hoarse. “I don’t want you to go.” I really don’t want her to
leave. I’m so not ready for this night to be over yet. It wasn’t
that I didn’t love our time with Tildy, but I’d thought about
this all week. I thought about Steph. I thought about her in
many different ways, most of them without clothes on, in my
bed.
“We could watch the rest of that movie.”
That movie was a movie for kids. It was pretty boring.
No wonder even Tildy fell asleep. “I think I’m good.”
“Then what—”
I step forward and grab Steph around the waist. Even
though she’s off balance, her hands cup my face, tilting it up.
She’s a few inches taller than me, and she bends her head and
finds my lips, no hesitation. Her lips are frenzied, the kiss
desperately passionate. Maybe she’d thought about me too.
Maybe she imagined me without clothes on. Did she touch
herself because she couldn’t sleep at night? Was it agony to do
anything for her as well? Sleep? Walk? Eat? Put clothes on?
Her lips are scorching, consuming me. They’re soft
and pliable, exhilaratingly delicious. I start fumbling with her
shirt, trying to push it up, get it off.
It doesn’t really work, since it keeps getting trapped
between our arms and bodies. “Can you get this off?” I pant
with what little breath I can draw in.
Steph tears her shirt off and throws it to the floor. She
does it quickly, but it still seems like it’s in slow motion. My
eyes fall immediately to her bra. It’s plain black with a silver
clasp in the front. Not fancy, but Steph’s creamy breasts swell
over the cups. I can feel desire pool between my legs and my
stomach feels like it’s trying to digest rocks. I want her so