Suzanne Portnoy

I was sitting in the jacuzzis at Rios on the weekend, being fingered under the warm, bubbling water by a guy I’d met a couple of times before. I didn’t know much about him, well pretty much nothing at all except that I liked fucking him, but I thought I’d ask him a question that had been niggling at me for a couple of days.

‘About a week ago,’ I said. ‘I met a guy and we had a drink and a bite to eat. (Well, actually, I ate a big rhubarb fool and he watched me eat it) ‘

‘This was a guy you met on the web?’ he said.

‘Yes,’ I said.

‘OK,’ he said, turning up his nose. He had already told me five minutes earlier that he was completely techno illiterate. He could hardly send an email and, in fact, was going to get rid of his computer because he never used it. I had told him that when I was a kid that I used to love to take things apart and put them together and that my dad had told me I should have gotten my degree in Mechanical Engineering instead of Communications. I told him that I had a natural affinity with machines and wished I had been born in the computer age because I was, deep down, a geek. So, as you can gather, he didn’t think much of a girl who liked meeting people via computers. Nevertheless, he kept playing with my clit.

‘OK,’ he said.

‘Anyway. We got on. We had a laugh. He told me some interesting things about his life and I thought he was sweet,’ I said. ‘The thing is that he lives on the Isle of Wight. And at the end of the conversation he invited me to come and visit him there. We arranged it for this weekend but I haven’t heard from him since although we’ve exchanged a couple of text messages. Do you think I should go?’

‘The Isle of Wight?’ he said. ‘That’s pretty far to go to get fucked, isn’t it? I mean, I would go to Hampstead or Highgate or maybe Covent Garden but I don’t think I’d go to the Isle of Wight. What’s he doing there anyway? Is he in hiding from someone??’

‘No,’ I said. ‘He has a yacht. An 18thc yacht. He’s a captain. He does boating type thing.’

‘Oh,’ he said. ‘That’s OK then. But I don’t think you should go to the Isle of Wight.’

‘Well I don’t get out of London much and I thought a trip to the Isle of Wight might be kind of fun. An adventure.’

‘Don’t you get enough adventure in London,’ he said whilst inserting his finger gently into my pussy. ‘Why would you want to go to the Isle of Wight for adventure?’

‘Mmm.  That feels good, ‘ I said.  ‘I don’t know. Anyway, that’s not what I’m asking.’  I reached down to stroke his cock under the water.  It was hard.

‘I’m asking if you think that I should contact him about whether or not the invitation is still open. Don’t you think that he should have made some kind of contact by now if he really wanted me to come and visit him? Don’t you think it’s a bit odd that I haven’t heard from him much. Do you think he really expects me to travel for hours when I hardly know him?’

‘Oh,’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t know about that. I’m not him. Jesus, you’ve got a nice fanny.’

So, the question is - should I just leave it and make other plans for this weekend or should I go to the Isle of Wight. Answers on a postcard please….