She knew what she wanted.

She remembered when the winter had transformed to spring.

Her suitor had come in strong, unsure, yet inspired.

She let him in cautiously, as she had been twice bitten, still recovering from the wounds.

They shared the humor of two sensitive individuals who were pleasantly surprised that they had found each other. 

Then came the predictable shift, which started with a misunderstanding, then grew into a realization.

She thought her confidence would have been shattered. Instead, she assessed the situation, requested information, and raised her standards.

And she remained wanting more.

In summer, she broke away, disappointed, missing him, yet more powerful than ever before, reflecting on the lessons he had taught her about herself.

Then came the fall, the autumn, the leaves donning beautiful colors she had a newfound appreciation for.

An unfamiliar admirer entered, possessing a self-assured nature that he didn't realize he had displayed.

Amused by his ingenuous swagger, she responded to his laser beam advances with clever quips.

They continued conversing for longer than she had expected, their messages evolving from basic descriptions of their respective interests to complex analyses of what made each of them tick.

She consciously crafted phrases to entertain him, entice him, elicit laughs on top of eroticism. He often misread her comedic one-liners as serious entreaties, throwing him off-balance. Her subsequent, nervous explanations charmed him more than the original jokes.

They turned each other on, whether they were together or apart. She read his missives and grew warm between her thighs. His cock ached when she popped into his mind, urging him to stroke. Neither disclosed to the other how each orgasm made them hunger for a moment of afterglow together, sharing the excitement that their bodies produced.

Then came the vulnerability, the admission that their initial lust had made room for a friendship, which was evolving beyond simple admiration.

They mused on how they could be together, if only from a brief juncture, defying the boundaries of space and time and morality. She wondered if they could find a middle ground, between his fears and her knowledge. Though intrigued, he was aware that the science was absurd.

However.

If she believed, if he trusted, if they allowed for the realization of the impossible...

In her quiet house, she sat alone on her bed, the door to her unlit, unoccupied living room ajar. 

She closed her eyes.

She imagined him on the couch waiting for her, sipping a beverage.

As she remained on the bed, eyes shut, she lay back and rolled down her sweatpants. She let her hand forage through her dresser drawer to find the device. She stubbornly fumbled to plug it in, allowed her eyes to locate the outlet, then re-shut them and returned to her fantasy.

She envisioned him setting down his half-full glass next to the mug she had abandoned on her coffee table. She beheld his fingers sliding his zipper down, adjusting the bulge in his boxer briefs, letting his digits linger.

On the mattress, she placed her rumbling toy on top of her sodden panties, increasing the moisture trickling through her bush. She removed her bra but kept on her yellow tank top, which she raised to expose her full, natural breasts.

As her hand caressed her chest and her lower lips swelled, she watched him in her mind, releasing his stiff member from his vestments, wantonly squeezing his veiny shaft, knowing he was thinking of her.

She poked the head of her appliance inside the crotch of her panties, simultaneously thumbing her puffy nipple, breathing along with her vision of him.

She conjectured that he would grunt, he would get closer, the cum surging from his balls to his distended cockhead.

He had told her once that he had sprayed his chest after a solo session, and that the one image permeating his thoughts had been her, seated on top of him, giving his lips a single kiss.

She came hard, writhing on her sheets, flustered by how his desire for her subsequently made her crave him more. 

She opened her eyes.

A steady beam illuminated the previously dark hallway.

She pulled down her shirt, pulled up her pants, and left her bra on the soggy bed. 

She had never heard him speak, but she knew it was his voice, calling her name.

She opened the door.

He held out his hand, which he sheepishly wiped on his splattered shirt.

She stepped into the light as he moved out of the shadow.

Their faces beaming, they walked into the unknown together.

He would have a glass of wine, she would have a hot vanilla, and they would enjoy each other.