The moaning sounds resumed. They weren't loud, but I found myself wanting to pick up my boot and hammer on the wall with the heel. I was annoyed. I was jealous. Not of either one of the participants, but of the fact that they - Emma and her partner of the week - were able to have sex, and I wasn't.

Even if I could persuade Cameron to visit me on the weekend, we'd have serious trouble both fitting in the small bed that was all I could fit in the tiny room. And for what? Fifteen minutes of foreplay and another fifteen under him before he fell asleep? Emma and her friend had been making love for at least two hours now. There were gaps between the peaks, for sure, but each peak lasted longer than Cameron could.

Cameron's endurance and my slower response is why I usually had to finish myself off after he went to sleep. Which was okay, and necessary, but hardly intimate or fulfilling. That was even more true of my solo outings, here at my off-campus room. They occasionally met a need, but they were never really satisfying.

Emma, next door, was clearly being satisfied, and satisfying her partner, even though it was - most likely, according to what Emma had said before - a one-night stand. And so I was jealous. Not of my roomie or her partner, but of her ability to find passion in this shabby apartment.

Still, it wouldn't keep me awake. The sounds themselves weren't so loud. I was frustrated, and too out of sorts to feel a need for self-gratification, so I closed my eyes, and within a couple of minutes the frustration no longer affected me.

 

The shower was running when I returned from my run in the morning, so I brewed coffee, and had just seated myself at the kitchen table with my cup when the shower door opened. A tall blonde girl emerged, towelling her hair. If she lifted her arms any higher I'd be able to tell if she was wearing underwear beneath the tee shirt she wore.

She looked up as she turned and did a double-take as she saw me. "Oh, hey," she said. "I'm sorry. I hope you don't mind me borrowing your shower. I didn't think anyone would be up yet."

I grinned. "It's six-thirty. I just got back from a run."

Her eyes had opened wide. "Damn, that late? I really didn't mean to stay over... oh, hey, I'm Margot. I'm a friend of..." She clearly was having trouble with my roomie's name.

"Emma?" I suggested.

"Yeah, right. Yeah. Emma," she said, her expression chagrined. "I'm just on my way out."

"Want a coffee before you go?" I asked.

"Sure," she said. "Let me just go get dressed."

As she headed back to Emma's room, her tee hugged her butt close enough that I could answer the underwear question in the affirmative.

 

"Thanks for the coffee," Margot said, as she tipped a blue sweetener packet into her cup and began to stir.

"Sure," I said. "I'm Tiffany. Tiff."

"Nice to meet you, Tiff," she said. "Are you a friend of Emma's?"

I shrugged. "I guess, though really I'm Just a roomie. A service put us together and found this place. It's cheap, but everything works."

"I'm sure the walls are thin," she said. "I hope we didn't keep you awake."

"Not so's you'd notice," I lied.

"Do you and Emma ever...?" She glanced at my roomie's closed door.

Shaking my head, I said, "I have a boyfriend back home in Chicago."

"Chicago's not here," Margot pointed out, helpfully.

I rolled my eyes. "What I mean is, I'm straight. I've got no problem with Emma's choice of company," - well, other than she gets to have company - "but it isn't for me."

Margot pouted. "Shame. If you'd been avoiding roommate drama rather than avoiding women, I'd have asked for your number." Her eyes took a quick tour of what she could see over the table - short brown hair, which badly needed washing and brushing out, hazel eyes, small nose, black C-cup sports bra likely visible through my thin white tee - and sighed. "If you ever feel like changing teams, Emma knows where to find me."

I grinned and shook my head. "Thanks, I think, but I'm good."

 

When Margot left, I showered. Not long after I was done, Emma emerged from her room, blinking, her golden brown curls in complete disarray. She was in her pajamas, a bottle-green cami with lace trim and matching ankle-length pants. "I smell coffee," she croaked.

"Sit down," I said, "I'll get it."

She looked up at the table, still blinking. "Did I hear voices a while ago?"

"Margot had coffee before she left," I said, as I presented her with a cup.

"Margot?" She blinked again, staring at me, and I realized she probably didn't have her contacts in. "Oh, right, Margot."

"Jesus," I said, expelling my breath in a laugh. "She had the same trouble with your name. I take it you aren't that close."

"We've moved in the same circles for a while," Emma said. "Never got together before, though."

"And never again?" I suggested.

She shrugged. "Probably not." Then her eyes drifted away, and she said, "Although..."

"Tell me about it," I groused. "I was wishing I could move my bed to the far wall."

Emma blinked at me again, then grinned. "If you had a bed like mine, it would be easy."

"Oh, yeah," I said. "I guess it would."

I'd seen Emma's room. She had a mat with a Japanese futon bed rather than a bed frame.

"And it also means no creaking bed springs," I added.

"Were we really so loud?" Emma asked. There was concern in her voice, but her expression was hard to tell with her eyes screwed up for focus.

"Nah," I said, with a sigh. "Just made me wish I could find something like that."

"Well, you could," objected Emma.

I snorted, then got up from the table to pour myself another coffee. I topped Emma's up before I sat down again. "Yeah, Margot implied she'd personally help me to 'switch teams'." I made air quotes as I said it.

"She did, did she?" Emma's tone was dry, and her eyebrows were raised, but she was still trying to focus.

"Go put your glasses on," I said. "You don't make much sense when I can't see you."

Emma humphed, then frowned slightly. "Don't you mean when I can't see you?" she asked, as she stood.

"No," I replied, "because the vacant look when you're trying to see makes you seem not there."

She grinned. "Fair point," she said, and headed to her room.

She returned a moment later wearing dark green-framed glasses. She had pulled her hair into better shape, and she seemed far more alert now that she wasn't scowling at everything. "But you could," she said, continuing her earlier point. She sat and picked up her cup. "You do have a vibe?"

I shrugged. "Yeah, but I've always felt it's... second best, I guess. Too impersonal. I don't usually get there with Cameron, but when I do, it's better."

Emma considered me for a moment, then took a sip of coffee. "I could help you out," she said.

This time I blinked. "That wouldn't work. You know it wouldn't. Like I told Margot earlier, I'm straight."

She shrugged. "You don't need to be attracted to a person for them to give you the big O," she said, quite casually. "Especially if they have some skill."

I felt my face warm, even though the idea was kinda squicky. "You... uhh... have skill?"

Emma breathed on her fingernails and pretended to polish them on the strap of her cami. "You heard us last night, right?"

I made a face. "Ugh. Just, no. And what would you get out of it?"

"The satisfaction of helping a friend," she said, piously.

"Jesus," I responded, shaking my head. I took the rest of my coffee to the sink and poured it out. It was time to get to my first class.

 

Monday was usually the day Emma brought a girl home. There was a social event every week at a club that catered to LGBT patrons. Sometimes she came home in the wee hours, and once or twice she'd returned alone, but usually, Monday was the day that I wished I'd picked up earplugs at the pharmacy.

The rest of the week she was a diligent student. She worked at the desk in her room. It was more comfortable than mine, since she could roll her bed up and give the illusion of space. We shared a TV in the kitchen, but neither of us used it often.

And, sure enough, the next Monday found me trying to ignore the sounds from Emma's room.

I tried not to let it bother me. And mostly, it didn't, or at least I tolerated it better than the previous week. I mean, I understood that I had nothing to be irritated about. I wouldn't begrudge Emma her pleasure. I just wished I had even a fraction of her opportunity.

Deciding that this time I'd be able to ease my frustrations, I did so, with help from my vibe. It wasn't great, but it was adequate, and I slept well afterward.

 

Whoever my roomie's evening companion had been this week, she'd left in the night. The shower was mine when I got back from my run, and Emma was less bleary when she came through. She'd even managed to get her contacts in.

"This'll never do," I said. "You're awake at a normal hour. It must have been a boring night."

"Not so boring," she replied, taking the coffee I offered her. "Maybe not as... energetic as, umm..."

"Margot," I said, with a roll of my eyes.

"Yeah. But good."

"So tell me," I said. "Why would it be any better to let another person get you off than to do it yourself? If you're not attracted to them, that is?"

Emma raised an eyebrow. "Thinking about it, are you?"

