OK everyone, since you seem to want it, I decided to try my hand at a little descriptive writing. Since I find my fiction boring, I thought it better to take an example from life. After all, truth is sometimes much stranger than any fiction you could dream up. It's a bit long, but I hope it's worth it. So, without further ado...


Meeting Basil

It was the turn of the century, New Years Day, not Y2K, the "true" New year of 2001. The snow lay thick outside the grimy window of the apartment in New Jersey. I'd had a pleasant night planned. Dinner was simmering in the kitchen and there was a film in the DVD player waiting to be turned on when Tushar got home. Except Tushar wasn't coming home that night. The snowstorm was getting worse and he had called to tell me about being snowed in at work. To be fair, it was true. No cars could get in or out of our apartment complex. I could see that easily from our third story window. Everything was blanketed in a thick, icy layer of snow the pristine white of birthday cake frosting. That didn't stop me from feeling hurt when I heard the sounds of laughter, music and New Years horns in the background.

Now wait a minute. Wasn't this story about Basil and who is this Tushar? I guess I'd better cover that before I go any further.

Tushar was my boyfriend at that time and, if truth be told, it wasn't the best of relationships. It wasn't until later that I realized how psychologically abusive Tushar was. All I knew was I was tired of being his dirty little secret. There were rules for when I was to leave the house, what I was to wear, what I was to do when I was alone in the apartment, even for when I could listen to radio or watch TV. It was of course, all reasonable requests. After all, we didn't want his parents to hear about me "until the right time." I don't want to go too much into those rules or that existence though. Looking back, it was a very unpleasant time in my life that spiraled quickly downwards. About the only thing I was "allowed" to do was play on the computer.

I had installed ICQ so that I could talk to my friends. That New Years Eve, after the phonecall, I was angry and bored. I'd have left Tushar then and there were I able to leave the apartment at all.

Instead, I turned off the dinner, made myself a small plate, put the DVD back in it's box and went dejectedly over to the computer, turned it on and sat down in front of it as I tried to force myself to eat.

The computer started and I opened ICQ. Nobody I knew was on, absolutely nobody. After all, who goes on the computer on New Years Eve? What else was there to do but rummage through the game files and push the "random" button on the ICQ panel? There weren't many people in the random list apparently, as the same person kept popping up. At first I didn't really pay attention to him. His profile sounded like it belonged to an overconfident 19 year old that was trying to make himself look older. "Ladies welcome, girls need not bother." Greeted me and I decided to press the button again. Again, the "ladies welcome" popped up and I read the contact information.

Denmark? Where in the world was Denmark? Mildly curious, but not enough to message him, I decided to press the button again. A few presses later, "Ladies welcome" invaded my sight once more. By the fourth time this happened, I decided to go ahead and message him.

My first conversation with Basil was extremely pleasant. We shared ideas for jewelry, talked about where and how we lived, I even told him a little about Tushar, but by no means the whole story. Basil was just a nice man halfway across the world that was easy to talk to. A few days later, the discussions became sexual in nature, with us talking about our fantasies and eventually, acting them out online. I was an airheaded little southern girl at the time, lost in New Jersey (that's a WHOLE other story that I may write about sometime) and at the time, I didn't even know it was cybersex. It just felt so good to talk to Basil and I was so open with him that eventually, I told him everything about Tushar and the situation I
was in, including the debt, family problems that had made me decide to try my luck in another state and how I suspected Tushar of being unfaithful to me.

Two weeks later, I was completely infatuated with Basil. I was running home from work each day through the snow to talk to him, scheduling my work as far as possible so that I'd be home when I knew Basil was online. As I sat at the computer talking to Basil, he started trying to convince me to come to Denmark. The prospect became more tempting with each benefit he mentioned; danish pastry, free health care, free libraries, free education, etc... By the time I was ready to consider dropping everything (what did I have to loose?), Basil dropped the bombshell that floored me, literally.

"I'll even stay married to you as long as it takes you to get citizenship."

My jaw dropped, I fell out of the chair eyes still glued to the screen. "You're crazy." I said out loud, not really knowing if I meant myself or him. Up into my chair again I scrambled to ask the myriad of questions buzzing around in my skull.

"Did you just propose to me?" "Yes." "You don't even know me." and so on and so forth, I'm sure you know the song. It ended with me telling him I wanted to wait on answering him until we met in person.

Fate, Destiny, Serendipity, Karma and whatever else one might believe in must have intervened all at once, because the same day, Tushar told me that I would have to make myself scarce for a while in a few months. His parents were coming to town and he wanted me to "meet them properly" instead of finding out I was sharing an apartment with him. He told me to start making plans to find a place to stay for a couple weeks while his parents were there and that he'd introduce me to them on the day they were to leave town again to avoid conflicts.

Very well, Donnaly began making plans, and not the plans that Tushar expected. The "place to stay" became a friend of a friend's apartment, far enough out of the way that Tushar would never find me if he did come looking. I didn't know that Kristine was a prostitute until the night she asked me to watch her son while she "went to work." By the time I did realize what kind of work she did, I was more curious than judgemental and readily agreed to watch her sweet four year old boy. During the five days I was with her, she gave me a wealth of advice about men. Much of it I couldn't wait to put into practice with Basil and her practical advice made me realize how childish and embarassing some of my naively played out online fantasies with Basil had been.

