Wrong place wrong time
Tags: Nsfw, LGBTQ, Erotica, Erotica For Women, Lesbian

My friend Rachel was throwing a going away party for herself at her mom's house. I'd known her since the eighth grade, so our friendship was significant enough that I'd agreed to go and saved up the money for cab fare. It sounds as if I'm either exaggerating the price of a ride or the extent of my friendship with Rachel, but as a university student, I had little time to work and even less money to show for it. The party was supposed to start at 8. Most rational people leave an hour of cushion time just to ensure they aren't the first ones there; now it was 7:30 and I was in a cab on my way to the house. I was always the first to arrive. I can even recount a time that I showed up before the host. I'm not exactly sociable material. I've made very few friends in my life time, and I'm in no rush to make more. I'm a pretty humble person, I'd say. I usually prefer staying at home and watching a movie than going out to a bar and dancing with some acquaintances. Not that I could afford going to the bar in the first place, but the gist of it is that I'm not a people person, and I am totally okay with that. Not to say people haven't tried bringing me out a little. As naive and innocent as I am, I've been able to tell when someone tries to pick me up. I've been told I'm fairly attractive, even though I don't try to make myself stand out too much. I have long, wavy auburn hair, which I usually take to wearing in a ponytail. I've got a fair complexion and somewhat sharp features, besides my apple cheeks. Other than that, I'm average everything. Average height, average weight, average bust and bum—Average Denise. Some call me Dens. This party was probably the first one I attended since the beginning of the school year. It was December now—everybody was finishing up their semester and planning trips home to be with families. Rachel was transferring to a school in London, and there she planned to stay until her degree was complete and minted. Which meant I, nor anyone else, would likely see her for another year and a half. I was mulling over that fact when the cabbie turned down her road. "Just the fifth one down on the right here," I said, pointing over the passenger seat from my place in the back. The man pulled over silently and flicked on the light. The register blinked back at me in red numbers, making me wince. I handed him forty and asked for just a five back. He thanked me and I bid him a good night before getting out of the cab. I was hoping Rachel would let me crash—I was fairly certain I couldn't afford the trip back. Rachel's mom's place was a blue and white two-storey house, straight out of a white picket fence fantasy (except that it had no fence). All the lights were on inside. I checked my watch. 7:48. Yup. First one there, without fail. I walked up the cobblestone path, which had been immaculately shovelled of snow, and climbed the steps to the porch. Before I even got close to the doorbell, Rachel whipped open the door and beamed down at me. Rachel was a bit taller and slimmer than I was. She looked like she could have been an actress or a model if she wanted to. She had blonde hair which she had pulled back into a sleek french twist, and a sultry tan, even though it was the dead of winter. She was wearing a plain yet gorgeous beige dress which made her look curvier. She had these sparkling blue eyes and a wide, brightening smile—the kind that would force you to smile, too, even if you were down in the dumps. "Hi, Dens!" she exclaimed. "Hi, Rachel. I'm the first one, I bet." "Yup. Just in time to help me get set up!" she said, waving me in. "I'll take your coat." "Thanks" I surrendered my jacket to her. "So where's your mom this weekend?" "Annual meeting in Pittsburgh," Rachel replied automatically. My inner alarm went off; I shouldn't have brought up her mom. I decided to let the topic drop. "What sort of things do you need to do to set up?" I asked. "Just set out some snack bowls, prep the bathrooms for sick guests, that sort of thing." She led me into the kitchen and we got to work. There really wasn't much to do—I set out the finger foods while she placed extra buckets in the bathrooms (just in case the toilets were ocupado) and made them more presentable and homey. We hooked her iPod up to some wireless speakers and picked some appropriate ambient music that could appeal to anyone and set a good mood. She then lined up some bottles of alcohol that was meant to be community booze, or "pity booze" as she called it, and tried to label them as such with masking tape and a felt pen. When I pointed out that the word "pity" had only one T instead of two, she renamed them all "titty booze" with a snort and a snicker. "Well... I think that's it. What time is it?" she asked me. "8:15." "I'm just eager, I guess. Let's go see if anything's on TV." Her living room was right next to the front hallway; that way we could keep a close watch on the street and anyone arriving. We sat in front of the television and watched re-runs of sitcoms; she glanced over at the front door every few minutes. At about 8:48, she huffed and crossed her arms haughtily. "Maybe everyone misread the time on the event," I suggested. "Maybe," she replied stiffly. When the episode ended and the next program began, she turned her turned head away and fell eerily quiet. I glanced at my watch for good measure. 8:58. I looked over at Rachel with concern. It was dark in the room, but I could still see her shoulders quivering. "Rachel?" She turned her head as far away from me as possible when I said her name. Then she suddenly sniffed and brought her wrist to her face. I shifted towards her. "Rachel, what's the matter?" "Oh!" she cried, slapping her hand on the couch and turning forwards. Tears streaked down her face. "I haven't had a great week," she muttered, trying to keep her chin from trembling. "Why? What happened?" I asked, reaching out to stroke her shoulder. "Before my mom left, she... she told me in so many words that she wasn't proud of me. That she didn't think too highly of what I do." She sniffed again and tried to wipe away her tears, leaving smudged mascara across her cheeks. "Then it's all these stupid people who call me their friend. I can't even get anyone to come out when I offer free booze!" "Maybe... they all got the wrong date?" I offered, trying to cheer her up and failing miserably. "Maybe they all thought it was tomorrow, not today. And in any case, I don't think your mom doesn't think that lowly of you." "But she does!" Rachel cried. "Ever since I dropped out of Business, she lost respect of me. Not doing something sensible with my life—I can tell that's how she thinks. She wants me to get a degree that will get me a high paying job, not a degree I'll actually enjoy doing." "Rachel..." I shook my head. "Even if that's true... you can't let that get you down like this. Come on." "She's the person I've looked up to my whole life," Rachel said miserably. "What am I supposed to do if my only role model doesn't see me in good light?" "Get a new role model," I said, shrugging. "Or replace the light bulb." She furrowed her brow and her sadness was instantaneously replaced with bemusement. Then she burst into laughter and covered her mouth with her hand. I smiled a little, relieved that she wasn't actually angry about my comment. Rachel's laughter tapered off and she sighed contently. I caressed her shoulder again. "Even if they don't show up, we can have all the booze to ourselves." "Titty booze sounds pretty good about now," she said, jumping up from the couch. Laughing and wiping away the rest of her tears, she hurried down the hall to the kitchen. ***

As much of a shut-in as I am, I don't mind drinking from time to time. It's not that I ever get drunk alone—I mean, I thought about it once, but I got bored and read a book instead. But I've never been opposed to drinking. I realize that even though it's legal, it is a drug, and it has ruined people's lives. But I've always been a proponent of libertarian principles. As long as I'm not ruining anyone else's life, I see no harm in getting a little intoxicated now and again. And even though it was just me and Rachel getting sauced, I was totally down for it. One of our favourite shows was on when we sat down with shot glasses and various sorts of alcohol, and Rachel immediately invented a drinking game. "Every time the laugh track goes off, we take a shot," she declared. Unoriginal, but effective. We settled on just a sip every time it happened; I had pointed out that that many shots in such a short frame of time could actually kill a person. We each took about eight shots once the episode was done, and that had been with small slurps, too. Before 9:30 hit, both of us were pleasantly drunk. I wasn't sure about Rachel, but I felt like I was just poisoned enough to feel lightheaded and completely joyous without any trace of nausea. I was also on a fit of giggles that I couldn't quash. This inevitably drew giggles out of Rachel too. "What's so funny?" she asked through her laughter. "I dunno," I said, tears in my eyes. She keeled over in silent fits, landing in my lap. I leaned back into the sofa, squeezing my eyes shut and feeling the cramp in my side tighten. For some reason, this only made me laugh harder. "What—what are you thinking right now?" she asked between gasps. "I was just thinking about—" I began laughing hard again. "What?" "Titty booze—" Rachel guffawed and put her glass down, as if she'd sensed she'd spill her drink all over herself if she didn't. We held on to each other, busting our guts. "Why'd you call it that?" I asked. "I like titties," she whined. We howled together. "What?" I managed. "Yeah!" she said, straightening up. Then her eyes grew wide and she pulled her mouth into a tight O. "Oh, let's play a new game! Okay"—she straightened up and crossed her legs on the couch, facing me, and I mirrored her posture—"I tell you a secret of mine, and then you tell me a secret, and whoever has the more embarrassing story gets to tell the other how much to drink!" "Who's the judge of which story is more embarrassing?" I asked. "We'll deal with that later," she declared, waving a hand dismissively. "Okay, so, this happened maybe... three years ago? Just a few months before graduation. Anyway, this guy from the other class... Ash—yeah, Ash!