Eighteen
S he points to the door behind her, and then we practically sprint the whole way there. I chuckle to myself, but my palms are sweating.
Are we really going to do this?
The dark room casts half her body in shadow, the light from the hallway lighting the expanse of her tan legs as she sits on the bed. She crosses them at the knee as the mattress dips under her weight, exposing more of the skin beneath her thigh. Every breath comes out harder the longer I stare at her. Anticipation heats my skin, warming me from the inside out as I wonder what she’ll do next. Will she start by undressing the rest of the way, or wait for my direction?
But just below the excitement thrumming through my veins is anxiety, making my hands shake. What if I’m not good at this? It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if my fantasies were meant to be just that— fantasies . As curious as I’ve been about what sex with another person would be like, I’ve never felt unsatisfied by what only I can give myself. I don’t need sex to have a fulfilling relationship with someone. What does it mean that I may want it anyway?
“I’m not sure what to do.” Krystal gives a nervous laugh that deflates all the tension in my shoulders. “Is this a good position to start in?”
“If you’re comfortable,” I say, and she tells me she is. “This is a bit weird, isn’t it?”
“No.” She shakes her head after thinking a moment. “I’d say it’s new, but not weird. It’s normal for something we’ve never done before to take some adjusting.”
I’m relieved she feels that way. It makes me less anxious about moving forward. She’s right. There doesn’t have to be anything weird about this. It’s… an adjustment. It’s us getting to know each other in a new way.
“You’re right.” I let out a breath, easing a shoulder against the doorway. “This is… new. It’s okay if there are a few bumps at first. We’ll get through them.”
“You say stop, we stop,” she says.
“And vice versa,” I add, and she nods. “Well, in that case, I have a couple ideas to get us started.” Her eyes go dark, and her thighs clench tighter. “Lie back on the mattress.”
She does as I say, settling herself higher on the bed. Her hair fans over the pillow, dark curls I ache to sink my fingers into.
“Good.”
I let my eyes skate over her body. The curves of her waist, her thick thighs, her flushed skin. I imagine what she’d look like beneath the last remaining layers, how her hands would move over her body, the kind of sounds she’d make.
“Take off your bra.”
The thin material slides off her chest before falling to the floor. It doesn’t matter that I could practically see everything through her bra. Without it, she’s a fucking masterpiece. She arches her back, pushing her breasts forward and smirking at how dumb my face must look right now.
Breathe, Angela.
“Like what you see?”
“Uh…” I have no idea what the right response to that is, so I settle for a nod. Then I let out an awkward laugh, resisting the urge to cover my red cheeks with both hands. “You love embarrassing me, don’t you?”
“Only when it helps my ego.” Her smirk goes crooked.
“I’ll get you back for that,” I warn with a tsk. “I didn’t give you permission to talk.”
Her mouth closes, even as her eyes sparkle with intrigue.
“Panties next.” She does as I say, sliding them down her long legs, but not before I catch sight of the wet spot in the center of the fabric.
Fucking Christ, she’s as turned on by this as I am.
Her thighs close as soon as her underwear hits the floor, hiding that perfect view I almost got of her. Maybe it’s better this way. I shouldn’t be this close to combusting when we’ve barely even started.
“How do you feel?”
Her chest falls with a deep breath. “Good.”
“Comfortable?”
“Exposed,” she responds with a shaky laugh.
“Do you want to keep going?”
She nods, and even though I’d be more than happy to stop if that’s what she wanted, there’s no hiding the relief that washes over me.
“Close your eyes, pretty girl,” I tell her. “Imagine you’re alone.”
Her eyes flutter closed.
“It’s just you and the voice in your ear, guiding you.” She gives a subtle nod as if to herself. “I want you to run your hands down your body. Wherever feels nice. Your inner thighs, your stomach, your breasts.”
Her fingers drag up her full stomach, along her waist, up to her breasts. She uses both hands to pinch her nipples. A moan falls from her lips as her fingers work, teasing and pulling. So this is how she likes it. I’ll have to remember—
This is just practice , I remind myself. No matter how much my mind is already coming up with excuses for a repeat. But still, I can’t help but wonder if nipple-pinching is really what does it for her or if there’s something more that could help her along.
“Are you doing that for me? Pinching your nipples like that?” Her eyes flit open. “Or because it makes you feel good?”
“Does it matter?” She halts her movements. “This is your fantasy. This is about your pleasure.”
“Of course it matters,” I say. “My pleasure isn’t at your expense. It starts and ends with yours.”
“Oh… okay.” A flurry of emotions I can’t name cross her features before she finally gives in with a sigh and answers my first question. “It does sometimes. Usually not at my touch alone.”
“Okay.” I nod. “That’s good to know.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“How do you get off when you’re alone?”
“That, um…” She fidgets in place. “Requires a bit of battery-powered assistance.”
The thought of her using a vibrator is almost enough for me to see stars. I clear my throat, trying to look unaffected when an idea occurs to me. “Can you come without it?”
“I can,” she hedges, nose scrunching. “But it’s faster with a vibrator. I can’t remember the last time I just used my hand.”
“Interesting,” I say. “You’re used to getting your way, then. Used to getting off quick and easy at the touch of a button.”
She stares at me for a long beat. “I know what that evil smirk of yours means, Angel.”
Said evil smirk spreads wider. “Nothing angelic, that’s for sure.”
