Wild Horses Read Free Page A

behind.”
    She did, immediately, in one fluid movement.
She was beautifully curved. If her skin wasn’t perfect, her figure
was, especially from this angle. There didn't appear to be a ripple
of excess flesh on her tightly drawn ass cheeks. She glanced up at
me, through the cam, her head turning, so she could see.
    “You want me to use my sex toy?” she
asked.
    The thought that occurred to me,
instantaneously, surprised me. You came to this site to see exactly
this. To type in commands, and to ask the girls to do what you
wanted. You came to beat off and to cum, and then log out,
hopefully as quickly as you could. You came for quick
gratification, and immediate satisfaction.
    “No,” I wrote. “Turn over. I will just admire
you for a little while, before I go.”
    “Oh, you are so sweet,” she purred.
    I didn't jerk off that time. I had intended
to. But I didn't. I closed the laptop and rose from my desk chair.
Outside it was dark and cold. I wondered what it was like in the
Czech Republic, or Slovakia, or wherever she was. It occurred to me
that she might be anywhere in Eastern Europe. She didn't have to
give me, or anyone else, an authentic location, any more than she
needed to provide a real name. And “sweetgirl34” was certainly not
her real name! I walked to the fridge and opened a beer. She was
still on my mind as I drank it. This was irrational now! I went
into the lounge room end collapsed onto the leather sofa, reaching
for the television remote as I did so. Maybe the Friday night
football game will take my mind off her, I reasoned with myself. It
didn’t. I fell asleep, with a vision of her naked, on her bed,
fixed in my mind’s eye.
6
    It was the next time I saw her, online of
course, that I realized this was becoming something quite different
to that which it had been, at the start, at least for me.
    “Hi again,” she called, as we entered private
chat. It was the now familiar greeting, with the now longed for
smile, and the brief little laugh that normally followed it.
    “Hi,” I wrote.
    “You can talk now, on your cam?” she
asked.
    “Not tonight,” I wrote. “Next time.”
    “Okay.”
    It was the familiar reason – Paula was
somewhere nearby, not asleep. I think reading in the lounge room,
and she could walk into the study at any moment. She rarely did,
for we rarely spoke, unless we really had to. Nonetheless, it was a
possibility.
    “So. You want me to get naked now?” she
asked.
    “Yes.” Of course!
    She did.
    “Where are you from?” she asked suddenly. She
was lying on the pink sheets, on top of her bed, somewhere in
Eastern Europe, and, quite suddenly, she wanted to know where I was
from. It was a stalling tactic, I decided. I was paying by the
minute. It probably was her stalling, to run the clock down, as
they would say at a football game. But I didn't care!
     
    “I’m in Australia.”
    “Really. I thought you were English maybe,”
she answered.
    “I’m Australian English,” I wrote.
    She laughed.
    “We're all six foot tall and bronzed and
athletic,” I wrote, smiling as I wrote it.
    This got a burst of laughter.
    “Except me,” I added.
    More laughter.
    “Well I don't know what six foot tall is,”
she said, “we have meters.”
    “We too,” I typed. “It's 1.8 meters.”
    “Oh. I’m 1.7. So we are nearly the same
tall.”
    I smiled at the grammar.
    “How old are you?” she enquired.
    “40.” It was a lie. I was 46. But what were
six years between online friends?
    “You are so nice,” she was saying, dreamily.
I guess it beat the hell out of what she was really paid to do, I
thought, just sitting there on the bed, yes naked, but not actually
doing anything. And certainly not anything nasty. Nothing kinky.
Nothing painful. My toes curled at the thought of some of the
things girls on this site offered to do for their clients.
    “I will come online tomorrow maybe and we can
talk more,” I wrote.
    “Sure. Thank you. Thank you, baby, so
much.”
    She