—walked in on me and Tammy once." I blinked. "What?" My laughs were flickering out like a dying fire. "Yeah, remember Tammy?" Tammy was this small Latino girl that was renowned around our old school for being a little promiscuous. She couldn't have weighed more than one-hundred pounds at any given time, and was mostly just small all over. She packed a lot of sex appeal, though, and usually liked to flaunt it to her max. So I said yes, I remembered her well, then swallowed. "Tammy and I made this deal to meet each other every other day in third block in the library staff bathroom—because no one ever used it anyway—and we'd... you know... fool around." Rachel took the time to giggle and reach for her shot glass, but she stopped, hissed at herself, and muttered something about drinking afterwards. "Anyway, we got started doing that at a party at the beginning of the year, then we just... started doing it at school. At first we'd just make out and stuff, but things got a little heavier the more safe we felt in the bathroom. That day she leaned against the bathroom wall and I pulled her top up over her chest. I started experimenting with her tits—pinching her nipples mostly—and just as she was starting to look real hot and bothered... Ash walked in!" I was suddenly aware of a knot that had grown in my stomach, and when I tried to say, "Oh, really?" I realized my mouth was too dry to speak. So I made a weird noise at the back of my throat which I was able to pass off as a confirmation. "Tammy shrieked and ran out of the bathroom—with her shirt back on, of course—and Ash all but booked it out of the library. The next time Tammy and I met, she didn't feel so safe anymore. And for good reason, too—we found out Ash was peeking in on us again. "We caught him about the third time after hanging outside the bathroom door. He'd figured out our schedule and came by every second day during the third block to listen. At first I acted disgusted and annoyed that my private time with Tammy was being ruined by this pervert, but just when I thought it was all over, Tammy said I should invite him in. "So, at this point, I'd felt a little nervous. I mean, I'd never really done anything with a guy before. Even around a guy. But I opened the door a crack, and before he could run away again, I whispered for him to come in. "We let him sit on the can while we made out, and... well, that's when I like to consider the time I lost my virginity." I gulped and tried to make it unnoticeable, and let her continue. "Tammy suddenly became more—vivid. I suppose she felt in her element—she'd slept with guys before. She payed a lot of attention to me with him watching. She was forceful too. That was the first time I was fingered, now that I think about it...." Normally at this point I would have felt uncomfortable and asked her to stop. But luckily for her I was liquored up on booze. And lucky for me, I was really enjoying this story, and successfully hiding it. At least I was really trying to. "That was the first time I saw a penis too. Ash jerked off on the seat while she fondled me, and as I started to come, he made a mess all over himself. Then after that she showed me how to do it to her. She asked him to come fondle her while I did it, and... I guess it sort of became a threesome. I didn't have sex with him at all, but we were kind of up close and personal. "Tammy asked me if I liked Ash being there, and I said I kind of did. But she started asking him to come every time to join us, and I started to back out. Then it just became the two of them screwing in the bathroom every other afternoon." "Did you keep fooling around with just her?" I asked, not really knowing why I'd have the gal to ask such a thing. I was probably just caught up in the moment. "Yeah, we did. Just not on a regular basis. Actually, at an end of the year party we had, her and I got sloshed, and she went down on me. God, that was actually one of the best lays I've ever had!" I could actually feel my cheeks and chest flush. I had no idea Rachel was so extroverted and experienced. I mean, I always knew throughout high school that she went to parties and sometimes got into things kids our age weren't supposed to, but I thought for the most part that she and I were relatively similar when it came to sexual stuff. I knew she was really attractive and a lot of boys swooned over her, but considering how she acted around them, and the fact that she never talked about this kind of stuff before, I just assumed she was conservative. Before I could censor the words coming out of my mouth, I asked: "What was it like?" I immediately seized up in embarrassment, but Rachel carried on as if I'd asked her about the weather. "Oh... you know when a guy goes down on you and he starts with the small licks in all the outer reaches before he gets to the sweet spot? How it aches in your thighs and your stomach?" I could actually feel something like that between my legs. I shook my head slightly. "No." "Well, it was twice as—wait, what?" I forgot to breathe for a second. "You said you don't know what it feels like?" Rachel said, flabbergasted. "Well, what about sex?" "I... um. Don't know." Rachel tilted her head forward and looked up at me disbelievingly. "What, you mean... never? Not even, like, petting, or anything?" I pretended to be interested in my fingernails. "Oh my God," Rachel cried, her voice growing louder with each word until she shouted. "You're a virgin? And—oh! Shit, Denise, you let me keep talking about that! Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, I forgot I never talk about that stuff with you!" "I didn't mind," I said in a small voice, now feeling like a child must when she was caught doing something she shouldn't have. I was still looking at my fingernails. "You didn't... mind," she repeated. I shrugged. When I glanced up at her, a different look was on her face, and I felt my stomach lurch and warm up as butterflies flapped around inside me. "Dens... do you mind if I kiss you right now?" she whispered. I felt my cheeks burn like they were neon signs saying TAKE ME. "No," I whispered back. She planted both her hands on my thighs and leaned forward. Her lips didn't touch mine at first; she let them hover, lightly breathing against my face. I could smell the rum on her breath. I wanted to lean in and meet her, but at the same time I wanted to stay out and let her do the leading. It felt so exciting standing on the edge, not plunging in yet. Her tongue slipped into my mouth before her lips touched me. Her kiss was so soft, barely there, and it ignited me. But I didn't know what I was doing, I didn't know how to react to her touch. So at first I stayed relatively still, opening my mouth a little further so she could massage my tongue, then I dared massaging hers back. She moaned and I felt an instant rush to my crotch. Her hands squeezed my thighs a little tighter, and she suddenly leaned heavily into me, pushing me back. I unfolded my legs as she climbed on top of me. A leg slid expertly in between mine, and she applied just the right amount of pressure on my crotch. The tingling that had been there before bloomed; I moaned softly into her mouth as I ground against her leg. I'd done things by myself before, but it had never felt like this. It was a raw desire that I wanted more of, needed more of, and it was an ache that made me feel like I had no inhibitions holding me back. I was willing to go anywhere for that ache. So as she let me hump her thigh, our kiss grew deeper, more passionate, and I let my hands roam up her sides. God, what was I doing? Sober Denise wouldn't do this. But I forgot about Sober Denise once my hands ran over her breasts. She broke the kiss with a gasp, wrapping her other leg around mine for more leverage. I rubbed the edge of my thumb over her nipple, which was so hard I could feel it plain as day through her clothes. With a desperate sigh, she took my mouth in a deeper kiss yet, and although she seemed frenzied, she slowly slid her hand under the hem of my T-shirt and lightly traced her fingers over my chest. I was moaning again, bucking harder into her as she traced circles around my nipple. While we tugged and squeezed, I realized her bra was loose-fitting, and I slipped my hand under it to grasp her. Her breath tumbled out of her. She squeezed me gently and grabbed my hip. I mimicked her actions, grabbing hold of her ass, squeezing it as I pressed myself harder against her. She was practically whimpering; the louder she became, the more she squirmed against me. Suddenly her cries took on a new pitch, then she was rubbing against me desperately. She buried her face in my neck and cried out. She slowed quickly. Minutes passed before she lifted her head and looked at me. I was worried at first what she was thinking, hiding her face like that. If I weren't as drunk as I was, I might have been convinced that she was disgusted with what we'd just done. "Do you want to go upstairs?" she asked me, her voice thick and throaty. With relief, I nodded, not able to find the words at first. "Yeah." She climbed off me and helped me up. Then she turned off the television (which we hadn't been paying attention to for the last fifteen minutes) and she quietly led the way upstairs. My head wasn't just light from the alcohol anymore. That had been the single most thrilling experience of my life. I didn't know sex was supposed to feel like that—I also didn't know Rachel could make me feel like that. I actually stared at her firm, round backside as we climbed the stairs. I don't know where this new Denise had come from. We arrived in her room and she turned the light on. After she closed the door, we stood staring at each other. "What do we do now?" I asked like the bumbling idiot I was. In this situation, anyway. Rachel didn't reply with words; she reached up behind her and grabbed the zipper of her dress, slowly pulling it down. "I haven't been with another girl since our last year of high school," she said in a sultry voice, reaching up to pull the dress from her shoulders. It slid down her body and pooled at her feet. She had rather plain, functional underwear, but she made it look so good. "Take your clothes off," she said softly yet demanded firmly, unhooking her bra. If it were possible, my body heated up more. I slowly pulled my T-shirt over my head, letting it fall to the ground. I undid my belt