otherworlderotic
I wake up the next day feeling like my room is way, way too cold. I spend the first part of my morning on my phone, scrolling away. Usually I’m trying to gather up the energy to escape the warmth of my sheets and get to actually doing something. But this morning I’m killing time.
I want nothing more than to text Amy, to hear from her, and it’s way too early to send that text. After all, I don’t want to seem desperate… even though that’s exactly what I am.
I toss around in the sheets, tangling myself up, daydreaming about Amy. Ugh. I hope the endless video feed I scroll through will be distracting enough.
I make it through about two 15-second videos before I can’t stand it anymore. I have to text her. After a moment of consideration, I choose to go direct.
[8:13 AM] Jo: Good morning… ❤️🔥 I’m thinking about you 🤤
[8:14 AM] Jo: Can I take you to dinner tonight? PIZZA 🍕🍕🍕I know a fancy place!
I stare at the sent messages for a second, considering sending another. Maybe six more pizza emojis? I decide against it. Three pizza emojis is the perfect amount of Jo. The “read” receipt indicator stays unread, and I don’t sweat it. She’s probably still asleep or busy with senior things.
My mind wanders back to last night. Her hand in my shirt. I swear I can still feel where she touched me, her hand brushing against my nipple. God I want her to pinch them. I’m getting dangerously turned on thinking about it. My mind dances with images of Amy’s body delicately wrapped in lace, images given some real life fidelity from the glimpse she gave me. I imagine her laying me out in the snow, right there… spreading my legs, having her way with me with her fingers and mouth.
A girl can only stand so much without taking action. I reach for my nightstand to pull out my bullet vibrator. I get the door to the drawer cracked before I remember Amy’s request - command? No touching myself. I hesitate, the drawer pulled half open. I’m so wet, and I want to relieve the tension pooling deep in my core. I stare at the glint of chrome peeking out from the depths of the drawer. It’d be so easy to just pull it out, turn it on, hold it against my clit…
I feel compelled to follow Amy’s instructions, even though she wouldn’t know. I want to do what she says. I want her to command me.
I shut the drawer.
I’m invigorated, energized by my decision, and my dirty thoughts. Suddenly, endlessly scrolling doesn’t seem as appealing as real life. Besides, I don’t think I could resist the allure of the pleasure locked away in my drawer for long. I count down from three and throw the covers off, exposing my body to the sobering winter chill of my room.
Time for a hot shower and a good day.
≋ ≋ ≋
Ethan and I are about a third of our way through a lazy meandering loop around a section of the university campus. Our feet crunch quietly against the already mostly compacted snow. Ethan looks cute, with his flushed cheeks and colorful scarf, his breath forming a cloud in the chilly air as he exhales a huff of approval at the story I’m telling him.
“So anyway, then – can you believe her – she reaches down the front of my shirt,” my voice is animated as I reach down the front of my top to illustrate, “and runs her fingers -”
“- Okay okay, I get it,” Ethan cuts me off. “Sexy girl stuff. Spare me the details please, if you can find it in you to resist your nature for even a moment.”
I grin at him, giving him a wink and a couple eyebrow pumps for good measure. “The important thing is it got a little steamy, and then she left me hanging. Can you believe that?”
Ethan chuckles at my indignant expression. “Jo, not everyone is so comfortable getting naked on the first date.”
“But you and Caleb did!” I’m still trying to pry information from him about that night. I’ve abjectly failed so far.
“We’re not ‘everyone’, Jo. We’re two sexy men comfortable in our skin. And Caleb’s a freak.”
I perk up at that. “Details, details, details!”
Ethan rolls his eyes and doesn’t even bother denying my request.
“Ugh, nobody ever fills me in on the dirty bits. I’m so open, why can’t the rest of you be?” I give him a holier-than-thou disapproving stare.
Ethan stops, and I stop next to him, turning to face him. He gets a misty look in his eyes and then pulls me suddenly into a hug. My expression evaporates as his warmth envelopes me. He’s a good hugger, and I pull him close against me to let him know.
“Jo, I’m happy for you. I really am,” he whispers into my ear, his voice laden with sincerity. “I’m glad you found someone. Lord knows of all people, you need it.”
I laugh into his shoulder, and return the hug anew, squeezing him so hard he wheezes. It feels good to be cared for. Better than sex? Doubtful. But good.
