come on, precious, do it for me. Show me how brave and sexy you are."
Almost as if she'd heard his throaty pleas, she bit her lower lip and began to ease the head of the toy cock against her opening. Jareth almost couldn't breathe. She moaned softly as the head gained entry and so did he.
"Ugh," she groaned. "God, I want this to be you."
So did he. Wanted to sink his shaft so deep inside her, feel her tight moisture encasing him. And she'd be tight – he knew she would be.
He continued to watch, throat clogged with arousal, as she began to move the toy in and out of her beautiful cunt.
"Fuck, Sarah," he said, his gaze riveted on her every move. Her body was fully open to it now and looked incredible taking it inside. He couldn't resist closing his fist around his own cock again, beginning to tug in firm, even strokes as he wished it were the one gliding so smoothly in and out of Sarah's pussy.
"I'm imagining it's you," she said on a hot, high whimper of pleasure. "I'm imagining that you're fucking me."
The sex toy went in all the way now. She fucked herself harder, and he worked his dick just as hard, matching the rhythm of her thrusts.
"Ugh, yeah, you're fucking me," she told him again, eyes shut, face wrenched in passion. "You're fucking me, Jareth."
He went still. She'd said his name. Again. Though the last time was before he'd even contacted her, which was odd enough, but he was thrilled to know she had been thinking of him, random as it may have been. Did she truly know it was him all of a sudden? Had he made it that obvious during their chats? Surely not. Somehow he got the impression she wasn't even aware she said his name just now. She's quite lucky it's been him she's been speaking with, otherwise that would have been very insulting.
A victorious smile formed on his face. Sarah wanted him, not just some imaginary stranger who she thought she'd been speaking to. Even if she didn't know it. The thought excited him to no end, making him continue his ministrations and he knew he'd have to come to her in person sooner than later.
"That's right, precious, I am. I'm fucking that perfect pink pussy, fucking you so hard."
He watched her mounting passion, listened to her high-pitched moans, let himself get lost in the sight, the sounds. Don't stop. Keep going. He kept stroking, and when he felt the blood gathering, felt his balls getting tighter and tighter, he said, "Come for me, Sarah."
And then, like an answer to a dirty prayer, she let out a hot, thready breath and began to sob. The anguish on her face softened to pure ecstasy as she moaned her orgasm and he too let go, pumping his white semen all over his hand. He clenched his teeth to ride it out. Then came back to earth in time to watch her let the toy fall to the floor and slowly close her legs.
She peered into the camera, clearly stunned by her own actions. She shut her eyes, shook her head, drew her legs up under her on the couch.
"This isn't me," she whispered. "This isn't me at all." Then she pushed to her feet and walked to the light switch, and the next thing he knew, the screen went black – first the lights extinguished, then the fireplace went dark. She'd run away from him merely by turning out the lights.
Oh, precious. I want to hold you. Make you feel better. I want to make you know this is okay.
He knew he had to come to her soon.
It was just after eight am when Sarah woke up the next morning, staring at the ceiling in bed. She slept great, but still suffered the same sense of revulsion as she had last night. She couldn't believe she'd done it. She'd used the purple penis. In front of him.
Arousal was like drunkenness, she thought. The moment you got sober you couldn't make sense of what you'd done under the influence. And this, now, was the hangover.
Her thoughts then swayed to a horrific idea: what if he had been watching with friends? What if he was showing a bunch of people everything she'd done? Oh God.
As it was, the musings propelled her up and out of bed in a flash, down to the computer. She pulled up an IM box as fast as her fingers could click and type.
LadyStardust: Promise and swear to me this is private.
A moment later, his answer arrived.
Isolar76: What are you talking about, precious? Good morning, by the way.
She took a deep breath and lectured herself. Try to sound at least a little bit rational. Don't act like a total nutcase.
LadyStardust: I just. I woke up with a terrifying thought. That you're the sort of creep who might do something really awful to me.
Yep. Totally rational.
Isolar76: I don't quite understand what you're getting at, but before we go on, I have to tell you that you were beautiful and hot and incredible last night, and I hate that you felt badly afterward.
Sarah sighed. Okay, hopefully this meant he wasn't out selling sex tapes of her.
LadyStardust: I just had this horrible picture in my head – you sitting and watching me…with a roomful of friends.
Isolar76: I would never do that to you. Why would you think such a thing?
LadyStardust: Perhaps this would be an appropriate time for me to remind you that I DON'T KNOW YOU. AT ALL. Which reminds me…you owe me your damn name.
