The Sex Virus

The muted ring of the bedroom phone interrupted Dee. She removed her hand from her breast where idle fantasizing had drawn it while reading a graphic romance novel; her nipple a firm mound under her tee shirt. She reached for the phone wondering who could be calling this time of day, and also why she had nothing better to do than read a trashy novel on her day off. It wasn't as if the FBI was giving her many of them lately.

She listened for a moment, grimaced, and hung up. Another telemarketer. Why couldn't it have been someone she wanted to talk to, like Jantz Preston or Mary Andrews They were the only two at the Houston regional office she had gotten to like in the few months since her assignment. And damn the telemarketers, anyway. No matter how many laws were passed or how many barriers she put up some still found loopholes into her system. Dee picked up her book again wondering what had compelled her to seek out something like this. Her usual reading material ranged from science fiction to mysteries, with thrillers thrown in for variety.

She stretched out with her head propped on pillows allowing her thick mane of wavy black hair to spill down over her shoulders. She twirled a lock around one finger. The book cover featured the standard bosom-revealing heroine clasped in the arms of a larger-than-life, bronzed muscular man. As if any men looked that way, Dee thought, turning back to the passage, trying to recapture the fey mood that came over her more and more often lately.

... his hand stole to her breast in sneaky increments while he sent a questing tongue...

Dee again became absorbed in the lurid descriptions. Before she knew it she was mimicking the male protagonist in the story, cupping and fondling her breasts while imagining he was doing it, except that the character resembled Jantz Preston. Her breathing deepened and became more rapid. Suddenly, Dee became the person she was fantasizing about: Mary with the blue eyes and loose blond hair she saw at work, only now she was undressed, breasts swaying as she leaned over her. Dee became aware of how forcefully she responded to the fantasy, and flung the book away and rolled onto her stomach.

Her breasts flattened, her nipples rubbing against their covering causing her lower body to react. Her hips squirmed, pressing down against the bed in frustration. She felt as if the thermostat had been turned up. She rolled back over, and closed her eyes trying to visualize Jantz in bed beside her. Damn it, what did he see in Lisanne, anyway Her hand crept down to the waistline of her white shorts. Her fingers played with the hem of her tee shirt, inching it up until she felt bare skin. But again, it became Mary she thought of and it was Mary's fingers she imagined sliding beneath the fabric of her shorts.