Can you write a story where Barbra has a wet dream about Melissa and is unable to look her in her eyes the next day
They’re in the gymnasium guarding the desks after the school closes for the night. Melissa lays across two of them, her iPhone in her hand as she scrolls through the instagram tag about ‘Desking’.
Barbara sits in a chair beside her. It seems the most innocuous thing in the world, Melissa dropping her hand from the phone to stroke her shoulder. Then without clarity on how exactly it happened, Barbara has the 2nd grade teacher bent over a desk while her hand slips between her thighs.
She wakes up wet, in every possible way. She’s sweating and her hair sticks unpleasantly to her forehead. When she moves she can feel herself wet in other ways, unmistakable when her thighs shift as she gets out of bed.
Later at breakfast when her husband asks how she slept, she sees Melissa from her dream sharply moaning her name as she’s slammed against the desk. She spills an entire bowl of cereal over her lap. It’s the only time in her life she’s had to take two showers within an hour.
At school she’s almost able to put it out of her head until she passes Melissa’s classroom and sees the redhead sitting on her desk, facing her students. Another flash from the dream, this time standing between Melissa’s legs, her hands parting her thighs, the redhead laying back on the desk, papers and pens and copies of Peter Rabbit clattering to the floor around them.
“Barbara!” Melissa calls after her when she’s almost to her own classroom.
Barbara swallows hard, turns to face the other woman closing the distance between them in the otherwise vacant hall.
“Hey! We still on for lunch today? I promise you it’s gonna be the best Italian you’ve ever had.”
Barbara doesn’t even know what to do with that kind of effortless innuendo. Knows she’s blushing and is glad for the extra melanin that makes it less obvious.
“Oh.. uh yes! Of course yes.”
“You okay?” Melissa asks, her hand settling on her own hip. “You look a little rattled. Did you run into Ava doing her latest MLM pitch?”
“No, no. Just having an off day,” Barbara admits and it’s half-true. Still she feels extreme guilt over it, can’t quite meet Melissa’s eyes.
“I had one of those last week. Student got gum in my hair.” Melissa reaches out and pats Barbara’s arm reassuringly. Barbara jumps a little at the contact and Melissa looks concerned.
“Alright, this isn’t just an off day. Who fucked with you?”
Well, no one in the present reality, she regrets.
“Listen if I have to go after someone on your behalf, you just tell me who. I’ve got people everywhere Barbara.”
She knows the redhead is more than serious. Hasn’t asked too many questions about Melissa’s friend Sal from the meat packing district.
“I will be fine by lunch, I promise.” Barbara says if for no other reason that to bring Melissa down from the horse. Knows Melissa will be watching her extra closely now that she’s worried, so she knows she’s going to have to be better at hiding this new guilty discomfort.
And she mostly does until she meets Melissa at her empty classroom door for lunch and finds the other woman sitting on the edge of her desk, one boot up on the edge of a student’s desk, glasses on the bridge of her nose and scrolling on her phone.
“Hey come check this out,” she says, peering at Barbara over the tops of her glasses and Barbara hesitates for a second or two before joining her, trying to stop herself from looking too long at Melissa’s thigh encased in black leather.
It’s just a silly video but the way Melissa angles the phone makes it impossible for her to stand anywhere but at the other woman’s hip. It’s like the universe has somehow turned against her. Probably God getting her for impure thoughts about her co-worker.
When the video’s over, Melissa drops her leg and stands, reaching across Barbara for her keys.
“I’m going to show you the best Italian this city has to offer,” Melissa says over her shoulder as she leads them towards her car. Barbara groans under her breath as she follows, knowing that she’s already looking at it.