and jeans, suddenly feeling like the man in the situation, so I tried to shimmy out of my clothes in a rather feminine way, throwing Rachel shy glances. As I reached up to unclasp my own bra, Rachel finally let hers drop. I all but gawked at her; she had amazing breasts. They were so firm and perky that they almost looked fake, but the way they swayed when she moved her arms said otherwise. I didn't have a bad chest, but I hesitated in removing my clothes as I stared at her flawless physique. "Dens, take it off," she whispered seductively as she slipped her panties past her hips. She had a bare mound, free of any hair. I stared at that too. I certainly didn't have a bush, but I wasn't completely hairless, either. "I want to see you," she said, stepping closer to me. In a moment of sudden and unfounded bravery, I let my bra fall away. I found her staring at my chest as lovingly as I had stared at hers; my bust was a bit bigger, and while not as perfectly shaped, still firm. As I slid my panties off my hips, she stepped up to me and reached behind my head for my ponytail. She pulled it out of my hair and let my long, auburn locks fall. We stared at each other for a while longer before she laced her fingers in my hair and kissed me again. My hands immediately went to her firm ass. I grabbed each cheek, pulling them apart, squeezing them, just glancing the inside. She pressed herself against me, and I could feel the wet against my thigh. I sighed in ecstasy, trying to pull myself closer to her. Her hands slid down from my hair to my tits, and I shuddered as she lightly pinched my nipples, just as she had told me she'd done to Tammy. I could have stayed there for hours like that. But eventually she pushed me back and I slowly complied, following her direction. We broke our kiss as she lowered me down, then encouraged me to slide back. I watched her with uncertainty, thinking we would lie on one another again. But then she climbed only half way and started to kiss my bare navel, sending little shocks through my stomach, before travelling downward. "What are you doing?" I asked quietly. Through kisses she said, "I can't believe you have never experienced something as amazing as this." I watched her with a growing sense of anticipation in my gut. She stuck her ass in the air and brushed her tits against my stomach and crotch, sliding all the way down until she was staring at my pussy. She brought her mouth close... and stopped within millimetres, breathing on it, daring to touch it with her lips and her tongue. My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it. She moved her mouth all over the invisible barrier on my cunt, and I was aching for her to stop teasing, to give in and kiss it. "Please," I moaned, rocking back and forth. She was careful with my movements and made sure she didn't touch me when I slid forward. She smiled up at me from between my legs—all I could see were her mischievous eyes over top my mound—before she closed them and slid her tongue over my lips. The bed creaked as I sank back down into it. I closed my eyes, focusing only on the sensation she created; her tongue was like a small, wet pearl that had a mind of its own. She moved along my curves and folds as if she had been there before, as if she knew my body like her own. She first ran her tongue in the crevasses, making me whimper in delight, then teased my opening by drawing circles around it. "Do it," I whispered, slowly moving with her mouth. I hoped and begged and whimpered some more, but I felt her tongue move away from my opening. She trailed up my lips again, and I felt a strange sensation as she used a hand to part them. Then she brought her mouth down onto my clit. I made a strangled noise in my throat. She swirled her tongue around my nub, sucking and flicking. I was so caught up in her movements that I didn't feel her other hand trail up the inside of my thigh until she brushed my opening with her fingertips. I begged. I didn't know what it was to beg before this. I never truly wanted before this. She did the same thing with her finger that she had done with her tongue—draw light circles around and around, coming close but not meeting her mark. I was grinding my teeth in anticipation now. I looked up to see her rolling her hips, her rear end still stuck up in the air, as her expert lips worked at my clit, which burned just the right way. When her finger finally fell into place at my opening, my breath hitched. Then she slid inside me. I tightened my grip around her. She moaned into me as she gently slid her finger back and forth. "You're so tight," she said against my lips. I gasped and shuddered at the feel. I started to cry out and I tried to muffle myself. I hadn't reached the point where I knew I would come, but the tension was already more intense than it was earlier on the couch. Shock waves were already soaring up through my chest and down my limbs, and I found it hard to keep holding myself up any longer. My legs, which had been perched up around her head, fell to the sides like a blossoming flower, my muscles shaking too much to hold them up. When the build started to climb, I snapped my eyes open. "Don't stop." She quickened her pace by just a bit, sliding in and out of me, softly massaging my upper wall. With her tongue she massaged more and more of my upper mound, growing more intense with her movements. As I climbed higher, the world got smaller and smaller, and my entire body tightened up like a spring. I arched my back and tried to keep myself from thrusting into her face, but my hips bucked ever so slightly as I came. I felt my juices gush past her finger and run along my thighs. I continuously moved against her stationary finger as my walls clenched down on her again and again, sending waves of warmth and electricity through me. I lost track of time as I let my body float in the afterglow, and I opened my eyes to see Rachel hovering over me. I don't know how long she had been there, and I suddenly felt guilty for making her wait. "Dens," she whispered, tracing a finger down between my breasts. "I have a favour to ask of you." "Okay," I said, feeling heat rise in my chest once again. My capacity for arousal seemed unlimited tonight. "I... I've never asked anyone to do this, so it's a bit embarrassing...." "I've never done this before, so I probably feel a bit more vulnerable than you," I said, trying my hand at comfort. She bit her lip and flickered her eyes from me to my breasts, still tracing a finger around them. "Would you wear a strap-on for me?" At first the message didn't register—I had to let the fog clear before I could remember the English language. "You mean... to screw you." "Yeah," she whispered, looking me in the eye sheepishly. I felt another wave of indescribable lust come over me, seeing the experienced woman who'd just introduced me to a world of wonders look bashful and timid, like the ball was in my court or something. I nodded. "Yeah, I would." She slowly climbed off of me, no reassuring smile—she was still nervous, as if I didn't fully understand the repercussions of her request. She knelt down by her bed and pulled out a box from underneath, opening it up and extracting the toy. The dildo was plain and the strap was nonthreatening. I didn't feel like I was breaching my comfort zone when I considered putting it on. I looked up at her shyly, trying to assure her that this was okay. "Would you help me?" I asked, trying to restore her sense of control and dignity. She nodded, a ghost of a smile on her lips. I sat up and stood on my knees as she unfastened the thong and slipped it over my hips. As she clasped it on, she kissed my bellybutton, my inner thighs, the top of my mound. I was shaking again. Then she slid her finger over my labia, and I moaned at the feeling. She kept rubbing and rubbing until she found a catch and pulled on it. The base of the dildo, poised right over my clit, began vibrating. "Oh," I muttered, closing my legs together against the sudden sensation. Rachel looked up at me with big, submissive eyes. Suddenly I was the one in control, or at least that was what she was making this out to be. "How do you want me?" she asked. I didn't know many positions—I had never had sex before. I just knew the basic ones. Since I knew I'd sound like a dummy if I spoke, I showed her what I wanted by climbing over her, forcing her to lie back underneath me. It was when her legs wrapped around my hips that a streak of nervousness ran through me. "How do I do this?" I asked shyly, trying not to ruin the moment for her. "Use the head to tease me first," she said, "like I did you. Spread my juice all over it, then go slow." "Okay." I grabbed the head of the strap-on, which was vibrating, and slowly guided it down to her opening. I missed by a long shot, first touching her somewhere between her clit and her vagina. She gasped and moaned deeply, moving against the toy. It pressed back up against me and I moaned in return, revelling in the feeling. Slowly drawing circles, I spiralled down from the midway point to her opening, tracing circles like she told me to. She was sighing and rocking her hips excessively now, her eyes closed and her lips parted. After I started to feel that I was teasing myself, I made sure the head was sufficiently lubed, enjoying the silky feeling between my fingers, before I slowly eased into her like she had told me to do. "Oh, God," she moaned, spreading her legs wider and slowly moving against the dildo. I couldn't feel the inside of her, but I could feel how tight she was through extension. I moved slowly, for as wet as she was, her grip on the toy made it harder to move. I pulled back slowly then eased in again, making her arch her back and roll her head to the side. I leaned my body down on top of her, supporting my weight with one hand while using the other to play with her breast. She turned to meet me and we locked lips again. My taste was fresh on her mouth, and while at first it tasted foreign, I eagerly ran my mouth over hers to lap it up. I was no longer just intoxicated with alcohol; I was open to anything sexual at that point. The floodgates had been opened wide, and anything and everything would go. I started to slide in and out of her faster, but my movements were clumsy and mismatched. I broke the kiss and looked down at her questioningly. "How do I...?" "Don't go back and forth," she