Online dating

Days later, Meg found herself alone in her apartment, the silence broken only by the soft hum of the refrigerator and the occasional car passing on the street below. She had just finished a long day at the office, her mind still buzzing with legal jargon and case files. As she settled onto her plush couch, a glass of red wine in hand, her conversation with Suzie at the café came flooding back.

The loneliness that had been creeping up on her for months suddenly felt overwhelming. Her apartment, once a symbol of her independence and success, now seemed cavernous and empty. The king-sized bed in her bedroom hadn't been shared in far too long, and the idea of another night scrolling mindlessly through Netflix made her heart sink.

With a deep breath, Meg reached for her smartphone. Her manicured fingers hovered over the screen for a moment before she finally mustered the courage to open the app store. She typed "dating app" into the search bar, her heart racing as she scrolled through the options.

After reading a few reviews, she settled on one that seemed to strike a balance between casual and serious. As the app downloaded, Meg took a large swig of wine, steeling herself for what was to come.

The setup process was straightforward enough. She uploaded a few recent photos - one of her in a form-fitting cocktail dress at a charity gala, another of her laughing on a hiking trail, her chestnut hair tousled by the wind. She hessitated as she reached the profile description section. She took another sip of wine, letting the rich flavor linger on her tongue as she contemplated what to write. Finally, her fingers began to dance across the keyboard:

"Ambitious lawyer by day, adventure seeker by night. I'm passionate about justice, good wine, and exploring hidden gems in the city. Looking for someone who can keep up with my quick wit and isn't afraid of intellectual debates over dinner. Bonus points if you can make me laugh until my sides hurt.

When I'm not buried in case files, you can find me trying out new recipes in my kitchen, losing myself in a good book, or planning my next travel adventure. I believe in living life to the fullest and am searching for someone to share those moments with.

Fair warning: I have an unhealthy obsession with true crime podcasts and can quote entire episodes of The Office. If that doesn't scare you off, let's grab a coffee and see where this goes!"

Meg read over her profile several times, making small tweaks here and there. She wanted to strike the right balance between approachable and intriguing, professional and playful. After what felt like hours of agonizing over every word, she finally hit "Save."

As her profile went live, Meg felt a mixture of excitement and trepidation wash over her. She scrolled through the app's features, familiarizing herself with how to swipe, match, and message. The sheer number of potential matches was overwhelming.

But the excitement was short-lived. Minutes passed, and Meg's phone remained eerily silent. The few matches she did get did not responded to her carefully crafted messages. Frustration began to set in, mingling with a growing sense of self-doubt.

No more than a few hours later, after another disappointing match, Meg found herself diving deep into online forums and articles about dating app success. Her eyes widened as she scrolled through profile after profile of women who seemed to be having much better luck than she was.

These profiles were a far cry from her own carefully curated, professional image. Gym selfies showcased toned abs and glistening skin. Low-cut tops hinted at cleavage, drawing the eye with teasing glimpses. Bikini photos on exotic beaches abounded. The descriptions were equally daring, filled with double entendres and flirtatious challenges.

Meg bit her lip, her fingers hovering over her phone. She couldn't believe what she was about to do, but the frustration and loneliness were overwhelming. With a deep breath, she reopened her dating profile and began to make changes.

First, she swapped out her professional headshot for a more alluring photo. It was from a beach vacation last summer - she was wearing a emerald green bikini that accentuated her curves and made her eyes pop. Her chestnut hair was tousled by the sea breeze, and her skin had a sun-kissed glow. She was laughing, caught in a candid moment that showcased her natural beauty and joy.

Next, she added a photo from a night out. In it, she wore a form-fitting black dress with a plunging neckline that hinted at her cleavage. The dress hugged her hourglass figure, showing off her toned legs and the curve of her hips. Her hair was styled in loose waves, and her makeup was bolder than usual, with smoky eyes and red lips.

For her final photo, she chose a picture from her yoga class. She was in a challenging pose, her lean, toned body on full display in tight leggings and a sports bra. The image showcased her flexibility and strength, while also highlighting her flat stomach and shapely legs.

With trembling fingers, Meg deleted her carefully crafted description and began to type anew:

"I've got a naughty side that might surprise you. Let's start with drinks and see where the night takes us. Who knows? Maybe we'll end up breaking a few laws together (don't worry, I know all the loopholes).

Meg's heart raced as she read over her new profile. It was bold, flirtatious, and more than a little risqué - everything her original profile wasn't. She couldn't believe she had actually written those words, but the thrill of it was undeniable.

As Meg's new profile went live, she felt a mixture of exhilaration and nervousness. Within minutes, her phone began to buzz with notifications. Messages flooded in, each one making her heart race a little faster. She scrolled through them eagerly, her green eyes widening at the boldness of some of the responses.

