I am publishing this now because I thought it was a story worth telling, and because one of the persons it most concerns cannot be affected by it It is written from memory, but I know that this person will not be embarrassed by any details I may have forgotten. It was told to me by a dear friend, Sal, and at first, I didn’t believe him. Sal always had a strand of park rat in him though, especially about things he had sentimental feelings about, so he was able to produce emails and pictures to prove what he was telling me was in fact the truth. After that, I simply sat back and absorbed what he had to say. Here it is:

It might come as a surprise to you that I never had sex until I was fifty years old. The why isn’t hard to understand: bad experiences early in life made me wonder if I was just doomed to never be with a woman. When I turned fifty, though, I joined a site called AdultFriendFinder. You might remember it from that movie, but when I joined it, the movie was still several years in the future. No, I went looking for someplace I could find a date, either just a ‘go out and have dinner’ or one with a woman who actually might want to have sex. I quickly found that, while it likes to bill itself as “The place for sex.”, AdultFriendFinder was about as good a place to find a women to have sex with as a convent. Most of the women where, not to be too blunt, ugly and/or fat. The ones that weren’t, for and by the large, either wanted to show off on webcams, or set their standards high enough that Peter North would have had a hard time getting sex off of them. Looking as I do (Sal was a fairly ordinary looking guy, not in the best of shape but no tub), that pretty much meant I wasn’t going to have sex with anyone on that site. Or so I thought.
Every once in a while, you’d see a woman put up a profile that made it clear that they were a “pro”: a prostitute looking to bring in some more customers via a site dedicated to sex. Those profiles didn’t last very long, especially the really blatant ones, but they were entertaining. I didn’t pay much attention to them until, one day, I saw one for a woman who was living not much more than a fifteen minutes from where I lived. More interesting, she gave her age as just 20, and said that she was a college student looking for, as she put it, “a mutually-enriching arrangement”. At that point, I was sure I was never going to find someone to have sex with from the “regular” members of AdultFriendFinder, so for the hell of it, I wrote her a short note asking if she was, as her handle implied, a “sexycallgirl”. She got back to me pretty quickly, I have to admit, and admitted that, yes, she was looking to make some extra money. She used the name Nikita Cox (really original, huh?) and insisted, however, that what she did with me or any of her ‘sugardaddies’ was not prostitution. According to her, if we were to meet, any money I gave her was simply money to help her with her day-to-day expenses. I nearly turned her down, as she sent me several images of her, in different stages of nudity and even completely naked, that were good enough looking to make me wonder if she might be part of some sort of police “sting” operation. (when Sal eventually showed me the images, I could understand why he might think this, as she was a strikingly good-looking young Hindi or Pakistani woman who could probably pass for a girl of fifteen or so) We ended up trading emails for almost a month before I decided to take the chance and set up a day and time to meet her.
