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Dixie

Leo: What’s your dirtiest fantasy?

I PAUSE BEFORE RETURNINGhis text. We’ve been doing this for two weeks now, this sexting, and it always takes a few minutes for me to acclimate myself to this version of Dixie. This woman I hardly know.

What am I even doing? This is so not me. I don’t even get as intimate with men I know and date as I do with Leo. And he could be anyone. And even if he is who he says he is—I still don’t know why we are doing this. I don’t know where he lives. What he does. Why he wants to do this with me. Why I want to do this with him.

I’m a good girl. Ask anyone. A dutiful daughter. A responsible employee. A studious student. I’m actually quite boring, truth be told. And that has always been okay with me. I don’t want to stand out.

I pace my small living room. My house is small and kind of dingy, but I like it. My parents hate it. They want me back in Seattle commuting the other way. I work in the library here in Brazen Bay and take classes two days in the city to finish my degree.

They think I’m coming back after I graduate. I hate the city.

Leo: Dixie, you still there, sweetheart?

Dixie: Yeah, sorry. I’m not sure I know what my dirtiest fantasy is.

Leo: Baby...don’t be shy.

Dixie: I’m sorry...I’m distracted today. Maybe start by telling me yours?

Leo: Knocking you up.

My hand flies to my throat and I gasp.

Knocking me up? My hand leaves my throat and travels down to my middle.

Leo: Too much?

Dixie: No.

Leo: Are you sure?

Dixie: Why is that your fantasy?

Leo: I love how you get, all flustered and naughtier, when we talk about going raw. When we talk about my cum dripping out of you.

Dixie: God, yes. Getting pregnant...

Leo: It’s okay, baby. I know how not every woman wants babies. You’re working on your career and you’re young. It’s just a fantasy.

Dixie: That’s just it. I don’t know how you just know things about me. Leo, I’ve never told anyone, but I want a baby so badly.

I swallow hard around the ball in my throat. It’s my secret wish. One my parents wouldn’t understand. They barely understand my desire to not be a doctor or lawyer like they are. But they resigned themselves to my academic pursuits. They tried to steer me toward becoming a professor, and I think they still think they can. That I’ll be Ivy League and marry sometime later, in my thirties, like they did. And have one child. Like they did.

I love school. I enjoy my job at the library. But in my heart of hearts, I want to be a mom. I want to have a house full of kids. A loving, loud family. Away from the traffic and the pollution.

And I’ve never told that to anyone before. Sometimes I wonder if I made Leo up. Maybe I’m having some kind of psychotic episode.

Leo: I’ll give you a baby, sweetheart. I’ll fill your belly with my seed. Make you round and fat and everywhere you go, people will know you’re mine.

Dixie: What if I want more than one?

Leo: We’ll practice the whole time you’re pregnant and get going as soon as we can on the next one. How many do you want?

Dixie: God. As many as you’ll give me. Tell me about it some more, Leo.

I sit down and open my laptop so I can use the chat program there and type better with one hand. My hand slips into my panties. I’ve never masturbated as much as I have the last two weeks. I’m in constant arousal mode. Always wet. Always empty. Always needy and achy.

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