suggested, sliding her hands over my ass and guiding it. "Think of it as a circular mo—oh...." I started to roll against her, and I gasped as the sensation from the vibrator intensified. I started humping her harder and quicker, going along with the sensations I desired, the vibrations I needed. She slid her hands between my cheeks, and a pleasant shock went through my tailbone when she glanced my hole. I bucked against her and moaned, grabbing her leg with my free hand and hoisting it close. She used the motion to roll me over, and before I knew it, she was on top of me. She grabbed both my breasts and perched herself on them. Her hair had fallen out of its wrap, and was now a tousled bob around her sweaty, flushed face. I reached for her thighs and squeezed as I watched her ride me. It was almost as if I could feel the sensations of her wrapped around my imaginary member. A wave of ecstasy washed over me as I thrust back; I was doing something "bad" I would never normally do, something foreign—something new. She suddenly stopped and slipped off the strap-on, and a brief moment of disappointment struck me when the vibrations dulled. "I want you to take me from behind," she said, getting down on her hands and turning around, presenting her ass to me. I had never seen a woman from this angle before. The way her puffed, aroused lips gleamed from between her legs, and how her cheeks spread just so I could see both openings.... For a moment I could have sworn I had recognized myself as a lesbian. I got on my knees and shuffled closer to her, taking her ass in my hands. She rolled her hips in anticipation, moaning softly at the contact. I lowered her a bit more so I could more easily guide the dildo into her opening before I slipped right in. There was something more erotic about barely moving at all. It was the soft whimpers and moans that she made as I slowly moved around inside her that turned me on. Her and I both wanted more, but the ache—always the ache—of holding back was so much more enticing. "Hold my head down," she growled, and I complied. I was gentle yet forceful as I pushed her head down on the mattress, and she yelled out in pleasure: the angle must have been more favorable. I made sure I wasn't hurting her or smothering her while at the same time ensuring there was enough pressure there to be erotic. "Fuck me," she muttered. I thought I must not have heard her right. Then she commanded it. "Fuck me, Dens." As I made to comply, I found focusing on myself made her moan louder. She muffled herself against the blanket; the thought that I was the cause made me feel... sexy. I was making Rachel moan. Rachel who had years of experience in her arsenal. I could actually feel the dildo bend when she came. I stood still and let her move against the strap-on as she pleased, grinding and sliding across it. I reached between my legs from behind and searched for the switch she had flicked on and turned the vibrations off. Then I pulled out of her slowly, both of us sighing contently as the toy fell out of her. I started to take the contraption off as she fell to her side, looking up at me. Then she smiled. "I just want you to know... I didn't do this just 'cause I'm drunk." With as much honesty as I could muster, I muttered, "Me neither." "I'm glad," she said, smiling warmly, "although I don't think either of us are the lesbian types." "No, I don't think so," I replied. "I just... feel comfortable with you." "Yeah," she agreed, wiping her brow as I put the strap-on in the box and placed it on the floor. I collapsed next to her, feeling relieved in more ways than one. It had crossed my mind more than once what would happen when we were both spent. "Hey... want to take a shower with me?" I nodded. "I think I need one." She led me into the neighboring bathroom and turned the shower on. She drew the curtain and turned back to me, smiling, but looking a little hesitant. "What?" I asked. "I just want to make sure we're on the same page..." she said, holding her hands behind her back and thrusting her perfect breasts out. "I'm not gay, but I do like sex with girls from time to time. And you're a good friend, Dens—I don't want to lose a friendship with you. But if you're okay with it... from time to time...." "I think so. From time to time." "You don't think this'll make things awkward when we sober up?" she asked. "I think I've been kind of sober for a while now," I said. We both giggled. When she deemed the water warm enough, we both stepped in. Naive me thought we were there to clean ourselves, but as soon as I entered behind her, she turned to me and wrapped her arms around my neck, leaning in to kiss me tenderly. We did some light petting in the shower, interspersed with periods of actually cleaning ourselves. We ran our hands over one another, exploring, caressing, fondling. Our shower must have lasted about forty minutes. When we got out, she grabbed me a towel and we dried each other off, throwing sly smiles at one another occasionally. "So... I got a little carried away, huh?" she asked timidly. I shrugged and smiled warmly, trying to assure her it wasn't a bad thing. "Well... I enjoyed myself." "Would you... want to keep doing stuff? Tonight, I mean?" She deliberately looked into the mirror and started to comb her fingers through her hair. "Well, we've got all night to ourselves," I said, shrugging with a mischievous smile. I liked this new Denise—she had confidence and spunk. Rachel looked back at me through the mirror and smiled. Then the doorbell rang. Both of us turned, staring at the bathroom wall as if we could see the front door through it. My mind blanked for a second. I had completely forgotten that Rachel was initially throwing a party. She threw on her terrycloth robe and handed me a spare from her room, then slowly descended the stairs, watching the front door cautiously. I kept my eyes glued to the door, trying to see who the unexpected guest was through the stained glass windows. Rachel's hand hovered over the handle, and she looked back at me. "Open it," I mouthed, pulling the robe tighter around myself. Rachel hesitated, and while still looking up at me from over her shoulder, opened the door. A boy I had never met before was standing on the welcome mat. He had shaggy, sandy blonde hair, with a long face that wasn't unpleasant to look at. He was dressed simply in a dark green windbreaker, faded jeans, and simple running shoes. Given that it was the dead of winter, however, he looked grossly under-dressed but couldn't be bothered to wear proper clohting. His eyes went wide at the sight of Rachel standing there in a robe, and when he glanced me up on the staircase, he made a double take and froze. "Aaron," Rachel said breathlessly. "Hi." "Uh... hi," he replied, still looking in my direction. I could feel a flush coming to my cheeks and I looked away; it felt like he was undressing me—or this situation—with his eyes, and I was unsure if I was uncomfortable with it or not. He cleared his throat and continued. "Um, I came for the, um... the party. Was it cancelled?" "Um... no, not exactly." Rachel's voice was a few octaves higher than usual. "Just... no one showed up but Denise. And I guess you, now." "Oh." He looked up at me again and I gave him shy eyes. "I guess I should... go, then." "No," Rachel said hastily. All of us paused, and countless thoughts and insinuations went through my head. "No, would you... stay, maybe? At least for a bit?" There was a palpable pause before he said, "Okay." Aaron stepped into the house, slipped off his shoes, and shrugged off his jacket, all while avoiding looking at either me or Rachel. I could tell he had already imagined about a dozen or so explanations and scenarios for why we both had wet hair and robes on. I made eye contact with Rachel as he hung up his jacket, and we shared an expression somewhere between "What do you think?" and "This might be a very bad idea." Aaron shoved his hands into his pockets. He was wearing a black T-shirt that had the little Reddit man on the front. "So...." "So," Rachel repeated. "Um... can I get you something to drink, maybe?" "Yeah, sure," he said, nodding enthusiastically. "What'll you have?" "Something hard," he said. "Please." "'Kay," she replied softly, glancing at me before hurrying into the kitchen. I sat down on the stairs and hugged my arms, paranoid that at any moment my robe would fly open and expose me. All the new found boldness and chutzpah I had only minutes before had evaporated; someone else had walked in and popped the bubble. I was back in reality, and back to square one. He cleared his throat and I jumped. "So," he began, rocking forward on his heels. "Friend of Rachel's, or...." "Yes," I blurted after a long pause. I was so nerve-racked that it hadn't registered he was talking to me. "Since junior high." "Oh." He nodded and looked around the foyer, as if he would find a conversation filler somewhere in the room. "How about you?" I asked. "She used to date my friend Devin back in first year. We took a lot of classes together, so... she stayed friends with me. Devin thought I was—well, Devin's still a bit jealous." I laughed. "So you're in Business, then?" "That's my minor. I'm in Computer Engineering, actually." Just as I was starting to warm up—and as it seemed Aaron was becoming more comfortable—Rachel walked into the room and we were both reminded the underlying awkwardness of our situation. She handed him a cup, and he took it from her and downed it in five seconds flat. When he resurfaced, he grimaced, smacked his lips, and handed the cup back to her. "Thanks," he said. "Would you like another one?" She asked it like he really ought to pace himself instead. "That might be a good idea, thanks," he said with a nod. As Rachel walked back into the kitchen, a perplexed look on her face, I twiddled my thumbs and stared into my lap. Silence was restored. When I took in a deep breath to start a new conversation, he cut in. "Want to go sit on the couch, or—?" "Yeah, okay." Still holding the robe tightly around my chest, I followed him into Rachel's living room. We sat down on the same couch and stared at the blank television screen. "So... what have you and Rachel been up to?" he asked. Finally the gigantic elephant in the room was addressed. My voice box shot right down through my stomach and all I managed was a sort of gurgle. He gave me a queer look and I