Math had never been a strong suit of hers. It wasn’t any easier with her cold fingers making their way over her clit, traveling down further. The familiar wetness greeting her, helping her fingers to glide inside of her. They had known each other 10 years, 20 years, 15 years, it didn’t matter. It had been at least 10 years since they had physically been in the same room, let alone touching each other in any sort of way, intimate or not. The effects were still the same.
Tingles, almost painful, starting in her left shoulder, turning to chills running down her back, her spine, all the way to where her fingers were already deeply nestled. Ebbing further in, flowing slightly out, back and forth. Her knee bringing itself closer to her chest as her head rolled back. She shuddered softly as she pulled her middle finger out entirely, moving it to her clit. Straight up and down, small circles, big circles, various levels of pressure until her phone went off. With her free hand, barely able to concentrate, she opened a text. She felt the wetness cover her. However many years it had been and a simple text put her over the edge. She hadn’t stopped though, the way she usually did in her life outside of this moment, in the moments she shared with her partner. She keep going, following the fantasy laid out for her being bent over, having him lick her from behind – devour her really until his beard was saturated with her cum.
Much like her orgasms, this would be the climax of their conversation. A down and out, sloppy, wet, wholly inappropriate and probably cheating depending on who was with someone else at the time two day conversation, if it was appropriate to even call it that. They had some small talk, a few pleasantries. She once found out he had six nieces and nephews. It was mostly sexual, but it wasn’t sex. It wasn’t faithfulness, but it wasn’t cheating. It wasn’t emotional or physical. It was a slew of puns that lead to innuendo, that most of the time stopped there. They would flirt with the line, toe at it, finger it, lick it, but it wasn’t crossed. Not most of the time at least, maybe milestones that warranted a celebration or lows that needed to be lifted. It was the height of the excitement, the moment before it actually crossed a line and then they would wrap it up and months, if not years, would pass before they spoke again.
It was their unfinished fantasy.