The Stranger in the Chat Who Made My Fantasy Come True

It was a Thursday with no commitments and nobody home.

My parents had left early, before I woke up. I found myself alone with the coffee still hot in the maker and the whole afternoon ahead of me. It was hot outside. That sticky midseason kind of heat that forces you to stay still and, in my case, only fed a desire that had been lodged in me for days with no intention of leaving.

I tried in every possible way. I put on music. I lay down on the bed. I tried to nap, but it never came. I looked for videos on my phone and closed them after two minutes, because none of those anonymous girls did it for me. I got up, drank water, sat back down. My cock kept hardening on its own every few minutes and I had to tuck it back into my boxer briefs just to think. The problem wasn’t boredom. The problem was that I needed someone on the other side. Something real. A presence.

I remembered that a guy from college had mentioned a platform. One of those things nobody talks about out loud but everybody knows: an adult chat with optional camera, no mandatory registration, no trails to erase. I told myself it was stupid while I looked for the link, made myself a fake account in three minutes, and went in.

The list of active users was long. Mostly meaningless names. Numbers at the end, fire emojis repeated to the point of exhaustion. I kept scrolling without anything stopping me, until I got to one that made me stop: Valeria_sola.

I couldn’t have explained why that one and not another. Maybe the name. Maybe the “sola,” which said something without saying everything.

I wrote to her.

—Hi.

—Hi —she replied in less than a minute.

—Matías. Nineteen.

—Valeria. Thirty-five. Are you looking for something specific, or just browsing?

She was direct. No beating around the bush, no act of pretending she was there by accident. I liked that.

—The same as you, I imagine —I wrote.

A brief pause.

—Good imagination.

We started talking. More than I expected. She asked me what I studied, where I was from, whether I lived alone. I asked her what she was doing alone on a Thursday afternoon. She said she worked from home and that Thursdays were her worst days: too much free time, too much silence in the apartment.

I understood her perfectly.

After twenty minutes, the tone had changed without either of us declaring it. The questions got shorter, the answers heavier. When I told her I had just bought myself new underwear that week, the silence that followed lasted exactly long enough to understand what came next.

—Is that an innuendo? —she asked.

—Depends if you want to see it.

—Only by camera?

—Only by camera. What happens on the screen doesn’t leave it.

—All right —she said, and the time between her reply and the video call request was about fifteen seconds.

***

I connected first. Left my camera off and waited. The green icon appeared on her profile. Her camera was off too.

But her voice was on.

—Can you hear me? —she asked.

It was a deep voice, a little hoarse, one of those you don’t expect until you hear it and then can’t forget. Confident. Unaffected. A voice that went straight between your legs.

—Perfectly —I said.

—Good.

We kept talking. She steered the conversation with a skill that didn’t pretend experience: she had it. She knew when to ask a question and when to stay quiet. She also knew when to use silence so the tension could build on its own, without forcing it.

When I mentioned the underwear again, she didn’t act surprised.

—Show me —she said.

—Sure?

—I asked you to.

I stood up in front of the desk where I had the laptop. Tight gray boxer briefs. And I’d spent a while thinking about Valeria’s voice, so my cock was already making an obscene bulge against the fabric. It outlined everything, from the base to the tip, and the tip was pushing up with a wet patch that darkened the gray. There was no way to hide it. No intention to either.

I turned on the camera.

She took a while to speak.

—Damn —she said finally.

—Good or bad?

—What do you think?

I heard something like a muffled laugh before she went on.

—That cock is going to split your boxer briefs.

—Your fault —I said.

—Don’t get cocky.

But there was no reproach in her voice. There was the low, rough drag of someone whose cunt was getting wet while she talked.

***

The game that followed was one of measured distance. She asked, I showed. I asked, she hesitated. When I asked her for the first time to turn on her camera, she said she wasn’t sure.

—I’m embarrassed —she said.

—After everything you just said?

—Talking is one thing.

I decided not to push. I leaned back in the chair, adjusted my boxer briefs, and crossed my arms. If she wasn’t showing anything, neither was I.

—What are you doing? —she asked immediately.

—Waiting.

There was a long pause. Longer than the others.

—All right —she said at last—. But not with my face showing.

—I’d never ask for anything you didn’t want to give.

Valeria’s camera turned on.

***

She was lying back on a bed with rumpled sheets beneath her. Light came in from a side window, warm, late-afternoon light. She was wearing a dark, fitted tank top, and nothing else I could see from that angle.