I shook my head, though I couldn't entirely deny it, since I wouldn't have asked if it hadn't been on my mind. "Just answer the question."

She smirked briefly, then asked, "Are you ticklish?"

"What the hell does that have to do with anything?" I asked.

She pitched her voice low, to imitate me. "Just answer da question."

"A little," I admitted. "Why?"

"Have you ever tried to tickle yourself?"

"Yeah," I said. "I've tried to figure out exactly where I'm ticklish, so I know what to avoid. It's uncomfortable."

"And it doesn't really tickle, does it?"

"Right."

"Same thing," Emma said. "Kinda the same. When you touch yourself you know what you want. You know what you'll do. You do what you like, sure, but there's no novelty. Novelty and a touch of the unknown, and the involvement of another warm body, they all add up. Even if you don't much like the other person."

"I didn't say I don't like you," I objected. "I just don't feel anything for you. Which would make it weird."

"Would it?" she asked, her expression seeming genuinely curious. "Yeah, maybe it would."

 

What she said stayed with me. I didn't like being tickled, but I could see the correlation. Another person tickling - like Cameron, the ass, even though I told him no - affected me much more than if I poked at the ticklish places. If I tried, it was just irritating until it became painful.

It would certainly be weird, though. Especially considering what she might be feeling, since she was attracted to girls. What would she be wanting to do to me?

Maybe nothing, of course. I hadn't asked her if she would feel anything for me. I didn't think I'd want to know, since any answer would probably make me uncomfortable.

 

"I can't believe I'm even thinking this far," I said, next morning. "But what about, maybe trying, but not all the way? Let me go do my own thing in my own room at the end."

"Tiff," she said, "I am a master of edging."

"Master?" I asked, eyebrows raised.

She grinned. "If I say mistress it has entirely the wrong implications. Just say, I can leave you wanting more, which you can then find yourself."

"So, uhh, just fingers, right? No mouth, no, uhh, full body contact, or whatever you do with your girlfriends?"

"However you want," Emma agreed. "Bring your vibe, if you like. Or don't. I won't need it. Tonight?"

I shivered slightly at the sudden substance of her offer. "Uh, yeah. If I don't decide to back out. I might."

Emma shrugged. "Up to you, one hundred percent."

 

I found myself nervously preparing for the evening during the couple of classes I had, and was clumsy during lab. This was a stupid idea. But if I could get even a small part of what her girlfriends got... I wanted that. Or something like it.

Was it being unfaithful to Cam? It wasn't being faithful, I guessed, but was it really wrong, if there was no affection and no sex? Especially if I finished the job myself? Really, was it any more unfaithful than solo pleasure? And that's something I pursued even with Cam asleep beside me.

What about clothing? I had a skimpy sleepshirt that was mostly for if Cam was around, and a tee that I usually slept in. The sleepshirt was little more than a negligee, which could give Emma entirely the wrong idea, and the tee might be long enough to be okay around the apartment, but if Emma were to have access to work she'd have to pull it up over her panties, so the length wouldn't make it any less revealing. I wore a robe around the apartment, but that wouldn't be an option. Pajamas would work better. They could be partly unfastened without being removed.

So after lab I headed to the department store and bought myself lightweight pajamas. Royal blue silk-satin - for the low price the claimed material was dubious, but it felt good, thin and soft - with a button-front top, more modest than Emma's cami, and drawstring shorts. Weird situation or not, they'd be good to have.

 

Emma made mac and cheese. That and ramen were fundamentals of our cuisine, though one or other of us occasionally experimented on the weekend, if we didn't eat out separately.

Then she asked, casually, "Are you backing out?"

Her expression was neutral. If she'd looked either eager or apprehensive I probably would have done. Instead, I shook my head.

"Come through when you're ready, then," she said, and went to her room.

I washed the dishes, since she'd cooked, then changed into my new pajamas in my room. They were so comfortable that I wished I'd had them all semester.

 

Emma's futon bed was considerably larger than the bland metal frame in my room. Since she would roll it up every day it could take up much more space. Lowering myself onto it was a strange experience in several senses. It was so low that sitting on it felt odd. It was softer than it looked. Most of all, though, there was a girl lying on the right side, propped up on her elbow, dark golden curls spilling out behind her, watching me through green-framed glasses.

I lay on my back, stretched along the futon. I assumed that's what Emma would want me to do, and she didn't redirect me. The pillow was small, and felt almost like a lightweight beanbag. I sat up again and picked it up.

"Wriggle the back of your head into it," Emma advised. "It will keep its shape. They're really comfortable to sleep on."

So I lay back down, and the pillow worked as she'd claimed.

The duvet was coiled up behind Emma. She unrolled it over us. Then she took off her glasses, folded them on the mat at the head of the futon, and shook her hair out behind her. "Last chance to chicken out," she said.

I shook my head once, then said, "But you promise you'll stop in time."

"Mmhmm," she said, then lowered herself all the way onto the bed, facing me.

 

The duvet was pulled up to our shoulders, so I couldn't see Emma's hand, but I saw her arm move, then felt her fingers against my belly. She walked them down my body to my shorts, then slipped them inside, extending them over my panties.

The waistband of the shorts tightened around me. "Let me loosen them," I whispered, and unfastened the bow, as Emma's hand cupped my pussy and began to squeeze.

She was gentle, but the pressure of her palm against my sex was insistent, and I felt myself start to tingle with the stirring of arousal. Although as I felt the sensation, I realized that I'd been feeling something akin to it for a long time. The anticipation of Emma's fingers on me had been more thrilling than I'd admitted, and had prepared me better than I'd realized. So when I began to feel my breathing deepen, I knew that the excitement had been building within me for some time.

Emma's eyes were locked onto my face. I glanced over at her, but the intensity with which she was studying my reactions was unnerving. Clearly she was taking great care not to make me uncomfortable, but the result was that her efforts to avoid that outcome were causing it. So I stared at the ceiling and tried to remember not to glance over toward her.

The rhythm of her hand was slow and sensuous, and I was anticipating each squeeze with a slight press of my hips, but it still felt to me that my arousal was mild. If I'd been using my vibe I'd have been much further along. So, when Emma drew her hand higher, I was surprised to realize that my panties were slick against her fingers.

Then she pressed her hand back lower, but this time it was inside the waistband of my panties. She hadn't even gone inside me, but her fingers against my pussy lips made my belly churn with desire. The heel of her thumb pressed to the mound of my clit, and she rolled her hand from side to side as her fingertips slipped just barely inside.

My heart raced as I continued to stare at the ceiling, but it was hard to tell whether it was directly the result of Emma's touch, or my unease at the whole situation. Even though I'd overcome the squick factor, it wasn't entirely absent, and a girl touching me inside felt wrong.

But it didn't feel bad. Quite the opposite. Especially as one finger slipped a little further in and began to circle.

Each motion of her finger inside me set up a counterpressure against the sensitive place under the back of her thumb. To every action, there's an equal and opposite...

I snorted.

Emma's fingers stopped moving, though she didn't withdraw them. "You okay?" she asked.

I shook my head. "School on my brain. I'm good." I was surprised at how hoarse my voice sounded. I glanced over to see Emma nod before she resumed her work.

The accidental interruption had broken some of my resistance to the situation. I guess a moment's normalcy had set my feelings in better perspective, and I was able to relax. At least in that one sense, because the sensations building in my clit were far from relaxing. I parted my lips to ease my deep breathing, my chest rising higher under the duvet.

If Cam would treat me like this... I mused, then felt a pang of resentment. If he had been a little more persistent with foreplay like this, I might have been able to climax with him. Had that ever been important to him?

Emma's hand shifted a little, and I felt a light caress directly against my clit. "Hnnn..." I grunted, the muscles in my lower belly tensing. The caress became a steady roll, and I began to pant. My thighs had begun to tighten, pressing my sex against Emma's touch. God, this feeling was pure arousal, perhaps even more so than if there'd been attraction and lust. Not wanting the feeling to end, I managed to suppress a moan, but it made me shudder. My breasts felt warm under the duvet, and I wanted to push it back, but I didn't want to reveal the depth of my arousal to Emma's intense scrutiny.

