The Chat Girl Who Came Back Twenty Years Later

Some people no longer remember, but there was a time when there were only two ways to talk to someone who wasn't right in front of you: a phone call or being physically present. None of the immediacy we've grown so spoiled by today. If you wanted to get to know someone, you really had to put in the effort, whatever it was for.

Luckily, one day a program appeared that changed the afternoons of half a generation. It was called Messenger, and in the early 2000s there was one detail that made it different from any app today: since smartphones didn't exist yet, you had to use it sitting in front of a computer monitor. At home or in an Internet café. There was no other way.

It was 2002. It was one of those winter afternoons shut up in my room, killing time on the computer, when the typical incoming-message alert sounded. I paused the game and checked who was writing to me.

From her profile picture, she was a girl I didn't know. She greeted me with a plain “hello,” and I returned the greeting just as naturally. It turned out she was someone I'd had a pretty steamy conversation with a few days earlier in an anonymous chat, and to whom, at her request, I'd given my contact information. She had finally decided to accept me, and from then on we started talking almost every afternoon.

From the very first moment, she struck me as an incredibly interesting girl. She lived in a town not far from mine, we were almost the same age, and we shared the same tastes, especially when it came to sex. I had a girlfriend, she had a boyfriend, but that didn't stop us from saying all kinds of filthy things to each other, sending one another half-naked pictures, or describing in detail what we'd do to each other if we ever happened to meet. She told me she loved sucking cocks until they came in her mouth, that she swallowed every last drop, and that sometimes she would slip two fingers into her pussy while she sucked. I told her it made me hard just imagining her kneeling, lips glistening and tongue out, waiting for my cum. We fantasized in a thousand different ways, to the point of masturbating on opposite sides of the screen, describing in real time how we touched ourselves, how close we were, and how we finished. More than once. We even got as far as discussing meeting in person, but for one reason or another it never came together.

Then spring arrived, along with warmer weather and plans with friends, and little by little we forgot about each other. Youth, I suppose.

But life is capricious, and sometimes it puts coincidences in front of you that you never could have imagined.

***

A couple of years ago, while I was out drinking with some friends in a bar in my city's nightlife district, I locked eyes with a woman on the other side of the counter. They had just served her a gin and tonic. We stared at each other for a couple of seconds. She looked familiar, and judging by her expression, I think she felt the same way. We both knew we knew each other from somewhere, but neither of us could figure out where.

Just then, my friends decided to change bars, and I lost sight of her. We went through three more bars and, in the last one, I suddenly felt a few taps on my back. I turned around, and there she was, standing there with a glass in her hand.

“I know you,” she said.

“The thing is, you look incredibly familiar to me too,” I replied, trying to place her somewhere in my memory.

“I'm Noelia,” she blurted out without beating around the bush. “The girl from Messenger.”

Hearing that name alongside the name of that old program suddenly brought back the hundreds of conversations we'd had. And because of the content of those conversations, I couldn't help it when my cock gave a twitch beneath my pants.

“Do you remember me?” she asked when she saw that I wasn't reacting.

“Of course I remember you. Sorry, it's just that so many years have passed…”

“Don't worry, it's understandable,” she laughed, showing off a beautiful smile. “Especially since this is the first time we've seen each other in person.”

“True. I'll be honest with you: if you hadn't come over, I don't know whether I would have placed you.”

“It took me a while too, you know? And only because you look almost exactly the same as in the pictures you used to send me.”

She gestured up and down herself, like someone showing off a new outfit. Of course, there was nothing left of the teenager I'd met two decades earlier. Standing before me was a fully grown woman. Even so, in my opinion, she hadn't changed as much as she claimed.

My memory rummaged through the photos we'd exchanged back then. Beyond the haircut or the color of her hair, I still recognized that sharp nose, those large brown eyes, and those full lips that had seemed so attractive to me at the time. She had a slender figure, with tits that filled out her dress obscenely and a round ass outlined beneath the fabric, and her entire bearing radiated a sensuality that was hard to ignore.

We chatted about trivial things for a few minutes, until she decided to steer the conversation onto different ground.

“Be honest, Adrián. When I came over and told you who I was, don't tell me you didn't think about what we used to talk about on Messenger.”

“As if I could forget that…”

“And do you remember my preferences?”

“I remember everything, Noelia.”

“And which one do you remember best?”

“Do you really want me to tell you?”

“No holding back, please.”

“Well… I was always fascinated by how much you liked swallowing the entire load. You never let a drop escape.”

She smiled enigmatically and nodded several times, as though I'd given exactly the answer she'd been waiting for.

“Then you'll be glad to know my tastes haven't changed at all. In fact, I suck more cocks all the time, and I get more and more turned on by feeling hot semen running down my throat,” she confessed, staring straight into my eyes.

