Jeff's still in bed watching the movie we'd popped into the VCR. No pants, bare feet, my long brown hair in a tousled ponytail, a little damp at the nape of my neck from sweat. And I have my panties on too, always the same black cotton string bikini ones I wore in high school. The bottom of the shirt hangs to the middle of my thighs, just barely covering my ass as long as I don't bend over.
The top few buttons are undone so that you can see the round fullness of my tits and the depth of my cleavage every time I lean down. I'm wearing Jeff's white button down shirt, a little drunk from being out earlier that night. I can hear him saying that to me in my ear, in that deep husky voice. You are a bad girl, and you have me smiling big. Something tells me you won't judge me too harshly. I've had another orgasm imagining all of this and I felt sort of guilty about it, so I thought I'd unburden myself here.
I've included a few sentences of my email exchange, and then the fantasy below. There were so many moments on Mike's back porch when I used to wish for this to happen. Although the story below is fictional, the fantasy was very real to me when I was 18 years old. I started to write it all out in our emails, and before long I was masturbating to it, confessing all kinds of dirty things. In a recent email exchange with my lover, I remembered a fantasy I had about my high school boyfriend's dad, Mike.