“You’re a sweetie, Ethan. Don’t celebrate too early, though. We still haven’t sealed the deal. Though I did successfully get a pizza date set up tonight”
Ethan breaks off the hug and punches me lightly on the shoulder. “You don’t have anything to worry about. She’s crazy for you. I just hope she can keep up once you two get into the bedroom. I don’t even want to know what it might take to satiate you.”
I narrow my eyes at him and give him a conspiratorial look. “Oh, I’m not too worried about that.”
Ethan’s eyes widen a smidge. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. I feel like I flipped a switch in her when things turned sexual. It’s like… she was waiting for permission or something.”
Ethan laughs at that. “Yes Jo, consent is a thing.”
It’s my turn to swat at him. “I know I know, shut up, but I’m like, so horny and comfortable with her, you think she’d get she can take that and run with it.”
“Jo, that’s not consent. Amy just waited for you to return interest, and it seems to me like you needed the time to process it.”
I get contemplative at that. Yeah, he’s got me pegged. I guess if she had been pushy, dom Amy too quickly I would have gotten… scared? Me, scared about sex? No. Impossible. But is it…
In a moment, he interrupts my reflection and continues. “But, like, what sort of things changed? What’d the switch do?”
I briefly explain to him Amy’s aggressive energy as we walk. As I give him my impression, his eyes slowly widen. When I get to the “no touching yourself” part his mouth drops open.
“Oh. My. God. Jo, Amy’s a freak. A dominant freak.” He covers his mouth in the most stereotypically gay gesture I’ve ever seen him adopt. After all this time, I’ve finally managed to scandalize him.
I grin at him. “And I think I like it.”
He shakes his head. “It’s always the quiet ones that turn out to be freaks.”
“Hey! That’s what I was thinking!”
At that, we start walking again. The conversation shifts to classes, and I tell him about this super boring old samurai movie we had to watch in one of my communications classes. This scandalizes him even more, and he starts on a rant about some director named Kagemusha or something. We devolve into friendly arguing for the rest of my walk, and it’s just what I need to keep my mind off of tonight.
My date with Amy tonight. My hot date with Amy tonight.
I can’t wait.
≋ ≋ ≋
I arrive early at the pizza spot and grab us a table. It’s cute in here, cozy. I’m wearing a dress I found in Laura’s closet, to scandalous effect. On Laura, it’s practically modest, but I can barely fit into it. I feel the waiter's eyes on me as I take off my jacket and take a seat. Get an eyeful, buddy, it’s all you’re going to get.
A short while and half a glass of water later, Amy arrives. She’s in the same big winter coat as last night, but I see a cute dress poking out the bottom. My eyes wander up her body until I get to her adorable smile. She shrugs out of her coat, and wow. She looks incredible in that dress. I didn’t know she had anything that delicious in her wardrobe…
“Hey, Jo,” she says.
Her gaze sticks on my chest for far longer than is appropriate as I stand up and hug her. Our bodies make contact as she wraps her arms around my neck. I almost slide out of this ridiculously small dress. Truth be told, I’d be ok with that outcome. I revel in the feeling of her body against mine as her hands cross behind my neck.
Amy shifts, leaning forward for a kiss. I was expecting it, but my heart still does a few flips for good measure. We both hesitate ever so slightly, not sure how to approach the “hello” kiss. In a moment, her lips find mine, missing the mark ever so slightly before pulling away.
“We need a little more practice, huh?” Amy giggles, her eyes twinkling.
We take our seats, and I marvel at how good she looks in the low light of this restaurant. I can't believe we’re actually here. I mean, sure, we've been spending a lot of time together lately, but this is different.
This is a date.
"So, this is kind of funny, huh?" I say, breaking the ice with a grin. "Finally, our first official date!"
Amy blushes, a delicate pink that goes well with the cute dress she's wearing. "Oh yeah? Does the time with the telescope in the park not count?" she asks.
I wink at her, leaning in just a bit too close across the table, lowering my voice to a playful whisper. "Maybe the end of that night counted," I say, "but you know, this is the date. ‘Date’ date. I-like-you date."
She laughs, her eyes darting down before meeting mine again. "Well, I'm glad we're making it official," she says, her voice barely above the clinking of glasses and the low murmur of other diners.