***

At that moment my anticipation was through the roof. I didn't know what to say or where to take things. It wasn't necessary anyway: she knew exactly what she wanted and immediately took over again.

“Look, I'm going to get straight to the point. I've been married for seven years and I have two wonderful children, and that is and always will be untouchable. But I don't want to lie to you either. This isn't the first time I've proposed this to someone who isn't my husband, and knowing me, it won't be the last. The thing is, when I finally recognized you, I got desperately horny to eat your cock until I left you dry.”

I was stunned. Horny, but stunned.

“Aren't you going to say anything?”

“Ask me for it,” I demanded. By that point, I wanted to make sure she wasn't messing with me, because things like this didn't usually happen to me out of nowhere.

“Seriously?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“And if you whisper it in my ear, even better.”

I was being a bit of an asshole there, I admit it.

“All right, if that's what you want…” She leaned toward my ear and, almost brushing me with her lips, whispered in a velvety voice: “I want to suck you off. I want to pull your cock out, take it all the way into my mouth, and have you come down my throat. Is that clear now?”

I swallowed and could only nod. That simple sentence sent my arousal skyrocketing, and I felt myself swelling inside my jeans. It was clear that she knew how to play the game, and much better than I did.

“All right.” She finally pulled away, satisfied. “In about an hour I should be able to get away from my friends. Give me your phone number and keep an eye out; I'll send you the location.”

She wrote down my number, gave me a missed call, and went back to her group as if nothing had happened, as though proposing things like that were the most natural thing in the world.

I carried on partying with my group, pretending to act normal, though my mind was somewhere else. One of my friends, who had noticed the cleavage-heavy woman I'd exchanged phone numbers with, asked me about her. To get him off my back, I told him she was a former coworker and that we'd arranged to have coffee. I don't know whether he believed me, but I didn't care. I spent the rest of the night with Noelia's words echoing in my head, checking my phone every couple of minutes like a teenager. I didn't want that opportunity to slip away. After more than twenty years, I was going to fuck the mouth of the first girl I'd ever fantasized about doing it.

***

The night wore on and there was no news. After four in the morning, when much more than an hour had passed, I began to lose heart. I thought it had all been a joke, or that she'd lose her nerve and not even write. I felt naïve, like a sucker. I came close to calling her, but what would I say? It seemed so childish that I abandoned the idea.

I was already resigning myself to it when I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. Two terse messages: the first was a location; the second was a chilly “15 minutes.”

What a rush. I had no intention of making her wait, so I told a friend I was going to the bathroom and, taking advantage of the fact that they were half drunk, slipped away toward the agreed-upon spot: an open-air public parking lot not far from the nightlife district.

It took me less than ten minutes, though I could have made it in five. I didn't want to look desperate either. I surveyed the area for a few seconds until I heard her voice.

“I'm here.”

I saw her leaning against the side of a silver compact car with the interior lights on.

“Hi, Noelia.”

“Forget the greetings and get in the car.”

“Do you prefer the front or the back?”

“Honestly, wherever you like. You aren't going to be sitting for very long anyway.”

I couldn't help laughing at how direct she was. It turned me on like crazy. She was visibly a little drunk, just as the drinks I'd had were affecting me. I sat in the passenger seat and she took the driver's seat. We looked at each other for a couple of seconds.

“What are you waiting for? Get your cock out. Come on. I've been thinking about it all night.”

I smiled and did as she asked. I unfastened my belt, lowered the zipper, and pulled my pants and underwear down to my ankles. I was already half hard, and as soon as it felt the air and her eyes fixed on it, it became completely rigid, pointing toward the car's roof. I wasn't about to put obstacles in her way.

“Fuck, look at you…” she murmured, licking her lips without trying to hide it. “It's just like in the pictures, but with twenty more years of wanting.”

Without another word, she gripped my cock in one hand and began stroking it with calculated gentleness, squeezing just enough, sliding the foreskin up and down, wetting her lips as she stared at the tip like someone looking at a candy. With her other hand she caressed my balls, weighing them, playing with them between her fingers. Within seconds I felt myself losing all control of the situation, which was exactly what she wanted.

“Mmm…” she murmured, closing her eyes. “One last thing before I put it in my mouth: when was the last time you came?”

I did a quick calculation and was surprised to realize it had been longer than I would have liked.

“Four days ago.”

“Uffff… four days. You're going to fill my mouth until it bursts, you bastard.”

And as if that figure had finished igniting something inside her, she bent over my lap and took the whole thing into her mouth in one go. I felt the head touch the back of her throat, and instead of gagging, she pressed her lips against the base and stayed there for a couple of seconds, swallowing around my cock. When she finally came back up, a thick strand connected her mouth to the tip. She smiled, wiped it away with her thumb, and went back down, this time setting a slow, deep rhythm, sucking with her cheeks hollowed.