cleared my throat. "Chatting, doing each other's makeup. Just girl stuff, you know." "Ah." He probably read right through that lie like it was made of cheap tissue paper. Rachel returned with a second drink for Aaron. This time he did not chug the entire thing, but took a modest sip and held it between his knees. Rachel then offered me a shot; I was going to refuse when she gave me a look that said it'd be best if I just inhaled it, so I did. It burned all the way down, and I spluttered while she sank hers back like a pro. Rachel took a seat by the couch and we all fell silent once again. Aaron sipped at his drink and politely observed the room; I could practically see the cogs working behind his eyes, trying to think of something to say. "So, Aaron," Rachel began, "are you seeing anybody?" He nearly choked mid-sip and looked around at her almost wildly. "No, no, nobody. Not now." "Oh," she said, a coy smile curling her lips. After about another minute of silence, Aaron said: "What do you guys want to do?" "Get rip-roaring," Rachel said with an air of carefree girl. Eventually Rachel served up a pitcher of grog. Four drinks later, I could feel the drunk rush aching my thighs and burning my cheeks again. I still hadn't flushed out the eight or so shots I had taken earlier with Rachel, so getting intoxicated a second time was easy. We had turned on the television for background noise, just so it wasn't so awkwardly quiet. Us girls were still in bathrobes, and I started to wonder whether or not that made Aaron uncomfortable or if it was exciting him and he was trying not to think about it too much. As Rachel poured herself another drink, she sat down next to Aaron rather than her own seat. He shuffled over to make room for her, and she nonchalantly leaned in to his shoulder, as if this was normal order of business and no one should think twice about it. Aaron most obviously thought about it more than twice; his body visibly stiffened and he watched Rachel from the corner of his eye. I did too. We all stopped paying attention to the TV, I'm sure; I was concentrating on what Rachel was doing, as was Aaron, and Rachel was slowly sneaking her hand across his thigh. His nostrils flared and his grip on his cup tightened. "What's the hottest thing you've ever done, Aaron?" Rachel asked, her fingers creeping higher up his leg. "Sorry?" he asked, his voice strained. Rachel pried her eyes off the television, turning her head towards him. She was only inches from his face. I was watching shamelessly now. "Tell me about the best erotic moment of your life," she reiterated. "We were sharing stories earlier; it's only fair you share one too." Aaron didn't say anything. He swallowed, watching Rachel's hand slide to his inner thigh. He shifted on the couch, appearing torn between wanting to pull away and let Rachel do what she wanted. "Want to hear mine?" she said softly, her lips now brushing up against his jaw. "Denise and I were on this couch a couple of hours ago, sliding on top of each other, getting off.... I was riding her hard, and I liked it." I stayed frozen on my end of the couch, watching as Rachel slid her hand right between his legs. His eyes fluttered closed and he worked his jaw. A muscle stuck out of his neck. I felt my pulse quicken. After rubbing his pants exuberantly, Rachel slid off the couch and got on her knees in front of him. Although sufficiently sauced, she still was able to unbuckle Aaron's jeans with deft fingers. As she unzipped his fly, he lifted himself off the couch slightly and helped her slide down his pants, shooting the most demure of glances in my direction before apparently opting to pretend I wasn't there. I had never seen a penis before. In fact, I had done next to nothing with a guy before, so once I saw his parts exposed from the corner of my eye, I resolutely avoided glancing down right away. I was nervous, but more than that, I was intrigued, excited, and I wanted to appreciate what I saw to the full extent. So as Rachel reached forward to grasp his manhood, I glanced down. At first I thought it was a bit odd looking, but once I started imagining what that body part was meant to do, it became a whole lot more enticing to look at. Though when I considered my knowledge of my own reproductive parts and the sight of his member, the numbers didn't seem to add up. That looked much too large to fit inside a girl. My thoughts were banished once Rachel slid forward and lowered her mouth onto his head. He gasped and squirmed ever so lightly, squeezing his cup with one hand while clutching at the couch cushion with the other. He tilted his head back and his eyes rolled, and for a moment I thought he was going to pass out before I recognized it as immense pleasure. Rachel started to move up and down, taking most of him into her mouth while massaging his thigh with one hand and stroking other parts of him with the other. I was suddenly aware of an ache between my own legs, and my hand automatically drifted there as I watched. I rocked against myself, looking between the look on Aaron's face and the movements Rachel was making, wondering what I should do next, or if I should stay out of it. Then Aaron lolled his head to the side and caught me touching myself. I stopped and had the immediate impulse to pull away, but I didn't. Instead I reached up timidly and pulled my robe apart at my chest, exposing my breasts. Just him looking at me tingled my skin, and I liked the feel of it. Rachel started to moan and rock her body along with her movements—seeing her turned on drove me further. I pressed my hand harder against myself; as if he could feel what I was feeling, Aaron let out a strangled moan. I brushed aside the flaps and spread my legs, slowly sliding my finger in between my lips. I sighed and laid my head back on the couch, watching Rachel move on Aaron. He stared at me, his eyes flicking between my hand, my chest, and my face. He then let go of the cushion, reaching out to touch me. When his fingers brushed against my nipple, I gasped, a rush flooding from my chest to my lower stomach, simmering in my thighs. When he cupped me and started to massage my breast in his hand, I felt myself topple over the edge—it was rushed and it was weak, but I quickly slipped a finger inside myself to feel myself contract all the same. Aaron's hand tightened on me; I saw him lift up off the couch briefly, his ass cheeks clenching as he appeared to come into Rachel's mouth. She took in as much of his dick as she could, moaning as she slowed her pace. She then pulled back, swallowing before his cock left her lips. She wiped her mouth off with the back of her hand and smiled at him. He looked spent. "Still hard," she said in a sultry voice. He let go of me and looked down at Rachel. There was a pink flush that had spotted his neck and cheeks, and his face was puffy with undeniable heat. I looked down at his erection and found that he was indeed still as rock hard as he was before Rachel went down on him. Weren't they supposed to go soft after coming? "I don't mean to make you uncomfortable," Rachel said softly, sliding forward and brushing her boobs against his hard-on, "but I want you to fuck me and my friend as much as possible tonight." A jolt ran through my belly along with a dozen or so thoughts, going along the lines of: Why didn't she ask me? I've never had sex (with a man) before, how does she know I'm ready? and Oh, God, yes, please. "Oh," was all he had to say. Rachel looked to me and her eyes hungrily racked my body. My hand was still cupped around my vulva. She smiled and looked into my eyes. "Here we are again," she said. Aaron slowly made to pull up his pants, but Rachel grabbed hold of his wrists. "Come upstairs," she said, getting to her feet and pulling Aaron to his. I let go of myself and stood up, not bothering to cover my body, and looked at Aaron shyly in the eyes. He gave me a soft, urgent look before glancing at the rest of me. I ducked my head and led the way up to Rachel's room. Part of me was jealous knowing that any guy would want to have Rachel before me, but I didn't care that he would undeniably want to fuck Rachel, or that he would want to have sex with me only because of the circumstances. The way he looked at me made me feel like I was just as gorgeous as Rachel was. And the thought of him reaching out and touching me.... I could still feel his hand on me, and I wanted him to touch me again. Badly. When the three of us were in the bedroom, Rachel closed the door and let her robe fall off her shoulders. Aaron stared at her with a tight set jaw, his fists clenched at his sides. Rachel let him admire her before nodding her head at me to do the same. My eyes flicked between her and Aaron before I let it pool around my feet. Aaron slowly turned and stared at me as well. I kept my eyes averted, for I was still shy enough to feel a bit self conscious in the situation, but his eyes were on me the entire time as Rachel approached him. It was only when she had his pants down around his ankles that he looked her way. Slowly she eased his T-shirt over his head; I studied the rest of his body. Although he was skinny, he was surprisingly muscular, and I found myself chewing at my lip as I imagined running my hands over him. Rachel pushed his erection in between her legs and slid close, tilting her head up and capturing his lips in a kiss. I stood and watched, imagining myself doing the same thing, and found my hand gravitating in between my own legs again. Rachel started to slide back and forth along his length; he reached down to clutch her hips, as if the sensation were too intense and he needed to keep her at bay. But his entire body seemed to slacken as Rachel ground against him more fervently. Eventually standing and fondling myself was not enough; I needed to feel what I felt when Rachel was on top of me, grinding her thigh against my centre. I turned and knelt by the corner of her bed, angling myself so I could still watch the confrontation. The pressure against me was relieving, and I sighed as I started to rock against the mattress, clutching at the sheets, following along with Rachel's rhythm. Rachel started to move faster along him, then caught sight of me humping her bed. Her eyes flashed and her lips parted; she hooked one leg around Aaron's hip and stood on her tiptoes with the other, reaching in between her legs and pushing