Yearning burned inside her, but such intense desire was not easily extinguished. She wasn't even sure what she wanted. She only knew that no man had yet learned to master the complex puzzle that pieced together the whole of her. Few had the intellect, creativity, craftsmanship or insight – even more rare, the required attribute of great patience.
She had faceless social contact every night, but these affairs were distant, limited to mute conversations via computer, linking interchanges that enticed, but did not satisfy. At least, not for her. However, her cyber-companions seemed to enjoy their own experience and appreciate her entertainment.
She remained anonymous, seducing imaginations vividly, delivering melting descriptions of her various talents and tempting sexual delights. She changed her role with each encounter, depending on the audience – always portraying the woman in her own "silent" fantasy – sometimes virginal, barely a woman, and other times, an aggressive wench, taking control immediately.
She dressed at great length and ceremony. Aspiring to be totally immersed in fantasy, choosing seductive, revealing lingerie. From under her dressing table, she retrieved and held a unique wooden hatbox, an ornate octagon depicting lovers painted in rich hues on each panel. The top portrayed a single woman sitting in front of a mirror, staring at her image. Kept safely locked, inside were specially selected treasures used to achieve orgasm by masturbation… alone, and safe, in her own bedroom.
She used a small gold key from her silver jewel case to unlock the box, revealing its deep purple velvet lining. Carefully lifting the lid, she began to caress each item with manicured fingertips. Soft, and firm, flexible and realistic, fleshy dildos in varied lengths and designs, each carefully washed, dried and wrapped individually in custom-made black satin pockets.
She picked up a black leather collar, adorned with silver zodiac signs. Admiring Taurus, in his confidant stance – Pisces, two fish swimming in opposite directions – Cancer, the king crab. As she snapped the choker around her slender throat, chills raced down her spine. She reached for the long, black whip – properly used, its silky leather strands stung without breaking the skin – she ran the lengths of leather through closed palms, savoring the feeling. Her eyes fell on the cuffs, black leather bands with small steel rings and three snaps around the wrist. A glistening silver letter opener completed the illusion, fed the fantasy. All there, part of her imaginative lover, an invisible man who set her loins afire… yet she feared the intimacy he represented – so she kept him captive in her mind.
She logged onto the computer, black lace lingerie contrasting against her fair skin. She stared at the blue screen impatiently, staring at her hypnotic expression reflecting back, falling into her own eyes as if drowning and unable to save herself. Suddenly, she was in a chat forum and began her flirtatious cyber dance. She began to type, exchanging casual thoughts until she selected her virtual companion for tonight. Finally, she chose, inviting him into a private chat room for more personalized entertainment.
She was completely involved in the impromptu fantasy unfolding, fingers wildly typing, as if she was stranded in a hot desert and had come thirstily upon a lake. Hence, she didn't hear the door open, didn't know he had watched her every day, and certainly couldn't have dreamed what he had been fantasizing about. But she was about to be enlightened.
Boldly, he had watched from the porch across the street. She waved in the evening, arriving home after work, disappearing into the house. On weekends, she worked in the front flower garden, tending roses in a long, feminine skirt - her hair pulled back in a ribbon.
Yes, he had studied her long and well, and was fully aware of her quiet sexuality, exquisite sensuality. In the loneliness of night, she became a vixen, drawn to the mysterious, seeking pleasures promised in darkness. He had the wisdom, imagination and ability to lure her – that little hatbox contained a nice array of extras for exploring those inner depths where undiscovered bliss awaited.
He guessed she would be too intensely involved in her little "screen show" to hear the door. Besides, her ritual included playing carefully chosen music, depending on her mood. This eve was no different, and she had her eyes closed in concentration, petite fingers with long red nails caressing ample breasts before trailing down the front of her gown.
From the shadows of the doorway, he watched the gentle, changing expressions on her face. Innocent, fresh, in harmony with the dance of touch on her flesh – completely oblivious that he had entered, and was only an arm's length from her now.
He reached into the open hatbox silently, and then moved swiftly to cover her eyes with a silk scarf, his voice a commanding whisper.
"I am your wildest fantasy."