“Jesus, Noelia…” I panted, gripping the headrest.

What can I say? I settled back and let myself go. The dimness inside the car barely allowed me to see, but enough for me to devote all my attention to what my old Messenger friend was doing to me. I watched her move up and down, her tongue curling around the frenulum whenever she reached the top, her hand at the base twisting in time with her mouth. Every so often she pulled it all the way out, spat saliva onto the head, and swallowed it back down to the bottom, looking me in the eyes with shameless boldness. I wanted to treasure that moment. Because I'm not going to lie: it was one of the best blowjobs of my life.

It was obvious that she loved it, just as she'd always assured me. It was obvious she knew what she was doing and enjoyed it as much as I did. She began moving faster, deliberately gagging softly against the back of her throat, and every time she came up she let out a hoarse, muffled moan that vibrated around my cock and made me clench my teeth. From where I sat, I had a clear view of her deep cleavage, and I didn't think twice. I pulled one strap of her dress down and yanked out an entire breast, its nipple hard and dark. I reached out, weighed it, and began pinching the nipple between my forefinger and thumb. When she understood what I intended, she pulled out the other one too and squeezed them herself without stopping her blowjob. She was moaning now, and those moans intensified as soon as I ran my fingers from beneath her tongue to the tip of her nipple.

“Yes… touch my tits… tell me filthy things…” she asked intermittently, her voice breaking, pulling my cock from her mouth only to speak. “Tell me I'm a cock-sucking whore.”

“That's what you are,” I shot back without thinking. “A filthy whore who's wanted to suck me off for twenty years. And now you're going to swallow the whole thing, do you hear me?”

“Yes… yes, give me everything…”

She lowered her head again, and this time she took it so deep that I felt her nose pressed against my stomach. She stayed there without breathing, swallowing around the head until a couple of tears sprang to her eyes. When she came up, she sucked in a deep breath and plunged back down, faster and dirtier, splashing through the saliva running down her chin and dripping onto her bare breasts. She was completely unleashed, and I wasn't about to stop her.

After half a night of thinking about it, I wasn't going to last long. I pinched her nipple hard, took my hands off her skin, and warned her that I couldn't hold back anymore.

“I'm going to come…”

“Come on, give it all to me. Come in my mouth, you bastard,” she asked without pulling it all the way out, speaking with her lips pressed to the head.

And then it came, brutally, after several days of buildup. She didn't move her face away even an inch; on the contrary, she stuck out her tongue and placed it right beneath the head, mouth wide open, so I could see the first jet fall inside. I let out a growl and released the first, the second, the third. Five or six thick, hot spurts in a row filled her tongue and overflowed from the corner of her mouth. She didn't close her mouth until I felt it stop coming. Only then did she look at me, smile, show me her tongue loaded with semen, and swallow it all in one noisy gulp. Then she went back to sucking the head until the last drop left inside me, squeezing with her lips and pulling upward as though she were wringing me out.

I kept going without holding back, making guttural sounds while she moaned with her mouth full and enjoyed herself as if she'd been waiting a week for it.

When I finally relaxed, the tension drained from my entire body all at once.

“My God, Noelia…” I managed to say, catching my breath.

She only smiled, happy and smug, lips glistening, with a thin white thread still at the corner that she wiped away with her finger and slowly sucked clean. She had gotten what she'd come for. In truth, we'd both gotten what we'd imagined so many times two decades earlier.

“I want more…” she said suddenly.

“Excuse me?”

And without even answering, she bent down again and took my limp cock all the way into her mouth. She began sucking it calmly, without urgency, savoring it, playing her tongue beneath the head and along the frenulum, pampering me until I felt it begin to wake again inside her mouth.

“Fuck…” I managed between pants, feeling the blood flow back down there. “You don't get tired, do you?”

“What can I say?” she replied, pulling it out for a second and licking it from my balls to the tip. “You know how much I love eating cock. And I've been dreaming about this one for twenty years. Right now I need more semen, and you're going to give it to me.”

As she continued, one hand taking my cock all the way in while the other moved beneath her dress between her legs, fragments of those conversations buried in some drawer of my memory came back to me. I remembered one afternoon when we were both incredibly horny on opposite sides of the screen, and she told me where that particular passion came from. She said that with every guy she hooked up with, it always ended the same way: her mouth open and tongue out, waiting for him to come, almost like a game of comparing flavors that had gradually become a habit. That at university she'd sucked three guys in the same night just to see what each one tasted like. She told it without shame, with a naturalness that had seemed almost alien to me back then.

