Page 2 of Gina's Fantasy

Why couldn’t he spend an evening, or an entire night, with her without leaving her feeling guilty about it afterward?

And why couldn’t she ask him any of these questions during one of those few times they were face to face?

Blinking away the tears that blurred her vision, Gina picked up the digital recorder that had become an extension of her left hand over the past months. She found it so much quicker to record her random, racing thoughts than trying to remember them long enough to write them in one of the many notebooks that lay in every room in the house. Invariably, she would either forget the idea before she wrote it down, or lose the note before she could do anything about it.

She set the tiny machine to record on the last track and then took a deep breath before pressing the “record” button. “I know this probably isn’t what you were expecting to hear,” she said, her voice soft and low, “but you wanted to hear the deepest, darkest fantasy that I couldn’t tell you in person, so here goes.”

Taking a deep breath, Gina closed her eyes, opened her heart, and just let the words go. “I would love to spend a day watching you work, being creative, and help if I possibly could. I would like you to take me out of the tiny box you have me in marked “Sex and Stories” and see that, like you, there is more to me than my job. I’d like to know I mean more to you than a quickie when we’re both stressed, or the blowjob that relaxes you but leaves me walking around in wet panties the rest of the day, trying to figure out how to entice you to return so I can tie you to my bed and keep you there for a day or two.

“I’d like to spend an evening with you, make a meal together that ends up on the verge of burning because we’re waltzing around the kitchen, kissing, and holding one another close. After we eat, you would come up behind me as I’m washing dishes, push my hair out of the way so you can brush your mustache over my skin then catch me when my knees buckle.

“I want to spend an evening cuddling on the couch, watching the news until our attention turns to each other and we start making out,” she said and then took a deep breath for courage before continuing. “I want you to spend the night, not because you’ve had too much to drink, but because you don’t want to leave.”

Gina swallowed and wiped tears from her cheeks as she tried to regain enough composure to continue. “When we’ve reached the limits of our control on the couch, I want us to stand and slowly strip off each other’s clothes, leaving a trail behind us as we make our way to the bedroom. Then we would make long, slow love to one another, giving and receiving overwhelming pleasure before we fall asleep in each other’s arms. I want to wake in your arms before the alarm goes off and start all over again. I want you to stay around long enough for a cup of coffee before you give me a long kiss and a longer, tighter hug before leaving to start your day, only to call a few hours later because you miss me and need to hear my voice.”

Wondering if she had gone too far, even though she still had not reached the crux of her deepest fantasy, she continued in a hoarse whisper, “I dream of the day you to tell me I’m important to you, and not just because we’re good in bed together. I need to know if there will ever be more between us than these once-or-twice-a-month, hot, steamy phone calls, and hit-and-run sexcapades that we’ve gotten so good at over the last three years. I dream of the day you invite me out in public, or tell someone that I am more than just a casual acquaintance. I wish you could tell me how you feel about me. I want to be able to tell you what I’ve held back saying for so long, that I love you, without you running for the hills in fear.”

Having said everything she had been thinking about saying for months, Gina backed up to the beginning and listened to every word. As she did, she began to question the wisdom of her actions.

Did she have the guts to give it to him?

If she did actually find that courage, would he be so focused on the pain-filled tone of her voice that he missed the meaning of her words?

Would he try to make her deepest desires a reality?

Or would he disappear from her life because she was asking for things he would not or could never give her?

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