Go-to Guy Ch. 01

As he set foot in the café, Marc couldn't help but feel that there was a target painted on him; as if all the patrons were about to turn around and give him a disdainful look, a look that said, "We know what you're here for." It was a weekday morning, yet the place was packed for some reason. Quickening his step, he scanned the room in the desperate hope that she was here already, that he wasn't going to be sat at a table waiting forlornly for her to arrive.

Then suddenly the crowd thinned a little and he spotted her, sat by the window. She was bathed in sunlight, which gave her a strange kind of halo, and occasionally she turned round and shielded her eyes as she gazed out into the street. She was recognisable, and yet so very different from the blurred pictures she had emailed him at three o'clock in the morning, her dark hair tousled and her face unmade. Now her hair cascaded neatly down to her shoulders, waving slightly at the edges, and she was dressed casually in a black turtleneck and jeans. She had clearly made an effort, but there was still something very natural about her; an air of innocence which he hadn't been expecting.

As he made his way forward, she caught sight of him and her face lit up in recognition. She gave him an encouraging wave over to her table. Drawing nearer, he was able to take in her face in detail for the first time. She said she was twenty-eight but she looked at least five years younger, her dimples showing prominently. Her smile was warm and welcoming, and there was a sparkle of life in her brown eyes, but there was also a sharpness too. She was watching him keenly, evaluating him, even as she stood up with a welcoming grin and shook his hand. "Hi."

"Hi... Josie," he said in a staccato voice as he briefly forgot her name.

"Yeah, you got it. Marc," she added heavily, her face jutting forwards in a sudden moment of goofiness. He was reminded of the playful sense of humour she'd always shown during their long conversations in the small hours, and the weird faces she'd pulled in some of those photos, and realised that this was definitely the same girl.

They both sat down, and as Marc pulled his chair up to the table and watched Josie smooth her hair and sip her coffee, all he could suddenly think of were the many obscene things he had suggested he would do to her. Watching her now, the thought of actually doing them seemed so improbable that he lost faith for a moment. But then he remembered all the equally obscene things she had suggested in return, and the idea that even some of them were now going to happen was so thrilling that his heart leapt with excitement.

During the small talk that followed they established that Josie was indeed twenty-eight, and she took Marc's compliment that she looked much younger with the weary gratitude of someone who had heard it plenty of times before. They also established that Marc hadn't lied about his age either - he was fourteen years her senior, and looked it. Once that was out in the open he began to worry about how he was coming across to her. He was all too painfully aware of the user base on the site where they had met: mainly men his age or older, looking for jailbait who they could flatter long enough to get into their pants. He knew the type so well because he had been one of them, for longer than he wanted to admit.

That was what had kept him going long into the night, pursuing hook-ups that were never really there. The stakes of this game were a lot lower for him than for many of the other men on there, since he wasn't trying to find excitement outside of a stale marriage, with all the risks that entailed. He had no such burdens; at least, not any more. But he was after escapism just as much as they were. It had settled into a familiar pattern: chasing fantasies that were so much more than he really wanted, getting a reality that was so much less. He had been right on the verge of quitting the site, of finding a sensible lifestyle more befitting a forty-something, when Josie came along.

She had been witty and perceptive, with an affinity for smut that had surprised even him. During their first exchanges she posted in short, pithy sentences, revealing little about herself, but she would suddenly drop the filthiest suggestion into an otherwise innocent discussion. He would email back, expanding on it a little, then she would expand further. After a week or so it was as if they both dropped their defences; he could see she wasn't just an attention-seeker, she realised he wasn't a stalker in disguise. Then their conversations had become much longer, and dirtier, to the point where he prayed that all of this was going somewhere. Now, after a series of hesitant emails and even more hesitant phone calls on both sides, the moment had arrived.

"You nervous?" Josie asked him out of the blue, her hand resting on her chin.

"Well... yeah," Marc admitted with a little shrug, realising it was pointless to try and bluff her. "I haven't done this for so long... in fact, I've never really done this before. Like this, I mean."

"Yeah, I guess it's not the way you're supposed to meet someone!"

"Have you done this before then?"

