The Highest Fruit

I knock on the door to see it swing open almost on the first sound. Cathy is there looking up at me. Her dark hair blending with the dark wisps of fabric alluring covering her body. I know finally who this is. The beauty that I hold only known the phosphorescent ghosts of her thoughts on the computer screen is now before me, eager for my touch. I am barely across the threshhold when her hand is behind my head, pulling me down to her. Our mouths meet wide open, our tongues eager to discover each other. My hands run through her silky heavy hair. She is moaning at my touch. Her nails drag down my shirt to my jeans as she breaks the kiss, then tugs me into the next room by my waistband. Her bedroom.

I sigh happily as I feel her hands work my pants open, peeling them down as she kneels before me to accept my erection in her mouth. It bounces slightly with each beat of my heart, my blood racing now as I feel her warm, soft, wet mouth envelope me, and her lungs creating the pressure for the most marvelous of sensations. I take her head in my hand and guide her up and down, as she scratches her nails down my belly, along my hips, to my thighs.

I blink as I look around at the students staring blankly at the teacher. I resume taking notes as my fantasy is becoming reality...for someone else. He is on top of her now, his face buried in her womanly flesh. His tongue is lashing through her body, teasing her most sensitive areas and testing her depths, all in gallant motions. I know she is moaning now. She is calling him names, talking dirty to him. I can even hear her calling herself a slut, giving it up for her daddy. She is on her side, her leg raised high, as her attacks her relentlessly from the side. He is exploding inside of her, only using that as a cause to find a new position behind her. He continues to thrust away now, his hands on her shoulders, yanking her down onto him. She is loudly and submissively begging for more. She has given herself up to the pleasure. I cannot see this, but I know it is happening. I am a witness all the same. I can feel her moaning, and her filthy words egging him on. She is being used as so happily so. Her muscles are clamping down on him exquistely, heightening his pleasure. His eyes roll as his hips go crazy, pounding away at her, working faster than his muscles can sustain, hoping that her skilled clenches can bring them both to the dizzying orbit before his body gives out. And they succeed, him moaning incoherenly, her telling him in a scream how good he is, and how good he feels.

He's spanking her now. Loudly. She is almost screaming out of pleasure. Right then, right at that moment, as I am preparing to take over the class, I know he is there. He is on top of her as I walk to the front of the room. Her legs are wrapped around him, willing him deeper, and he is happily obliging as I first begin the lesson. Their bodies are loudly slapping together as he continues to mount a furious pace. Her talk veers into the deeply pornographic, almost desperately demanding more from his body. He throws himself into her. It is my fantasy. It is his reality.

She was always there for me, but just out of my reach. Her wonderful world of sensuality and exploration. I could never grab it, never have it. I am teaching the basics of science, and he is mastering the wonders of eroticism. I feel the world I want being had by others. I look around the room. I see in their faces the knowledge which I am so painfully without. I feel the ascence of their feelings on me.

She's bent over a chair. Her arms are on the table, clenching it madly. Her body is exploding with spasms. He tiredly reaches his climax again within her. Finally, he collapses on her, and they both fall to the floor, their bodies still engaged in each other's heat. The virtual torrent of sexual energy from my jealous thoughts having propelled them to new heights, they giggle as they play with each other's bodies.

And I return home, to a cool bed, and restless dreams.