​
 

Lady parts - it’s undeniable that they look pretty bizarre. I wonder if they weren’t so taboo, would they seem as strange? Maybe it’s because we go to such great lengths to keep them covered. Perhaps if we were more accustomed to seeing them, they wouldn’t appear so alien. 

Of course guys don’t have it any better. Their situation isn’t just more awkward looking, I would go so far as to call it inconvenient. I’m sure it’s not just me who thinks it a serious design flaw to have such sensitive bits dangling around outside of the body. 

I wonder . . . do they ever accidentally sit on them?  

I had zoned out, which was a terrible habit of mine. People generally thought me rude because I didn’t pay enough attention to what they were saying. Others whispered that I was weird, because when the teacher would call on me, I’d look lost and have to ask for the question to be repeated. More than once I’d been called a snob, because apparently when deep in thought, I’d catch a serious case of resting bitch face. All of the above was just a small contribution to why I felt socially awkward on most days.

My attention snapped back to reality as the guest speaker for our life skills class, Miranda Something, from the Family Something Council, drew a large circle on the white board.

“Imagine, this is a tiny pin prick in a condom that you were using for ‘protection’.” She actually made air quotes with her fingers as she said the word “protection”. 

Miranda then drew a smaller circle. “In comparison, this is how large a single sperm is.” She added a little squiggle for the tail. Last, she made a tiny dot. “Next to that, this is how large the AIDS virus is. So obviously, there is nothing stopping these from getting through there. This is yet another reason why the safest form of protection from pregnancy and STDs is abstinence only!”

I looked around the room at my peers. Many of them appeared pale and sickened, though that was possibly still the lingering effects of watching the horror slide show of genitalia stricken with extreme cases of herpes, gonorrhea, and other STIs. 

Frankly, I wasn’t surprised at the use of scare tactics. I lived in the Bible belt, where it was unusual to be educated fairly on the durability of condoms, let alone on how to actually put one of those things on a guy. 

For goodness sake, how are you supposed to do that!? THAT is going to be an awkward moment. And what is a girl supposed to do while a guy is putting it on himself? It seems like it would be rude to stare, so should I look away while he is tearing open one of those shiny little wrappers? Should I try to help, or would it make that weird moment even more awkward?  

In my usual first-time fantasies, everything happened smoothly. I imagined there being a perfect transition between making out and having sex. Unfortunately, in that fantasy, I hadn’t quite worked out where the guy slides one on without ruining the vibe. As for real life, I wasn’t a complete idiot. 

If it is ever going to happen, there will be protection. Awkward or not, I’m sure I’ll get over it.

I let my eyes pan over the room once more. It seemed everyone was persuaded by Miranda’s tactics. Okay, maybe not Jack or Ben in the back of the room. They appeared to be having a difficult time muffling their laughter as they swapped jokes. If the teacher hadn’t moved my seat weeks ago for “inappropriate behavior,” I probably would’ve been laughing right along with them. Of course, Mrs. Jenkins gave them the stink eye, as their antics hadn’t gone unnoticed, but apparently the teacher did not want to interrupt our esteemed guest speaker in order to reprimand them.

I sighed. 

Do abstinence-only education advocates genuinely think this is going to work? Can they actually keep lusty teens from having sex by working this angle? Most of these people have already done the big IT anyway. Seriously, Jessica in the third row looks like she could pop out a kid at any moment, so this class definitely isn’t helping her much. If they honestly want to prevent teen pregnancy and STDs, maybe these sex talks should tell people our age that it’s counterproductive to wear more than one condom at once, or at least mention that birth control doesn't always work when you’re taking antibiotics! 

The only reason I knew so much was from talking to girls like Jessica. Most of my peers would probably learn that stuff later in life, because they typically treated their pregnant classmates like pariahs. And of course, masturbation hadn’t even been brought up at all as an alternative to sex. I read somewhere about a politician who once tried to promote teen abstinence by encouraging masturbation. Sound logic or not, her political career went into a tailspin after that.

