Chapter 2
Harper
I have a problem. A big problem. This man in front of me doesn’t know that he is the leading star of all of my fantasies. Now he wants to train me... Like physical fitness training rather than some sort of sexual training. Although, I definitely wouldn’t mind that second option.
As for the first option, I don’t know if I can be in that close proximity to him several times a week.
I currently only have to be in his presence every few months.
Then the months in between, I feel like a stalker, searching for him on social media and getting so turned on that I have to get myself off.
I’m not proud to admit it. And I’m also ashamed to admit I named my dildo after him.
That’s a secret between me and the rubber Taylor. It’s no one's business, but being close to the human version too often could cause problems.
Tonight, there’s a new reel of him that shows him smiling at something and laughing with his co-workers and friends. He’s just hot, god-like perfection. I bet his cock would be so thick and hard, and hit all the right places.
I can imagine if he was laying here with me in bed that his body would fit right up against mine with his arms curled around me.
He would kiss me soft and tenderly, making his way down my neck and sliding beneath the sheets to cover my torso with fiery kisses.
Soon, he’d be all the way under, completely covered, the shape of him settling between my legs, spreading them slowly, lifting each knee over his shoulders while he licks, sucks, and nips my center.
Fuck.
I reach inside my bedside table and pull out trusty ol’ number eighty-five.
It’s my best pictured thought of what Taylor would look like if he was here.
Dark tan in color, about eight inches long, three inches in diameter, at least that’s what the box said, and even silicon balls to hang from it.
The reason this one works so well is because it’s versatile.
It vibrates, has a suction cup so that I can put it on a chair, and is also waterproof and can stick onto the shower wall in order for me to take it from behind.
As plastic pleasures go, this one is a winner.
My panties are already wet and ready for Eighty-Five to slide right in and dive into the action.
I’m positioned just like I was while fantasizing about Taylor tasting and teasing me, so I dip Eighty-Five under the covers and give him a few passes through my slick folds so his large size can enter me with ease.
I'm a girl with high sexual energy and a healthy appetite in the bedroom. It’s too bad I don't have time to date around.
Nor am I willing to go out and take a chance on another guy for him to turn out to be an asshole just like my ex.
I'm not ready to find out that a new boyfriend has a secret life and has been cheating on me for the last year— to feel like a fool in the end. I’m way better off to just focus on my career right now and let Mr. Eighty-Five satisfy me to the best of his ability.
The ribbed veins on the rubber device feel so good on my inside walls as I glide it in and out of my channel. When it's good and wet and seated deep inside me, I hold it with one hand and tap the icon on my phone that turns on the vibration mode.
My head rests on the back of my pillow while I lay there with two hands holding Eighty-Five in place while images of Taylor running around on the field, talking to the press behind a podium, giving fans that megawatt smile while he's signing autographs, and is dressed nicely walking into the game pour through my mind. Yet the one that kicks my heart rate up the most, is the one where he pulled me close and twirled me around the dance floor at one of my best friends, Jordan’s, parties that I put on at her fiancé’s house.
“Fuck. Taylor!” I’m calling out his name in my empty downtown studio apartment. It’s loud enough that I'm sure the neighbors could hear me, but I really don't give a damn. Let them think that I'm having wild, passionate, amazing sex in here. Only I know differently.