It didn't help. She must have had a pretty good handle on my state. I felt her palm slide up my body, fingers slipping out of me. She lightly pinched my clit before withdrawing completely, and I squirmed, letting out the moan I'd been trying to hold back.

"I think it's time you went back to your room," she murmured. "I hope your toy is charged."

I wanted to say it's not going to need much of a charge, but I didn't think I could form the words. So I nodded and stood - which was harder from the low futon than from a bed - then scampered back to my room.

Prolonging the experience wasn't on the cards. I pressed the vibe firmly to my clit, turned it to high, and held it there until my body began to spasm, crying out once as a wave of pleasure rolled into me.

When I set the toy aside I was feeling more relaxed and content than at any time since I'd moved in.

 

Emma was up and working on coffee already when I returned from my next morning run. I exchanged a quick nod with her, thinking that I ought to feel awkward or embarrassed, but I didn't.

When I emerged from the shower, I sat at the table in my robe and sipped the coffee Emma had poured. "Thanks," I said, and she gave me a brief smile, her eyes bright behind her glasses.

"Sleep well?" she asked, with a trace of irony.

"Best night's sleep for a while," I replied. "You?"

"Good," she said. After a sip of coffee, she asked, "Want to schedule another session?"

I had thought about it. My tension was gone, but I didn't think I'd need to feel deprived to enjoy a repeat. "I dunno," I said. "Doesn't it just transfer my frustration to you?"

She grinned quickly. "I wouldn't say that," she said.

"Sure, then," I said. "Not tonight. I need to catch up on my project."

"I'm out tomorrow," she said. "Saturday?"

"Sure, why not?" I agreed.

 

After breakfast on Saturday, Emma left the apartment for the day. I spent most of the time studying, then picked up tacos. After I'd eaten, I showered, then lounged in PJs and robe in one of the two comfortable chairs in the kitchen / dining / living / everything room watching TV. We didn't have a video subscription, and my choices were college sports, college sports, or NCIS, so I spent an hour sipping a diet Sprite and watching the procedural.

Emma hadn't shown up, and I wasn't sure how I felt about that. We'd agreed on an activity, but we didn't have any kind of commitment or promise, and it wasn't something she owed me. I had to admit I was mildly disappointed, though. I was about to turn off the TV and get an early night when the door opened at her return.

"Sorry, I meant to be back a couple of hours ago," she said. "Let me get a shower and take my eyes out, and I'll be ready... if you're still up for it, of course?"

"Sure," I said. "Take your time."

 

The ice in my drink was fully melted when Emma opened the door of her room and beckoned me in. I poured out the slightly sweet water, left the glass in the sink and complied, after tossing my robe into my room, then settled down onto her bed.

Again, Emma covered us both with the duvet before starting her task. I remembered to loosen my pajama shorts as soon as she did, then her fingers moved into them.

This time she didn't study me in the same way. It seemed she'd decided what worked well, and didn't need so much feedback. Her eyes were mostly on my face, but didn't carry the same intensity, and glancing over at her no longer made me uncomfortable.

Or maybe I was just getting used to this weird situation.

Whatever the case, her fingers still were very effectively turning me on. This time she was avoiding my clit, and after caressing my labia until I felt myself getting wet, she pushed my panties aside and slipped two fingers inside me, exploring, then moving firmly in a slow stroke.

Her movements were almost mechanical, with no apparent thought to being sensual. It was as though she wasn't really involved in them. And yet each stroke increased the tingling within by a tiny fragment. Maybe distancing was a tactic to prevent me from becoming aroused too quickly. If that was the intention, it worked, and she was able to keep up the motion for a long time.

Even so, the constant motion had me breathing heavily, and beginning to rock my hips against her hand. I began to feel overheated, and pushed the duvet down. Emma's eyes followed the movement as I did, resting for a moment on the swell of my breasts within the thin blue fabric, then returned to my face.

Her hand began to move faster and further, her fingers curling forward, pressing firmly to the inside of my sex. What had been a growing arousal unfurled into a full-body feeling that vibrated to the tips of my fingers and toes. I suppressed a moan, but my self-conscious control couldn't prevent my back arching as pleasure stirred within.

Then Emma's movements slowed, and she slowly withdrew her hand. My body quivered before lowering to the bed, and my breath was ragged.

"It's that time, I guess," I said, with a little regret.

"Wait a moment," Emma said. "Catch your breath."

I did, though I really wanted to get to my own bed and do what was needed. My breathing became smooth, if still a little heavy, and my heart stopped racing, though I could feel every pulse.

Glancing at Emma, I saw a slight smirk on her face. I didn't know what she had planned, but it wasn't to let me lose my arousal before sending me away. Her damp fingers rested on my thigh, and she showed no sign of moving them away.

Instead, I felt them move back toward my sex. Then one finger caressed me, over the folds of my sex to my clit, and began to clrcle slowly. The sharp jolt of arousal cut into me like a knife. A knife of pleasure... if I hadn't been straining to relax my breathing, I might have laughed at the incongruity. My feelings surged, and my back lifted from the bed, hips trying to push my sex against her finger.

Was she really going to stop, this time?

I moaned aloud, the sound bypassing any control I might have tried to impose.

Would it matter if she didn't stop?

Yes, I decided, it would, but I was incapable of making it happen. The slow motion against my clit just made me want more, and I writhed in need....

And then it was gone.

"Now you can go," Emma whispered, and I did, holding my loose pajama shorts up as I stood.

In my room, I didn't even bother with the vibe. I just collapsed on the bed, slipped a finger inside my panties and tried to simulate her touch on my clit. It didn't feel quite as good, but at this point it didn't need to. I writhed on the bed for a few seconds, then whimpered as I climaxed, hard.

As I came I was picturing Emma's knowing smirk, as though my fingers against me were just an extension of what she'd done.

 

I didn't bother with my run on Sunday. I always tried to plan the week that I could use the day to relax completely. If I needed to buy food, I'd do that, but otherwise I wouldn't study and wouldn't work out. So I didn't get up until after eight-thirty, getting myself cereal and starting the coffee machine.

When Emma came into the kitchen I felt my cheeks warm. Strange. I didn't think I had any reason to be embarrassed. "Morning," I said, then echoing the earlier "morning after" conversation, "Sleep well?"

"Mmh, great," she said.

"Your bed's more comfortable than mine," I said, as she poured herself coffee. My cheeks still felt too warm.

She grinned. "I've been told that before."

That brought a surge of annoyance. What the hell? Why would I care that anyone else found her bed pleasant?

"I, uh..." I began, not sure why continuing felt awkward, "I didn't think you were going to stop."

She flashed me a smile. "I told you. I know what I'm doing. It was better for you that way, right?"

Again, the sensation of warmth on my cheeks. "Yeah, it was."

She gave a satisfied nod.

"I'm going to walk to the grocery this afternoon," I said, for want of a conversation topic. "Want to come with?"

"Sure," she agreed.

 

The grocery was a little over a half-mile from our apartment. There was a convenience store closer, but if we needed more than one or two items, the grocery was worth the walk. We each carried two bags as we returned home.

"When next?" Emma asked, after we'd crossed the only major street on the route. The rest of the walk was in an old but safe neighborhood.

"What what?" I asked.

"You know," she said. "You, me, my shikibuton..."

"Your what?"

"My bed," she said.

"Oh, right. Well, I don't like to ask for too much."

"Bored, already?" she asked, giving me a sharp look. "Had enough?"

"Christ, no," I replied. My heart skipped a beat at the thought of feeling her fingers again. I wasn't going to reject the opportunity. "But I don't want to be greedy."

"Don't let that worry you," she said, casually. "I'm going out Monday. Tuesday... probably not. How's next Wednesday?"

"I could do that," I said, trying to make my tone as casual as hers.

 

Monday evening reprised previous Mondays. Whoever was sharing Emma's futon had a higher-pitched voice than my roomie. I imagined Emma touching her in the same way she'd touched me, that slight smirk on her face, as she started to moan. But then I heard Emma's softer voice, too, and realized that whatever they were doing was mutual. That was very different from Emma and me.

She wouldn't have the same smirk in that case. I wondered what her expression was at that point. And surely, she would be naked, and not hiding under a duvet. Was she on top, with her curls spilling forward? On her back, with her eyes closed?