I propped my chin into my open palm with my elbow on the desk. I suddenly felt tired of all of it. I had my own reasons for not getting laid yet, of course. Though at that point, I was beginning to lose sight of just what they were, exactly. Originally, I was just trying to make it to the age of 16 before having sex. Despite the ever-present push from modern day feminism attempting to normalize women’s sexuality, I had the idea stuck in my head that it was the magic age where losing it wouldn’t be too promiscuous. Though not long after I turned 16, I convinced myself that I should wait for the “right guy,” whatever that meant. It had been two years since I made that resolution. I had turned eighteen in November, and wasn’t sure how I had managed to hang on so long. I had loads of opportunities. Just never with the right person at the right time. 

I used to think I was holding out for love. Secretly, I yearned for that knock-you-down, take-your-breath-away feeling of being lost in another person. Or at least I once did. Recently, the concept of someone else having that kind of power over me was kind of scary. I was also beginning to think it wasn’t a particularly realistic thing to hope for. It wasn’t as though I thought I’d never find love, but many people struggle to find the genuine article in their lifetime. Plus, I worried that when I did, it wouldn’t be all magical like I had hoped anyway. With both my sexual frustration, and my impatience growing, I was basically ready to settle for less.

Maybe it would be fine to just find someone especially attractive? No, probably not. What about someone who makes me feel safe, not just some douchebag out to get in my pants? 

I suppose what I actually want for my first time is for it to be some kind of something special. I deserve that much right? Of course I do! I owe it to myself. But damn it, being a virgin is seriously overrated.

I had zoned out yet again. Miranda had passed out pamphlets to the class. I glanced at a few of the titles. One read “101 Reasons for Abstinence.” Another was titled, “Why Waiting for Marriage Makes Saying 'I Do' Harder to Undo.” 

Miranda then resumed speaking emphatically. “Imagine that making love is like a wonderful cake you’ve baked for someone special. Now imagine you are on your way to bring that special person their cake. Say you run into some people who each ask for one piece. What if you said yes? You then give each person a slice of your cake one after another, and by the time you reach your special friend, the cake you made them is no longer beautiful or whole. Now it’s been hacked apart and left a mess. You wouldn't want to do that to your special someone would you? It’s the same way with sex before marriage. You should want to present your future spouse a whole and intact gift that is meant only for them.” 

Before I could control the impulse, I blurted out, “Bullshit! You can run out of cake, but you can’t run out of sex! And for that matter, maybe your special someone would enjoy ‘your cake’ more if you have prior experience baking!” 

 Jack and Ben burst into boisterous laughter and many other students in the room followed suit.  Mrs. Jenkins cleared her throat in the most admonishing way she could muster. “Celeste, are you looking for a trip to the dean’s office? You need to watch your language, and please keep any future outbursts to yourself!”

Miranda, looking incredibly annoyed and put her hand up toward Mrs. Jenkins, interrupting with her thick southern accent. “It’s all right.” She then cleared her throat and narrowed her eyes at me. “It’s a shame that a young woman, such as yourself, would choose to express herself in such an unbecoming manner. Society often believes such things are a sign of poor breeding and even lower intelligence. A word of advice; in the future, if you find yourself incapable of expressing yourself with civil words, you may recognize it would be far more ladylike to remain silent.” She glared at me with an air of self-righteousness.

I raised my eyebrows. 

My classmates' amused mutters and whispers filled the room.

My temper completely dissolved my ability to keep my mouth shut. “Actually, I have a rather diverse and extensive vocabulary, coupled with the mental acuity to employ it properly and effectively. However, I personally have always regarded it as dishonest to say something ugly by painting it with pretty words. I suppose I consider myself to be more straightforward than that. But I can certainly understand why someone of your--” I looked her up and down with disdain, “--caliber, would make such simple ASSumptions.” When I was through speaking I sat back in my chair and gave Miranda a lasting look of defiance. I kept my eyes locked with hers, undaunted by her outrage.