Thirty-five years old, and it showed in the best possible way. Her breasts filled the tank top to the edge, round, heavy, and the nipples stood out like two hard points through the dark fabric. The shirt had ridden up an inch above her navel, revealing the white skin of her belly, that soft curve that fell toward her hip and made me swallow without realizing it.

—Well? —she asked.

—Good —I said, in a voice calmer than I felt.

She smiled without my seeing her face. I noticed it in the movement of her shoulders.

—I want you to take off the boxer briefs —she said.

—Already?

—Do you have a problem?

I yanked them down. My cock sprang free, hard, pointing at the ceiling, the thick vein marked along the whole shaft and the swollen red tip with a thread of pre-cum hanging from the glans. I stood in front of the camera completely exposed, my balls tight against my body and my cock throbbing on its own every few seconds.

—Jesus —she murmured—. It’s huge.

—Good or bad?

—Very good —she said, and her voice had dropped a register—. It’s beautiful. Now grab it. Slowly. I want to see you work it.

I took it in my right hand, closing my fist all the way around the shaft. I started slowly, pulling the foreskin down to the base and back up again, covering the glans and uncovering it once more. With my thumb I spread the pre-cum over the tip to lube it and made it slide more easily.

She watched me from the screen without saying anything.

—Imagine it’s me —she said—. Imagine it’s my hand squeezing it. My mouth is going to take it all.

—Fuck.

—Would you like that? Would you like me to suck it?

—Yes.

—Say it right. Tell me what you’d want me to do to you.

—I’d want you to take it down your throat —I said, my voice rougher than I recognized as my own—. To suck my balls. To let me finish in your mouth.

I heard her let the air out slowly, as if her breath had caught for a second. On the screen I saw her slip a hand below the frame. I couldn’t see what she was doing, but the tension in her shoulder and the subtle movement in her forearm left no doubt: she was touching her cunt, and she was doing it well.

—Slower with your hand —she told me—. Don’t come yet.

I obeyed. I eased the pace. My cock kept throbbing in my hand, pulsing all over, the tip getting shinier and shinier.

—I want to see you —I said.

—Not yet.

—Valeria.

—I said no.

She smiled when she said it. That smile held everything: the control she exerted deliberately, the pleasure of keeping the tension alive, the certainty that neither of us was going to interrupt this now.

—Touch your tits —I asked her—. Take them out of your shirt. I want to see them.

She brought her hands up slowly. First she caressed them through the fabric, squeezing them from underneath, pressing them against her chest. She ran her thumbs over the nipples, which were already standing out with an evidence that dried my mouth, and pinched them through the fabric until I heard her let out a soft moan.

—Take it off —I said—. Now.

This time she didn’t hesitate.

***

The shirt fell to the floor without drama.

I sat there looking at the screen in silence for a full moment. Big tits, generous, unapologetic, hanging a little to the sides under their own weight but lifting firm whenever she took a deep breath. Dark nipples, thick, completely erect, pointed up as if they were asking for a mouth. They asked for more than a look.

—What? —she asked.

—Nothing. Just looking.

—You’ve been looking a long time —she said.

—It’s because they’re worth it.

She took her tits in both hands, lifted them, pulled them together at the center. She ran her tongue over one nipple, then the other, sucking on them herself with her mouth open. Saliva glistened on her skin and her nipples turned hard as stones, even thicker than they already were.

—You’re sucking them for me —she said—. In my head you’re sucking them for me.

—I want them in my mouth —I said—. Both of them. At the same time.

—Keep touching that cock, Matías. Don’t let go.

I didn’t let go. I kept working it slowly, fist closed, squeezing harder on the upstroke and easing on the way down, just the way I liked it. The tip was already dripping.

—Move your hand down —I asked her—. Down to your cunt.

She did. Over her belly, slowly, tracing a straight line downward. She was wearing a short black skirt that reached halfway down her thigh. When her fingers reached the edge of the fabric, they stopped.

—Keep going? —she asked, but she already knew the answer.

—Lift the skirt —I said—. Show me everything.

She pulled it up to her hip. I saw her thighs: wide, white, with that softness only certain bodies have and that makes hands tremble before they get there. She was wearing small black panties, completely soaked. The fabric clung with a clarity that cut off my breathing: the outline of her cunt lips showed through the wet cotton, and a dark stain ran down to the crease of her thigh.

—You’re leaking —I said.

—I’ve been like this since I saw your cock.

—Take your panties off.

—Do whatever you want —I said too, though we both knew that wasn’t a neutral answer.

Without warning, she pushed the fabric aside with two fingers.

She showed me everything.

