by Sylvia Fox
Which brings me back to my fantasy.
I've been saving said V-card for eighteen years. And I sure as hell am not giving it up that easy.
Because I've been saving it for one very special person.
Brett.
It all comes back to him.
I enter the four-digit code on my phone screen and click on Safari. The browser pulls up and I immediately touch the right-hand button that reads private.
At this point, I'm guessing most people would think I'm pulling up some shady porn, some Tumblr-for-women feed or something, which would be fine.
But I'm not most women. And I don't want to get off to some guy I don't know.
I want to get off to the man who has known me forever.
I close my eyes briefly as the screen loads. Knowing the tension I've been carrying these last few weeks as I've gone through these stupid exams is going to dissipate the moment I see his face.
There are times in the past where I thought Brett might have the same desires. Times when I caught him looking at me, his eyes lingering on my legs or tits a little too long to be appropriate. But he has never acted on them.
This summer, I was sure he wanted to.
I open my eyes and look at the picture that has loaded. It's a photo from vacation this past summer. The first person I see is my best friend Kerry, in a bikini.
No, this is not a lesbian best friend fantasy.
I zoom in.
The ocean is bright blue, the sand white. The Caribbean vacation Brett took my family on was a dream come true, he flew us in his private plane and we spent a week in paradise.
But I don't need to see my mom and dad right now either, who are standing next to me. I zoom in again, to get them out of the shot.
I zoom in until the only people on the screen are Brett and me.
He has one arm around me, and of course his other arm is around his daughter. But I'm not looking at that.
I'm only looking at Brett.
My best friend’s dad in his swim trunks, his chest bare. We'd just come back from a snorkeling trip where we saw sea turtles and dolphins and pretty much any of the magical sea creatures you can think of.
The magical creature I was thinking of right now did not live in the sea.
As I spread my legs in the dorm shower, I lift my foot onto the handicap seat, running my fingers up and down my pussy, faster and faster. I use my other hand to spread my pussy lips nice and wide, rubbing myself hard, the way I want, just the way I need.
The magical creature I am thinking about as I press one finger deep, deep, deep, and the other one right on my hood, is Brett's cock.
I remember the way his body moved beside me in that warm seawater, everyone was snorkeling up ahead, and I stayed behind pointing at the brightly colored fish in the coral reef.
I remember the way Brett's hand brushed up against my leg, over my ass, to the small of my back.
I remember as he pulled me close to him by the waist, pointing at the sea turtle a few feet in front of us. He pulled me in front of him, my ass instinctively grinding against his cock, long enough to know he was hard. Long enough to know he was hard for me.
I pressed my ass against him, wanting him to put his hand between my legs. My pussy was so tight and desperate.
But then the water pushed us apart, my blonde hair spread around me underwater, and I looked to his bulge, I saw the outline of his cock in those swim trunks, it was so big and clearly hard, as long as a ruler. I wished he'd ripped off my bikini, right then and there, and fucked me in the ocean.
That would've been a dream vacation.
Of course, that didn't happen. The moment we shared was gone as fast as it came. The next day we travelled home, and I left for college.
And it is probably for the best.
No more sleepovers at Kari's house where I could walk to the bathroom in the middle of the night, without any panties on, imagining him finding me in the hall, and slipping his fingers deep into my cunt.
No more movie nights, where after Kari fell asleep--like clockwork--five minutes into the movie, where I would finger myself alone in the den, under a blanket, so wet and hot knowing Brett was in his bed just a floor above me.
I've known Brett forever, and he will always be off-limits. And not just because he is my best friend’s dad, but because he is thirty years older than me.
Divorced, so it's not like I want him to leave his wife for me.
Which is a ridiculous notion anyways. I am an inexperienced eighteen-year-old, why would he want me?
This fantasy of us is just that.
A fantasy.
A fantasy that makes me come hard and fast, daily.
I rub two fingers over my clit, so nice and tight with even circles that make me pant as I look at his face in the picture. I gasp, my thighs tremble, my pussy clenches. Brett's eyes sear into mine. His broad shoulders, his rock-solid chest, a ladder of abs that I want to climb up and down.
I come on my fingers, and I move them to my lips, sucking my juice off.
I want a man I cannot have.
I want him to lick my fingers, to taste my juice, to push me on the bed and spread my legs apart and bury his face against my wet pussy.
But I can't have him.
So instead, I'll have this fantasy.
A fantasy where I go to his house after Thanksgiving dinner. Kari would be gone and Brett locks the door behind me.
A fantasy where I give him that sacred V-card, and he offers me his magical creature.
I'd ride that cock, wherever it wanted to take me.
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