“That is more than enough, Celeste!” Mrs. Jenkins gasped out almost desperately.

The room was filled with hissing noises and smothered laughter. One kid whispered to another in embarrassment, “What does acuity mean?”

Miranda opened her mouth to fire back, but the term “saved by the bell” never rang so true until that moment. The signal for class's ending erupted throughout the school. I shoved the pamphlets into my book bag and slung it over my shoulder in one smooth swing. Miranda gave me a searing glare as I strode past her, and I returned her look with an ear to ear smirk, because I could think of nothing cleverer to do.

Jack declared as he and Ben caught up to me, “Killer timing, Celeste, you couldn't have planned it better.” 

Ben then cut in, “Yeah, gingers have all the luck. Just like leprechauns. It’s just too bad you guys don’t have souls.”

“Ben! That is not true and you know it!” I spoke with intentionally wild eyes. “In fact, every freckle on my face is like a merit badge for a soul I’ve stolen.”  

“Ooo. That means I’ve got one too then.”

  He pointed out a freckle on his arm, nearly imperceptible against his smooth dark skin. He then plopped his skateboard to the ground and to slowly glide alongside us down the hall.

I smirked. “Is that from that time Jack sold his soul to you for a bag of potato chips in geography last year?”

“Can’t be,” Jack said. “It was only a six-month lease for half my soul.”

“Was not.” Ben snapped.

“Was too!” Jack kicked at Ben’s board trying to trip him up with a laugh. “I saved my copy of the contract.”

Ben rolled his eyes. “Well, I’m almost sad that we didn’t get to see that lady completely wig out.”

We stepped out of the air-conditioned building into the Florida heat and humidity, which felt similar to cannonballing into a hot bath, and I was grateful that, for once, I wouldn’t have to walk home from my bus stop in it.  As that thought crossed my mind, I scanned the chaotic crowd as we drew near the student parking lot. 

I was looking for Diana, my short and saucy best friend since kindergarten. I spotted her making out with a guy against the wall by the gym. She had him pinned, with one leg up on his hip. His hands were wrapped around her back in a respectful region of her torso.

“Who's that?” Jack inquired, sounding wounded.

I lowered my voice.“That's her new boyfriend. She met him a couple weeks ago at karaoke night.” 

“Man, I know we were only going to prom as friends, but is she gonna ditch me now that she is seeing someone?”

I shrugged. “You’ll have to ask her about that yourself.”

Jack responded with a grumble and a sigh, while pushing his trendy black frames up on the bridge of his nose.

Ben gave him an encouraging pat on the shoulder and said, “We'll see you later, Celeste.”

They departed toward the student parking lot, and I kept walking toward Diana and her boyfriend, Jeremy. As I closed the gap between us I cleared my throat loudly three times to get their attention. “Okay y'all, we get it. Sucking face is super awesome.”

She pulled away, grinning. He stared at her like no one else was around. That moment reminded me how grateful I was that she had him, and that she had finally moved on from her controlling ex.

Jeremy gently thrust his pointed chin into the air in my general direction. “Hey, Celeste.” His kind face smiled warmly, lighting up his pretty boy features. He then raked his fingers back through his sandy blond hair, as he looked down affectionately at Diana again.

Diana turned around and gave me a big warm hug with her tiny frame. “Hey Girly!” Her baby browns were alight with mischief as she squeezed my ribcage a little too hard. 

“Hey, Hun.” I bent down a bit to hug her back.

“Ooo, I wanna get in on the action!” Our friend Marie came bounding up from out of the crowds and nearly tackled us, adding to the embrace. 

“Hey Sugar!” I said, hugging her back.

Some stereotypical jock walking by, whistled and shouted, “Woo-hoo, lezzy threesome! Can I watch?”