At first, the messages were mostly flirtatious compliments and witty pickup lines. Meg found herself giggling as she crafted quick, playful replies. The attention was intoxicating after months of loneliness.

But soon, the tone of the messages began to shift. The first unsolicited intimate photo appeared in her inbox, catching her completely off guard. Meg gasped, nearly dropping her phone. Her cheeks flushed crimson as she stared at the explicit image on her screen.

As more photos flooded in, Meg's initial shock began to fade. By the tenth such picture, she found herself studying them with a mixture of curiosity and unexpected arousal. The variety was astonishing - different sizes, shapes, and skin tones filled her screen.

Without fully realizing what she was doing, Meg's free hand began to wander. Her breathing quickened as her fingers slipped beneath the waistband of her yoga pants. As she continued to scroll through the photos, her touch became more insistent.

As Meg continued to scroll through the messages, her arousal grew more intense. The explicit photos and bold words painted vivid pictures in her mind. She imagined strong hands caressing her body, lips trailing kisses down her neck. Her fingers moved faster, her breath coming in short gasps.

One message caught her eye: "You've got me so hard, it's your fault. What are you going to do about it?" Meg's heart raced as she read those words. She pictured the sender - perhaps an older, overweight man with greasy hair and yellowed teeth. In her mind's eye, she saw his leering grin as he approached her.

The image should have repulsed her, but in her heightened state, it only fueled her desire. She imagined his rough hands groping her, his hot breath on her skin. Her back arched as she neared her peak.

With a cry of release, Meg's body shuddered in ecstasy. As the waves of pleasure washed over her, she collapsed back onto the couch, panting heavily.

Meg recoiled at the vivid images her mind had conjured. Why had she imagined such a grotesque man? Her stomach churned as she replayed the fantasy - his yellowed teeth, his greasy hair, his leering grin. She felt a wave of revulsion wash over her.

"What's wrong with me?" she whispered, her voice trembling. The loneliness must be affecting her more deeply than she realized if she was fantasizing about someone so repulsive.

Yet even as disgust filled her, Meg found her hand drifting back down her body. She imagined the man's rough hands on her smooth skin, his calloused fingers a stark contrast to her softness. In her mind's eye, she saw him fumbling with a condom wrapper before tossing it aside.

"No glove, no love, sweetheart," he'd growl. "This is my one shot at tight young pussy like yours. I'm not wasting it."

Meg's fingers moved faster as the scenario unfolded in her imagination. She pictured him thrusting roughly, grunting with each movement. When she whimpered about pulling out, he only laughed.

"Not a chance, baby. I'm shooting every drop deep inside you."

With a gasp, Meg yanked her hand away from her body. What was happening to her? How could she be aroused by something so irresponsible and potentially dangerous? She curled into herself on the couch,she felt ashamed, but couldn't stop her vivid imagination from continuing the scenario. In her mind, she protested weakly as the man grunted and thrust roughly. "Please, you need to pull out," she whimpered. But he only laughed cruelly and gripped her hips tighter.

"Not a chance, sweetheart," he growled. "I'm gonna fill you up good."

Meg's body betrayed her as waves of pleasure built. She imagined feeling every twitch and pulse as he finished inside her with a loud groan. The thought of being used so carelessly sent her over the edge. Her back arched as an intense orgasm ripped through her, leaving her trembling and gasping.

As the high faded, Meg felt weak and boneless. She lay there panting, mind hazy with lingering arousal. The thought flitted through her mind that anyone could walk in and have their way with her right now - she'd be helpless to resist. That idea sent another shiver of forbidden excitement through her spent body.

Meg squeezed her eyes shut, conflicted by her own reactions. What was happening to her? How could such irresponsible scenarios arouse her so intensely? She knew she should feel ashamed, but her body still tingled with lingering desire.

Meg's fingers trembled as she picked up her phone again. Her body was still flushed and tingling from her intense climax. She navigated back to the message that had sparked her vivid fantasy:

"You've got me so hard, it's your fault. What are you going to do about it?"

Heart pounding, she began to type a reply:

"I just came so hard thinking about your cock. Tell me more..."

She hesitated for a moment before hitting send, but her arousal overrode her better judgment. Within seconds, a new message appeared:

"Fuck, that's hot. I'd bend you over right now and slam into you from behind. My hands would grip your hips as I pounded you hard and deep. You'd feel every thick inch stretching you open."

Meg gasped softly as she read the words. Her hand drifted back between her thighs, finding herself still slick with arousal. As she began to touch herself again, she pictured the scene he described - her body bent over her desk at work, skirt hiked up around her waist as a faceless man took her roughly from behind.