Jesus, was I fantasizing about my roommate? I forced myself to stop. I realized that whatever squick factor I thought I still felt had drifted away without a trace a few days earlier.

Even without the fantasy, I was still turned on. I readied my vibrator and built the feeling into a pleasant climax. As I came I wasn't picturing being with Cam. I was imagining golden curls and an amused grin.

 

"Sleep well?" I asked, when Emma appeared the next morning. It was becoming a private joke.

"Mmhmm," she said. She headed straight to the dishwasher, grabbed a cup and filled it with coffee. Her bare feet swished on the floor as she headed to the table, clearly not fully awake. She took a sip, then brushed her hair back and peered at me through her glasses. "Thanks for the coffee."

"Sure," I responded. "So, do you remember her name this time?"

"Val," she said, instantly. "She's been here bef... well, you wouldn't know that anyway."

"Oh, some of them are repeat visitors?"

"Sure," Emma said. Then she frowned. "Why the interrogation? You suddenly have a problem?"

"No," I said, quickly. "No, not at all. I just wonder. You don't seem to get close to anyone. I'm surprised to hear you've seen anyone more than once."

"Yah, well, I'm no closer to Val than I am to, umm..." She waved a hand in the air.

"Margot?" I suggested.

She laughed. "I did remember, but I thought you'd enjoy correcting me. Yeah. Or Sally, or Paula... we're friends. We..." she frowned for a moment. "We have a shared interest in getting off, and a mutually pleasurable way to do it. How is that a problem? For Val, or me, or Margot, or you, or anyone else?"

I shrugged. "Not a problem for me," I said. After a moment, I added, "You won't get frustrated by, umm, unavailability the way I was."

She looked up and grinned at me. "As they say, as meaningless experiences go, it's pretty damn good."

I chuckled.

"We're still on for tomorrow?" Emma asked. "Your new concern over my relationship status hasn't changed your mind?"

I shook my head. "I'm good if you are," I said.

"About that, then," she said. "I like your PJs, but I don't think you really need underwear with them."

"You... want me to not wear panties?" Something swirled in the pit of my stomach.

"It would be easier, and I can't really ask you to take them off without taking off your shorts."

"That's logical," I agreed, hoping the flush of arousal didn't show. The sudden feeling was not logical, given that either way we were talking about her touching me intimately. I grinned. "I'll try to remember."

 

If I felt any uneasiness at spending time in Emma's bed, it was no longer about having a girl's hands on me and in me. It was that the evenings seemed increasingly not to be compatible with being faithful to my boyfriend. I guess they never were, but where I'd seen them as meeting a need, now I was looking forward to them as an exciting sexual experience. One that Cam had no way to compete with.

Even my own solo experience on that Monday evening had been more intimate and more satisfying than any time I'd had with Cam.

I knew I could never tell him about what I was doing with Emma, which in itself confirmed that I was being unfaithful. But if I stayed with him, I'd be committing to a future of disappointment with sex. Unless he could change his attitude, to become more adventurous and more considerate.

Yeah, right.

I wasn't even feeling especially attracted to him, anymore. Of course, I wasn't feeling attracted to Emma, either. Except that I was seriously attracted to her fingers...

Those fingers were now beckoning me into her room, and I obeyed their guidance.

"Do you think we'd be better without the duvet?" asked Emma. "You were too hot last time. I can turn the light off, or low, if you're squeamish."

"I'm not squeamish," I objected, as I sat on the futon. "But I think I'd like lower light."

She nodded and turned the room light off, leaving just a small decorative light on the desk at the other side of the room. Then she settled beside me, and set her glasses in their usual place on the mat. I reached down to unfasten the drawstring of my PJ shorts, much more self-consciously than before, with no underwear beneath.

"Okay?" Emma asked.

At my nod she moved her right hand over to slip inside my shorts. Maybe the lack of panties had excited me more than I realized, but her touch was electric. As her fingers barely penetrated inside my heart had already sped up.

"Would you like me to take my time?" Emma murmured. It surprised me, because she'd always been pretty much silent, beyond checking that I was okay.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I could get you a lot more turned on without pushing you too far," she said. "Would you like that?"

"Yeah," I breathed.

Surprisingly, if she wanted to delay my arousal, she began to stroke my clit, making me shiver and tense up. My hips moved with her touch, and my arousal spiked.

Then she backed away, caressing my folds, then slowly delving inside. My thighs tensed around her hand, but I was in no danger of losing control.

My excitement level stayed high, and my breathing heavy. If I seemed to be flagging at all, Emma would extend her thumb to press on the hood of my clit, circling it until I started to moan, then releasing it before I could get too close to the point of no return.

Emma kept me in this state for longer than we'd spent before on our entire encounter. And eventually, even when she avoided my clit entirely, just her touch seemed to be about to move me too far. And I was at the point of wanting that, whatever the consequences.

But she drew her hand completely back and rested it on my belly.

"Should I go now?" I asked, hoping I didn't sound too disappointed.

"Only if you want to," Emma replied. "Otherwise, the longer you last, the better it feels, right?"

"I guess," I said.

Emma ran a finger down over my sex. Though it was just a brief touch, my whole body was still tingling with arousal, and I groaned.

When she drew her finger back from my pussy, she raised it higher, to circle my right breast.

I stiffened, but she continued, spiralling in to circle my nipple over the thin top. As aroused as I was, I groaned again, feeling my nipple swell, my heart speeding up.

My breath caught as she pinched my nipple between finger and thumb. My arousal spiked. Without her touching my sex, I didn't think it would threaten my control, but it did send a thrill throughout my body.

"You like that," Emma stated.

"Yeah, but..."

She chuckled. "Don't worry," she said. "I do know what I'm doing."

I nodded."Okay," I croaked.

Emma squeezed my breast lightly, then moved her hand back down, into my shorts, where she found the mound of my clit and pressed down, beginning a circling motion.

"Oh God," I groaned. My hips lifted, pressing my sex against her fingers, and I started to pant.

Emma didn't leave me in that state for long. She must have recognized how much that final touch had propelled me forwards. She drew her hand back, and whispered, "Go!"

I did, almost dropping my shorts. I did let them fall in my room, then threw myself onto the bed, face down. Wedging my hand beneath me, the hood of my clit pressed to my wrist, I bucked my hips against it, instantly feeling myself driven into the final flight to orgasm. With my left hand, I squeezed my left breast, then buried my face against my sheets to muffle the cry of intense pleasure as I crested, my sex yielding to passion and contracting into pulsing delight.

 

Morning coffee had been an unplanned ritual between Emma and me since we'd moved in together. We both took coffee the same, black and strong, depending on it for a good start to the day. If she rose before I returned from my run, she'd brew it. If I returned first, I would. We didn't need to ask permission to take a cup, and never needed to check how the other liked her coffee prepared. The only exception was that Emma would occasionally buy a fancier grind than the grocery can, and I wouldn't use that, but I would drink the coffee she made with it.

So when I returned from my run to find Emma brewing coffee I just went straight to the shower, and poured myself coffee as soon as I was finished.

"You don't need to ask," she said, as I made myself a bowl of cereal. "I did."

"Me too," I replied. "Like a baby."

"Did you like the change of pace?" Emma asked.

I felt a sudden thrill in my groin as I remembered how turned on I'd been last night. I tried to keep my expression neutral. "Yeah," I said. "It was intense."

"I've got a light day today," she said. "Want to go again?"

"Tonight?" I responded in surprise.

"Problem?"

"No, but..." I began. "Look, I keep telling myself that this is just a casual thing we've done occasionally because it keeps me from getting frustrated, which is true. Twice in two days isn't casual or occasional."

"And that's bad because...?"

"I guess because I'm going to have to admit to myself that I want it just because I want it, not because of some excuse about not seeing my boyfriend in months. I want it because it's fucking hot." I blinked. "I guess I just admitted it."

"I guess you did," Emma replied.

"Why do you want to, though?" I asked.

"Maybe you haven't realized, but it's pretty fucking hot for me, too," Emma replied.

"Yeah?"

Emma grinned, her amusement clear even behind her glasses. "You didn't realize that making you horny turns me on?"