The other part of my plan involved meeting Basil in person. During the month I had to prepare, Basil had sent me a plane ticket to
Denmark and agreed to come meet me in New Jersey. He'd reserved a hotel room and all I had to do was be at the airport in time with
my passport in hand.

"In time", according to most military families, means WAY TOO EARLY. I left Kristine's apartment at 9AM the morning Basil's plane was to arrive. The plane was due to land at 11:37AM and it was only a 20 minute drive to the airport from Kristine's home. I wanted to look
my best for Basil, so I wore a floor length maroon velour gown, with back crossed spaghettie straps and a purple, flowered vine pattern embroidered into the velour. I must have succeeded because several men in the waiting room at one point or other tried to interest me in conversation, only to quickly give up when I told them I was waiting on a man already. What I didn't realize until I heard a
beautiful baritone voice singing love songs and looked up to see an equally beautiful black man in a red suit jacket passing out roses to the women entering the waiting room from the first official landing of the day, was that Basil and I had managed to plan our meeting on Valentine's Day, with neither of us realizing the significance of the date! At least that helped to explain why so many of the men I had spoken to that morning seemed so interested in
a shy, southern girl that felt so out of place in a civilian airport.

Basil's plane number was announced landing and my heart leapt directly up my throat, rammed my brain, fell into place again and left me standing dizzily on shaking legs. I had memorized his photograph and the type of clothes he said he'd be wearing and eagerly searched the crowd coming through the customs gate for any sign of a tall viking in a green jacket. When I didn't see him immediately, I assumed I'd either missed him, or he was holding back for some reason. So I waited, and I waited, and I waited. The crowd thinned to a trickle as the older, slower passengers and the younger families weighed down with kids filtered slowly through the gate, yet there was no sign of Basil. I was ready to give up and go all the way home to Alabama when an elderly woman who had noticed the picture I was holding nudged me in the way only the truly confident elderly person can manage without offending.

"Isn't he the man in that picture?" She asked with a nod in the direction of the gate. I looked up again... and there he was. My heart repeated it's backflip so enthusiastically that I had to give a little squeel and a jump. I would have rushed in to meet him, but the guard held me back with a tolerant smile telling me that I'd have to wait for Basil to come out of the gate for security reasons.

Basil stopped and exchanged a few words with the scarlet clad greeter then turned to me and smiled. Once through the gate, he immediately gathered me into his arms, hugged me tightly and kissed me deeply. Nothing existed at that moment except Basil and me. I wanted his hands all over me and I wanted to drop all my remaining "southern belle" inhibitions, not that I thought I had many left.

We came up for air eventually and Basil took my luggage as well as his and we went to find the rental car company. We took the bus out to the parking lots and yes, we were the shameless couple that sat in the front of the bus, not caring who was watching us kissing and putting our hands all over each other. Basil kissing me and fondling me simply felt right in a way that's difficult to explain.

All my life, I've felt out of place. No matter where I was, or what I was doing, I never truly felt like I belonged. This is not an exaggeration. I always felt like I was a freak and a misfit and my first experience meeting someone online had only confirmed that. The man I had met then was a complete jerk and turned cold from the second he saw me. Basil, however, accepted me as I was at first glance. I felt like I had finally come home and I was comfortable with him touching my body. He could have taken me on that bus and I'd have been comfortable with it.

I was still feeling euphoric when the bus stopped at the car rental area and we picked up the car Basil had rented. From there, we
commenced the three hour drive to the hotel.

Three hours? Yep. It was supposed to be twenty minutes, but Basil had inaccurate maps. I had broken my glasses the week before and had no money to get a new pair. I could see well enough to work and to read with a pair of over the counter lenses, but not well enough to read road signs from a moving car. About thirty minutes after renting the car, we were back at the airport, giggling about the wrong turns that had been made as he felt my leg and pinched my thigh. Fourty-five minutes later, we were back at the airport again. Neither of us thought to ask directions. We just hopped back on the highway and headed out again. Third time was a charm. When we finally found the hotel, we were late for our reservation, but the kind woman at the desk let us know that the room hadn't been rented out yet, stamped our papers and let us sign in.

Finally the moment came when Basil unlocked the door to our hotel room and we were alone. Utterly, blissfully alone. Coats came off quickly and I don't remember them being hung up. What I remember vividly was him taking me in his arms again and kissing me gently as he rubbed my shoulders and how his kisses travelled down the side of my neck to my shoulder, causing goosebumps to rise on my flesh as my nipples peaked. I was nervous and clumsy, not quite knowing how to ask for what I wanted, not even really knowing what I wanted as Basil led me further into the room towards the bed.

I wasn't a virgin when I met Basil, but I might as well have been. The few men I'd had before Tushar were mainly high school playing, where they knew as little as I did about sex and what transpired without them was neither interesting nor inspiring. Tushar had been interesting, but brutal. I had resigned myself to thinking that sex was always painful and envying women that could actually enjoy it. Basil was about to change that misconception.

