In the old days, in order to look real, people started with offices, rented furniture, maybe hired a temp secretary, a good looking one, to throw in the vague promise of sexual adventure. Now the web site comes first, the cyber presence is more real to the average consumer, and the sex appeal comes in the fancy graphics.

So there we sat, me and Tanya, on the floor of her bedroom in front of the computer (she didn't even have home office furniture yet) looking at some sample web designs and eating lunch. I'd volunteered to help her get started, not out of any great sense of altruism, though I certainly believed in what she wanted to do. She'd accepted, not because I was the world's greatest web designer, though I'm certainly not bad. No, there was something else, something not quite tangible, an interest, a fascination, a wariness.

We weren't quite touching, not all the time, but the space between us was small enough that the hairs on my arm tingled, and the bed, ah the bed she shared with her strong silent husband, was close enough to be constantly in my peripheral vision.

Tanya has an out-of-control aura about her and her husband has a completely in control aura. I wondered, in my peripheral mind, what went on in that bed when the room wasn't being used as her office, and I wondered, in the deep primal core of my soul, what could go on in that bed when the room was supposed to be used as an office.

Looking at her, all sweet and innocent and pixyish, cross-legged, tan, comfortable, long, dark and curly-haired, half smiling about something, I just wanted to kiss her. I had no image of heart-pounding hip pounding giddy-up rough-riding, just a simple lay her back on the floor stare into her eyes and kiss her on the lips kind of urge.

I'd been lost in that thought for God only knows how long when I realized she wasn't typing anymore, that she wasn't looking at the screen anymore, that she was looking back at me. It was one of those seconds in life, one of those really long seconds, when you can see a host of possible futures spread out before you and you have to choose one right away.

This one was a no-brainer. I cocked an eyebrow at her. I smiled. She smiled back. I leaned in. She leaned back, onto the floor, stretching out, pulling me down on top of her. Her lips were heaven. Her legs were long, her skirt was loose, and my hands couldn't help themselves, roaming up and down her legs, between her legs, up under her blouse to some very tweakable nipples as we kissed much more passionately than I had imagined.

I felt her hands fumbling with my belt, unzipping my pants, reaching inside, squeezing my cock. She was way ahead of me, stripping me, stripping herself, outstripping my romantic fantasy, but I was catching up fast, half hard and nearly ready.

I started to roll over, to enter her, to kiss her again, but she pushed me back, smiled at me, trailing her mouth down my chest and my stomach to my now completely hard cock, which she took in her mouth while she stared into my eyes. Incredible. Absolutely fucking incredible.

All the times I had stared at her and wondered how she would blow me, instantly revealed in one awesome motion: wetly, warmly, and enthusiastically. Within a minute all the blood had flowed from my brain to my erection. I was ready, rock-hard ready, to fuck.

She could sense it, could see it in my eyes, because she stopped and rose up on her knees, swung one leg over my hips and impaled herself on me in a single fluid motion and then held there. My cock deep inside her, looking down at me, triumphant, savoring the moment and my hands on her hips.

And then she began to move. Sliding back and forth, slowly, forcefully, grinding her hips against mine, her clit against me, her pubic hair against me, the wetness of her against me.

I wondered with the little brain capacity that I had left whether the big strong silent husband let her take control like this or whether he held her down and spanked her, if he fucked her from behind, her ass in the air, her breasts flat against the bed her mouth biting the sheets in frustration and pleasure, or if he put her on her back and entered her from above with her knees back to her shoulders, if she was ever in charge with him, if I was her release from his control, and I knew that I was and I knew as I watched her, free, in charge, bouncing wildly and happily the sensation of her bouncing, the vision of her bouncing something I wanted to repeat again and again but knowing deep in my heart, that she wanted and needed his forceful control, realized that I was seeing her about to come, exposed, connected, alone, strong, frail, free, trapped, as truly naked as anyone would ever see her, and at that I came, came with her, came hard, savored the minute when she collapsed against me, sweating, panting, and giddy, as an irreproducible instant to be remembered forever.