“I might like it if some guy did that to me,” I tell Diana. “And more. I would like him to whip me. To squeeze my ass and call me his whore. To use me for his own pleasure while also knowing that he is giving me pleasure.”
“Wow,” Diana says, her eyes wide with surprised glee. “Now that’s what I’m talking about! I didn’t know you had it in you, Elizabeth Jane. Or maybe I did, and that’s why I was trying to draw it out. I was sitting there in class thinking I couldn’t be the only one hot for teacher while he was talking about animal sex like that.”
“No,” I tell her quickly, adamantly opposed to her incorrect assumption that it’s Dr. Calvert I’m talking about. “I want someone to do all of that to me and more. But not Dr. Calvert. He’s just not my type.”
Diana’s mouth drops open and she looks at me as if I just told her I don’t like candy or wine. But then she smiles, obviously approving of my feisty reaction.
“Okay then,” she shrugs. “Why not? What do you have against the handsome and erudite Dr. Calvert?”
“First of all, I don’t think he’s that handsome. I can see how some girls go for the blonde beach- kissed surfer look but that type’s a dime a dozen out here. I don’t like his aloof attitude, as if he knows he’s hot or even thinks he’s hotter than he is. My tastes are for something a little subtler and refined. I prefer the dark and mysterious type, with a gentle confidence and a manner that exudes quiet strength rather than boastful pretty- boy showmanship.”
“Elizabeth Jane Suttell,” she says, and then whistles in approval. “I didn’t know you had it in you. I’ve heard about what a goody two shoes you are but maybe you’re just a girl who knows what you like and won’t settle for anything else. I knew there was a reason we should be friends.”
She smiles at me, and I can’t help but smile back.
We should be friends? We’re friends? I have a friend?
I don’t know where I found it in me to go on my little tirade against Dr. Calvert, but I guess it shows that I feel comfortable enough around Diana to express it. I wanted to know if she was making fun of me or genuinely interested in my opinion, and if it was the former then I wanted to show her that two can play that game. I can make fun of her— and her precious Dr. Calvert— right back.
I guess my bold move pays off, because she leans into me as if she’s going to tell me a big secret. But just then, I see my mom’s car pulling into the parking lot and I know it’s time to wrap it up. I can’t believe I even continued the conversation, knowing that my mom was on her way here.
“So,” Diana asks, her voice in a hushed whisper even though no one else is around to overhear. “If you’d like someone to do that to you, but for some crazy reason I still don’t understand, that someone is not Dr. Calvert, then just who is it that you are wanting to tie you up and treat you like his dirty, filthy whore?”
My face burns in a stunning blush again, but this time it’s more out of desire than embarrassment. Because I know exactly who I’d like to do that to me, even though I can never have him.
It’s unutterable. Impossible. Most definitely out of reach as well as out of the bounds of reality. But I guess that’s why it’s called a fantasy.
And I guess that’s why, when Dr. Calvert was talking about an older male animal taking a younger female in the wild— dominating her and doing what he wanted to do with her until his most primal urges were completely satisfied— I couldn’t stop thinking about who I really want to do that to me.
But I can’t tell Diana. Or anyone.
Especially not right now.
“Gotta go,” I tell her, heading over to my mom’s car as she slows it down near the sidewalk. “See you in class.”
I can see my mom craning her neck, trying to make out who I’m talking to and why, and undoubtedly trying to guess what our conversation might be about as well. I already anticipate her asking me a million nosy questions about it. The last thing I need is for her to overhear any of this conversation or I’ll be grounded in my room with only a Bible and prayer beads until I’m thirty.
“Oh, Elizabeth Jane, don’t leave me hanging!” Diana calls out, as I hurriedly walk over to my mom. “Tell me who you want to tie you up!”
“Hi Mom,” I say, jumping into the passenger seat and closing the door as if I’ve just escaped a fire, hoping that Diana doesn’t say another word.
She doesn’t. It’s pretty clear she’s heard the rumors about me and my crazy mom. Luckily, she just waves at me coyly and winks, as if reminding me of her question.
As if I could forget.
Who do I want to tie me up and make me submit to his every whim?
I’ll never tell a soul. It’s only for me to think about— torture myself about— until I’m old enough and financially independent enough to get away from my mother and be with a real guy in the real world.
Because there’s no way I could be with the man of my fantasies. That would just be too good to be true. So, I’ll keep it a secret that burns me up inside— and makes me drip with desire every time I think about it— for the rest of my life.