He moved the strap of my dress down to where it hung just off my shoulder and kissed the hollow of my shoulder again, giving it a little nip that sent shivers down my spine as he moved his hand down my waist, caressing me through the velour of my dress. I took a few steps backwards, towards the bed as he pressed against me. My heart was fluttering with how nervous I was, wanting him to touch me more but anxious from my preconceptions. As he lifted my skirt, a felt the bed just behind my knees and let myself sit down on the edge it as he hooked my panties and pulled them deftly down. Now he was kneeling in front of me and I found myself holding the hem of my skirt up for him as he gently flicked my clit with his tounge. I thought I'd faint from how good it felt and bit my tounge to keep from crying out when he gave it a gentle suck. He ran his hands up the inside of my thighs, encouraging me to spread my legs more so that he could come between them. By now my nervousness was gone and I felt so euphoric that I was willing to let him try almost anything. He was so gentle as he thrust his tounge inside me and tasted my juices. He stopped for a second and looked up at me in surprise. I remember thinking how glad I was that Kristine had shown me how to shave that region properly at that moment.

All thoughts of her or anyone else disappeared completely as the began sucking and licking me greedily. I was whimpering with pleasure and laid down as Basil began fingering me. He gently stroked what I would later learn was my g-spot until I was practically ready to beg for more. He continued licking and stroking me until I was close to the edge. Then he began using his teeth, biting my clitoris and stroking my g-spot hard until I experienced my first true orgasm. My legs were trembling, I was exhausted and it was wonderful and he hadn't even removed his pants yet!

I sat up trembling and reached for his belt buckle. If he could lick me like that, the least I could do was reciprocate. As my skirt fell over my legs again, we switched places and I helped him remove his pants and began clumsily kissing and licking him, gently stroking him with my fingertips. But something was wrong. I thought it was my clumsieness, but no matter what I did, (and I tried for quite a while) he didn't get hard. He stroked my hair and gently kissed the top of my head then told me that it wasn't my fault that he couldn't get it up. He was too nervous and excited and that everything was literally so good that he couldn't get an erection.

I didn't really believe that, but I was actually relieved at that moment. I was afraid of having proper sex, so when he suggested I just lay on top of him and kiss him for a while, I gladly did so. We would, after all, have quite a lot of time together. The room was rented for eleven days and then I had a ticket for a two week stay in Denmark. There would be plenty of time to enjoy each other.

I was enjoying kissing Basil and his clothing felt wonderful against my bare legs and arms. Eventually I was straddling him with him still fully dressed and sat up to stretch my back. He looked up at me again with those amazing blue eyes.

"Donnaly, will you marry me?" He asked and another shiver went down my spine.

"Yes." I answered simply. It was valentines day, I felt wonderful and I doubted I'd ever meet another man like Basil. How could I give any other answer?

"Really?" He asked. The look of genuine surprise on his face was priceless.

"I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it." I answered. He put his hands around my waist and lifted me off him as he sat up and walked over to his coat. Less than a minute later, he returned with a small, diamond ring, perfectly proportioned to fit my hand.

The next eleven days were a revelation for me, both social and sexual as Basil teased and taught me more about my body in those few days than I'd learned in my entire life to that point. Eventually we moved on to "proper" sex and we even got around to trying anal, which didn't work out because I was too inexperienced and nervous at that time.

When the time came to visit Denmark, there wasn't a question of us staying together or not. The only question was which country we would stay in. That was easily decided. I was just as comfortable in Denmark as I was when I was first embraced in Basil's arms. I had come home and never wanted to leave. My return ticket was never used. It's still lying in it's envelope in a plastic box near my desk. Even if it were still an option to use the ticket, I doubt I would. It's been nearly 8 years since Basil first proposed to me and I can't imagine life without him.

Wow! That's an awesome story. You rarely hear about folks just dropping everything for someone and following on faith...but when you do hear about it, it's amazing I'm glad you two are so happy and everything worked out!

Thankyou Phoenix.

Even though I had little left to loose when I met Basil, marrying him was the best thing that ever happened to me. Ordinarily I wouldn't recommend meeting someone over the internet at all, much less agreeing to marry an internet fling the day you meet them in person. Yet that's what worked for us. It was impetuous, irresponsible and absolutely wonderful.

As for the story itself, I was hoping for a little more feedback and possibly some constructive critism to improve my writing style. I guess it's back to my day job.

Well, here's your first bit of commentary- you were awesome with your written skills. I've say use a bit more description- even though you used a lot, which worked. I really enjoyed how you used the important scenerios for the description and used the not so important ones for the background so we could still figure out where you were but were able to imagine the good juicy parts... but knew how you got from airport to hotel (for example).

Continue your work and I'm sure that someone will give constructive criticism.. eventually

Kathy

quote:

Ordinarily I wouldn't recommend meeting someone over the internet at all,

that's how my wife and i met....6 years ago.

great story!

Sorry Donnaly, I didn't have anyting to critisize Loved the attention to detail, especially since it wasn't TOO much, just enough to keep the reader interested. Maybe post some more stories and I'll have more constructive criticism to give!