When we started chatting on AM, he told me his name was Joe. I had no reason not to believe him, even though it's pretty common for men to use a fake name to begin with. Whatever. We sent messages back and forth on AM for a few days and then we moved to email for a couple of weeks. He didn't seem to be in a hurry for a meeting, so I decided I could lay back, too, for awhile.
I thoroughly enjoyed our conversations and chats. He was smart and very funny. He didn't send any photos, but that didn't matter to me. The friendship that was developing was fun. Of course, he had seen photos of me, but I didn't think anything of it until one day my little chat window popped up and it was him.
"I hope you don't get mad at me, but I need to tell you something," he said.
"O.k., shoot," I replied.
After a pause, he wrote, "I know who you are."
At first I felt a bit nervous, but then I realized that I had already decided that he was a trustworthy guy. I was sure it would be fine.
"O.k.," I said. "How do you know me?"
He went on to explain that we hadn't really met, but he knew who I was and we knew a lot of the same people. Then he told me how he knew me, and yes, he knew exactly who I was. For a moment I cringed thinking about how shocked he must have been to get that topless photo and realize, "Whoa! I know that woman!"
Then he said he wanted to get together.
"But don't I get to know who you are?" I asked.
"You'll know when you see me," he said.
Oh my god, I thought. Is this one of Hubby's friends? A client? A neighbor? UGH!!!
I tried to get more information out of him, but it was useless. He wasn't going to share anything except in person. He wanted to meet at an out of the way place in the country, about 45 minutes away.
"Uh, no," I told him. "There's no way I'm meeting someone whose name I don't even know out in the middle of nowhere - alone. Sorry."
Then the negotiations began. I suggested a place. Too public. He suggested a place. Too isolated. He assured me that I would feel safe as soon as I saw him and recognized who he was.
"Sure," I said. "That's what all the ax murderers say." He laughed. That was good. We finally agreed to meet at a Catholic church near that isolated spot he had first suggested. We'd meet in the church, which was open during the day. There would likely be someone there, so we wouldn't talk. If, after I saw him, I felt safe, we'd leave separately and go meet at the place in the country. It felt so much like a 007 mission that I had to laugh.
I got to the church first and went in. I picked out a pew about four rows from the door, genuflected, crossed myself, and took a seat. No, the irony was not lost on me. Married Catholic gal meeting in a church in the presence of the Eucharist before, potentially, going to have sex with a married man - and blessing herself. Note to self, I thought. Next time, don't pick a church.
Within a few minutes, I heard the door open behind me. I didn't turn to look around because I wouldn't do that if I had just stopped in for a moment of prayer. I waited. There were four other people in the church, spread out all over the place. Three were little old ladies. One was a man, but I was certain he wasn't the man I was meeting because I didn't recognize him, and Joe (or whatever-his-name-was) told me I would know him when I saw him.
I listened to the footsteps as the person who came in the door behind me stepped into the church and started walking up the aisle. I waited. Then I was nervous. I heard him step into the pew directly across the aisle from me and sit down. I slowly turned and looked.
As soon as I saw him I smiled and chuckled a bit, trying not to make any noise. He was right. I knew exactly who he was. You don't meet city councilmen on AM every day. He looked a little sheepish and then raised his eyebrows and tilted his head toward the door as if to say, "Ok? Can we go now?" I nodded yes. He left. Then, about 10 minutes later, I left, too.
For the few of you who know me and know where I live, let me tell you that I'm not going to tell you which city this councilman served. And because I am very committed to protecting his privacy, I can't share with any of you his age or what he looked like. I haven't seen him for a long time (before I met JJ), but I told him I would take his secret to the grave with me, and I will.
When I got to the place we agreed to meet, he was already there. His car was parked behind the barn, just like he said it would be, and it was empty, so I figured he was in the barn. I parked and walked in. I saw him arranging some hay bales (my first clue that he was very strong) into what looked like a makeshift bed. I watched him for about 30 seconds and, after he had spread the blanket over the "bed," I said, "Hi, Joe."
He turned and smiled. Then he said, "Do you see now why I was so reluctant to tell you."
"Well," I said. "There's reluctance and there's paranoia." I later would have the same conversation with webcam guy, but that's another story entirely.
He sat down on the hay bed and motioned for me to come over. As I sat down, he dragged and pushed another bale in front of us, opened a duffle bag he had with him, and spread out a table cloth. Then he pulled out some wine glasses and sparkling cider, and then some cheese, sliced apples, and grapes. Yeah, I can admit that I was impressed. This was nice. Definitely not a typical booty call.
