Jourdan Mathews has a secret, and she knows she needs to take this one to the grave.
* * *
Her life was never complicated: a college student with a close family, good friends, and a plan for her future as a doctor. Had that night had never happened...
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reality // imagination
I've never considered myself to be a terribly sexual person. True, when I was in a relationship with Miles, I discovered that I could have a high sex drive in the right circumstances. When we first really figured out what felt good together, it was like we were addicted to one another. I'd never absolutely lose it, like you see some women do in movies, or tv shows, or let's be honest, porn. But I enjoyed myself.
As our relationship changed though, and as he became more interested in doing drugs rather than doing me, my sex drive faded. And since the last time I had sex, when Miles came over to try and save what was left of our connection, I just couldn't do it again. That last time had been selfish, and awkward, and left me feeling so ashamed of myself I wanted to crawl out of my skin.
Now, it's been more than six months since I've had sex, let alone allow a guy to touch me. It's strange, when I was younger, I remember thinking I'd constantly be getting it on. After all, that was one part of adulthood that I perceived as being regular or constant. But as with most assumptions you make when you're young, I was wrong.
So, when I wake this morning to memories of a very vivid dream and find unfamiliar tension between my legs, I am more than surprised. Especially because of who I'd been dreaming about.
I hadn't thought about sex at all really in the past six months. Sure, I'd made out with guys and felt their hands all over me whenever we'd go out, but last night, I dreamed that Ryder was the one with his hands on me.
In my dream, I'd been staying over at his house after a party. And I remember needing a shower, but Ryder was in there too. So, instead of waiting, I'd jumped into the shower with him and then he was kissing me, his hands between my legs and voice in my ear telling I'm beautiful.
I feel my core clench at the memory, my body fidgeting beneath the covers of my bed as I roll over from where I'd been laying on my side. I take a deep breath, swallowing hard as I allow my hand to slide beneath the covers then.
I didn't have class this morning, so I suppose it might be good for me to spend some quality time with myself. Especially considering I hadn't felt desire like this in a very long time.
My fingers dip into the sleep shorts I'd gone to bed in, tentatively moving lower until I let out a sharp gasp as my fingers reach my clit. I circle it gently, before dragging my fingers lower and releasing a sigh when I discover that I'm already wet. I press my fingers at my entrance, stroking my arousal and pulling it up as I circle my clit again.
Then I close my eyes, allowing my mind to wander as I picture Ryder's larger hand there instead. I don't know why I'm thinking of him, not when I'd steadfastly refused to acknowledge his obvious appeal for years now, but I don't question it. What he doesn't know won't hurt him.
"You're so wet," I hear his voice in my mind, picturing us in the shower again, hot steam rising around us. I see my hands running up his chest, tracing the hard curves of the abs in his torso. Sighing as I admire the dark ink against his tanned, golden skin. His hair is damp, tickling at my neck while he kisses a trail there, sucking gently at my skin until I know it's bruised. "And it's all for me."