"I guess I must have known that it would," I replied, "but I hadn't thought it would be very much."

"Mmh. It is."

So I - or, at least, my reactions - were the source of another girl's lust. I didn't know how I felt about that. I wasn't into her, only what she could do. Was she into me?

"Do you, uh, fantasize about me?" I asked.

An eyebrow rose, her amusement still clear. "I'll answer that if you do," she said.

I recalled imagining her expression on Monday night. "Maybe we should table that."

"Okay," she said, completely unfazed. "So, tonight?"

I paused for only a moment before replying, "Okay."

 

Emma had already dimmed the lights and was lying on the bed when I entered. I lay beside her. Knowing that what she was going to do to me would be turning her on too gave me a strange feeling, but it wasn't discomfort, it was more of a spicy addition to the anticipation I felt.

She began by lightly stroking my right breast. Why did it feel more intimate for her to do that than to get her hands inside my shorts? That thought reminded me that I hadn't yet loosened the drawstring, so I did that while Emma kept caressing.

She circled the nipple, and I felt it begin to swell within the light fabric. Adding her thumb, she lightly pinched the nipple, then began to move her fingers apart, taking in more of the breast, squeezing it and releasing, rolling her fingers and thumb against it. My clit tingled with each squeeze.

Moving to more familiar ground, Emma released my breast and slipped her hand into my shorts. She briefly caressed my sex, finding me already quite wet, then buried two fingers deep within me and began to rock her wrist, quickly but smoothly. I joined her motion, rocking my hips against her hand, each thrust of her fingers into me carrying me a little higher.

I was panting when Emma withdrew her hand, but I was still still well within the safe zone. She lifted her hand to my right breast and kneaded it, covering it completely, then letting her fingers and palm slide back so that she was squeezing only the top of my breast, and then tugging the nipple. When the nipple popped out of her grasp, she covered the mound again and started over. The muscles of my belly tensed with the stimulation.

Parting her fingers around the tip of my breast, she squeezed, pushing my erect nipple firmly into the cloth of the jacket. Then she moved her face closer. "Will you let me do this?" she asked, then extended her tongue to flick against the nipple.

"Mmm, yeah, if you like," I said, my tone rasping.

Parting her lips, she brought them down over my nipple and began to suckle through the fabric. Whatever she was doing with her tongue was hidden from me by her lips, but it sent a rapid series of shocks flowing into my clit, and I groaned.

Moving her hand from my breast, she left her mouth covering it, so that she could continue to suckle as the hand began to tease my left breast, tugging on the nipple and squeezing the tip.

 

My left breast tingled too when she moved her hand away, sliding it back down my body and into my shorts. She gently caressed my labia as my hips slowly lifted against her hand. After a time she pushed her fingers deep inside me, then began to move them rapidly in and out.

My hips rocked against her motion, my arousal suddenly overwhelming. I needed to buck harder against her hand. I needed release, as all the sensations that had built up over the past half hour converged in my clit, from the first thrill of Emma touching my breast to the forceful penetration now, and her mouth on my breast still amplifying every feeling of pleasure.

She wasn't going to stop before I came. I knew it. And I was in no state to enforce my rule, because I needed for her not to stop...

Except she did. My thighs were already starting to tense, and I was going to come like a runaway train cresting a hill, but she drew her fingers back. And, even more cruelly, she caressed my labia, which made me even more needful of release, but denied it to me, as my thighs twisted, trying to press my sex to her fingers, but finding nothing for my focus.

Her tongue circled my nipple as I groaned in complete frustration. Her eyes were on mine as her tongue and fingers tormented me.

Then Emma lifted her face from my breast. Her fingers trailed over my clit, making me shudder and groan, but continued up to rest on my belly as she lay on her side, facing me.

"It's time for you to leave, don't you think?" she said.

"Not yet," I begged. "I... I need to catch my breath."

"I thought not waiting was the point," she said, with a grin. "You don't want time to cool down before you get to your room."

Her voice was soft, and I realized her breathing was heavy. She was trying to keep her voice normal, but for the first time I sensed just how turned on she was.

"Just a minute longer," I pleaded.

"Okay," she said. "Your call."

My head still turned toward her, I looked into her eyes. There was a reason I wasn't supposed to feel attracted to her, wasn't there? I wasn't supposed to want to touch her body, to feel her against me. I was damned if the reason mattered to me at that moment. If I could even remember what it sas.

My left hand lifted, seemingly of its own volition, and touched her waist. Then it moved upwards, under her cami, and covered her right breast.

Emma's eyes widened, and she let out a small gasp, but she kept her eyes on mine as I closed my hand over her, feeling the luscious suppleness of her breast.

"I see..." she whispered.

Her face was so close to mine. Her expression was pleased, even greedy, and her knowing grin had an insolent aspect.

And was even closer than it had been. I don't know which of us had moved.

I could feel her breath tickle my chin, and see her lips, which just a moment ago were parted around my nipple. Now they were parted again, just an inch or two from me.

There was a reason I wasn't supposed to want to taste her, too, right?

The gap between us seemed to vanish without closing, and I groaned as my lips touched hers, and her desire merged with mine.

Our lips moved against the other's as we kept adjusting our positions, the contact between us gentle, but promising not to stay that way. I sensed her desire, even over the strength of mine. Her tongue touched my lips and I sighed into the kiss. Then it met mine, and I felt a shock of passion flow between us.

I squeezed her breast harder. I had never touched another girl this way, and in spite of knowing how my own boobs felt, I was thrilled by her softness. I thought her breasts were slightly smaller than mine, but to my fingers they felt full, filling my palm, a small touch of firmness in the center.

Emma's hand drifted over my belly, and I felt it stop and move in place. Then it stopped a little higher, and moved in place again. The small tension of my pajama top relaxed, then her hand was just below my sternum, stopping every few inches, until she parted my top and squeezed my right breast, skin to skin.

I released her breast for long enough to grasp her shoulder and pull her body over mine.

When she was partway over me, my right arm was no longer pinned between us, and I used it to push her cami higher, then used both hands to pull it up. Emma lifted her arms to let me strip it from her, then opened my top completely before centering herself over me and lowering her chest to mine.

The feel of her breasts against mine excited me. They moved as we did, our kisses becoming intense. Her hands explored my waist and hips, moving her body against mine.

She broke the kiss, panting. "You realize," she gasped, "there's no way I'm going to stop for you to go back to your room now?"

"Don't stop," I replied, earnestly. "Please don't stop."

Emma grinned. Then she moved her hand over my hips, down to the leg of my pajama shorts, then up inside them, tugging the opening high and slipping a couple of fingers into me. Moving her right thigh over mine, she pressed it against her hand. Then she gripped my ass with her left hand and began to fuck me, her fingers curled against the inner wall of my sex, her wrist sandwiched against me, just below my clit, and her hips thrusting her hand against me.

I moaned loudly into the kiss. Her tongue penetrated deeply and I suckled it, feeling Emma's breathing becoming unsteady.

Then I couldn't hold the kiss any longer. I needed air. Each panting breath produced a sound - "Uh! Uh! Uh!...."

I was so aroused I shouldn't even have made it this far without falling into climax, but Emma's thrusting seemed to have pushed me so far beyond my body's limit that I just squirmed, thighs and belly tensing with each stroke, back lifting further, gasping with each breath.

Until suddenly, all of the sources of erotic tension fused into one, and a truly fierce orgasm exploded outward from my sex, infusing every part of my body. I yelled, losing control, writhing beneath her. My arms and breasts tingled, the electric feeling in my shoulders not letting me move for a while. When it lessened sufficiently, I wrapped my arms around her and held her to me, keeping my body squeezed against her while the pulsing pleasure still suffused me.

Beginning to recover my ability to breathe, I kissed her again. She was tender, and her tongue tasted sweet. She lifted herself from me enough to withdraw her hand, then lay back down along me, her right thigh between my legs.

Then she pulled away, and whispered, "Not so loud! The walls are thin, and I have a roommate."

"Fuck her," I breathed.

"I already did," she said, with a smile. "Now I'm going to get her naked and do it again."