him in her, eyes still on me. It looked as if he nearly lost his balance; his knees wobbled a bit and his upper body swayed, but Rachel locked her arms around his shoulders to steady him. With a bit of effort, he found and grasped her ass firmly as he started to work inside her. I watched the spot where his dick disappeared and started to fantasize about how I had done that to her, how she had moaned... and then I started to imagine what it would be like to have him sliding inside me, whether I was ready or not. I bit my lip and pumped myself harder against the corner, putting more of my weight down on my clit and hooking my hands under the mattress for more leverage. At some point Aaron had decided the angle wasn't working for him; he picked up Rachel from her rear and lowered her across the mattress. He held her hips up and thrust into her steadily, not fast and hard yet not slow and sweet. Rachel's moans were bordering on whimpers; his breaths were short and shallow. I had my eyes trained on Rachel's face, lapping up the absolute ecstasy and imaging that for myself. But when I looked up, I found Aaron staring at me. I arched up and opened my mouth in a silent cry, rotating myself in circles along the edge. Rachel and Aaron became more intense. Finally he came, making a choking noise and collapsing on top of her. I watched as they slid over one another; he was kissing her deeply and rubbing her breasts while she ran her hands over his ass, his back, his shoulders. When he pulled out, I could see her juices glistening on his stomach, but most impressively of all, I could see he was still hard. Rachel's laugh was silk, and she admired Aaron as he hovered over her, wiping his forehead with his wrist. She then tilted her head up towards me and said: "Your turn." "Oh," I mumbled, looking fearfully up at Aaron. As much as I wanted to feel him inside me, the sudden idea of it happening now was terrifying. "I'm not ready yet," I said quietly to her. "Hm?" "Later," I said louder, flicking my eyes up at Aaron's face. His expression didn't change much—which was full of post-sex high—but I could see something fall in his eyes, which seemed to look like he took it personally. I did not want to admit I was a virgin—I mean, how many virgins go on sexual sprees like this? At the same time I didn't want him to believe I was rejecting him. Because I most certainly wanted the opposite. "Just in a bit. I want to watch more," I finished, hoping it was enough. Rachel smiled at me knowingly. "At least come and join us on the bed," she said, rolling onto her hands and knees. I climbed up and knelt on my knees in front of Rachel. With one more pretty smile, she gently shoved me over onto my back and climbed on top of me. As my stomach started to stir again, she leaned forward and kissed me hard, shoving her tongue into my mouth. I could taste Aaron on her; a sudden rush overcame me and I took in a deep breath, sighing against her lips as she continued to explore my mouth forcefully. I ran my hands up her thighs, her hips, her sides... then boldly massaged her tits, eliciting a moan and sigh from her. I felt Aaron's weight on the bed—we broke our kiss and watched him sidle up behind Rachel. He grabbed her hips and paused. "This okay?" he asked. When she nodded, he slowly entered her. Her jaw dropped. As he slowly slid in and out, Rachel turned on me and continued our kiss, gently fondling my breast as I continued to rub hers. Aaron reached forward and gently scratched Rachel's back from the base of her neck all the way down to her tailbone, making her gasp and throw her head back. Her hand immediately trailed from my chest to between my legs; she started to gently trace my lips and draw circles around my clit. I arched into her hand, encouraging her to slide her finger inside of me. With each thrust Aaron made on her, her finger did the same in me. A loud moan escaped me involuntarily. Aaron let out a strangled sigh and started to pound against Rachel, and by extension, in me. I let go of her breasts to play with her down below. One of my fingers went too far, and I could feel Aaron's cock sliding in and out of her. Rachel toppled on top of me as Aaron put his weight on her, and I squeezed Rachel's finger so hard it was nearly forced out. She slid it deep inside me in response, right to the knuckle, and she laid against me as she whimpered in pleasure. Aaron thrust into her a few more times, finishing off his own climax, gasping with each movement. As Rachel came down from her high, she caught my lips in another passionate kiss. We had left an incredible mess on the sheets, and each of us was covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Aaron finally pulled off of Rachel, allowing her to collapse on the other side of the bed. It was just big enough that the three of us could lie comfortably side by side; Aaron was sandwiched between us. Rachel propped herself up on her elbow and looked over us. She giggled lightly. "And finally, he goes down," she said, sliding her hand up Aaron's thigh, right next to his soft member. Aaron looked a little shy about this, and seemed to be making up an excuse when Rachel said: "Aaron, you have the best cock I've ever had the pleasure of playing with." He gave an unsure smile, and she laughed sweetly, leaning down to kiss him lightly on the lips. Even after having sex with her, Aaron still seemed a little unsure of himself. "I should go for the quiet type more often," she added, tracing her fingers across his glistening chest. "You guys are talented." With this I let out a giggle, in which set off a chain reaction of giggles between me and Rachel. Aaron simply grinned shyly and chuckled once in a while. When the laughter died down, Rachel lowered herself into the crook of his arm, and he hesitantly wrapped his arm around her. With her head on his chest, she looked right at me and smiled. I wished it was me in the crook of his arm. "You know," she said, still looking at me, "I hope you're not completely tuckered out. You still have to show another girl a good time." I froze up again, but the apprehension wasn't as strong as it was the first time. I avoided looking up at him and remained silent. Rachel arched her eyebrows at me and mouthed: "It's good!" "Might need a break," he mumbled. "Well, we're not going anywhere, right?" she said to me. I simply smiled back. Rachel slid her leg over Aaron's and gently pressed herself against him, nuzzling her face into his neck and placing feathery kisses along his skin. He closed his eyes and his breathing deepened. After watching her do this for several minutes, a wave of courage overcame me, and I decided I should be doing the same. So I rolled onto my side and slid closer. Aaron's eyes shot open and he regarded me with an expression I couldn't read; I was about to back away when he lifted his other arm, allowing me to move in close. When I did, he wrapped his arm around my shoulders too, and a flood of gratitude, excitement, and arousal came over me. I mimicked Rachel and wrapped my leg around his, then pressed myself against his upper thigh. Rachel caught my eye as she was placing kisses over his chest and smiled slyly at me. After a few seconds of simply enjoying the sensations, I ground myself against his leg, placing my hand on his stomach for better motion. Aaron's cock was still soft, but I could see it starting to thicken and grow. I watched it for a few minutes, gathering my courage, then slowly let my hand wander down his navel.... He took in a sharp breath as I brushed my fingers over him. I let my hand hover, occasionally tracing a fingertip gingerly over his skin, which made his chest rise and fall more heavily. He then gently pulled away from us and held himself above me. My stomach was bursting and twisting, but where I thought he was going to lower his weight onto me and just take me right there, he slowly leaned down to kiss my chest, then made his way lower across my body. My heart was pounding so hard I thought it would stop. He held himself up with one hand while gently caressing me with the other. With a knee he spread my legs and lay down between them, hooking both his arms under my legs and hugging my hips. My clit felt like it was on fire as he teased me, lightly blowing on my skin. The gentle touch was almost unbearable, and as pressure began to mount, he slowly lowered his mouth onto my lips and kissed me firmly. I gasped and immediately took in fistfuls of the sheets. My muscles tensed everywhere—I had to fight from involuntarily shoving my crotch into his face. His hands slid up and down my sides, from under my rib cage to the near bottom of my ass, and my skin tingled with electricity in his wake. I felt Rachel's hands slide across my chest, and as she traced her finger around one nipple, I turned to place light kisses on her face. I really didn't think I could feel more incredible, but then Aaron spread my legs wider. I whimpered on Rachel's mouth and she moaned back, pinching my nipple harder. I could feel her other hand working in between her legs. Aaron stopped and lifted his head up. There was a few moments hesitation before he sat up and slid closer to me. I opened my eyes and looked to Rachel, who had her own excited smile on her face. "Do you have condoms?" I asked, barely keeping my voice from shaking. Without a word she slipped into her bedside drawer and extracted one for Aaron. She broke open the package and shuffled closer and slowly rolled the condom over him. He closed his eyes, nostrils flared, as she gently stroked it on. After that she slipped away, and suddenly I was on my own. A little part of me wanted this moment to be private, but after everything that had happened this evening, I was almost grateful that she was there. Without supports, I was sure I would falter. Aaron was waiting for me to give him some sort of confirmation. I swallowed, nodded, then lay back, arching my hips to encourage him. He looked at my lips longingly, but appeared to think better of it. I was going to close the distance when I felt his head press up against me. I took in a sharp bout of breath and he stopped, lacing his arms under mine. "You ready?" he asked softly. He had already figured out I was a virgin, but I was glad that he didn't look disappointed or turned off by this fact. I nodded, looking at his lips again, then he slowly pushed himself inside. I slowly took