Fantasy
by V.E. on January 9th, 2010
We were sitting side by side on a bench in the park. His girlfriend didn’t know he was with me. I was the ex-girlfriend, after all; she’d be furious if she knew. But I was benign. I wasn’t going to try to steal him back. (Implying what? That she stole him away from me in the first place? WTF?) I got it; it was over between us. But he still knew me better than anyone in the world. After I lied to him, he still loved me, and I was still in love with him for that. But I knew it was over.
“…and then, when he reaches the top of the mountain,” he was saying, “he has to fight the oldest samurai in the world.”
“Can’t be that hard of a fight,” I said, “if the guy’s that old.”
“You know what I mean,” he chided before continuing.
I looked at him while he spoke. His jaw line was sharp, defined, and beautiful. The curly hair he tended not to care about was short but wild, and I wanted to run my fingers through it again, like I had so many times already. His grey-blue eyes sparkled when he talked about the latest manga he’d read. He liked sharing all things nerdy with me because he knew his girlfriend wasn’t interested. She cracked the metaphorical whip, and that’s what he needed now, not me. I was patient and, compared to her, introverted. We were quite literally white against black.
I lifted my knee and slid onto his lap facing him. He stopped talking mid-sentence. He didn’t know what to do with my sudden shift in posture. With one knee on either side of him, my skirt hiked up around his waist and I could feel his jeans on my inner thighs. I was feeling uncharacteristically aggressive.
“You know what I miss about you?” I asked him quietly, putting my arms around his neck and twining my fingers behind his head, “I miss your lips.”
“Jane…” He began, but I knew my sitting on his lap aroused him. I could feel it through his pants, and I smirked.
“I miss your dominance over me,” I continued, my voice low. “Are you the same way with her? Aggressive, dominant, in control?” I licked my lips at the last two words and he squirmed underneath me.
“Jane, we shouldn’t—”
“Oh, I know we shouldn’t, Ty. I know, but I want you anyway,” I interrupted. “I’m in love with you and you know it. You broke me a long time ago. But that doesn’t mean I’m not also an adult. I can control myself when I want to.”
“Then why are you—”
“Do you want me to stop?” He was silent. I moved my hands from behind his head and slid them up his shirt. His skin felt fantastic under my touch and his breath hitched. I smiled.
“I know you want me, Tyler,” I leaned into him and whispered in his ear. “I’m an adult,” I paused, “and I can’t help but lust after you.”
His breathing was heavy. I pressed my hips down into his lap and smiled when I felt him jump underneath me. “I’m your friend, but as far as she knows, you’re still fair game.”
“Jane, I don’t want—”
“Sshhh.” I put one finger on his lips. “You know what I learned when you called me that time and told me you felt guilty for hanging out with me and not telling her?” There was no response. “I learned that I’m aroused by your guilt.” His eyebrows shot up in surprise.
“Don’t act so surprised, Ty,” I smiled down at him. His fingers were creeping up my leg as if he couldn’t help himself. “You’re aroused by tears; I’m aroused by guilt. I like it when you tell me you feel bad about being with me because I know you want to be with me anyway, despite what you say.”
“What we had isn’t—”
“I know,” I interrupted again. “It’s over. No more. We can’t go back. I know that. I’m not trying to, trust me.”
He looked up at me, “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“But that’s why it’s so fun, isn’t it?” I grinned. “Don’t worry,” I continued, leaning to whisper in his ear again, “I’m not going to do anything to you.”
He seemed half relieved, half disappointed. I ran my tongue over his jaw line and he tilted his head unconsciously to allow me access to his neck. “It’s been a long, long time since I’ve been the dominant one. I’m going to have fun hunting you.”
“What are you talking about?” he asked, partially drunk on the sex in the air.
“What I want is much more troublesome for you.” I knew he could hear the smirk in my voice, but he said nothing.
“I want you to think of me,” I said, grinding my hips into his and kissing his neck, “when you fuck her.”
Without thinking, he pushed me off his lap onto the ground. “You’re sick, Jane.”
I started laughing. I knew my command would hold. He knew it, too.