She had a simple set-up: I told her the day and time I wanted to meet her, and if it didn’t conflict with her classes or other scheduled events, she’d agree. On the day of the meeting, I would get a room near the campus of her university and, shortly before we were to meet, she’d call me on my cellphone to find out what motel/hotel I was at and what room I was in. She was almost always on time, and I can tell you, that first time, I was scared! Not only was I still worried that I might be walking into a police ambush, I wasn’t sure how she’d react to a man who clearly didn’t know how to handle himself in bed with a woman. I got a room at the local Travellodge, trying my best to come up with a line of shit for the Hindi guy who was behind the front desk about why I was checking in in the middle of the afternoon, but I quickly figured out as long as I crossed his palm with the right amount of money, he pretty much didn’t seem to give a damn. I went up to the room, fumbled with the key card, and finally managed to let myself in. The curtains where open and I decided to leave them open so I could watch for a cop car pulling in. that way, I reasoned, I might at least have a chance to leave before they could arrest me for anything. I sat down at a table by the window to wait. I’d gotten there early, worried that I might run into trouble, so I had a while to stew before my cellphone rang. When it did, I nearly jumped out of my seat and managed to hit the wrong button, hanging up accidentally. Niki, as I came to call her, dialed me back quickly and I made a shame-faced explanation as to what had happened. She seemed to understand and when I told her where I was, she told me she’d be there shortly. Now I kept a close eye on the parking lot, which is how I saw her for the first time. I saw a light blue Hyundai pull in with a woman who looked a lot like the picture I’d gotten from Niki. By coincidence, she parked next to my car. When she got out, I could tell it was her, and I could see there where no cops, so had that weight off my mind. Then the other half of it hit me: I was going to have to have sex with this woman, and I really started to sweat! She came up to the door, and I let her in. It was cold that day, and it’s snowed pretty heavily just a couple days before, so both of us had worn big, heavy boots. Somehow, she’d worn a denim skirt that barely went down to mid-thigh and managed not to freeze her ass off, but the view…damn, that made it all worthwhile to me! The first thing I was struck by was how short she was: she’d told me she was 4’11”, but even in her boots, she barely came up to the middle of my chest (Sal stood slightly over 6′ tall). She had a warm smile for me, even an embrace, then she reminded me I’d need to close the curtains unless I wanted to put on a show for anyone walking past the window. After I’d closed them, she started to undress and I got my first real look at her body. She had small breasts, probably B-cups, topped with these incredibly large nipples. You might see women in porn videos who have shaved pussies, but Niki just kept hers trimmed down, or at least most of the time. Then she did something that amazed me: she pulled a digital camera out of her purse, showed me how to use it, and asked if I might want to take some pictures of her nude before we had sex. I was willing to do that, but not so much because I wanted a ‘trophy’ picture, but because by that point, I had realized I was nervous enough that I wasn’t getting hard! I told her how I wanted her to pose, trying to delay the final humiliation of having her see me like that, then took the shots. I knew that I could delay the inevitable only so long, so after I was finished, I did something I’d only seen guys do in porn videos: I got down on my knees, opened her legs, and ate her pussy. I didn’t have a clue how to do it ‘right’, but I did my best to imitate what I’d seen, and as I went along, I paid attention to how she acted and reacted to what I was doing. I guess the attention paid off. After a while, she had her hands on my head, then her legs wrapped around me, and she was moving and shaking like she was enjoying what I was doing. Did I get lucky, or was she just acting? I never was sure, but it gave me the time I needed, and the confidence too, to get hard enough to try fucking her. Niki then did something that was sort of her special trick: she started sucking me, and after a while, she pulled a condom out of the wrapper, put it on the head of my dick, then used her mouth to roll it on. That first time, I was still more-or-less at ‘half staff’, but she got it on, then climbed up and started riding me. It was fun and interesting, and eventually I reversed rolls and got on her. We went at it for a good while, and she had an “orgasm” which even I could tell was faked, then she asked me to do something else that was her specialty: she had me take the condom off and jerk off on her pussy. I did as she asked, then she had me take a picture of her lying there with my cum laid out all over her mound. After that, she got cleaned up and actually talked to me for a while before she left.
I knew I hadn’t done a first rate job, so after I got home, I got on line and wrote her a note. It might not have been the smartest thing I ever did, but I told her the truth, that she was the first woman I’d ever had sex with and that if I hadn’t seemed very confident, or very skilled, that was why. Maybe she was playing me, or maybe that message actually caught her off guard, but when she replied, she told me she was honored that I’d chosen her to be my “first” and that I’d actually done a good job as far as a first-time pussy eater. She also sent me copies of the pictures I’d taken of her. They were hotter to look at than they’d looked while I was taking them, especially the ‘after’ shot.
