*21 #Fantasy

While she knew it was physically impossible for her bones to melt, Teddi felt sure that hers had.  The last time she’d had sex that good had been…  Well, it was a very long time ago, and this brought back blissful memories of it.

 

 Jon was passionate, unapologetic, and willing to let a woman take the lead.  All were traits she appreciated in her boudoir, especially when they were used to the point of her exhaustion. 

 

She slumped forward onto his chest just long enough to roll gingerly to the side, where she landed on her back and subtly gulped for air.  His breathing didn’t appear to be labored, of course, either because he was in better shape or she did most of the work.  Maybe both.  Either way, the hand on his chest rose and fell at a nearly normal rate.  With both eyes closed, one would almost think he was asleep. 

 

That notion was dispelled when his breathing blossomed to a softly groaned, “Hashtag O-M-F-G.”

 

Teddi laughed wearily and bumped his thigh with a knee.  “Incorrigible.”

 

“Never denied it,” he drawled, flipping onto his left hip to face her and using a hand to prop his head.  “And incorrigible brings Dave to mind, along with a subject I wanna talk about.  Thing is… I can’t decide if that’s what I most wanna talk about.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“Mhm.  Also in the running are you, your bedroom, our lack of a rubber and whether your boyfriend is gonna be pissed.  Not that I actually care about the last one, but you might.”

 

“Must you douse my afterglow with a firehose?” Teddi sighed with pretended annoyance, since this didn’t technically qualify as afterglow.

 

In her book, afterglow was the moment in which lovers couldn’t quite bear to separate themselves.  The span of time reserved for clinging to one another for support as they descended from an otherworldly place and renewed their footing in reality.  

 

What was taking place under the lanterns and scarves tied to her bed frame was physical recuperation.  The only glowing was her skin under a sheen of perspiration.  This may have been a fantasy and feel like a dream, but Teddi wasn’t delusional enough to think it was more than sex. 

 

“My firehose can’t douse anything for at least an hour,” he countered with a dry snort.  “That was a five-alarm fire that needed puttin’ out down there.  Question is whether my prolific swimmers are going to find a pool party down there and jump on the float.”

 

She let her head fall to the side and squinted an eye his way.   

 

“Is that your creative way of asking about the potential for pregnancy?” The flash of white teeth confirmed it, and Teddi snickered. “If this is your birth control approach, I’m amazed you don’t have enough offspring to populate a small country.  I rather assumed you had a vasectomy years ago.”

 

The lazy smile disappeared, and a sharply arched eyebrow took up residence instead.  “How much do you know about me?”

 

What Teddi knew would fill volumes.  She could tell him the most interesting interviews were nearly impossible to find now, but that she had them digitally archived.  She could provide a list of his favorite foods, an in-depth analysis of his body language, and a sizable thesis on his reported sexual preferences. 

 

But she wouldn’t. 

 

Because, with the exception of her digital archive, it was mostly conjecture.  She’d already come to the conclusion that she didn’t know him, just a bunch of facts and figures he saw fit to feed the world. 

 

“My knowledge of you depends on your level of honesty during interviews.”

 

“Then you know about half what you think you do.”

 

She smiled bemusedly at the ceiling, unsurprised.  He would be a fool for saying some of those things if they were true.  One thing she’d learned during the last few weeks was that Jon wasn’t a fool. 

 

“Alright.  To answer your question, pregnancy isn’t a concern.  You can also mark STDs off your list of post coital chitchat, because I have a clean bill of health.  Can you say the same?”

 

“I can, as a matter of fact.”  Jon snickered and shook his head.  “Why the fuck do you hide behind that proper PhD mask of yours?  What’s behind it is so much more interesting.”

 

That question required revealing more than just her body, and Teddi wasn’t willing to do that, so she treated the question as rhetorical and moved down his laundry list.  “We can also tick the jealous boyfriend – or lack thereof – off the list.”

 

“So, the date guy…?”

 

The “date guy” hadn’t ended up in this room on his last visit.  When Pierce offered his hand to escort her on the journey upstairs, Teddi had accepted – and then squeezed it with an apology that the evening wouldn’t go as expected.  Of all things, they ended up watching an old movie together.  Pierce was surprised at her choice of a western – Young Guns II – but she shrugged and told him that there was more to life than classic novels.

 

After the movie, he delivered a chaste kiss to her cheek and wished her well.  It felt much like a goodbye, and she was thankful that he didn’t make her say it.  Their time together had come to an end – at least until memories of this night weren’t enough to satisfy her.  Then she’d reconsider.

 

Since that was weeks or months down the road, she found no reason to share the unorthodox details of her “dating” life with Jon. 

 

In truth, it wasn’t really that unorthodox.  Money and history were the only differences in her arrangement with Pierce and what just happened here.  History made tonight more satisfying than any paid visits, but they were all just brief, physical interludes. 

 

What’s Jon’s definition of brief, though?  He went to the trouble of firing you.    

 

And he’d likely hire her back as soon as he got dressed again.  Until then, he was lounging with a hand supporting the left side of his jaw, sex-styled hair sticking out at all angles while waiting for an answer.