"Um, yeah. A little bit," she admitted shyly. "But it doesn't always get this far."

"That's what I was worrying about, when we were up all night talking." Marc caught Josie's quizzical look, and tried to explain himself. "Y'know, that we were having a good time, but it might not be anything more than that. That it would all just be harmless flirting."

"Oh, c'mon!" she admonished him, patting his arm. "After all the effort we both put in? I would never have lead you on just for the hell of it."

"No, I'm not saying you would," he said hastily. "Just that you might have had second thoughts."

Josie shook her head and glanced away, down at her cup. A faint smile played over her face as she recalled a recent memory, summoning up the courage to describe it. "Do you remember one night, I told you how my pussy swells up when I'm really excited? Remember that?"

Marc swallowed heavily, and nodded. "Yeah."

"Yeah, well I don't mention that to every guy I flirt with." She looked at him again, her head tilted to one side and an indulgent smile on her face. "I lost a lot of sleep because of you. While we were chatting and... afterwards sometimes. And I know you did too."

"Yeah, I did," Marc laughed. "I was late for work a few times because you'd kept me up."

"Well, that's what I was trying to do," Josie murmured as she folded her arms on the table. "Keep you up." Marc felt the same surge of excitement in his guts that he had before. "I'm glad it worked, 'cos I only had your word to go on. Most guys start bombarding me with the cock pics after I've spoken to them once, so..."

Marc winced inwardly. "I thought that might have happened to you a few times. I don't know what gets into them. They must be that desperate."

"Not just that, but they don't have enough confidence in themselves. I got talking to this sixty-one year old guy..."

"Sixty-one?"

"Uh-hmm. He said so on his profile, he was upfront about it. Don't worry, you're not the oldest pervert on there, Marc," she grinned, enjoying his red-faced response. "Anyway, I started talking to him and I liked him a lot. We had plenty of things in common. I'm not saying anything was going to happen, but I was keeping an open mind. And then - the junk!" She chuckled and shook her head. "Not that he had anything to be embarrassed about, but... just weird."

"He must have thought you were getting on even better than you really were."

"Obviously! I mean you did a good job keeping me up to date about how things were going down there, it's not like I needed... hard evidence." Josie looked away out of the window, a smile starting to break out on her face. After a few moments she turned back at him. "How it's feeling at the moment, by the way?"

"How's what feeling?"

"Your cock." She leaned forward, her arms flat on the table, and fixed him with a kind but oddly intense look, as though she were compelling him to confess all.

Marc took a sharp intake of breath, suddenly floored. "Uh... it's good," he muttered, feeling the item in question bulge outwards under the table as he replied. He found himself unable to hold her gaze, and looked awkwardly downwards.

"You can tell me, Marc," said Josie in amusement, her eyes still boring into him. "You must have whacked off over me enough times by now. I mean, I am getting it harder, aren't I?"

Marc nodded, half-aware of how dumb he looked. "Yeah, it's getting there," he murmured. He shifted slightly in his chair, and she spotted it straight away. She leaned in close to his face, dropping her voice a little but still keeping it audible.

"Why don't you put your hand on it, so you can tell me how hard it is?"

Marc stared back at her, trying to find the gag, the sudden release of tension. But her face retained its poise. When he didn't respond, she ran a hand through her hair and gave a gentle sigh of exasperation. "Marc... put your hand on your cock. I'm not going to say it again."

He realised as he stared at her that she was sincere, and that if he didn't comply she was quite prepared to just walk away. As he lifted his hand slowly off the table and slid it between his legs, he felt his head spin, like someone else was moving it for him. Looking into Josie's eyes, it was almost as if they were. He saw her smile widen ever so slightly, her dimples showing again, as he obeyed her. She watched him carefully, studying every little movement. When he made contact with his shaft his whole body flinched, and she was instantly aware of it, her eyes flicking down to the rim of the table.

"Touch the head, and rub it," she instructed him, like she was running through a step-by-step guide on how to assemble a penis. The sound of her voice prompted another uncontrollable twitch beneath his fingertips, his pants forming a ridge over his crotch. He stared down at the table again, his cheeks flushing red with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal. He felt as though every eye in the vicinity was slowly pivoting in his direction.