Even after what I'd just experienced with her, Emma's words sent a thrill through me. She lifted herself to her knees and I raised my legs to let her slip my pajama shorts off. Then she worked her way out of her own pajama bottoms and lowered herself back onto me, her leg again between mine.

"I am sorry about the noise, though," I said.

She laughed. "Don't be. You excite me."

"I hope so," I said, "because I'm turned on as fuck right now, but you'll have to give me some guidance."

"I'm sure you'll need less than you think," Emma said. She began to slide her body slowly against mine. "This is a pretty good way to start." Then she joined her lips to mine and began to rock her hips in earnest.

Emma's breasts rolled against mine. The changing pressure set up an erotic current within me, and the firmness of the core of her breasts against mine compared to the soft surround was an exciting contrast. And the way they rippled made me want to stare at them.

When had I started to find someone else's breasts enticing?

Emma took my hands in hers, lacing her fingers into mine and pressing them against the bed, so only the thrusting of our hips kept us moving. She responded quickly to that motion. Her breathing was rapid, and she grunted into the shared kiss. The way our bodies shifted against each other became sharper. Her mouth bore down on mine, and I responded with pressure against her lips, sucking her tongue, which made her moan more loudly.

My eyes were open as we kissed, and the bouncing of her breasts fascinated me. Even squashed against mine as they were, the increasing drive of her body against mine made them ripple and quiver.

My own heart was racing, both from the thrusting of her body against my sex, and the erotic effect of her passion. I was also moaning into the kiss when Emma panted, and then moaned strongly, her thighs tensing around mine, suddenly pressing even harder into me.

I was so close to my own release that I returned the pressure, grunting in excitement, then followed her into orgasm, my groans seeming to prolong Emma's pleasure.

 

When we'd both subsided to heavy breathing, Emma rolled off me. Then she smiled. "I wasn't expecting this," she said.

"Oh, come on," I said. To show I was griping without malice, I turned onto my side to face her, then began to trace lines on her belly with my fingers. "You've been touching me up for a couple of weeks now, without hoping you'd weaken my resolve?"

I licked my fingers and began to play with her breast. Her nipples were pale pink, where mine were dark, and her right nipple seemed fairly soft as I touched it.

"Hope and expectation are different," she said, after a pause. "I can't say I haven't wanted to fuck you, but I didn't think it was going to happen, and I was content to get the straight girl horny and leave her frustrated."

"I'm just the straight girl, am I?"

"You're whatever you want to be," she said, "but I don't think you're frustrated."

"Got that right," I admitted.

Emma grinned at me, then took my fingers from her breast and sucked my fingertips, which gave me a pleasing shiver. Then she eased herself into a sitting position before turning to straddle my right thigh, squatting with her feet beneath her.

I wasn't sure what she was trying to do, but went along with her positioning, as she lifted my left leg and worked her knee under it. Then as she eased her body forwards, I realized she was positioning her sex directly against mine. I had to roll slightly, since her right leg was holding my left hip off the ground, but supporting myself on my elbows wasn't uncomfortable.

Emma leaned back, arms extended behind her, her right arm supporting my raised left leg, and pressed another inch or two forward, so her body supported mine entirely, while her sex was pressed to mine.

Then she began to rock her hips.

Emma's pussy grinding against mine was exciting, but it took a minute or two for me to realize just how powerful the stimulation was. The only thing that had ever come close to the depth and speed of her body rubbing directly on my clit was her fingers on me. No guy inside me had ever affected my clit like this, and while Emma's caressing it had turned me on like nothing before, there was something about the motion of our two bodies that was the perfect blend of humping and direct clit stimulation that was driving my arousal harder and faster than I could have believed.

Emma seemed to be responding much like I was, gasping with excitement. And her movements were quick and sharp, which made her breasts bounce and ripple. My eyes were glued to them as they swayed and shook, pink nipples erect in quaking, supple mounds.

"Oh God," I croaked, "I'm going to come again."

"Yah..." Emma groaned. She panted rapidly before she could add, "Me, too."

My rapid moans were getting louder and less controlled. "Nnh... nnh... nnh..." And then the tsunami hit home, and I cried out as my orgasm ripped through me. My body continued to move against Emma's, I think more from my inability to change anything about my activity than from any conscious choice.

Emma's lips were parted in an expression that appeared to be of pain, and her belly was quivering as her clit shook against mine, then her eyes opened wide, and the pained look became a wide, joyful smile, and she sighed.

We both took a long time to slow our movements, and even when the pulsing of my orgasm had finally ceased, the feel of her sex against mine was exhilarating.

When Emma lay back down on top of me, we wrapped our arms around each other and kissed passionately, rolling around on the mattress until we'd both calmed down some.

 

When we separated I hunted down my pajamas in the low light. "I should go," I said.

Emma made a show of pouting, but she didn't try to stop me. She did reach out a hand and caress the side of my face. "That was wonderful," she said.

I could feel the smile on my face as I replied. "It was."

 

When Emma joined me at the breakfast table in the morning, she looked as nervous as I felt. "So, that happened," I said, as she took her first sip of coffee.

"Yeah," she agreed.

"Do we need to talk?" I asked.

"Probably," she said. "I wasn't expecting it."

"You said," I agreed. "Neither was I. Do we just try to ignore it for the sake of not screwing up a decent living arrangement?"

"What do you mean?"

"If we pretend it never happened," I said, "and promise ourselves it won't happen again, then we don't have to have some awkward conversations."

"Like, what do you tell your boyfriend?" Emma suggested.

"Nah." I shook my head. "That's over either way. Even if I could lie to him about what I've done, I wouldn't want to go back to what we had. I'd be more inclined to take Margot up on her offer than that."

"Really?" she asked.

I shrugged. "I didn't say it was likely, just more likely. I'm thinking more about what does it mean to us? Has anything changed? How do I feel about Mondays? How would you feel if I'm with someone?"

"Like Margot?" Emma asked, dryly.

"Whoever," I countered. "My point is, right now, I don't think it necessarily matters. I'm not emotionally invested, but if I want to stay that way I think we need to pull back. No more bed sharing, not even for funtime fingering."

Emma took a sip of her coffee, then stared at it for a time. Her curls had fallen forward, so I couldn't really see her face. After a time, she asked, "Do you think of us as friends, or just as roomies?"

"Friends," I said. I didn't need to hesitate. Margot's question had already had me considering the situation. We'd become too comfortable around each other to be less than friends.

"That's the higher stakes component for me," she said. "I want to stay friends, but that means I have to be honest. So I have to say that I'm already emotionally invested."

"Last night you said you wanted to fuck me," I said.

"It's true," she agreed. "I've wished things could be different. If you'd not been straight, I'd have asked you out. I wouldn't have offered to help with your frustrations if I hadn't thought of you as a friend, but it was being attracted to you that gave me the biggest kick."

"Because I'm straight," I said. "The lure of the unattainable."

Emma shook her head. "I don't think so."

"But if we could gloss over last night, I think we could still be friends," I said.

She looked unhappy. "Is that what you want?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "Before last night..." I thought about what I wanted to say. "Before last night, I had some serious lust for what you could do to me, but it was for the result, not for you. Now..." I looked up at her and felt a stirring deep within me. "I want to go to your room and rip your clothes off." After a second, I added, "No, I want to go to your room and undress you slowly."

I felt my face warm at the admission, and Emma's knowing grin seemed to be trying to make its appearance.

"Not as straight as you thought, maybe?" she suggested. "But that makes it even harder for me to pretend nothing happened, because I can't pretend you couldn't be interested."

I sighed. "The thing is, last night messed with my head," I said. "What if we go further down that path, and it turns out I'm not really into you, just the great feelings and novelty value? Don't you deserve better than that?"

"You mean like bringing someone here who I don't care about and who I barely speak with again?"

"Good point," I admitted. "But then, you can choose to avoid them, or not. What if you don't care about me any more than them? You can't avoid me the same way."

"Now you're being perverse," Emma objected. "I already told you that I'd have asked you out, if I thought it might be an option. I have had relationships before."

"Is that what we have?" I asked. "A relationship?"

"I think we could have," she said. Her expression was serious, without a trace of her smirk. "Beyond being friends, I mean. And I think you think we could, which is why you're raising so many reasons why we shouldn't."

