Missing Tim

Doctor Rhian Morgan missed her boyfriend. She usually spent her Saturday as preparing for her classes, looking over assignments that needed grading, and catching up on the work that her colleagues had published. That Saturday, though, she spent the morning pining over her absent love.

Listlessly she wandered her apartment, Rhian wished he was there. Not just for the sex, either. She missed having him around. So long had she lived alone, but after a scant handful of days with a companion, her apartment felt barren. Someone to eat with, someone to talk with. She felt his absence as concretely as she had felt his presence when he had been there.

She wondered what he might be doing. Was he with Nancy? With her mother? Knowing Tim, he had finished with one of them and had begun studying. He took his scholastics very seriously, one of the things that attracted her to him. Not the only thing, of course. Tim was an attractive man. So commanding, so sexy. How many times had she lost track of her lectures staring into his cleavage? Too many to recount.

Bringing out her work bag, Rhian pulled out some work she had been putting off, spreading it out in front of her on the table. She needed to stop acting like a love-struck teenager and start acting like a grown woman! Yes, thoughts of Tim made her heart flutter, but life went on. She couldn’t spend her life at his beck and call.

But then her phone signalled an incoming text. She scrambled to see it.

It was Tim.

Oh glory of glories! Butterflies invaded her stomach, an aria of exhilaration rang in her ears. Her love had remembered her!

Their exchange was banal, but the beauty in the mundanity was not lost on her. So comfortable with each other were they that they could share moments of normality. No need for pretence, only pure honesty and vulnerability.

Yes, he confirmed that he had been studying, but more than that. He had been missing her! To have her love returned to her was more than she had hoped, and she swam in the feeling. His attention, the confirmation of their connection, would sustain her through their time apart, fuel her in her work. Looking down at the papers before her, Rhian knew she could easily accomplish the task, especially with the love of Tim in her sails.

And then she was derailed.

Not by a rejection, but by some final texts, images sent by her boyfriend. Her arousal became too much to bare as she stared at the images.

In both images, Tim was staring at his camera, making a classic duck-lipped pose that showed off his painted lips. But is wasn’t his lips that Rhian was staring at. On his hear were a pair of cat ears. On his feet were a pair of platform heels. On his legs were a pair of stockings. And his torso was barely contained by a leopard print corset bodice. His breasts were spilling out for her eyes to drink in.

Gone were all thoughts of work. She stood up and crossed to her bedroom where she slid her sweatpants off and lay on her bed. Sliding open a drawer on her nightstand, she pulled out her dildo, then held the images that Tim had texted for her. Just because Tim wasn’t there, she decided, didn’t mean he couldn’t bring her pleasure.

As she slid the dildo inside her, she couldn’t wait until she saw him again so she could return the favour.