Page 35 of A Lesson In Beginning

“Close your eyes and trust me.”

Thoughts inundated my mind; thoughts of his hands moving away from my waist, tracing my curves, as though I could feel his touch even now, instead of only in my thoughts.

My thighs clenched together, the ache refusing to subside.

“Touch yourself for me.”

My eyes popped open wide as the thought entered my mind, spoken by the fantasy version of Joel I held there. Could I do that? Could I really let my hands wander over my own form, just as a lover would?

I closed my eyes tight, resigning myself to do whatever it took to quell the aching, the sheer tension that felt as though it would overtake me. I couldn’t live like this any longer.

It was settled. I would do it — but only once; only to fix the issue that my overzealous mind and body refused to let me ignore.

My hands moved over my stomach, just lightly, with no actual idea of where I was even to begin.

“Stop thinking so much. Just feel.” Fantasy Joel’s voice directed in my mind — and for once, I decided to just give in to the voice within, to let him direct what I could not understand.

I stopped thinking and simply let my hands wander. Up and down, in small circles, until the back of my hand brushed against the underside of my breast. Before I could allow myself to list the reasons why this was wrong, I just went with it. My hands moved up and over the small swells, the peaks of my breasts hardening beneath my touch like they would on a cold winter’s day.

As the palms of my hands touched, I felt a jolt of tension coil within my core. Fingers playing, lightly touching, then plucking at the stiff peaks, I felt my arousal surge. My thighs rubbed back and forth against one another, seeking to find relief. One hand moved down my body, pausing nervously at the waistband of my panties. Could I really do this?

“Don’t stop. Keep going.” Fantasy Joel’s voice urged me, and just as it was in real life, I could not find it within me to disobey.

Slipping below the thin elastic strip that held the clothing over my most intimate parts, I slid down, smooth skin giving way to erratic curls over my sex. I cupped myself, feeling the heat that seemed to be the source of the hot flashes coursing throughout my body. It throbbed beneath my touch. I squirmed against the bed, the fingers of my other hand still circling and plucking against my nipple.

“Just like that.” Fantasy Joel praised in my mind, emboldening my touches further. My fingers slid deeper, finding my slit and pressing within my folds. I was wet. Incredibly wet. As I searched and explored a part of me I had never dared to touch in such a way, my hips began to rock.

Lower down, to the place where I knew husbands valued most, I found the source of my wetness. As my fingers slid up, carrying that moisture along, I gasped loudly as I discovered a little bump that made my heart race as my entire body quaked involuntarily.

“Right there.”

With his voice in my mind, I played, just as I had with my nipples. Circling this way and that until my thoughts melted away and my body directed me wordlessly towards a frenzy. My ears rang with the pounding of my heartbeat. My nipple stiffened further as I plucked and rolled it between my fingers, harder and faster, mirroring the movements of my other hand between my thighs.

Faster and faster, my fingers swirled, circled, plucked, and played.

It was overwhelming. The tightening feeling deep within me never ceased, only increased as I writhed atop the bed, caught up in a maelstrom of sensation I hardly comprehended, much less understood.

“Don’t stop. Not yet.”

His voice, the sound of it, urged me onward, even though it was only my imagination. Thoughts of his hands on me, of his hands replacing mine, ravaged my mind.

Faster.

Barely breathing.

Holding on.

And then it all exploded.

My back arched, my legs trembling slightly as a feeling of sensual sensation exploded into a brilliant climax that had me gasping, nearly forgetting to breathe at all.

My fingers stilled, that bump between my legs so unbelievably sensitive I couldn’t bear to touch it a moment longer.

But I didn’t need to.

A smile played at the corner of my lips.

Joel had been right. That woman on the stage had not been in pain.

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