We lapse into a comfortable silence as we pick up the menus, scanning over the list of fancy Neapolitan pizzas. I sneak peeks at Amy, admiring her form, and how the romantic atmosphere makes her low-cut dress seem even more provocative. I can't help but feel a surge of... something. Pride at being here with such a hottie? Excitement? Maybe both.
The waiter comes over, and I order something with a ridiculous name that I can barely pronounce that has the longest list of toppings. Amy goes for a classic margherita, with a shy smile to the waiter. He totally checks us both out.
As the waiter leaves, I lean back letting my eyes roam freely over Amy’s body. "You look incredible, by the way," I say, not even trying to keep the admiration out of my voice. "I mean, I always think you look great, but tonight, there's something extra."
She ducks her head, the smile on her face telling me she loves the compliment, even if she's too meek to take it head-on. "Thank you, Jo," she murmurs. "I really, really like the dress."
I place a hand over my heart. "I'll have you know, this dress is a strategic choice. A weapon of mass distraction."
Amy laughs, and it's the best sound in the world. "Well, consider me thoroughly distracted," she says, and I know I've scored a point.
We settle into an easy rhythm of conversation. It's comfortable, it's us. I feel like I’ve got my wits about me, I’m back to myself. Confident Jo, powerful Jo.
Whatever mojo I’ve got, it’s working on Amy. She’s practically batting her eyelashes at me. As the food arrives and the night progresses, I find the tension building in me, between us. I desperately hope she comes home with me tonight.
“How’s the writing coming?” I get out between a mouthful of pizza.
“It’s good!” she says, lighting up in that way she does whenever we talk about it. “I’m almost through the climax,” - I snort and Amy rolls her eyes before continuing - “... and it’s fun to see all the threads come together. Then, it’s editing, editing, editing, if I want to actually polish it.”
“You totally should,” I say. I lean forward. "I can't wait to read the rest of Bren and Adaric's story. Will they make it through? What's going to happen?"
Amy's eyes twinkle, but she presses her lips together in a mock-serious manner. "No spoilers from me. I'll send it to you soon!" she promises, and I can tell she's pleased with her work.
We continue eating, the pizza as delicious as the company. I'm laughing at something Amy said when I feel a dollop of pizza sauce land on my mostly exposed chest. It's warm and slides slowly down, and I start to reach for my napkin.
Then Amy leans forward, and there's a sudden shift in her demeanor. Her eyes lock onto mine, a flash of something more intense, more dominant flickering in them. She leans forward, stretching across the table, and swipes the sauce up with her finger. The movement is deliberately slow, lingering on my chest, her other fingers unnecessarily grazing my upper breast. She brings her finger to her mouth, never breaking eye contact. I'm hit with a wave of desire so strong it's like a physical force.
I'm suddenly, acutely aware of the heat pooling between my legs, the way my breath catches in my throat. It's a stark contrast to Amy's usual meekness, and it sends a thrill of excitement down my spine. I'm turned on, more than turned on—I'm practically aflame with want, and I can tell by the slight quirk of her lip that Amy knows exactly what she's doing to me.
I'm lost in the thought of how Amy transforms when things get intimate, how she takes control in a way that's both surprising and incredibly hot. The dynamic has me visibly aroused, and Amy's eyes glint with excitement at the reaction she's elicited.
Then, in a voice that's barely above a whisper, she asks, "Did you follow my instructions?"
I nod, my mouth suddenly dry. "Yes," I manage to say. It's been a challenge, but I’ve not touched myself since last night, even if my drawer was beckoning for me. And the shower head. And my fingers. And…
Amy tilts her head, considering me. "Do you want me to come over tonight?" she asks, her voice soft but with an underlying command that sends another jolt through me.
"Yes," I say, the word coming out husky and laden with desire. The atmosphere at the table has changed so suddenly, it’s like Amy’s instantly hypnotized me.
She smiles, a small, knowing thing. "How much do you want me to come over?" she says, and it's not a question.
I lean in, my voice a fervent whisper. "Please, Amy, I need you tonight."
That seems to satisfy her, and she nods, her demeanor going meek, but there’s that edge that I'm eager, so eager, to explore. “Well Jo, I’d love to come over tonight."
I'm waving for the waiter before I even realize it. Normally I’d be reveling in how his gaze wanders down my front, looking down my dress, but right now it’s not even a candle to the bonfire that Amy’s stoked in me.
I practically throw my debit card at him, I’m so eager to get home.
