Rachel 1: The Longest Foreplay

I feel like this should start off with yellow writing, slowly scrolling into the distance. It was a long time ago, but not a galaxy far, far away.

“Thank you for following.”

“Likewise,” she replied.

I had to scroll back through hundreds of messages, months and months of to’ing and fro’ing, as well as more than a few “for your eyes only” photos between us to tell you that. I hope you appreciate my efforts.

I followed up by asking her what she thought about my Jessica story. She read it for me then replied.

“Very, very hot. Apart from a few key things, she sounds a lot like me.”

Rachel went on to tell me that she used to regularly get massages at a local place. The guy who she saw there was attractive and she wasn’t beyond wearing some sexy underwear to tease him. He’d be massaging her back as she lay there in lace panties or a g-string.

“More often than not, my ‘neck, shoulders, and back massage’ ended up including my butt and legs. Like in your story, his hands would get very close but he always remained professional. I wondered if he got turned on, having thoughts like you did in your story.”

“He absolutely got turned on. No doubt he had thoughts,” I assured her.

She wasn’t convinced. I wasn’t sure if she was modest or shy. I suggested she read my story about the shy and modest Angela, and sent her the link, before saying goodbye for now.

“Ahaha again, apart from a few key thing about her, she’s me too!” she wrote the next day, along with what I learned was almost her signature; a string of shy monkey emojis.

I suddenly found myself in the position she’d described during her massages. There was interaction, perhaps some flirting, I “had thoughts” but wondered if Rachel was having thoughts too.

The next message answered my question.

“Aaaaannnndddd I might have used my vibe once I got home from doing school drop offs, thinking about your story.”

“Fuck!” I replied.

That set the tone for the upcoming months. Chit chat, interlaced with some shy flirting, along with a little dash of more explicit sexual tension here and there. We messaged pretty regularly. I got to know the witty, cheeky, yet self conscious woman behind the social media with tens of thousands of adoring fans. Unlike them, I hadn’t followered her for years and years on various platforms but I felt like I was getting to know her better than many of them had.

I got to see bold brat as well as the self conscious, doubting girl within. I got the wide variety from “how rude!” and “Yes Sir”, to “well, arn’t you a cute patootie!”, along with various gifs, many of which include pouting or other bratty behaviour.

The trust grew, the chats became more and more open, photos and videos were shared, teasing was in full swing. It didn’t take long for us to convince each other we should meet up but circumstances were against us. We’re both busy people, things get in the way. It was the longest foreplay ever. We just counldn’t seem to make it happen; From conflicting work and family commitments to biology. 

“You’re not going to believe this,” she wrote, coupled with a string of frustrated emojis. “Ffs I can’t catch a freaking fucking fooking break!”

“What’s the matter?” I replied.

“My time of the month came early. Why does the universe hate me so much?”

It wasn’t the first time. The problem with taking months to get organsed is that you have the risk of that happening several times. She wanted to feel comfortable in her body (no bloating or pain) and I wanted to get my hands everywhere so we were both frustrated by the latest delay. There were several times throughout the months where we thought it was just never going to happen.

We weren’t the only ones. It seemed the whole of social media was holding its breath. Her legion of devoted followers were dying to hear all about our appointment and live vicariously through me. Even her female followers wished they were in my place.

Which brought us to our next predicament. Content, information sharing, etc. My page was pretty much full disclosure of events. Other diary entries were very detailed, blow by blow (no pun intended) but about unknown people. Rachel, however, was a known person. How would we manage that? After all, she’s the quirky, fun social media personality that everyone wants to bang but no one gets to. Well, not publicly. I was keen to write up our story but I needed to respect her unique situation.

I couldn’t help myself though. With her permission, I anonymously shared a few of her DMs to me here and there on my timeline. Cheeky, flirty, even dirty stuff. There was a thrill for us both to see the reactions of people, not knowing that they came from their demure, little, social media butterfly. 

“Do you have another story you can write before mine?” she suggested, thinking we could confuse the followers as to who was who.

That was never going to work. Her fans knew her too well. They knew her mannerisms and style. They’d work out who I was talking about after a few paragraphs unless I created a totally fictitious timeline, interactions, character, etc. I don’t do that. I keep it real.

We agreed to meet and not worry so much about the content. I promised her a massage. Anything more than that, or after that, would play out however it played out. Well, that’s not entirely true. She promised me something in return for my massage but maybe that’s for a future installment. Maybe not. I’ll have to ask her if I can share.

>>> Tap to read Part 2 here