 

“Pierce is just a friend.” 

 

“So, you didn’t fuck him in this…”  The hand that had been shielding his crotch lifted to gesture at the lanterns.  “…unpredictably bright bed of yours?”

 

Teddi eased onto her side to face him, without thought to the tummy and too-large breasts whose firmness had waned in recent years.  Each day, she made a concentrated effort to camouflage those and other imperfections, but not here. 

 

The boudoir was her sole cocoon of safety.  Inside these four walls, she had the freedom to simply… be.  There was no retribution or reprimand for doing what came naturally.  There was no was no anxiety or second-guessing her thoughts and actions.  There was only sweet liberty – that was made sweeter by the man now toying with her nipple.

 

Outside these four walls, his touch had quelled her anxiety.  Inside these four walls, it invited her to be bold.  Brassy.  Daring. 

 

“Are you asking because you want to hear x-rated stories?”

 

The way his eyes popped wide sent a thrill through her.  It was followed by another when he gave her nipple a sharp tweak. “Anything x-rated tonight won’t be a story, baby.  It’ll be live action.”

 

Pushing back the excitement at the possibility of extending their intimate encounter, she wrapped his fist in hers and dryly chided, “That didn’t answer my question.”

 

“And you didn’t answer mine,” was Jon’s counter.  “Did you fuck him here?”

“Don’t bend, don’t break, baby, don’t back down.”

 

The lyric she’d often used to bolster her courage was as inspirational as ever, and tonight it empowered an already fearless Teddi.   “I sent him away so I could come here and masturbate.  To fantasize of you.”

 

Sleepy blue eyes came to attention with a spark that bounced directly to her uterus.  The muscles there contracted abruptly, and then quivered with anticipation when he slid his hand free from hers. 

 

He was going to touch her.  It was written all over his face; his body.  Even his aura screamed that those capable, blunt-tipped fingers were going swimming in the flood plain between her thighs. 

 

“Tell me about your fantasy, Gypsy girl.”

 

He hadn’t hit anything particularly sensitive yet.  There was just a gentle brush against her mound as he stroked the fluff there, but her hormones were already on full alert.  Her brief interlude had turned out to be a two-act show, and intermission was over.

 

“You’re vulgar in my fantasies,” she warned.  “Doing things a proper woman shouldn’t even imagine.”

 

He nudged a wrist at Teddi’s thigh until she parted them, and then scraped a gentle nail along the inside edge of her inner labia.  When she drew a quick breath, he smirked.  “Sounds like you got me pegged, but just for fun… what kind of things?”

 

A finger dipped to her already saturated core and spread the juices outward.  He slicked up one side until almost touching the pulsating nub that ached for his attention, but Jon denied it.  He smoothly retreated down the swollen valley, this time for a two-fingered helping of desire that he rubbed along the other side to generate a sweet friction.  Her sensitive flesh tugged under the perfect amount of pressure as he stroked, still not touching her clit. 

 

“You like oral sex.”

 

“Proved that already,” he murmured dryly, leaning into her breathing space and skating the side of his nose along hers.  “Every sane person likes oral.  What else?”

 

“You’re obsessed with my flavor.”  The two fingers snugged inside her again, and Teddi exhaled richly.   “You finger me and lick them clean.  Then you make me finger myself so you can lick mine clean, too.”

 

“Yeah.  That doesn’t sound vulgar, either.  Does sound enjoyable, though.”  His tongue flicked to touch the corner of Teddi’s mouth, as though the taste he wanted was there.  “How about we mix it up?  You can clean me.”

 

Many years ago, she’d read that he had an oral fixation.  She didn’t yet know whether it was true or not, but if it was, she shared it.  Licking his fingers sounded decadently improper, and the thought of outright sucking them had her nipples puckering with excitement. 

 

She felt empty without his mild invasion at her core but didn’t have long to dwell on it, as he was gently scraping his fingerprint along her bottom lip.  With the aroma of sex filling her nostrils, she had little doubt which finger was sensually glossing her, and the scent grew bolder when his adjacent finger traced the bow of her mouth.  

 

When he reached the outside corner, Teddi instinctively compressed her lips.  They were pressed tight, refusing to admit the fingertip pressing against their seam. 

 

He didn’t force her.  Jon took his time, skimming the end of his nose along her cheekbone and edging into the curtain of her hair to inhale.  When he exhaled in Teddi’s ear, it carried the steam of his breath and whispered words. 

 

“Suck it, baby.  Suck it like you did my cock.”

 

His pressure gradually increased until he breached the closure with her hissed breath.  The intruding digit was soft yet firm.  Salty and sweet, earthy and heavenly, naughty and nice.  She latched onto it with a whimper, puckering around the solid meatiness and curling her tongue to cradle it.  Teddi took it to the root and then swabbed the webbing at the base before going back to lap at the middle knuckle and finally suckling the tip. 

 

“Jesus H. Christ.” Jon had leaned back to watch, and she opened her eyes to find him watching her with untempered desire.  “You’re so much more than beige.  So fucking much more.”

