I thought about meeting him again -- not for a repeat, though this thought had crossed my mind frequently in the last week -- but to talk. It was oddly reassuring to think there might be another guy in the same position. I started looking for Matt, I realized with a smile that I now thought of him as “Matt” and not “the guy”, whenever I was at the gym. I wasn’t sure what I would do or say if I saw him, but I wasn’t much worried about that. I guess I was hoping he would know what to say. Several more days passed, however, without his appearing. I even started going to the steam room every time I was there, hoping to run into him again. Finally I remembered, again with a start, that he had left me his email address. But where was it? I hadn’t thrown it away, I remembered, but where had I put it? Pants pockets! But which ones? What had I been wearing that day? Had I -- please God, no -- already sent them to the cleaners? I went to the closet and rifled through the pockets of one. I’m a little bit surprised that Jacob was so brazen about it once he saw that I was watching. The thought of his eyes on me as he licked Maria to an orgasm is causing me to tingle and drip between my legs. I want to do that. I want a man to put his cock in my mouth and I want to suck him until he comes. I want a man to lick me until I scream his name in ecstasy. The thought has me flushed and breathing heavily. I undress quickly and lie down on my bed, sliding nearly naked between the smooth, cool sheets. I reach down with one hand and touch myself through my panties, pressing the silky fabric between my legs. I rub my fingers across my clitoris, enjoying the friction of my panties rubbing against me. As I stroke myself, I imagine a man’s fingers there instead of mine, and try to envision his face between my thighs, his tongue lapping at my wetness. I see Jacob’s face there, but quickly push it away. He’s not the one for me. My parents would never allow it, and I’m not attracted to.
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