in a breath as he slid himself to the hilt. I was expecting pain but felt none. Hours of foreplay would do it, I suppose. It rather felt as if he was simply taking up too much space, but I loved the feel. I closed my eyes and held my breath, grasping his hips and lightly squirming underneath him. He held still. I couldn't wait for him to move any more; I slowly rocked against him, and the effect had him bury his face into my neck, gasping and shuddering. When he slowly started to move against me, I met his pace with the same circular movements I'd used with Rachel. Fingernails dug into my shoulders; I lost my breath. He had a firm pace going, which wasn't slow but was agonizingly teasing. I writhed against him, trying to get him to simply fuck me, but he never quickened. It left me hungry, harried, sitting on the cusp of losing it all. It occurred to me that he was prolonging the moment, making it last. Significant. When I opened my eyes, his face was inches from mine, and I no longer cared if he simply wanted to avoid kissing me for personal reasons—his cock was inside me, after all. I lifted my head and gently slid my lips against his, gasping against his skin. His mouth went slack and he moved a little harder, a little faster, before he plunged his tongue in my mouth and kissed me deeply. I arched my back and pressed my body against his, revelling in the feel of his mouth on mine. It was far better than Rachel's kiss—not because she was a bad kisser, but because I was finding myself undeniably enthralled with this man named Aaron that I barely knew. Suddenly he broke the kiss, buried himself in my neck again, and lost all reserve, pounding into me faster and harder than before. His breath came out in a giant whoosh; his strokes slowed and his body shook. My nails were digging into his back, which was so slick with sweat it was nearly dripping. The cool, salty flavour spread on my tongue; I spread my lips across his shoulder, craving more of it. There was an ache inside me from simply having too much. I was sure that if I unwrapped myself from him, I would fall apart. My thighs were burning and my arms were shaking. Finally he turned my head away from his shoulder and kissed me with a slow vigour. We continued on for I don't know how long, but it must have been a while, for Rachel cleared her throat and laughed, making us break off. "That was...." She licked her lips and traced her fingers over her thighs. "Mmm." Aaron collapsed on top of me again and gave a shaky sigh into my neck. ***

Rachel and I took to changing the sheets and cleaning up the general mess we had made in the house. It was nearly two in the morning by the time it was done. She had set Aaron up in the shower with towels, and once he was cleaned, Rachel and I joined him. Since the two of us had done everything intimate under the moon, showering did not seem all that inappropriate. This time we tiredly went about our business cleaning rather than experimenting, but the shower was not awkward; she washed my back and I washed hers. We shared smiles. We spoke once in a while. We were simply exhausted. She lent me a nightshirt and she dressed in her own pyjamas. When we came out of the shower, Aaron was in his boxers, drifting off on Rachel's bed. "Oh. Sorry." He got up and started to leave. "No, no, stay," Rachel said, touching his forearm gently. "Um... would you like to stay? My bed can fit three." Aaron looked like he was prone to turning down the offer, but the look on my face must have told him how much I wished he would stay. He nodded after catching a glance of me. "Yeah, okay." "Okay," she said with a smile. Then her eyes drifted close and she slowly crawled onto the bed, curling up on the edge by her alarm clock. I glanced at Aaron and motioned for him to lay down in the middle. He slowly crawled onto the bed and spread out on his back, resting his hands on his chest. I laid down next to him timidly, making sure I wasn't crowding him. "Comfy?" I asked. "Yeah," he whispered. "Good night," Rachel muttered sleepily, groping for the light switch on the nightstand. "'Night," Aaron and I muttered in unison. I leaned over and turned off the lamp by my side. When it was dark, the light from the television downstairs flooded the room. Rachel grumbled. "I'll get it," Aaron said, then crab-crawled off the bed and slipped through the door. Rachel mumbled something that sounded like "Thanks, Aaron," then sighed lightly before slipping asleep. I closed my eyes and passed out as well. I have no idea if I was asleep for minutes or hours; when I woke up, Aaron's hand was gently cupping my breast, kneading it softly. I looked over my shoulder slowly, to which he immediately withdrew his hand. In the dim light from the streetlamps outside, I could see his eyes looking guilty and pleading at the same time. A bit of a thrill rolled at the pit of my stomach, and I reached for his hand to place it back where it was. He continued to massage me while he slid in closer and pressed his erection against my backside. I held my breath to keep from moaning aloud, which was difficult—the fact that Rachel was still sleeping on the other side of him was so arousing, but to wake her up would shatter the moment I wanted to experience by myself this time. He leaned in close and lightly breathed into my ear, making my lips part with a silent sigh. I moved against him, rotating my hips and arching my chest into his hand, which was expertly teasing my nipple. When I turned my head a little further, he stretched out to kiss me, just barely controlling his moans. As our tongues lightly touched, he slowly traced his hand down my belly to the hem of my borrowed nightshirt, then slipped his hand underneath, his fingertips spreading fire across my skin. He finally cupped my bare breast again, causing me to lightly nip at his bottom lip. Gently squeezing me and tensing his jaw, he ground against me harder. Just when I thought it impossible for me to possibly have more sex, I started to feel the bittersweet ache in between my legs building, and I wanted him inside me. Our kiss grew deeper and more heated; if we kept up at that pace much longer, we would surely wake Rachel up from the racket we were making. Aaron panted quietly into my mouth as he let go of my breast, and his hand slowly travelled towards my cunt. Was this happening? Yes, those were his fingers sliding between my folds, my heart that was skipping beats and losing sight of reality. My chest hurt from trying not to make noise; I pressed against him harder and reached down to clutch his hand desperately. As he slid down and pushed his boxer shorts out of the way, I had a sudden rush of apprehension. I looked at him with uncertainty, minutely shaking my head. "I'll pull out," he whispered in a way that was part suggestion, part reassurance. Cool-headed Denise would not have agreed to this plan, but turned-on Denise couldn't be bothered to argue, especially when I felt the head of his cock pressing up against me. Somehow I was able to find trust in this stranger. I wanted to find more. So all I could do was nod. Take me. My mouth slackened and a silent cry caught in my throat as he carefully thrust inside of me, being careful not to make the bed move too much. It hurt more now than it had before—perhaps I was sore from the first encounter—but the pain felt good. I bucked against him gently and he grasped my hip to hold me still. I nearly whimpered out of aggravation. He slid his hand from hip to inner thigh to lift my leg. I wondered at just how far his prowess went as he slung it around his own, spreading me wider open. What other secrets did he know about my body that I didn't? Tracing a finger up my leg and around to my mound, he drew a long, tantalizing path to my clit. I grit my teeth and writhed, clenching my walls around his dick—it was so hard and I was wild. If he'd been standing, I'm sure he would have collapsed; his eyes rolled and he cupped my pussy hard for a moment, trying to collect himself. He pressed his lips to my ear and muttered: "You feel so good...." Finally he started to move inside me, but he was going so slowly. I wanted him to fuck me senseless, regardless if Rachel was sleeping right next to us or not. I started to play with my own tits, rubbing and kneading like he had, tightening around him and making small movements. The heat became so unbearable that I whimpered out loud at one point, and his hand came up from my clit and clasped around my mouth. I darted my tongue out to lick his fingers, and he gently stuck one in my mouth, covered with my cream. I sucked it up hungrily, still fighting for him to pump into me harder, but still he did not give in, and simply slid in and out of me ever so slowly. He pulled his hand from my mouth and grabbed my hip as he shifted onto his back, pulling me on top of him. In this position, my breasts were thrust upwards, my legs were separated, and I felt helplessly exposed. To further the feeling, Aaron pulled my nightshirt up until my tits were bared; my nipples stiffened from the cold air. My head rolled to the side and I saw Rachel sleeping peacefully, one hand above her head and the other on her chest. The sight of her right there, blissfully unaware that I was fucking right next to her, was intoxicating. Aaron raised his hips off the bed and held my waist, picking up his pace. I kept looking at Rachel while I started to fondle myself, one hand at my nipple and the other at my clit. I tilted my head over his shoulder, never missing a beat. Waves rocked over me and I was finding it hard to keep control of my own body. "Aaron," I breathed, not sure what it was I needed to tell him. I looked at Rachel again to find her still peacefully asleep—but then she stirred, her head turning towards us, and I spilled over the edge, a hoarse moan escaping me at the climax. Aaron slapped a hand over my mouth again and froze for a moment, shuddering as my contractions squeezed him over and over. We both watched Rachel—she never woke. He then wrapped one arm around my chest and the other over one leg and flipped me over onto my stomach, never pulling out. He pitched himself up on his knees, yanked me closer by my hips, and started to fuck me harder and faster than he had before while making sure not to shake the bed. I continued to clench around him, and I stuffed my face into my pillow to keep from moaning. Suddenly he slipped out of me and pressed his wet cock in between my ass cheeks. I was about to turn to see what he was doing when a burst of something warm and moist spilled out onto my skin, slipping between my crevasse and dripping all the way down to my clit. He covered my ass in his cum—I never imagined I would, but I liked it. A lot. When he was done, he reached over Rachel (who was still in the dead of sleep) and swept up a few tissues from the box. He wiped me off before tending to himself. After narrowly missing the wastebasket, he lay back down next to me with a groan and a sigh. We lay still for several minutes on end, and the entire time the idea of crawling into the crook of his arm nagged at me; for some reason I felt that doing so would be crossing a line; given what we had just done, it should have been more than okay. My nerves were on end regardless, and when I finally did slide closer to him, he opened up willingly and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. I lay my head against his chest and concentrated on its rise and fall. Of all the things I'd experienced over the course of the evening, this was the most... I don't know. I still can't put my finger on it. Euphoric, maybe? No, it was more sublime than that. This was what made me most at ease. Happy. ***

