Page 106 of Stroked Long
“Oh, do you want me to go so you can get your sleep?”
“No,” I say quickly, unable to mask my feelings. “I want to hear your voice.”
“Don’t you know how to make a girl blush? Who knew Mr. Shy Pants was actually going to be Mr. Romantic? I got your little package by the way.”
I smile, knowing exactly what she received. “Did you like it?” It’s the first time I’ve ever sent a girl something. I spent a long time online trying to figure out the perfect “I miss you” gift. Fuck, I hope she likes it.
“Love it. I had no idea someone could partake in an Oreo bar, but you proved me wrong. I ate half a box. I’m going to have to roll myself around the airports tomorrow. Next time you see me, you won’t recognize me with my Oreo love handles.”
“Stop,” I say sternly. “You’re fucking perfect, Oreo consumption and all.” I hear her sigh on the other end of the phone, and it brings a smile to my face. “So tell me, which was your favorite?”
The minute the idea hit me, I kind of went a little crazy with purchasing items, but in the end, I think I did a good job. I decided on giving her an Oreo bar—to satisfy her recent cravings, and mine. I purchased multiple packs of Double Stuf Oreos and paired them with all different kinds of toppings and dips ranging from peanut butter, to icing, to marshmallow fluff.
“You’re not going to judge me when I tell you?”
“Never, Rubes.”
“Okay, I uh, really liked combining Fluff with peanut butter and adding a slice of banana on top. I call it my ode to Elvis, minus the bacon.”
My stomach gurgles. “Shit, that sounds good, Rubes.”
“Really? I thought I was being a little psychotic when I was putting it altogether, but maybe I was also feeling that way because I was shaking uncontrollably, frothing at the mouth with excitement. My brain was on overdrive.”
“Too many options?” I ask, a chuckle to my voice.
“Way too many but it’s amazing. I’m bringing the can of coconut pecan frosting and a bag of Oreos on the plane with me so I can make my very own German Chocolate Cake Oreo, and if TSA tries to take my can of icing, I will start a riot.”
“Not recommended.” Why can I see Ruby on the TSA conveyor belt, a shoe in one hand as a weapon and her icing in the other, barking and yipping at people to stay away? “Maybe put some in a small three-ounce, approved container just to be safe.”
“You really think they would take it away?”
“Rubes, I’ve seen them take away baby food before. They will have no problem confiscating your icing tub.”
“Rat bastards!”
“They’re just doing their job.” I try to bring her rage back down.
“I know, but frosting? Can’t a girl live out her fantasy of eating an Oreo German Chocolate Cake concoction while flying thousands of miles up in the air?”
“Wow, what a fantasy. You’ve had that for what? Three minutes?”
“Maybe.” The way she says that, I can picture her in my head lifting her chin in defiance. “Still a terrific fantasy.”
“I can think of better ones,” I say in a husky tone, thinking of her perfectly pebbled nipples pressed against my tongue.
“Oh yeah? Do they involve me naked?”
“My fantasies always involve you being naked. Your tits bouncing up and down, your mouth open in ecstasy, and your pussy clenched so tightly around my cock I nearly black out.”
She clears her throat. “Well, that’s quite the little picture you’ve painted.” She pauses for a second and her vice grows quiet. “Do you really envision me like that?”
“All the fucking time. Why? Does it freak you out?” Shit, am I being a creeper? Picturing her naked, riding my cock. I sure as fuck hope not.
“No,” she whispers. “What other fantasies do you have?”
“What don’t I have? They all involve you, naked, and in various positions. Do you ever think of me . . . that way?” Why am I sweating? Am I nervous to hear her answer? I know she likes me, there is no question about that, but does she like me like I like her? My fondness for her runs deep. I thrivewithher. She’s gentle, has a kind heart, and her understanding and nurturing beguile me.
“If I did, would you tease me?”
