“What happened last night?” That’s what I ask myself after waking up from what felt like an “orgasmic hangover”. Body drained, sheets wet, and a slight headache from concentrating so hard on releasing her tension.
“What should I do?” I’ve read Jay’s text message eight times now and still, am a little confused on what actually happened last night.
That’s been a gift and curse of mine for years. The ability to fantasize and concentrate so hard that I wake up and feel like I performed in reality, what I fantasized about mentally.
Sadly, I had made the mistaken assumption that I was over that part of my life and that I could control it better now.
That had always been a problem for men to deal with. My sex IQ was so high and I was so in tune with my body that I could mentally cum whenever I chose to.
During my time at Clark Atlanta University, there were plenty of times I found myself in the last row of the 300 seat, auditorium, where Professor Whatley taught Organic Chemistry.
I really hope they have changed those seats by now. I never seemed to grab enough paper towels from the restroom to cover the auditorium seats.
I can remember it like it was yesterday, “Students turn to page 46 in your book.” Before I could get passed the fifteenth page I was already leaking.
The space in between the row in front of me would have provided just enough space for my boyfriend, at the time, to kneel down in front of me, force my legs apart, exposing my already throbbing clit, and perform so well you would think he’d taken, “PSL, Pussy as a Second Language”.
I was able to feel his patented technique. He would lick so deep into me that his motions resembled a cat lapping up milk. The motion of his lower jaw being inside me and then out, his chin, then being inside me while his tongue covered my clit, was simply too much to control and yes I came on the chair.
That pretty much explains why I got a B instead of an A in the class. I was slightly distracted more than half the time, by sexual fantasies.
Now back to Jay, I think I’ll call him, but I’ll do it after lunch. I don’t want to press him and overload him with, “I already miss you’s” and “When can I see you’s again” I needed to pace myself, or at least that’s what I was selling myself.
Buzz! Buzz! It was a text from Jay at 9:54a on that Saturday morning.
Dammit, I can’t even read it. I was too nervous. Too afraid of whether or not I had exposed too much about myself and my sexuality. Was it a turn off? Did I come off as fast? Wait a minute, Did I even do anything?
Danielle, you are a grown woman, check the damn message. I grab the phone and look at it. “Sexy Jay”. I know it’s cheesy, but that was my personal name for him. A name he didn’t even know he had, lol.
“How are you feeling this morning? Did you sleep okay?” Jay was generally pretty good about checking on me. I liked that attentive side of him.
“GM Jay, I am doing fine this morning. I had a rough nights sleep, but I’m okay now. How about you?”
“I’m doing pretty good. I’m at a customer’s site installing their security system now. I just wanted to check on you. You seemed pretty shaken up last night.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I just got a little light headed, but I’m okay now.”
“We need to talk, Danielle. So let me know when you’re free. I have a lot to do tonight, at home, so I can call you around 7p if that’s okay?”
“Jay, Is everything okay? 7p is fine.”
Oh hell, What was the problem? Everything had been going so well between us, I couldn’t shake that thought.
7p rolls around and I have spent the whole day running errands, working out, talking to my girls, and my parents, just to keep my mind from wandering.
“Seems like your ready…I could have sworn you were ready…” I definitely need to change his ring tone. R. Kelly (Seems like you’re ready)
“Hey Jay, How was work?”
“It was good, but I think I need to tell you something.”
What in the hell was he about to tell me? He has a girlfriend. He’s married. He doesn’t like me. He has a child. WHAT?
“Okay, Jay, we talk about everything anyway so go ahead.”
“Okay Dani, Do you remember when we were at dinner and they were showing us how to devein shrimp and cut tomatoes, you asked me if I was having fun.”
“Yes, I remember. Did you not have fun?”
“Yes, but it was bitter sweet. Don’t take this the wrong way, but as much as I wanted to be respectful, I wanted to take the knife and tomatoes from you and place your hand right on the crotch of my slacks. I was so hard that it start to feel uncomfortable from throbbing and wanting to stretch out.”
“Danielle, are you still there?”
“Yes, I am just listening. Why were you so aroused?”
“To be honest, I had been fantasizing about you since the grocery store, but didn’t want to slow or side track my learning about you, with mind blowing sex.”
“Well you sound pretty confident. How do you know it would have been “mind blowing?”
“Dani, don’t ever again doubt me. I’m serious. If we go there, we will turn into something else. I have paid a lot more attention to you than you know.”
“Okay. Excuse me, Mr. Jay.”
“Whatever, lol! I just had to confess that.”
“Well, thank you for your honesty!”
“Dani, when I met you I played it out in my head.”
I would have kissed you, soft at first, but then much more passionately. I would have distracted you so much from shopping that you would have dropped the basket, causing food to go everywhere, as I used my free hands to pull your jogging pants down to your knees.
I noticed the honey right behind you, which I would have used on my tongue before going down on you. Down there, I don’t play, Dani. I could tell by your walk that your pussy was thick, almost like you had to walk around it.
If you’ve never had apples dipped in honey…It can’t be matched.
Dipping my tongue in and out, as I pulled your panties to the side, and used my thumb to press your clit like a button, you would have had no choice , but to cum for me and on me.
When I picked you up I imagined you answering the door and greeting me with a hug, unzipping my pants, and releasing all of my erect 8 or so inches into your, already lip glossed and waiting mouth. Taking as much in as you could, before using your right hand to milk me until cum dripped down your mouth and chest and your left hand playing with your pussy so that you could cum at the same time.
When I dropped you back off I imagined fucking you outside the car. Snatching your panties down to your ankles and bending you over, the front half of your body inside my car door window, you grabbing the door and trying to hold on for dear life as I dig so deeply from behind, that you have to reach back to regulate my stroke so that you could feel that shit all through you. It would feel like my dick was touching every nerve ending in your body.
You’d cum again, almost ripping my break away mirrors off. I would drop to my knees and starts to suck on your juices from behind as you tried your best to keep up with the stimulation change mixed with a truly sensitive clit.
The next day after we exchanged text messages. I imagined calling you on the phone and going through every fantasy I’d had about you for the last couple of weeks. Talking so descriptively that I could hear the subtle moans through the phone as you tried, but not too hard to disguise the fact that you were masturbating while talking to me.
I imagined you being so turned on by my voice and words that you sat alone in the living room wetting up the towel you’d placed on the couch and floor below as soon as I called as if you’d planned for it.
I imagined knocking on the door and joining your “session” providing any assistance you needed.
“Knock…Knock…Knock…” You have got to be kidding me. “Jay, hold one a minute okay? Someones at my door… Jay? Did you hear me?”