Isolar76: Come now, precious. I think it's safe to say you know me, at least a little bit better by now. And you can trust me. I promise. This is just between you and me – completely private. I wish I could be there with you, so you could look into my eyes, and then you'd know I'm telling the truth. I also wish I could be there last night when you seemed upset at the end.
The truth. Hah! The last time Sarah thought she knew truth versus a lie, she fell down into an oubliette.
LadyStardust: Look, that's all nice and everything I guess, but I still don't know you. And why are you avoiding telling me your name? That was the deal we made.
Sarah sighed in exasperation as she waited for a response. When one didn't come nearly seven minutes later she was getting rather pissed. She thought this was pretty simple. Why was he playing so hard to get? This asshole.
LadyStardust: Let me make this as plain as I can. I've done things in front of you that I've never done in front of ANYONE. Extremely INTIMATE things. And I don't know you. A little, maybe. But not really. This is not the kind of person I am. Yet I did everything regardless, and you said you'd tell me your name yesterday so please…stop with the games.
Isolar76: Why does my name matter if you're suddenly against all of this? If you're ready and willing to stop?
LadyStardust: Because it matters! Jesus Christ, what is wrong with you? I'm appalled at what I did last night and I want you to leave me alone for the rest of my time here if you can't tell me who are you.
His answer took longer than normal, but when it was typical of him.
Isolar76: You didn't seem appalled while you were doing it.
She let out a sigh of disgust and didn't care if he heard her this time.
LadyStardust: It's so unfair that this stupid camera only works one way. And for your information, I AM APPALLED at myself. Last night went too far, and it was all for nothing anyway since you're being a bastard now. This won't happen again.
Isolar76: What size shoe do you wear?
Sarah blinked at the screen in utter disbelief. Here they were, discussing shared sexual depravities, and was asking what shoe size she wore? What the…
LadyStardust: Why on earth do you want to know?
Isolar76: Humor me.
LadyStardust: No. I don't need you sending me a pair of heels that you intend on watching me put me on or something.
Isolar76: Oh, Sarah. Don't defy me.
Sarah sucked in her breath as she stared at the screen. There it was again; that feeling of familiarity and she was beginning to have déjà vu. Her hands trembled. It couldn't be. There was absolutely no way.
LadyStardust: I'm leaving. I'm done. I can't do this anymore. I want nothing more to do with you, got it?
Isolar76: Do you really want to know my name, Sarah?
Scoffing, Sarah rolled her eyes.
LadyStardust: YES!
Isolar76: You already know it. In fact…you've said it twice now since you've been there. Each time you made yourself come, you'd yell it out.
Her whole body was beginning to shake. What...?
"No," she said, shaking her head. "No fucking way." It couldn't be...
Isolar76: Oh, yes, Sarah-mine. You know deep down who I am. I think you've known this whole time but didn't want to believe it.
Sarah stood up and shoved the chair out and away from her. Panting, she turned away from the computer and walked towards her bedroom to pack her shit and leave. There was just absolutely, unequivocally no way, it was...
The house phone rang just then. She flinched- the phone hadn't rung once since her arrival, and she'd thought this particular device only served as a decoration; she'd never dreamed the thing actually worked. Her nostrils flared, and she was almost certain it was him calling, but she refused to admit the actual possibility of that happening. She hesitated as the phone kept ringing, and then decided it could be Ericka. That was plausible, right?
She stared at the phone in the living room, then cast a slow glance back to the computer. Taking a deep breath, she reached for the phone. "He...hello?"
"Hello, precious. I think it's time we finally had an actual conversation. Do not hang up."
AN: Dun dun dunnnn! So yeah, that just happened. They're finally almost to the point of meeting in person, but not JUST yet.
I chose LadyStardust for Sarah's IM name because 1) I love that song by David Bowie and 2) It just seemed to fit. Not super original but whatever.
The song featured in this chapter is (obviously, as I mentioned) Behind the Wheel by Depeche Mode. I'm seeing them next month andddddd I can't wait! They're amazing. Listen to the song if you can ;)
I can't say I blame Sarah for feeling so torn about everything. Like in one breath, the whole act of what she's doing is exhilarating and hot. Then you realize wow that was actually pretty dirty and now I feel awful about myself. But we don't often think about things in the moment when we're beyond horny. Ya know? So it's natural for her to keep going and forth between feeling wrong and right about masturbating for who she thinks is a stranger. Yet clearly she's wishing it to be someone specific...
I wonder how their phone convo will go! We'll see ;)
Next chapter may be a bit shorter than this one, so just giving you guys a heads up now. Please review!