Page 46 of Come Fly with Me

Me: Are you naked?

Jake: Yes.

I begin to type but delete it. My fingers move against me as my other hand contemplates what to type. I type it out several times, hitting the delete button, but always come back to it.

Me: Are you going to jerk off in the shower?

His response is slow to come back, the dots floating on the screen, and I wonder for a second if he’s doing what I just did, wondering how far he should take this.

Jake: Yes, Taylor, I am.

Even though he’s typed out my name, I can hear it, his accent, hot and sexy saying it, and it fuels my need to finish myself off.

Me: I’m touching myself…

Jake: Are you thinking of my cock? Wondering what it would feel like inside you?

Holy shit, this is hot. And yes, yes, yes, I am. I widen my legs, my fingers sliding inside me.

Me: Yes. Tell me how much you want my pussy.

Jake: Fuck, I want your pussy so bad. I want to taste you and finger you and bury my dick deep inside you. I’m hard as a fucking rock.

His words are like gasoline to an already raging fire, and I increase my tempo, finger-fucking myself and rubbing, my orgasm pulling from deep within me. The tingling sensation teeters on the edge, pulling me in and out as I near release.

Me: I want your hard cock filling me, stretching me, making me come.

I work myself faster and harder until I feel everything pool between my legs, my release coming in waves of intensity, and I cry out. I allow the moment to control me, my mouth falling open, my eyes closed as I ride out my orgasm.

When I finally pull myself back together, a cloudy haze of elation and exhaustion washing over me, I realize I haven’t come like that in years. It was intense and all-consuming and wonderfully satisfying, and it was in response to my thoughts of a guy.

What the hell is it going to be like when we actually have sex?

It’s taking everything in me not to march down to his room, bang on his door, and demand he literally fuck me this time.

I’m still clutching my phone, my breaths coming hard and fast as I glance down at the blank screen. Nothing from Jake after my last message.

But just as I open the message, he sends one through, and his words make me smile so wide my cheeks begin to sting.

Jake: I haven’t come like that since I was fifteen.

Me: Me either.

Jake: I’m gonna get in the shower. What’s the plan for tomorrow?

Me: Breakfast at seven and then some Hawaii fun…cliff jumping?

Jake: Perfect. Good night, beautiful.

Me: Good night, Jake.

I sleep better than I have in years, my body completely sated, my mind clear, and I wake up feeling elated. When I’m on a layover, I now like to spend as much time as I can exploring, being outside, seeing the area rather than subject myself to the confines of a hotel room. I don’t want to sit at a bar or go out to a club with my coworkers, where everyone is getting drunk and hooking up with whoever is nearby. My life is passing me by, and sometimes I feel like I have very little to show for it. I want to be able to say that at every stop I’ve made, I lived it to the fullest.

I shower quickly and pull on a pair of cutoffs and a tank over my swimsuit before tossing a towel and a sundress into a backpack. As I finish getting ready, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and notice I look different today. I look happy and alive, and I feel like I’m floating, like falling for someone is exactly what I should be doing right now.

The elevator doors open, and I see Jake at the reception desk, chatting with the attendant, an older woman with a flower pinned in her graying hair and a smile on her tanned lined face. I wait and watch him, his elbows on the counter, leaning in as he talks to her, and she laughs a little and he laughs back. I hear it, and it has a soothing quality to it and a distinction to it that I would recognize anywhere. Jake’s laugh doesn’t just fall from his mouth; it comes from his entire body, his eyes lighting up, his body relaxing, his head falling back as if he feels it and everyone around him should too. It’s unapologetic and contagious, and I absolutely love it.

He turns away from the counter, his eyes immediately falling on me and I feel my cheeks grow hot. I haven’t seen him since our text message exchange last night, and I’m suddenly feeling self-conscious, which is so far from my normal.

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