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by Tory McDaniels Your feet are aching by the time you reach the front door. Fumbling with your keys, you somehow manage to unlock the deadbolt just as the entire file you are carrying spills its contents on to the floor. You curse under your breath as you drop to your knees to gather what could very well be your career-saving project. At least it was until now. Nothing like spreading your client's entire portfolio across the entrance of your house to keep you in the good graces of their VP.
Gathering yourself, you move inside, relieved to be away from the outside world at last. Reaching down, you slip off the torturous heels that have been digging into your skin since you left the house this morning. Yeah but they make me look hot you think, smiling to yourself, ignoring the agony of your blisters. Reaching the kitchen you decide that a glass of wine will certainly be a most welcome start to the evening, and as you walk, or rather hobble, you try to decide on white or red. While you may be deeply enthralled with your choice, a full-bodied 1998 shiraz, your mind is most definitely elsewhere. You are floating somewhere above your physical body, focusing on nothing but his words. Who could ever have imagined that mere words would have served as such sweet distraction to someone like you! You are a professional adult woman and you realize only too well how silly this is. The very notion of it is preposterous! You laugh at yourself. But you cannot seem to release the thoughts surrounding your new online stranger, his mystery, his emotion, his passion and…his words. Those words that have affected you so much over the last few weeks, mesmerized you, held you captive, finding the very heart of your body, awakening the very core of your desires. Sure it had started simply enough. Following some miserably failed dating attempts, at the advice of a friend you had fired up the laptop and searched the ever-expanding world of online relationships. (Can they really be called ‘relationships’? Can you have a relationship with someone you have never met in person?) Surfing the many waves of personal ads, internet chat rooms and dating forums, you finally stumbled upon a posting which caught your eye. A mystery male writer, seemingly interested in a woman's real needs and desires…someone who, merely by his way of writing and his unique choice of words can somehow make a person feel his presence. You were at once intrigued, excited…. And so emails were exchanged, back and forth, as you began sharing your innermost thoughts and fantasies with this eloquent and bewitching stranger. As time went on, there were certain nights when he came to be your sole source of satisfaction when the real men of the outside world could not compare. This was your secret, a gorgeous, sordid secret between the two of you, and nobody else would ever find out.
Suddenly you are jerked back to reality. And here you indeed are….leaning against your refrigerator and now suddenly realizing you've lost almost 15 minutes in your reflection of this man’s correspondence. You smile as you realize that beads of sweat have started to form between your breasts, even though the window is open and a cool early autumn breeze wafts the hairs on the back of your neck. Your breath now comes in shallow gasps and you feel your heart rate quicken beneath the thin fabric of your blouse. Your hand, as if with a mind of its own, has worked its way under your short skirt….sliding its way up the inside of your thighs and finding its way toward your dampened gusset….pushing the fabric aside….
You remember that your ‘mystery man’ said he would be on tonight …waiting to tend to your every need, playing with every lustful thought you may have. Thoughts dance through your head like wildfire, spreading to every part of your body as the anticipation builds. Hurriedly you walk up the stairs, taking with you your wine and your laptop and leaving the rest of the world behind. At about 8:30, two further bottles of mediocre red wine and three perverted internet stalkers later, your disappointment starts to overtake you. Not only did he not show up, but there wasn't even an email to tell you why. Of course you find yourself irritated that you're even becoming upset about a man you don't even know, but yet….the things his words do to you, the way they make you feel….the heavenly places they take your body…..you simply need to have it. You snap your laptop shut and proceed down to the kitchen to pour yourself some water, feeling increasingly annoyed with yourself, and desperately frustrated. All that wine has gone straight to your head and you are feeling slightly fuzzy and disorientated. At least your drunkenness has gone some way to helping you overcome your disappointment, although it has also exacerbated your tiredness. You rinse your wine glass under the tap and try to focus. At that very moment a sharp knock at the front door blasts through the house…it is not extremely loud, but given your somewhat delicate state of mind, and with no other sounds to muffle it, it seems to rattle the windows. Startled, but mostly annoyed, you venture over to the door and open it a crack…about half as far as the security chain will allow. "Sorry I'm late" is simply all he says.
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Taking a deep breath, you gather yourself, almost laughing at how uncontrollable your body becomes at the thought of this man. This man you have never met! This man who could be a woman, a grossly overweight loner, an elderly pervert, who knows? Sliding your hand out from between your warm parted thighs, you straighten yourself up, refill your glass and quickly look up at the clock. Quarter to seven, according to the Pier One sale special hanging on the wall. 
