Commencement

I diligently practice safe sex. And while I’ve been on the pill for years, I’ve always used condoms with a partner. I realized, sadly, that this was only because I’ve never had a relationship that got to the point where forgoing condoms seemed like a reasonable option. Going to the clinic with your partner to get tested, discussions about birth control, all of that stuff is what couples do, what lovers do. I’d never done any of that. It occurred to me now that aside from he-who-must-not-be-named (Brian), all I’d ever had in the way of relationships was a handful of prolonged one night stands. But Thomas was my lover, he’d made that clear. And he wanted to…well… my mind drifted back to his words from the weekend, and I shivered at the memory.

He wanted to be the only one, he’d said. To feel me, from the inside, my * gasping and sucking at his cock as he fucks me. Plunging into me over and over, watching as I erupt, watching my face as I cum, my cunt spasming around him as he releases inside me.

God, I wanted that too.

Thursday evening I opened my laptop and pulled up my gynecologist’s website, accessing my most recent test results from her office’s secure online database. My last visit had been just seven weeks ago, right before I’d met Thomas. I took screenshots of my records and attached them in an email to him. My phone buzzed as the email left my sent box. It was Thomas right on time with his nightly text.



Evening beautiful.



Evening handsome. Check your email.



Oh naughty pictures?



You wish. ;) Just check. I’ll wait.



It seemed like ten minutes had passed by the time the video-chat request popped up on my screen. I hit accept and was greeted by a pair of brilliant blue eyes narrowing over an unexpected scowl.

“Are you sure?” he said, his brow furrowing.

“Yes, I’m sure.” I laughed. “I wouldn’t have sent it if I wasn’t, and God, you are the worst rule-breaker ever ever ever.”

“Jane, I’m being serious.”

“So am I! What’s with the video-chat? You said no phone, no video, just texting and email. And then here you are invading my house via computer screen.”

“This is important. Really. I don’t want you to feel pressured or uncomfortable. We can use condoms if you like, that’s not a problem.”

“No, I know,” I said, smiling at him. “I want this. You know my mother always tried to convince Charlie and me that talking about safe sex could be sexy, but we never believed her. I think I’m a believer now, because I’m ridiculously turned on.”

“Then I’m ridiculously delighted,” he said, his concern relaxing into an easy smile. “Although could we not talk about your mother?”

“Of course.” I laughed. “So, um…how are we going to do this, then? God, it feels completely salacious even saying that.”

“A clandestine rendezvous?” He smirked.

“A naughty tryst?” I said, raising an eyebrow.

“A sordid assignation?”

“Ooo, I like that one.” I smiled. “So really, what’s the plan? Is there a plan?”

“Oh, there is most definitely a plan,” he drawled, and wiggled his eyebrows at me.

“What? What?” I asked, bouncing in my chair.

“All shall be revealed at the proper time. For now all you need to know is that I’ll pick you up tomorrow afternoon at your place. Pack a bag for the weekend.”

“Oh, fancy.” I grinned. “Any particular items I should pack?”

“If I had my way I’d say just your toothbrush, but that would be irresponsible of me,” he said, winking. “So I’ll say a nice dress, swimsuit, and whatever else you like. We aren’t going out of state, but we are going somewhere special.”

“I can’t wait,” I said. I leaned my chin on my fist and grinned at him, then lifted one finger to trace the outline of his jaw on the video-chat window.

He took off his glasses and mimicked my position, lifting his hand, and flattening it to the screen.

“Not much longer,” he said.

I raised my palm and placed it over the image of his. We sat that way for a long moment, pixel skin to pixel skin, our eyes locked on each other, gazing with that strange unfocused video-chat stare. He was so beautiful, it made my chest feel tight.

How the fuck am I even going to survive this man? my head asked my heart. I chased the thought away as soon as it surfaced. There was no turning back now. Sasha was right, I couldn’t let my past control my future.

“I’m going to say goodnight now, darling,” he said, letting his hand fall from the screen. “We should both get some rest, as I plan on wearing you out.”

“Yeah?” I said. “Right back atcha, buddy.” I sat back in my chair, and lifted my shirt over my head. My torso was framed perfectly in the chat window, as was Thomas’s face, his eyebrows arched in surprise and his tongue snaked out to lick his lips, a subconscious movement I watched with satisfaction.

“Jane,” he said, his tone a warning.

“What?” I asked innocently as I reached between my breasts for the front hook of my bra. I snapped it open, then peeled the flimsy lace away from my breasts, slowly, one excruciating micrometer at a time.

He licked his lips again, his eyes glued to my breasts. I smiled, then stopped my hands, letting the fabric hug my flesh just shy of my nipples. I slid my fingers over the trackpad.

“Au revoir, Professor,” I said, and clicked End Call.





7





Friday morning was a haze. I ran around my apartment like a crazy woman, took care of some long overdue cleaning, and fussed in my closet over what, exactly, to bring to my weekend excursion with Thomas.

Thankfully Charlie called mid-crisis.

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