I thought for a moment, then sighed. "You may be right."

"What you're saying, I think," Emma continued, "is that we can avoid any implications of what we did last night, and we'll both be okay, and we'll avoid getting closer, but we can still be friends. It's the safe option. Or we can see where last night leads, and have something worthwhile, but we risk clawing each other's eyes out and losing this..." she glanced around the small kitchen. "This luxury accommodation."

I snorted. "When you put it like that..." I said.

"When I put it like that," she suggested, the knowing grin returning in full force, "you want to risk taking me to my room and undressing me slowly."

"Yeah," I said, my voice suddenly unsteady. "Except I have to get to school."

"Tonight?" she offered.

I rose to take my coffee cup to the sink. "If nothing else," I said, "we're going to have to figure out how to not let any relationship screw up our degrees."

 

Emma was late home that evening. She found me sitting watching TV. I don't recall what the show was. I just turned it on and turned off my brain.

"Did you eat?" she asked, brightly.

I nodded.

"OK, me too," she said. "So, do... oh, shit, Tiff, what's wrong?" she asked, after I looked up.

"Nothing unexpected," I replied. "I called Cam."

She took the other chair. "That was quick."

"I wanted to get it over with. I knew it would be painful, but I didn't want to break up by text."

"He didn't take it well?"

I felt anger break through my despondency. "He was a complete ass. He was upset, which I understood, and he wheedled, which I expected, but then he started demanding to know who 'he' was who I was leaving him for, because he was going to fucking kill him. I told him that wasn't it at all, which is mostly true, but he didn't believe me."

Emma rose, then came to stand beside my chair. She reached out to squeeze my shoulder and I rested my head on her arm. "I'm sorry," she said.

"When I say that wasn't it, I don't mean he got the gender wrong," I said. "I mean that I realize that there are reasons other than sex that I needed to break up with him. He's inconsiderate and selfish in other areas. After spending time with you, that's so clear in contrast. So there was someone else, but not in the way he's thinking."

"You don't see him changing?" Emma asked.

"No, I really don't," I said.

"Hope he doesn't come down here to find out who you're with," she said.

"He won't," I responded. "That would be too much effort."

"Well, it's done," she said. "Good job for having the courage."

I gave her a quick grin. "Anyway, then I called Mom," I said. "She and Cam are pretty close, so I figured I needed to tell her before he did. Sure enough, five minutes into the call she got a call from him. I think she'll believe me, but I may not be quite out of the woods."

"How are you feeling now?" Emma asked.

"Drained," I said. "I needed to study, but I'll do it tomorrow when I'm not feeling so down."

"Is there anything I can do to help? I could go get some ice cream from the convenience store."

"Hmm, maybe," I replied. "Something sweet might lift my spirits."

She took her hand back from my shoulder. "Give me twenty minutes, and ... umm?"

I had grabbed the hem of her tee shirt and held it, preventing her from turning as I stood. "No ice cream," I said. "That's not the kind of sweet I had in mind."

Emma actually blushed at the comment. "Oh, if it's like that, I can definitely help," she said.

"Your room?" I asked. "I'd invite you to mine, but..."

"Of course," she said. "Go make yourself comfortable while I take my eyes out."

"Okay," I said, releasing her tee so she could head to the bathroom.

The bed was rolled up against a wall. I wasn't sure if I could figure out how to arrange it on the floor, but it turned out to be straightforward, and I had it arranged when she returned, eyes wrinkled as she did when she couldn't see.

"Do you need your glasses?"

She shook her head. "Stay close and I won't."

I took the hem of her tee shirt and began to raise it. "I'm planning on staying close."

Emma lifted her arms to let me take the shirt off. I set it down, then ran my fingers over her waist, drawing her close. "Looking forward to seeing you this evening was the one bright spot. I don't think I'd have summoned the courage to call Cam if it hadn't been for that."

I moved my face to hers. She parted her lips in anticipation, and we kissed lightly.

When we separated, she rested her wrists on my shoulders and looked into my eyes. Her voice was soft. "What happened to having no emotional investment?"

"I guess I started the day thinking about how much I want you," I said, "which led me to start thinking about how much I just liked being around you, and that got me considering that you'd brighten up the day when I saw you, so I called Cam. I think there just might be some feelings involved."

She smiled. "Let's back up to how much you want me."

"Okay," I said. I leaned forward, reached around her back and unsnapped her bra.

She grinned and lowered her arms, allowing me to slip the straps over her shoulders and toss it onto her tee shirt.

I looked at the treasures I'd uncovered, the pale nipples on paler skin, quivering as she moved. I tugged lightly on her nipples. "How is it that boobs suddenly turn me on?" I asked. "I've never had a thing for them before."

Emma licked her parted lips."I'd be willing to bet that yours always have," she said, "and you've just made the connection that they're just as important to someone else's sexual response. You're waking to new experiences, and breasts are a part of your world now. Others' breasts, that is."

Then, as I kept caressing her breasts, she lowered her hands to unfasten my shorts, which fell to the floor. I turned my attention to unfastening her jeans, and soon we both stood in underwear, with nothing else in Emma's case, and a loose white tee in mine.

Emma lowered herself to the bed, and I followed, kissing her until we were both breathless. Then I divested her of her panties, and caressed her pussy lips.

Her breathing grew heavy, and our kisses deeper. I sought her tongue and sucked it into my mouth as I slid two fingers into her and began to move them around, trying to learn the motions she liked. I recalled how good it had felt when she pressed against the wall of my sex, so I curled my fingers forward and began to rock my wrist against her.

Emma began to groan, and her body rocked against my hand.

Keeping up the motion, and keeping pressure on my hand, I slid down her body and began to kiss her breasts. She moaned softly as my tongue explored her nipple, then I felt fingers twisting into my hair, holding me to her chest. Excited by her response, I moved my legs closer to her, pressing my pussy to her thigh, my arousal boosted by both her movements and my own.

As her back arched, I saw Emma's free hand squeeze her other breast. Her finger and thumb tightened on her nipple, twisting and tugging at it. She squirmed under me, making strangled sounds as she held her breath. Her thigh rubbed against my sex, and the erotic sensation grew within me. She gasped, breathed in again, and writhed as she held her breath again, lifting her face against my lips.

Then she shuddered and began to pant. I could feel her sex twitching around my fingers, and I slowed the rocking of my hand.

Emma's hand left her breast, taking my hand and easing my fingers out of her. She lifted my hand to her lips, then sucked the fingers which had been inside her. The sensations her tongue brought me making my own breathing heavy, and I ground my sex against her thigh in pleasure.

When she released my fingers I lifted my face from her breast. "How was that?" I asked.

"Great," she said. "Really great. Couldn't you tell?"

"I just want to be sure I'm doing okay," I said. "I'm new to this."

"More than okay," she said.

"And, God, doing that to you made me so wet," I said.

"Then I think it's time you were naked too," Emma stated. She reached for my tee, and I raised my arms to let her pull it over my head. Then she pushed me down onto my back and lay on me.

Emma's lips traced a line from my neck down to my left breast, which she suckled, making my body twist beneath her as her mouth sent ripples of passion down to my clit. I was already so turned on by what I'd been doing to her that I couldn't lie still, but groaned at the stimulation. I felt my clit swell, amplifying and deepening the sensations.

Wrapping my legs around her thighs I drew myself against her belly, grinding my hips into her, while Emma pinched my right breast as she suckled the left.

After a time, she rolled to the side, forcing me to move my feet back to the bed as she removed my panties. Parting my legs, she moved back onto me, low enough to probe my navel with her tongue. Then she moved yet lower.

Oh, God, she was going to go down on me. And I couldn't imagine anything I'd ever wanted more.

I felt her fingers slide into me, and I moaned as she tapped them on the inside of my sex. Each touch made my thighs tense as a wave of desire flowed out.

And then her tongue touched me, and I stopped breathing for a moment. Then my breath came out in a rush and my hips rose from the bed. Her fingers moved firmly within me, but her tongue just rested against my clit, so that my rocking against her hand dragged my swollen clit against her firm tongue and made me whimper with need.