We collectively rolled our eyes, and flipped him the bird. 

Marie shouted, “Girls-only party here, jerk off!”

Jeremy, still not accustomed to our rowdiness, stood there idly and scratched the back of his head.

I paused for a moment to take in Marie’s buoyant behavior. She seemed especially whimsical that day, with her thick black hair in pigtails, and vibrant-colored clothing.  Her Filipino flag lanyard clacked with her movements as it was laden down with at least ten adorable little keychains.

“So, what are y’all up to?” Marie asked, coming up for air from our layers of arms.

I straightened up and shifted my heavy bag. “Jeremy was gonna give us a lift over to Diana's house so we could watch a campy zombie flick and work on our Biology project.” 

“Um, actually,” Diana chimed in. “Jeremy got called in to work tonight to cover for someone, so he doesn't have time to hang out. He could still give you a ride home though.

I could hear the engines of the fleet of buses across campus taking off and going their separate routes. “Good, because it’s definitely too late for me to catch my bus.”

Marie looked at her flip phone and then off toward the parent pick-up lot. “Yeah, I should go. My mom is waiting.”

“Okay then, we’ll see you later, Sugar! You ready to go, Celeste?” Diana picked up her book bag off the ground. Jeremy wordlessly took it from her and slung it over his own shoulder. They held hands as they walked.

“You both are too sweet… It’s gross,” I teased.

“Well, if we are making you sick, you can always walk home,” she sassed back.

As we were walking I spotted Liam leaning against his car, talking to a cluster of his friends. His arm was around his on again, off again girlfriend. My heart skipped a beat. The bright sunlight made his brown hair shine with blond highlights, and his sultry brown eyes glinted with gold. I let my eyes linger on him for too long as he stood there with that charming smile, all tall, lean, bronze skinned, and gorgeous; definitely a healthy-looking specimen of a male.

He looked in our direction, then waved and smiled at Diana. I made sure to look away quickly, pretending to be unaware of his existence, before I let out a slight whimper.

Diana knew my completely screwed up feelings I harbored for him. She rubbed my shoulder soothingly. “You're pathetic.” 

I rolled my eyes, and then playfully swatted her butt. 

That’s when I heard my name called.

 Not from a distance. It was said low and soft, almost like someone was right next to me and intimately spoke it into my ear. 

I stopped in my tracks, and turned a full circle looking around. No one was in immediate proximity, and everyone nearby seemed to be minding their own business. 

Now I’m hearing things? I instinctively touched my ear as my eyes flicked from person to person, looking for a possible source of the voice.

As my inquisitive look went completely ignored, my mind could come up with no better explanation than I simply had an invisible stalker. Amused by my own absurdness, a smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. I then turned back around to catch up to Diana and Jeremy.

We made our way through the parking lot toward Jeremy's late model Mitsubishi. It was sleek and shiny, his high school graduation present from the previous year.

I rode in back. Diana sat shotgun next to Jeremy. The stereo made it difficult to hear anything they were saying. I felt like a third wheel.  

The drive to my house was long.  I figured they were taking me home first so they could have a little alone time after dropping me off. 

I leaned forward and spoke loudly over the music. “You know, Jack is wondering if you are still going to prom with him.”

Diana looked annoyed. “Well, he can put on his big boy panties and talk to me about it if he wants to.”

“I know. That’s what I told him.”

She sighed, sharing a brief look with Jeremy. “Anyway, I’m going to figure something out that will work best for everyone. I made him a promise, and I will do my best to keep it.” Jeremy seemed mildly annoyed at this declaration.

They dropped me off at the mailbox in front of my family’s old house, nestled in the shadows of mossy oaks on the bayou. I headed up the walkway, taking only a brief pause as a harmless garter snake slinked across my path. 

Diana and Jeremy had pulled away by the time my hand touched the knob on the front door. When I opened it, I felt a blast of cold air from the AC wash over me.

