Captured by Time by Carolyn Faulkner, Alta Hensley Page B

everything else she wanted to take back with her on her body, so that it wasn't just touching her, it was on her.
    Then, with the help of some lubricant she'd bought that she'd conveniently left in the pocket of the skirt she was wearing, she hiked all of those clothes up or down, so she could open her legs, which was something she hadn't thought to accommodate, and began the extremely awkward, unfamiliar process of pleasuring herself.
    To her surprise, it was much easier this time than on any of her other attempts, which usually left her feeling frustrated and stupid and had her resolving to study that much harder rather than trying to do something that had as little reward as that did for all of that mortifying effort.
    And she knew it was all because of him—because her sexual experiences with him had given her both a baseline and a considerable boost towards her end goal. All she had to do was to conjure up images of what he had actually done to her, and she was almost already there. That had been one of her problems when she had tried on her own. She hadn't had anything to draw on. She wasn't the most imaginative of people, and fantasizing wasn't comfortable for her.
    But she no longer had to do that.
    As soon as her eager fingers found what they were after, slippery as they were with the lube, she knew it wasn't going to take long; that this was going to be an entirely different experience than she'd ever had before, and she wasn't wrong. She turned her mind to Jude, to the things he'd done to her—remembering his mouth on hers, the way her nipples had ached and hardened as he suckled them. How his mouth had danced over the place where her fingers were now.
    Soon she was breathless from the visions that played through her mind, and was surprised and not a little embarrassed by the fact that they weren't all memories of times he had made love to her. Some of what was playing behind her eyes were the times when he had spanked her, and that only seemed to make her clit jump with disturbing eagerness beneath her fingertips.
    As she drew closer and closer to the edge, visions of him spanking her began to mix more regularly into her fantasy, especially the ones just before he took her. She even replayed the moments of losing her virginity, recalling how surprisingly tender he'd been with her when he realized. But then her mind went where she hadn't thought it would—to the cabin, when she'd been tied down and he was using his belt on her, and then, at last, what had her hurtling into her own vortex of ecstatic spasms was remembering the way he'd fucked her afterwards, forcing her to pleasure as he did so, fucking her hard, and making her come just as hard…
    She had to clench her teeth together tightly in order to keep from screaming as her body was wracked with convulsions that had her thinking she was going to go out of her mind from the sheer paradise of it. One completion led into another, and then another, and then another, and before she had a chance to even begin to recover, she fell into a deep sleep.
    "What are you doing here?" she heard him ask, his words waking her up. "And who told you that you could do that?"
    "Do what?" she asked softly. She recognized his voice, but it sounded a bit different from what she remembered.
    Suddenly, she felt someone covering her hands and pressing against them, which were apparently right where she'd had them before she'd fallen asleep—at her privates.
    "I'll deal with that later. What is all this stuff? And where did you go? And how did you get here? You've been gone for a day or more, and I know you didn't come in through the door."
    Those last two questions brought her out of her half sensuous, half sleepy reverie. Cimmy sat up—barely able to, considering the quantity of clothes she was wearing—and looked down at the bed they were sharing. She had returned to the cabin he had brought her to, and she had been right to put everything around her. It seemed as though all