Carefully shaved, only a thin strip of hair above. The lips pink, thick, swollen, shining under the afternoon light. The opening was visible, red, wet, and lower down the clit peeking out between the folds like a hard little pearl. I had no words. I didn’t need any.

—Touch yourself —I finally asked—. Open yourself all the way. I want to see it properly.

She ran two fingers from top to bottom along the whole slit, gathering the moisture, then brought them to her clit. Soft circles outside, unhurried. The lips opened on their own under the pressure, showing me the pink, glossy interior. Then she slipped one finger inside, pulled it out slowly, then pushed it back in to the knuckle. Then two. She moved them inside calmly, in and out, and her cunt swallowed them with a wet, obscene sound that came through the mic with a clarity that ran through me from top to bottom.

—Listen —she said, bringing her hand closer to the mic. The wet slapping sounded as if she were doing it right in my ear.

—Fuck, Valeria.

—That’s how wet you’ve got me —she said between breaths—. Imagine you’re here. Imagine you’re the one fucking me.

—I’m imagining it.

—Tell me. How you’d fuck me.

—I’d put you on your back —I said, squeezing my cock harder—. I’d spread your legs and lick your cunt all over until you came in my mouth. Then I’d fuck you slowly, all the way in. I’d split you in two.

—Yes. Keep going.

—I’d start pounding you slow, so you could feel it properly. Then I’d ram it into you like a beast. Balls deep. Every time.

—Faster, Matías. Your hand. Faster.

***

We both sped up at the same time.

Her hand moved without pause between her legs, fingers disappearing into her cunt and coming back out with a motion that was no longer gentle. She pulled them out and, with her free hand, rubbed her clit in fast circles, without resting. She’d leaned farther back onto the pillow, legs spread wide open, tits rising and falling with every breath. Eyes closed, mouth slightly open, her breathing coming in short fragments that cut off before completing.

—Don’t stop —she said—. Like that. Exactly like that.

I wasn’t planning to stop either. I worked my cock with my fist closed, fast, squeezing the tip on every upstroke. My balls had glued themselves to my body and I could feel I was right on the edge, throbbing all over in my hand.

—Tell me you’re going to come —I said—. Tell me.

—I’m going to come, Matías. Now. Now. Don’t stop.

I watched her tense. Her thighs tightened around her hand, her body arched back on the bed, her tits lifted into the air and her fingers sank deeper inside. Her breathing cut off for a full second before spilling out in a long, deep sound, almost a howl, that filled the whole call and bounced off the walls of my empty room. I watched her cunt contract around her fingers, squeezing them rhythmically, and a stream of wetness ran down her hand and soaked the sheet beneath her ass.

I came almost at the same time.

It was a discharge that started at the base of my balls and surged up without warning, with no time to prepare. I felt everything clench inside me and suddenly my cock shot the first load, a thick rope of cum that blasted out and landed on my chest and stomach. Then another. And another. Four or five shots in a row, hot, heavy, staining my hand, my belly, the top of my thigh. The intensity folded me forward with my hand still moving, forcing out the last drop, and I lost track of everything else for a few seconds. Only heat. Only the sound of her breathing coming through the speakers.

—Oh my God —I heard her whisper—. You came so much.

—An entire afternoon’s worth —I said, my voice broken.

—I can see that. You made a mess of yourself.

I ran a finger over my belly, collected some of the semen, and showed it to the camera without thinking too much. She gave a soft laugh, satisfied and gentle.

—If I were there, I’d lick it off —she said—. All of it.

—Don’t tell me that now or I’ll get hard again.

When I came back to myself fully, we were both breathing slowly. The screen showed Valeria stretched out, relaxed now, her legs still apart, her fingers resting inside the wet inner curve of her thigh. She brought her fingers to her mouth without thinking and licked them one by one, looking at me through the camera.

Silence.

***

—That was —she said at last.

—Yeah —I replied.

Nothing else needed saying.

We stayed on the screen a little longer, not talking, until she sat up to look for the shirt lying on the bed. She put it on slowly, without looking at the camera. I watched her tits disappear beneath the dark fabric and felt a brief sting, like a goodbye.

—Will you write me later? —I asked.

—Maybe next Thursday —she said—. I told you Thursdays are my worst days.

She turned off the camera.

I was left alone in the room, with the afternoon still long outside the window and my body completely calm. The semen was drying on my skin and I was too lazy to get up and clean myself. No more tension. No more restlessness that had kept me pacing all morning.

Only silence, which now sounded different.

I saved the username. Just in case.