Although not even two minutes had passed, the memories and her determination made me hard again inside her mouth. She felt me stiffen and moaned with satisfaction without pulling me out, vibrating around my cock.

“Let's go outside,” she said suddenly, releasing me with a pop.

“Why?”

“You'll see.”

We got out of the car, she pressed my back against the vehicle beside us, and knelt in front of me on the asphalt, not caring in the slightest about the cold or the dirt. Then she hitched her dress up to her waist, revealing a soaked black thong, which she pushed aside, and bent down again. She slipped two fingers into her pussy, pulled them out glistening, and with that same hand grabbed my cock and smeared it along its entire length.

“Now fuck my mouth. No mercy.”

That request was pure gasoline. I placed both hands on her head and pushed, setting the rhythm, unhurried but relentless. At first I only took it halfway in, then farther down, then all the way, until I felt her throat tighten around the head. She offered no resistance; on the contrary, she clung to my thighs and pulled me inward, urging me to go harder. The only sounds breaking the silence of the parking lot were our panting, the splashing of saliva, and the wet noise of my cock entering and leaving her mouth. We were putting on a show between two cars, right out in the street. Luckily it was almost five in the morning and darkness covered us; otherwise, we surely would have had an audience.

I was going to take longer this time, so every now and then she paused to breathe, pulled me from her mouth, spat on the head, and put me back in. Other times she lowered herself to suck my balls, one and then the other, while masturbating me with a hand full of saliva. She took them fully into her mouth, tugging gently downward, while her other hand never stopped jerking me off. Then she came back up and swallowed me whole in a single thrust.

“Fuck, you are such a slut…” I growled, grabbing her hair with both hands.

“More… fuck my mouth harder,” she begged between thrusts. “Ruin my throat.”

And I did as she asked. I held her firmly and began moving her head myself, at my own pace, driving it against my pelvis again and again. She let me, moaning with her mouth full, tears running down her cheeks mixed with smeared mascara, saliva streaming from her chin and falling between the breasts still exposed from her dress. Her other hand never stopped working her pussy below, two fingers thrusting in and out at top speed, splashing through her own wetness. She didn't care in the slightest about the lack of control. She was completely surrendered to what she was doing, and I was amazed. That woman knew exactly what she was doing, and enjoyed it without inhibitions or hang-ups.

It must have been nearly fifteen minutes, but everything has an ending, and mine was close. I thought wryly that if her intention in proposing this had been to empty me completely, she was going to succeed beyond her wildest dreams.

“I'm going to come again…” I warned her, feeling my balls tighten.

Far from pulling away, she moved even closer, pulled me from her mouth, and jerked me off at top speed with one hand right in front of my face, tongue out and mouth open, while with the other she pushed three fingers deep into her pussy at a furious pace. That image was too much. I gripped her head firmly, shoved it back into her throat in one sudden motion, and, after a hoarse growl, came again. I unloaded jet after jet inside her mouth, feeling her swallow even as more kept pouring out. When I had nothing left, I pulled out, and the last remnants fell onto her lips, chin, and right breast. She gathered what had landed on her skin with her finger and put it in her mouth without losing a drop. The sensation carried her away too, to the point that she had to grab my legs to keep her balance as her own orgasm tore through her. She trembled and moaned with her mouth still full, giving herself over more completely to her pleasure with every second, squeezing her thighs around her hand, coming on her knees in the middle of the street.

Half a minute later, recovered from her orgasm, she stood up and slowly licked her lips, savoring what little remained.

***

The sight was almost comical: Noelia with her skirt hitched up to her waist, her thong pushed aside to reveal her freshly shaved, still glistening pussy, her breasts out of her dress, hair disheveled, mascara streaked down her cheeks, and a smile of satisfaction impossible to hide. I was a little more discreet, with my pants around my knees and my cock still out, dripping saliva and leaking the last remnants. The two of us catching our breath.

“God… thank you so much,” she told me as she tucked her breasts back into her dress and pulled down her skirt.

“You thanking me? My God, Noelia. Thank you.”

“I really needed it. I needed a cock in my mouth and a load in my stomach.”

“It was incredible.”

“And that's after you told me you'd gone four days without anything,” she laughed, sucking the finger she'd used to collect the last drops.

She thought for a moment and, with a mischievous expression, offered me half a smile.

“Then you wouldn't mind if I called you one of these days, would you?”

“Where do I sign?” I replied.

And to this day, fortunately for me, she writes every now and then with the sole intention of meeting up and emptying my cock into her mouth. I can't complain.

I still laugh whenever I think about how she has me saved in her phone. Let's just say the nickname leaves no doubt about what she's looking for whenever my name appears on her screen.