"Marc," Josie said quietly, and his head snapped upwards instantly. "Look at me while you touch yourself. Nowhere else." There was a silence as they stared at each other, Josie a picture of calmness and control, Marc anything but. The aimless mid-morning chatter carried on around them as they both sat still in their chairs, Josie's eye wandering to the telltale pumping movement of his shoulder joint. "When was the last time you came?"

"Last night," he admitted, feeling his face burn again. She smiled, and gave an understanding little nod.

"Me too. It's probably a good thing you did. We don't want any accidents, right?" She gave his arm a playful squeeze, and Marc whipped his hand away from his crotch with a gasp. "Oh, you almost lost it there didn't you? Huh?" She lowered her head, searching out his evasive eyes.

Marc resisted for a moment, then he met her gaze. "Yeah, I almost came," he said clearly, and it felt strangely liberating to say it right to her face. His embarrassment at being exposed like this, at being ordered around in public, gave way to something deeper and more intense; a surge of powerlessness, frightening but captivating at the same time. His body was flooded with nerves, tingling from head to toe, but his fear wasn't of being caught; it was about which weakness he would reveal to her next, and what she would do with that information.

It was already blatantly obvious that there was one thing she could make him do. Leaning forward on the table, she pressed a hand against her temple and looked him up and down briskly. Her mouth opened slightly and before he realised it his mouth was opening too, anticipating her suggestion. Her lips slowly widened into a telling smile. "Well... you've got nothing better to do, have you?"

Josie sat back in her chair and sipped her coffee, as Marc slid his hand down under the table and got to work again. Her eyes never left him for a second. After a few minutes, he was comfortable enough being watched by her to start showboating, just a little. He circled the head of his cock, working it to a fever pitch of excitement, then slowed the pace and ran his fingers down the shaft in long, smooth strokes. His breath escaped in soft groans, and he bucked forward slightly in his seat, his hips reaching for a visible, but out of range target.

Josie tilted her head slightly as she watched him, her smile setting at the corners. "OK, that's enough," she said at last, setting down her cup. "You're kind of a slut, aren't you?" she grinned as she looked him over. "You sure you haven't done this before?"

Marc shook his head. "No, this is a new one on me. But then usually when I'm out on a first date, things go slower than this. The women I'm with tend to be more cautious."

"Well you must be getting tired of cautious women then, Marc. You certainly weren't shy about yourself when we were talking. You gave away a hell of a lot before we met, before you even knew I was real. Knowing what I know about you..." Josie slid up to the edge of her seat, and stared at him. "Is there any reason why I should take it slow with you? Honestly?"

"No," he admitted, looking into her piercing eyes and feeling overwhelmed yet reassured at the same time. She nodded, and settled back in her seat,

"So, you've never jerked off in public for that special woman, huh?" He shook his head, and shared the smile that crept over her face. They sat together quietly, the tension in the air gradually reducing.

"Is it wet too?" Josie suddenly asked out of nowhere. "As well as hard?"

Marc was a little better prepared for the kind of thing that came out of her mouth now. "Yeah, a bit. I can feel it soaking through."

"I always wondered if you boys give yourselves away in public like that too. I guess not." She grinned as a thought occurred to her. "Not unless it's already over, that is. That must be pretty hard to hide."

"Well yeah, if I was still fifteen!" Marc commented glibly. "These days I don't explode at the drop of a hat. I can keep things under control most of the time."

Her eyes swivelled lazily towards him. "Really? You might have to prove that, you know." She seemed to have a whole series of suggestions on her mind, but instead she took a deep breath and glanced at her watch. "I gotta go back to work, sorry. I'll call you after five and give you my address, and you can drop by. OK?"

Marc paused for a moment, temporarily lost for words; everything was being taken out of his hands, and he wasn't used to it. "Um... sure. You want to do this tonight?"

"What, you want to wait any longer? After all that? I couldn't be that patient, and I don't think you could either. Besides," she reminded him coyly, "you don't know what 'this' is yet, do you?" Marc felt his heart skip a beat as he watched her slide her phone into her bag. She looked like any other twenty-something girl, but he realised he had no idea what plans were being formed under that sweet, beguiling face; that was the single most addictive thing about her.