From that point on, we stayed in contact pretty much all the time. it was an odd week when we didn’t exchange at least a couple of emails. They filled the time between when we could meet, and over time, she began to refer to me as “a friend” and the two of us exchanged more details of our lives. We’d meet for sex at least once a month, sometimes twice, as even while I was working, finding $200 to spare for an hour with her wasn’t easy. But the emails kept coming no matter whether we’d just met, or where planning to get together, or if we just wanted someone to talk to. When we’d been first talking about meeting, Niki had made it clear what she wanted out of the arrangement, and one of the things she didn’t want was a boyfriend. Maybe I should have kept that in mind, because over time, I began to have feelings for her, feelings that had nothing to do with just sex.
When I was told I’d loose my job (Sal, myself and a hundred plus other people lost their jobs when the ‘right-size’ crowd at our parent company decided our plant was redundant), I was worried that things would change between me and Niki. I actually started thinking of how I could keep seeing her while I was on unemployment, but that was something I didn’t have to worry about. I let her know shortly after I got the word, and she was sympathetic and understanding, hoping I’d quickly find a job. Well, that was the start of the current economic downturn, so despite all my looking, when the final ax fell, I found myself without a job to go to. I actually planned it so I had my bills paid off and had the extra money to ‘celebrate’ my lost job with another meeting with Niki. I should have known something was coming from the way she acted that last time. She showed up and there was none of the connection I’d felt with her before, and she made no effort to disguise the fact that she was watching the time. When I was done, I gave her the money, as usual, and she left without saying much of anything. I’d taken a couple of pictures of her that final time, and she emailed them to me, but didn’t bother to attach any sort of note to them. I wrote her, and she’d respond, but where the messages had been warm and interested before, now, she only replied with short and terse notes.
The final break came from out of the blue. I wrote her, asking her opinion of the different candidates running in the presidential election, and what came back knocked me off my feet. It was a hate-filled note, full of a venom I’d never seen in her before, attacking liberals and all things to do with them. That she had to know I was a liberal wasn’t hard, as I kept the bumper of my car decorated with my support for liberal candidates and causes (Sal took a fair amount of good-natured ribbing at work for his long-standing loyalty to the Democratic Party and its candidates), and she’d seen it every time we’d been together. I tried to find some sort of understanding, but she would have none of it, making each new note even more hateful until I snapped back and told her I was not impressed with her opinion. She’d cycled our email contacts through several different accounts, mainly on Yahoo, which I later figured out probably meant that she shifted addresses when she dropped a no-longer-in-favor ‘sugardaddy’, and that’s what happened to the address I had for her. That note from her was the last time I ever heard from her. Even though I know it was nothing to her, to me, to this day, I still miss her. Is that silly or just sad?
After Sal told me this, I thought back over that last year or so of work. I remembered how he, a usually taciturn sort of guy who rarely smiled and had a wit as dry as the Sahara, had suddenly started smiling at odd times. Neither I nor anyone else had ever made the connection, but on reflection, I guess I should have. When our plant closed, I lost touch with Sal. I’d like to use the excuse that I was busy restarting my life, but the truth is I got so absorbed in trying to find a job to replace my old one that I didn’t have a lot of time to hang out with the “old gang”. I met Sal again for the first time a couple of month ago, and the change in him was shocking. He’d gone from a robust and healthy individual to a man who clearly was having serious health problems. He only told me his story a couple of weeks ago, and if I’d been thinking, I’d have realized why he told it to me. At the time, when I asked why he wanted to talk about something that was clearly painful to him, he just smiled a wan sort of smile and said “Embarrassment ends at the grave, but regrets, regrets seem to haunt you forever.” My friend Sal died Sept. 26, 2009. His obituary listed the cause of death as complications of diabetes. Sal had fought that disease well for all the time I’d known him, so I knew that wasn’t true. Sal died of a broken heart. You see, the thing he couldn’t say, even in his final-almost confession to me was that he’d fallen in love with Niki. Sal was a good man, so if anyone reading this knows a short young Hindi woman with small breast and long black hair, studying, of all things, the law at Northern Illinois University, tell her Sal’s dead and that she’s killed a better person then she’ll ever be.

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