It smelled a bit acrid, as usual from the many litter boxes that occupied the spare room off the foyer.  Three of moms most recent rescues immediately began to snake around my ankles, in attempts to con me into a can of wet food.  Several of the other cats, 11 total, languidly looked on from various perches around the house, gracing every plush covered surface with a fine layer of cat hair. 

The house was relatively quiet except for some stock sound effects coming from the living room TV at a low volume. I followed the sound. My kid brother Brandon was already on the couch playing video games. I stood in the doorway experiencing a brief flare of jealousy, because I didn’t think it was fair that his middle school for the gifted let out so early.

He flicked his blond hair back out of his face. His pale blue eyes remained fixed on the screen with intensity. Like usual, he was sitting hunched over. It was no wonder since he was so ridiculously tall and thin. I figured he did subconsciously to fit in better.

I nudged him over on the couch forcefully, chasing off Whisky, the cat who was lounging there. I picked up a controller. “Hey, save your game and go into battle mode.”

“I can’t save here. You’re gonna have to wait.”

“Come on,” I said in the whiniest, most annoying voice I could manage.

“Just a minute! Jeeze.”

I stared at the screen impatiently for a solid minute before feeling inspired to annoy the crap out of him. It started with one large over-exaggerated sigh. I then waited a moment and followed it with another and another. Each became more dramatic, and I made sure to put my body into it. The last one I draped across his lap bumping him obnoxiously. 

“Damn it Celeste, don't you have homework to do or something?”

I threw a couch pillow at him and declared loudly, “I’ll do homework after you satisfy my challenge on the battlefield, good sir!”

“All right, all right! Just a sec! I’m almost at a save point!”

I gave him one last over emphasized sigh.

“Okay, done.” He began going through menu screens to select battle mode.

I chose my favorite avatar, which was one of two female characters in the game. We played multiple matches. He won most of them with ease.

“So, where is Mom?” I asked.

“She’s in bed.” He responded flatly.

“Okay.” I pressed my lips together firmly and took a minute to assess the situation. “Well, we should probably cook dinner tonight. Do you know if we have any spaghetti?”

He grunted “Yeah, I think I saw a can of sauce and a box of pasta in the cabinet the other day.”

We went silent for a little while in concentration and I nearly got the upper hand on him in that battle. However, he pulled a sneaky teleportation move and came up behind my avatar with a finishing blow.

I let out a frustrated growl and threw the controller at him.

“Ouch! Hey, you know you don't have to be such a bitch, right?”

 I took a deep breath before I let out a genuine sigh. “Come on, we've got stuff to do.”

At that, we got up and went about doing some daily chores. He went to the kitchen and pulled out the fixings for dinner. I grabbed the vacuum and went over all the carpets in the house; except for mom's bedroom. He then emptied the dishwasher, and I fed the cats. I dragged my overstuffed clothes hamper from my room and got some laundry going, then popped the frozen beef into the microwave to defrost. Brandon lost at a quick match of rock paper scissors, so he was blessed with the pleasure of cleaning out the litter boxes. After I took out the trash, I went to put my book bag in my room, reminding myself that I had homework to do later.

I took pause to stand in front of the mirror over my bedroom dresser. My thick, wavy, copper-colored hair was a little mussed from the long day at school. I took it down out of its ponytail and smoothed out some of the frizz before I put it back up. 

Stupid humidity.

 I then scrutinized the rest of my appearance vainly. My skin looked pretty clear. I picked for a second at an annoying spot on my chin that might’ve been a zit starting. I then stared into my emerald green eyes for a moment, wondering if I should bother to wear mascara more often. With it my eyes looked big and round. Without it, my light eyelashes lacked definition against my pale skin. I thought that made me look plain, and maybe even boring. At least the trail of freckles sprinkled over my cheek bones brought a little life back to my face.

I turned sideways, visibly measuring the thickness of my middle area. Not bad, but I sucked in to admire how much better I would look by shaving off a few inches. I turn a few more times eyeing my curves. 