"I don't mind doing this again though, if you want." Josie bent over and gave Marc a quick peck on the cheek as she left. "In fact, I think we will. Maybe next time you can keep your hand inside your pants rather than outside, huh?" She gave him a pat on the shoulder, then she was gone, without even a backward look.

Marc, however, gave her a very long backward look. He watched her all the way out of the café and across the street outside. He took a deep breath and placed both hands on the table top to steady himself, his cock throbbing and mind swimming. He wondered secretly if he had been found out; if the innocent smiles on the middle-aged women chatting away at neighbouring tables were curling wryly in his direction now and then. When he left the café at last, he felt like there was an even bigger target on him than when he had entered.

Unlike Josie he had taken the day off work, so he had nothing to distract him for the rest of the afternoon as he waited for five o'clock to finally crawl into view. He took another shower, fighting to keep his mind on something else, anything else, because he was more painfully aware of his dick than he could ever remember. He knew if he thought of her for too long his fingers would wander, and that would be it. When he had showered and dressed he sat eagerly in the living room, glancing every now and then at the phone which he knew wasn't going to ring for hours.

He went back upstairs and checked his appearance in the bathroom mirror, worried that he had missed something. He ran a hand through his sandy brown hair, scrutinising the bags under his eyes. He'd had an uneasy night's sleep worrying about how his first meeting with Josie would go, and that was before he had the slightest clue how dirty she really was. It shouldn't have been a surprise to him, not after all those long, beautifully worded pieces of pure filth they had traded in the small hours. If he had revealed a lot of himself to her, she had done likewise; far more than he had ever expected to get from a woman so quickly.

But he had thought that deep down, a lot of it was internet bravado; that when they met in the flesh they would both be a little shyer, a little more hesitant to reveal themselves. If anything she had been just the opposite. She had sat there, inches away from him, and ordered him around like it was second nature to her. It occurred to him that perhaps it was second nature. Perhaps she played these kinds of games all the time, and he was just the latest hook-up for her. The idea of it didn't offend him at all, but it did worry him. What if all his fantasies were exposed as wishful thinking, and he had to admit he didn't have the nerve to go as far as she wanted? The chances of him ever meeting someone like her again were remote.

He took another look in the mirror and it occurred to him that he might be pinning so much on this date because it had been a long time since his last one. He had dreaded the thought of returning to that world, trying to abide by the same old rules, having to market himself all over again. That was one of the things that had pushed him onto the website, to find pleasure without any of those restrictions. Now he was being set a whole new series of rules, unlike anything he had ever encountered before. Already he knew that these ones were worth following.

He breathed in deeply, his shoulders trembling. He wondered if Josie was the kind of girl he could happily present to friends and relatives as just another sign of a mid-life crisis, like a convertible or a new hairstyle. The perfect trophy girlfriend, hanging off his arm at parties and taking care of the home. Maybe not.

When the phone rang Marc made a careful effort not to snatch it up immediately, but that didn't seem to fool Josie. "I've not been keeping you waiting, have I?" she teased.

"Nope," he murmured, his voice catching in his throat. He listened as she gave him directions to her place, the anticipation building inside him. As he walked out to the car he almost felt like he was on autopilot. When he got to her apartment block he took a deep breath and stepped out onto the kerb, gathering his thoughts. He crossed over to the front door, pressed her buzzer and wondered for a moment what to say.

Before he could even open his mouth, her voice drifted slowly out of the speaker. "Up you come..." The front door clicked and he hurried inside. Climbing the stairs, he heard a door open on the landing above him and his heartbeat quickened a little more.

A moment later he turned a corner and there she was, leaning casually against her front door. She was wearing mostly the same thing she had worn that morning, except she had discarded her sweater. Her shirt hung down over the front of her jeans and her feet were bare, her toes flexing against the carpet. Her hair was just as messy, and she looked if anything even more gorgeous than she had before. Her smile widened as he came into view. "There you are..." she murmured, beckoning him forward. Once he was close enough, she took hold of him by both arms and guided him back into her apartment.