When I couldn't contain the arousal, I began to pant, feeling my clit begin to tense as the energy within it built toward overload. I felt my lips stretch into a smile as I approached the crest...

And Emma drew back her tongue and relaxed her fingers. I wriggled on the bed, trying to push myself the rest of the way, but she didn't give me the chance. I whimpered as the tension in my clit came so close to breaking, then slowly, slowly, drawing me back from the edge.

"Oh God, Emma," I pleaded. "I need to come."

In response, she licked my clit, enough to send an electric charge throughout my body, but not enough to move me toward climax.

"Please," I begged again, but I was getting further from the peak, and I couldn't get there without Emma's help. I even reached down and tried to touch my clit, getting my fingers under her face, but she pushed me aside.

Then her fingers started pressing against me, and her tongue began to move. I breathed a sigh of relief, and was soon approaching the point of ecstasy. "Oh God, yes..." I groaned. "Yes!"

And again, she let me down. I struggled to reach the end, trying to press my sex to her lips, but again, she denied me. "Emma!" I groaned. "Please!?"

The sensation in my clit was almost painful. It seemed to waver on the point of readiness, occasionally pulsing with stimulation that promised to bring me back to the edge, but it didn't last, and I groaned at the realization that after each pulse, I sank further back, away from the release I desperately needed.

Emma tormented me with occasional flicks of her tongue that promised glory, but gave me nothing but a fleeting flash. My heart was racing, and it didn't slow down even during the frustration she inflicted on me.

When her tongue began to lap at my clit again, I whined, "Please, Emma! I need..." Her fingers pressed firmly to the wall of my sex, and she moved her hand.

My overworked clit took longer to make the climb than it had. The energy was slow to build. It seemed to be several minutes before the seemingly inexorable rise to my crest was underway. Emma had proven that it wasn't inexorable, though. She was going to take it away from me again. I lifted my hips to press my sex to her mouth, and tried to will myself over the edge.

Except that she didn't, and suddenly I was there, and couldn't have prevented the outcome if my life depended on it, and Emma couldn't have slowed it down, but she didn't even try. Instead, she flicked her tongue against my clit rapidly, her fingers pressing hard against the inner wall, and my whole body convulsed as my frustrated clit wreaked vengeance on the forces that held it back.

I tried to moan, but I didn't seem to be breathing, and the sound stopped in my throat. Several waves of pleasure so sharp that it seemed on the edge of pain broke within me before I could exhale. Then, suddenly free, I panted for breath, pulses of intense feeling still washing into me, gradually becoming more manageable.

Emma continued to caress my clit with her tongue, even after my climax had subsided. My body should have been settling back to normal, but holding off my crest as long as she had seemed to have confused it, and her tongue against my clit continued to excite me. There was no urgent need now, just pleasure that wasn't diminishing.

In fact it seemed to be growing. Then I gasped in surprise as I felt myself suddenly climbing. My back arched as my clit's sensitivity rekindled, and I recognized the unstoppable force of an orgasm bearing down on me. "Oh God..." I cried out as my clit erupted in pleasure, and another climax ripped through me.

Still, Emma didn't quit, and again, the pleasure her tongue and fingers induced barely dwindled, my whole body alive with the after-effects of pleasure, when I felt myself rising to another crest.

I climaxed again, my body seeming to dissolve in pleasure as I lost control, my moans soft with each gasping breath.

After this third crest, I felt my overstimulated clit finally begin to lose its extreme sensitivity. Emma seemed to sense this. When she realized she wasn't going to lure me into a fourth, she lifted her face, before crawling back up the bed and collapsing onto me, her head resting on my shoulder, apparently as exhausted as I was.

I ran my hands over her back and squeezed her butt. "You're a jerk," I whispered.

"Hmm? What do you mean?" she said.

"You tormented me for such a long time! That was so unfair," I said.

She laughed. I felt her boobs quiver against my chest, just below mine.

"Maybe I should talk to Margot after all," I said. "Maybe she wouldn't torture me."

She laughed again. "Wasn't it worth it?"

I slapped her butt. "That's beside the point! You were mean! I thought my head was going to explode!" After a moment, I added, "The explosions that did happen were quite good, though."

She lifted her head at that, and I looked down, seeing an amused look on her face. Below, her breasts were just below mine. "Quite good?"

"I can't tell you how good it was, or you'll torment me again next time," I said.

She lay her head on my shoulder again. "I told you, I'm a master of edging."

"Even so," I murmured, "I can't believe I came back-to-back like that. Three times! God!"

"We'll try for five next time," she said, and I shivered.

 

This time I didn't go back to my room. Neither of us suggested it. In the morning, I woke up beside Emma, and as I studied her sleeping face, I realized that that's where I wanted to be. I was emotionally invested now, for sure.

I'd thought I was in love with Cam a couple of years ago. Maybe I had been, but I now realized that I hadn't for quite some time. The loss had been masked by habit and by continuing to sleep together. If I were to fall in love again, it wouldn't be a rebound, because I had nothing to rebound from.

And I wasn't in love with Emma. But for the first time, I realized that it had become a possibility. Such a thing would have been alien to me just a few days earlier. Now it seemed natural. My affection for her was real, and becoming internalized, rather than something I realized occasionally when I looked at her. My comfort with her company was growing. Love seemed like it might become a natural consequence now, and that didn't scare me.

If I were to fall, would Emma? Could she? Did she see me as just the straight girl she could lead astray, or as someone she could have feelings for when the shiny new relationship lost its sparkle of uniqueness? Having sex with her had been amazing from my point of view, but was it from hers? I had no idea how well what we had would measure up to her much more extensive experience.

We hadn't dated. We knew each other casually, were comfortable around each other, and liked each other, but we really didn't know how compatible we were out of bed. I felt that so many things could go wrong before we had a chance to see where our relationship could go.

 

I decided to make coffee before my run, so I eased myself off the futon, trying not to wake the girl beside me, then threw my tee shirt and panties back on and headed for the kitchen.

I must have not been as quiet as I thought. Emma came through to the kitchen before the water had started bubbling. "Hey," she said, her voice rough with sleep.

"Hey yourself," I said.

"Are you feeling better this morning?" she asked.

It took me a moment to remember how down I'd been the previous day after calling Cam. "Oh, yeah," I said. I took a couple of cups from the cupboard. The coffee pot was spitting nicely. "Last night's therapy session made all the difference."

I wasn't looking at her, but I heard the smile in her voice. "I'm glad," she said. "Maybe we should have regular sessions to keep your spirits up."

"Depends if you start charging for them," I said. The machine was close enough to ready, so I took out the pot and poured two coffees. "I'm thinking about not going home after the semester."

"Oh? Why's that?" Emma asked. Then she added "Thanks," as I set the coffee down for her.

"I don't want to risk running into Cam. Mom might tell him when I plan to be around. I'll go there for a weekend to surprise her, but then come back."

"I might stay too," Emma said, "if you'd be okay with it."

"Of course I would," I said.

We drank our coffee in companionable silence for a minute or two. Then I said, "Umm, there is one thing I'd like to ask."

"What's that, Tiff?"

"Do you... do you plan to still go to the club on Mondays?"

"I was planning to, yeah," she said.

My heart fell. I had hoped she wouldn't, but she did have her own needs. I supposed it was too much to think I could keep her satisfied.

"Okay," I said, trying to avoid sounding too disappointed. "That's okay. I just... wanted to be clear."

She was watching me with that knowing smirk again. "Oh, Tiff, your face!" she said, after a moment.

"What about my face?" I asked, indignantly.

She smiled. "I want to go to the club with you," she said. "You'll enjoy it. There's dancing, usually a live band, great people... drinking, but only soft drinks for you and me. They have to take the drinking age more seriously than other college bars. You and I have never gone out together, and it would be a good place for us to start dating."

"You want me to come to a gay club?"

She grinned. "It's an everything club. It isn't exclusively gays and lesbians; it's just more accepting than most places. I have friends there, and I'd like to introduce them to my girlfriend."

My heart lurched again, but in the opposite direction. "Girlfriend?" I repeated.

Emma just watched me, her slight smile on her face.

"Yes," I said. "I'd like that. I'd like that a lot."