It was the smell of toasted bagels that woke me up. Aaron and I had somehow wrapped ourselves around one another during the night, and we were still tangled up. Rachel had gotten up long before us, it seemed. I wondered what she was thinking. Gently untangling myself from Aaron, I got up, made sure I was decent, then went downstairs to see Rachel. She was in the kitchen cutting bagels and sliding them into the toaster oven. When she saw me, she smiled brightly, and I of course smiled back, relieved that she wasn't awkward. "Morning, Dens!" she said happily, holding up the plate of bagel halves. "Hungry?" "Depraved," I replied, sitting down at the kitchen table. "Where's Aaron?" she asked, plucking another bagel from the bag and beginning to slice it. "Still asleep. Tuckered him out, I think." She flashed me a foxy smile. "I had fun last night, Dens. Thanks." I grinned and ducked my head, feeling a flush come to my cheeks. "Me too." "You know what," she said, now moving on to the coffee machine and plucking a filter from the basket next to it, "I'm glad no one showed up for my party. I had way more fun with you two—much better send off to London, I think." I nodded. "That was... a nice eye opener." Rachel laughed and twirled, then filled the coffee pot with water and dumped it into the machine. "I hope... you know... I know it was your first time, and all...." "I think in any other situation it would have been worse," I admitted, looking out the window as an excuse to avert my eyes. "I was more comfortable with you there. If not this, it would've been some guy who would've left me after a few more dates. This way... he's nice. I mean, I don't know him well, but...." Rachel hit the power button on the coffee maker and turned around to beam at me with a glint in her eye. "You like him, don't you?" I snickered. "Well, we kind of did unspeakable things last night, so yes, I'd say an aftereffect is that I'm attracted to him." "Ooo, Dens! And a boy!" she exclaimed, going to retrieve the last bagel from the toaster. She then looked pensive in an amused way as she set the plate on the table. "You know, I think you two would make a good couple," she said. "I can't believe I've never thought of that before. Both of you are reserved and mindful, you don't mind mingling but you prefer to relax and keep it quiet... I think you should ask him out on a date." I winced. "I dunno." "What do you mean, you don't know?" "I mean... he's probably not going to be interested in going out with me." Rachel sat down and crossed her arms. "And why wouldn't he?" "Well... I mean, compared to you—" "Compared to me you are a pretty girl with her feet on the ground. You wouldn't believe how much more appealing that is to nice guys like Aaron rather than a crazy party animal like me." Despite what she said, I still was of the thought that all guys would jump on the idea of being with Rachel before me—especially given the fact that Aaron had been with Rachel before me. She was gorgeous, delightful, and sexually experienced. I was the antithesis of all that; Rachel would shine and sparkle where I dimmed and faltered. But I couldn't deny that I liked him. "Want some coffee?" she asked after silence took over our conversation. "Please." "Milk and sugar?" "Heapings." Just as Rachel set down our coffee and brought out the various condiments to spread on our bagels, Aaron came down wearing his clothes from the night before. Both of us looked at him with guarded expressions, not knowing how he would react to the Morning After greeting. "Um..." he hummed, darting his eyes every which way and rubbing the back of his neck. "I think I'll head off now." "Want some breakfast?" Rachel asked, motioning to the plate of bagels. "That's okay, I should be getting home," he replied, observing her kitchen with feigned interest. When he turned his eyes on me, he did a slight double take. I stared back, my eyes probably wide and doughy. I was crestfallen that he wasn't as upbeat and comfortable as Rachel had been. "Well... I had a great time last night, Aaron," Rachel said softly, offering a warm smile. "Thank you so much for coming." He nodded, giving her a watery smile back, and he locked eyes with me again. I couldn't manage a smile; I didn't want him to go. "You're sure you can't stay?" I asked weakly, already regretting the words as they came out of my mouth—I sounded clingy and pathetic. "I can't," he muttered, but something changed in his face. It wasn't aversion or dislike, but something closer to reluctance. "'Kay," I muttered back. "Bye, Aaron." He nodded and looked away. "Bye. And good luck, Rachel." "Thanks." We were silent as he slipped on his shoes and opened the door. It closed so gently that it barely made noise. "Oh, well," Rachel said, her chin in her hand, "that could have been worse." I turned back to my plate and stared through the bagel. I had lost my appetite. Suddenly Rachel gasped and slapped a hand to her mouth. She started laughing hysterically, and soon she was bent over herself, clutching her side. "What?" I asked over and over, utterly perplexed. "Dens," she wheezed, "Dens, I don't think he never got your name!" I found nothing hysterical about that. ***

After we ate breakfast (in which I pretended unsuccessfully to be cheerful), I helped Rachel clean up. Even though we had showered only a few hours before, I asked to have a quick one before I hit the road on my long journey back home on the bus. She set me up in the bathroom with a towel, and I practically stripped naked in front of her as she collected me some shampoos and soaps I could use—it wasn't like she hadn't seen it before, anyway. Halfway through the shower I heard her shriek. Panic rising in my throat, I leaped out of the tub and wrapped the towel around me haphazardly before I darted into her room. She was sitting on her bed with her computer open on her lap. I'd never seen her eyes so frantic. "What's the matter?" I asked, fearing the worst. "I forgot," she said weakly. "I changed the time of the party to today." I balked. "What?" "My girlfriends from the sorority were having a party for a mutual friend last night, so I changed the party to tonight instead of yesterday." I hadn't checked the status of the event since Monday, which had read that the party was on Friday night by that point. Aaron must have read the same thing without receiving the update. "So no one really ditched your party." She guffawed. "I guess not!" So instead of going home, I helped Rachel prepare for a second party. She showered and I did her hair for her while she did her makeup, then she did the same for me, despite my protesting. "We'll make you look gorgeous for Aaron, for when he comes back," she said, carefully tracing my eye with liquid liner. "Then he simply can't resist your charm!" Rachel had sent him two text messages, but he replied to neither. I kept my fingers crossed, however. By the time Rachel had finished my makeover, I was utterly transformed. My hair, which I usually kept back in a ponytail, was flowing freely about my shoulders, straighter and tamer than I had ever seen it. My eyes popped; they looked brighter and wider with the mascara and the green eyeshadow, and my cheeks were light and rosy from the blush she had applied. She lent me a glittering gold top with a scooped neckline and a skirt that wasn't too short but not too modest, either. I had never felt prettier my entire life. We ran to the grocery store to pick up a few more fresh snacks and mixers, then ordered a few pizzas to be delivered by the time the guests would be arriving. Her and I sat on the couch and watched more reruns while sharing a mickey of spiced rum. For the first shot, we giggled and toasted one another, cheering, "Titty booze!" and downing our poison. Last night's events did not repeat themselves. But we certainly talked about it fondly. Finally guest after guest flooded in, none of whom I knew and none of whom seemed interested in knowing me. Rachel made sure her guests were entertained and taken care of, and soon a sizable enough group had gathered for music to start. More people kept coming, and the more alcohol that I had consumed, the friendlier people seemed to be. But I was becoming more and more anxious every time someone who wasn't Aaron showed up at the door. I had stopped drinking around ten at night, fretting too much over the fact that we were missing the most important guest. Time ticked on painfully. People were no longer friendly, they were abrasive, loud, childish. I isolated myself mostly, resorting to people watching, hoping at any moment I would turn to find Aaron joining me. He did not, however. Suddenly the night was over. When the last of Rachel's friends had either left or crashed, it was nearly four in the morning. I sat on the stairs, staring at the front door, looking more haggard and glum than I should have. Rachel slowly walked down the steps, sat down gently next to me, and rested her head on my shoulder. "I wouldn't worry too much about it, sweetie," she said soothingly. "Wrong place, wrong time." That didn't make me feel any better.