I gave my armpits a quick sniff before picking up the stick of deodorant on the top of my dresser. I popped off the cap and struggled with the tiny nub of deodorant left in the stick as I rubbed it on my underarms. I reminded myself to ask my mom again to pick up some more.

I turned to assess the messy state of my room. A plum colored armchair that matched the grey and purple theme of my room was draped in clothes that didn’t make the cut for any of this week’s outfits. The bed was unmade, with sheets and blanket rumpled on the floor. School papers and sketches were strewn about. At least I had the dirty laundry in the wash. I decided I would have to deal with the rest of the mess later.

Suddenly, for the briefest of moments, I didn’t feel alone. I had the strangest sensation that someone was watching me. I scanned the room suspiciously as I tried to shake the strange feeling.  Of course there was nothing out of place, so I carried on with my chores.

 

I had dinner nearly ready when dad wandered in the back door, looking tired, but cheerful. Seeing his mild mood relieved a little tension that I didn't realize I was holding in my shoulders. “Hey guys.” He whistled for a moment, then took off his shoes by the door and unbuttoned the collar on his corrections uniform. 

“Where is your mother?” he asked with a quick and pointed curiosity.

Brandon and I look at each other. I hesitated a moment, before answering. “She’s in bed.”

Dad responded with a slow blink, but his blank stare was quickly overcome by a look of determination. He began to whistle again, and proceeded down the hallway toward their bedroom.

After about five to ten minutes, Brandon and I had finished making dinner and set the table for four. I made a salad to go with the spaghetti. Mom and Dad wandered out of their room. She looked tired, but smiled as she shuffled her feet in some slippers. She was still wearing her nightgown and bathrobe. Her long red hair was disheveled, like it hadn't yet been brushed.

“Dinner looks great, you two,” she said. It was obvious she was making an effort. 

Dad looked somewhat satisfied from getting her up. We all said a quick grace, and were all quiet for a while after that.

Dad broke the silence with the usual evening formalities. “So how was school today?”

“Same ol’, same ol’,” I answered.

“Yeah, ditto,” Brandon echoed.

It was silent for a little while longer before my mind wandered to a question I had been working up the courage to ask them. Since they were both there, and in fair humor, I figure it was as good a time as any. 

“I was wondering…” I paused as they looked up from their plates towards me. “I was wondering if for graduation, I could maybe have a bonfire party with my friends in the backyard . . . if that would be okay.” I held my breath. I hated asking them for anything.

There was a brief moment that they considered before Mom spoke in a soft, contemplative tone. “Yeah, I don't see why not. What do you think, Robert?”

Dad slowly nodded. “I don’t have a problem with it. As long as you kids don't get too wild. I don't need a bunch of drunk little assholes throwing up in the bushes, and people's parent's getting called, and showing up to yell at us…” He took another bite of his dinner. “Or the cops for that matter.”

I stared at my dad out of the corner of my eye while scratching my head. “Wait… Are you saying that you would be cool with us drinking beer back there or something?”

“I’m saying you are  pretty much an adult now and you are responsible for yourself, your friend's behavior, and your own choices.” He finished chewing his bite of food and swallowed. “And should you choose to drink back there, do it responsibly and no one drives home after they drink.”

“I know that, Dad.” I considered that for a moment. “Would it be alright if I set up some tents out back? Like a campout? That way no one would have to drive anywhere.”

He sighed. “Yeah, that sounds like it would work.”

“Okay. Thank you.” Thrilled, I grinned wide to show my gratitude. 

 

I helped clean up after dinner as usual, doing the dishes and putting away food, then played on my tablet as I waited for my turn to shower. Mom and Dad headed to bed after their crime show was over. After putting on some comfy shorts and a tee to sleep in, I pulled a couple of books from my backpack.  I wedged the intergalactic epic that I had just finished reading for a second time into its place on my overladen bookshelf in the corner of my room.  I then crawled into bed with the latest volume of a medieval dragon tamer fantasy that Diana had just lent me.