 

Taking a final up and down swipe of the scandalous finger, she released it with a punishing nip of the pad for his beige comment.  Her lack of interest in making him explain that comment was surprising, but she’d long ago given up letting her mind rule her body in the bedroom.  There was a restlessness in her womb that wouldn’t settle – couldn’t settle – until it was satisfied. 

 

“I need to come,” she said between quick licks of his other fingers.  “Would you like to help or just watch?”

 

His nostrils flared.  “You have a preference?”

 

“Yes.”  She dusted his cheek with a quick caress.  “Watch me.”

 

Jon couldn’t believe this wanton woman was the same one he’d first met.  Whoever that anxiety-riddled PhD was, it certainly wasn’t the woman jockeying into position and reaching between her spread legs to order, “Lie back and watch how good you make me feel without a single touch.”

 

That was hot enough to have his dick lifting a curious head already, but Jon let it lie and scooted back onto the standard bed pillows.  All the little decorative pillows were scattered on the floor around the bed, and she grabbed one to tuck behind her head. 

 

“Let me tell you about my fantasy world,” she began, as though starting that x-rated story mentioned earlier.  “I can say from experience that you’re an exceptional lover.  The best I’ve ever had.  But in the fantasies leading up to tonight, you’re just a bit different.”

 

Two brazen fingers snugged into her pussy, just as his had, but hers didn’t come right back out.  She twisted her wrist and then held still. 

 

“Tell me what you’re doing.”  The command was gruff as Jon succumbed to the need to touch himself. 

 

“Massaging my g-spot, just like you did earlier.  As in my fantasies, you knew just how to manipulate it.  Fantasy Jon is obsessed with taking it to extremes.  Extremes only he can achieve.  It’s almost like my physical body receives the pleasure on a different plane than my mind.  It doesn’t come with the fulfillment of an orgasm, but my sheets are soaked when fantasy Jon works me over.  Mmpf…”

 

Fantasy Teddi was working herself over, and her chin tipped to the ceiling as the first trickle seeped into the sheets. 

 

“He likes having me nice and wet.  He likes being the reason that happens.  He praises me for it.”

 

“Not ‘he’,” Jon corrected, wrapping a loose fist around his dick.  “Me. I’m the one soaking your sheets.  Telling you how responsive you are, and what a fucking turn-on it is.”

 

“Mmm…  You, then.”  Slippery fingers came out of their secret hideaway and flitted through the shiny pink slit that was ruddy with anticipation.  “You tell me I’m exactly what a woman should be.  That sex is my calling in life.”

 

He wasn’t going to disagree with that theory.  She was a sexual goddess, manipulating her pussy without effort, while also plumping one breast and performing a fancy twist of the nipple.  Teddi Montgomery was made for physical pleasure and she knew how to create it, even at a distance. 

 

Jon’s hand pumped slowly as she pinched her clit and breathed, “You love the taste of me.  The scent.  You say it’s more delectable after I come, though.  You get impatient with me.”

 

The woman was a porn movie come to life.  The ruddiness of excitement was seeping outward, sponging away the simple flesh-tone that seemed too much like beige.  Her thighs, arms, chest and neck were flushed to not a delicate shade of pink, but a womanly one.  Three shades lighter than the lip she was chewing raw as she diddled herself. 

 

“What do I do, baby?”

 

Closed eyelids cracked and glassy irises found his.  “Feast on me.  Consume me without thought of scraping whiskers, sensitive spots, or even breathing.  You’re brutal in your passion.  Single-minded and desperate to make me come.  No matter what it takes.”

 

Good God almighty.  Jon jacked himself, finding it harder and harder to breathe as she writhed against the bed, manipulating all her pleasure spots.  For him.  For her.  For the sheer erotica of it. 

 

“Tell me what it takes.”

 

“You… You want to know?”  She asked through shallow panting, and he instinctively matched her inhale for exhale, stroke for diddle.  Her ass squirmed against the mattress grinding its fleshiness flat with the exertion.  Teddi was close, but she still had it in her to gasp, “You really want to know?” 

 

 “Fuck, yes.”  Jon was edging to the point of no return and slowed his strokes to pace himself.  He wasn’t going over that edge until she did.  If he had to dig in and hang on by his fingernails.  “Tell me, dammit!”

 

Her tongue darted out, stealing a lick of top lip and the sticky honey he put there.  He knew she was tasting herself.  Did she like it?  Did she realize how fucking good it was?  Or was she just taunting him for the sake of it?

 

“You beg.  You beg me to come.  You’re so… desperate… to drink me, that you beg... for it.  Gah!”

 

The sharp gasp was the indicator that she was about to go.  He could make her go.  Jon fisted harder and fed her fantasy.

 

“You like to hear me beg?  Know how much I want to taste you?  To gobble your pussy dry?”

 

“Aaaahh!”

 

When she cracked and split with a cry, Jon flung himself after her with a swallowed groan of completion.  God she was good, and he’d give it to her…  She had a hell of a fantasy life, and it would be pretty cool to bring part of it to life. 

 

But the part where he begged?  That shit would always be a fantasy.