We laughed and talked for about half an hour, enjoying each other's company and our little lunch. I was completely lost in the moment and having a great time, so even I was surprised that I was caught off guard when he took the glass out of my hand, set it on the ground, and leaned over to kiss me.
It was a perfect kiss. Truly perfect. He slid his hand up under my blouse and unhooked my bra easily.
I smiled into our kiss and said, "You've done this before."
"Once or twice," he answered, before silencing me with another kiss.
We undressed each other slowly, taking turns. My blouse. His shirt. My pants. His. My bra and panties. His shorts.
He leaned me back until I was laying down (FYI- even with a blanket, hay bales are hard and prickly) and then he climbed on top of me sliding his hands slowly all over my body as he kissed me, but avoiding the most sensitive places, the places that by then I really wanted him to touch.
Every now and then I'd open my eyes and think, "Holy shit! This is Councilman Joe. What the fuck am I doing?!?" But then he'd brush his hand across my pussy and kiss me harder and I'd get dizzy and forget about who he was.
Soon, he found my clit and started rubbing. I rocked my hips forward to press against his hand but he grabbed my hair tight and looked into my eyes sternly. "Don't move," he said. I couldn't nod my head to indicate assent, but I had a feeling I wasn't supposed to say anything either, so I just stopped moving and waited.
He went back to work. It didn't take long for me to get very close to orgasm. I'd start shaking and then he would stop and repeat that I was to be still. Then he'd start again. The third time he stopped, I growled, "If you want me to be still, quit doing that!" He yanked my hair again. "That's the Kat I've heard about," he laughed, "Saucy, spirited, and a bit annoying."
While he was talking, without warning, he entered me roughly, fully in one stroke. I gasped and squealed a bit, but his mouth was on mine in a split second to muffle the noise. He pulled back from the kiss and hissed, "Quiet!"
I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him into me and he fucked me very, very hard and slowly. He pulled back each stroke like a receding wave and then he thrust into me more forcefully each time. He turned his head away from my face, leaned over and bit my shoulder - HARD! I was about to tell him to stop because he'd leave a mark, but I started to cum. As I shook, he bit harder and that just turned me on more. I started bucking against him. He screamed when he came, which startled me a bit since he had seemed so obsessed with keeping me quiet, but there was no time to think about that. My orgasm started before his, lasted through his, and continued a few seconds beyond his.
When it was finished, he lifted his head and looked at me. "Oh my god!" I shouted.
His mouth and chin were covered with blood. He wiped at his mouth with his arm as we both turned and looked at my shoulder. "Jesus," he said. "I'm really sorry! Why didn't you stop me?!"
"Because I was coming,"I said, "and I liked it. And oh my god, how am I going to explain this?"
He grabbed a couple of napkins from the bag and pressed them on my shoulder, telling me to apply pressure. Then he pulled his pants on and left the barn. I stared up at the ceiling and noticed, for the first time, the beauty of the place. Streaks of afternoon sunlight were peeking through the roof. It was very clean, but still quaint and rustic. I wondered how he knew of this place and if he had brought other women here.
My thoughts were interrupted when he came back in with a first aide kit. He cleaned the wound, put on a bandage, taped it securely. I handed him a napkin and told him he might want to clean the blood off his face.
"You look like a vampire," I told him.
He laughed and said, "I've been called worse."
"The next time someone tells me that your bark is worse than your bite," I said, "I'm going to tell them 'No, it's not!' "
We laughed again and he lay back down next to me, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me close.
"I mean it," he whispered. "I'm really sorry."
I snuggled a little closer and didn't say anything for a while. I thought about how I would explain the wound on my shoulder that looked exactly like a human mouth. I came up with a plan...and then I felt a little better.
We relaxed and talked a while longer, but eventually it was time to go. We got dressed, cleaned up the picnic supplies, and put the hay bales back as they were before either of us had arrived. As I stood at the door and looked back as I was leaving, it didn't look like we had ever been there.
As we stood at my car, he asked when he'd see me again. I joked that I'd have to attend the next council meeting because there was some guy running around in the country biting women, and that had to be stopped.
"No, seriously," he said. There was that stern voice back again.
"You tell me," I answered.
"Next Tuesday, then. Noon?"
He kissed me quickly, a peck on my lips. He jogged around his car to the driver's side and then he looked back at me and said, "You bring lunch. And I'm going to taste other parts of you next time."