After a few chapters worth of lingering in a world where good and evil were clearly defined, I turned out the light and lied there, hoping sleep would claim me without hesitance. 

Instead it was just me and the darkness. Everything was still and quiet. Occasionally the house shifted with a snap or settled with a creak. From time to time a cat would jump off a counter, punctuated by a small sharp thud as paws hit the floor. The AC kicked on for a time before shutting off once more. I soon realized I was having trouble sleeping again.

So I let my mind wander. At first I imagined myself as one of the dragon tamers in the book I had just been reading. 

 When I got bored with that I tried to recall the dreams I had the prior night, reliving and embellishing on the best parts I could remember.  

Eventually a particular element rose to the surface of my ponderings. A someone;  A beautiful someone to be precise. Heartbreakingly so.

I didn’t know where I first saw his face. I figured he must have been a stranger in a crowd, or a random attractive nobody I once passed on the street.  More than likely, he was some foreign megastar that I had probably seen on a short news clip.  I must have seen him, not realizing at the time what a lasting impression his face made on me, not knowing then that he would inspire many secret fantasies. Or maybe he was purely from my mind, an apparition from a dream I no longer remembered. 

Wherever the idea of him came from, he seemed familiar to me. Like I knew him somehow but had merely forgotten.

He was the male embodiment of perfection in my eyes, which certainly made it more likely that I dreamed him up. And since it was my fantasy, and I could do whatever I wanted, I imagined that he looked down at me with complete adoration, and devotion. 

I felt a heat in my body just thinking about him.

I pictured him leaning over me, touching his fingertips to my lips sensually, before running them over the rest of my body. He kissed me, and then moved his mouth down the side of my neck.

As I became more immersed in my dreaming, I slid my hand down into my panties to touch myself. I pretended my actions were his own. 

Yet I could not shake a nagging frustration.

With a lamenting sigh, I quarreled with strong emotions knowing that I could never truly satisfy the insistent hunger my body was feeling. I wanted sex. Real sex. I wanted a guy! More precisely, I wanted the man of my dreams and fantasies, and I felt intoxicated by this need. 

As I continued to touch myself, I toyed with a screwed-up idea.

 If a man like that were to show up in my room right now, in this moment, would I turn him away?

 I realized I wouldn't care about his agenda, or whether or not I was his treasure. I knew scratching that impossible itch on my own was only a mere shadow of all the possibilities making love to man had to offer. 

With that thought, my fantasy transformed. I imagined he was in my room right then, no longer with eyes of adoration, but a look of complete lust on his perfect features. He wanted me, and why was completely irrelevant, because that was how badly I wanted him back. I slid my fingers into myself, and began to gently nudge it inward feeling the pressure from the inside, and trying my best to imagine it was him, like I so wished it was. 

I could almost feel him touching me; almost feel his hands on my body. I nearly felt his teeth nipping at the skin on my collar bone, his mouth on my breast. When I climaxed with the intensity of it, I swore I could feel his breath on my face. 

 I flipped over onto my front for better leverage and I continued to massage myself. I wanted to go again and knew I could have at least another two with relative ease. I felt his hands grab onto my hips, pressing me to him tighter. I climaxed again. But I didn't stop. I imagined his arms wrapped around to my front, grabbing my breast in one hand and claiming ownership over me in the most intimate way with the other. For a moment it almost felt real. I finished with a third, before collapsing face first, breathing heavily into my pillow.

The strange voice from earlier called my name again so clear, I could feel the warm breath of the word upon my ear. 

Still on a chemical high from my orgasm, I laughed aloud, contemplating whether I had actually gone insane. I continued to lie there, slowly coming down from my elation. Despite the growing worry I had for my sanity, I became lethargic, and before long, I succumbed to sleep.