She hitches a breath as my hand closes around her ankle. It’s the most innocent part of her to touch, considering all the glorious naked skin splayed out before me. I use the pad of my thumb to stroke circles against the fragile bone on the outside of her ankle, reveling in the way her breathing sharpens at my touch.
“Hands where I can see them.” She raises her hands before setting them palm-up on the pillow above her head. The movement pushes her breasts up, and it’s taking all the willpower I possess to keep my eyes focused above her neckline. “I just want to look at you for a while. Is that okay?”
She nods shakily, staring up at the ceiling.
“Krystal.” My fingers skate up her calf as I come to the head of the bed. My hand closes on her chin, gently pulling her face down. “Eyes on me.”
I can’t read the emotion behind her eyes. Is it nerves, or is she just as scared as I am about what this will do to our friendship? This has to be crossing a line, even though we’re barely touching and one of us is fully clothed. But there’s no one I’d rather do this with than her, no matter the cost.
“Can you do that for me?”
She nods again, a deep breath sinking her chest. It’s a reminder for me to take one too. To loosen the tension in my shoulders, though it does nothing for how fast my heart is racing.
My eyes rake over her body, looking my fill. I can’t deny that this is doing all sorts of pleasurable things to me, though now I’m not sure how that ever could’ve been a question. If I stuck a hand down my shorts right now, it’d take three rubs max to make me come. Maybe less. If this was more than a test, if I was allowed to touch her past the boundaries we created, there’s no doubt this would be the best sex of my life. I’d want more from her—I’d want to do this again and again.
“Spread your legs for me.”
She does as I ask without a word, her thighs widening on the mattress until she’s baring herself to me. Through the dim light from the hall, I can see how wet she is. The evidence of how much her idea is working a little too well for both of us.
“Do you need to touch yourself?” She nods rapidly as she lets in a ragged breath. “Show me.”
She doesn’t waste time. Krystal goes straight for her slick folds, dragging a finger through her arousal before circling her clit. She lets out a soft little sigh that turns into a moan as her fingers move faster. Her back arches off the bed, and I know none of it is for show this time.
And it’s the hottest damn thing I’ve ever witnessed.
“Tell me when you’re close.”
“I’m close,” she breathes. “Oh god.”
“That quick, huh?” I can’t help the gravelly chuckle that comes out. “We can’t have that. Stop touching your clit.”
She does as I ask, but not without a whimper of protest. Her eyes stay on me, chest rising and falling fast with her quick breaths.
“Where’s your light switch?”
“What?” she asks, confused. “Please tell me we’re not done.”
“Don’t worry, Krystal. I’m nowhere near done with you,” I promise as I find the switch on the wall behind me. “I want to see you better. Is that okay?”
She nods and I flip the switch, filling the room with light. It’s almost too much, this unencumbered view of Krystal sprawled on the bedspread—the swirls of ink on her right upper arm, the sweat beading her skin, her flushed chest rising and falling with quick breaths. Her brown nipples are hard, beaded points, and for a moment all I can think of is what she said earlier about feeling good when other people touch them.
Would my fingers be enough, or would she need suction from my mouth? Is that something I want to do? Suck those hard nipples until she’s crying out for more? Work my way down her soft, needy body to her wet pussy?
Well, I’m certainly not opposed.
“You’re fucking perfect.”
The words slip past my lips unintentionally. That’s when I notice the agony twisting her features, the lower half of her body squirming, and I remember—
“Don’t just leave me hanging here.” She bites down on her bottom lip hard enough to leave teeth marks. “Angela, please.”
“Was there something you needed, pretty girl?”
“I need to touch myself,” she says desperately. “I was so close.”
“You can continue,” I tell her, and her sigh of relief fills the entire room. “But you’re not allowed to come yet.”
She makes a noise of dissent, but that doesn’t stop her from touching herself like I’ve allowed. It was one thing to watch her in the low light coming from the hall, but this— this —her fingers furiously working her clit, the way her lips form around a moan, the way her legs can’t stop shaking—
I. Will. Never. Recover.
“ Fuck. Angela.” I’ve never heard her voice this high before, but I’ve never seen her like this before either. Unraveling right before my very eyes. “Please. I’m so close again. I need to—”
“Stop.”
She squeezes her thighs together and rolls onto her side, biting into the fabric of the pillowcase to muffle a frustrated cry. I’d laugh if I wasn’t enduring a different form of tortured agony, all of my own making. There’s nothing I want more than to watch her orgasm, to unbutton my shorts and shove a hand down my panties and turn this into a mutual masturbation session.
“Something wrong?” I stare down at her with what I hope is a blithe look. She returns it with narrowed eyes and a disbelieving scoff.
“I’m giving you a new nickname after this,” she hisses. “Once I’m… thinking straight again. You’re no Angel.”
“Was there something you needed?” Her eyes bug out at me. “If there’s something you want, all you have to do is ask.”
She licks her lips and stares up at me. “I want to come, Angela.”
So do I.
It’s killing me, holding out for as long as I have. Edging isn’t normally a habit of mine, but I’m not ready to stop yet. I want to prolong the fantasy she’s brought to life for me for as long as I can, but that’s not the only thing motivating me. It’s a power trip, controlling Krystal’s pleasure like this. I’m already addicted to driving her to the edge just to take away her satisfaction and watch her keen for it. How much more can she take? How much longer can I put her through this?
“Hmmm,” I pretend to consider. “Beg me.”
She rolls her eyes heavenward.
“That’s not very nice of you, Krystal. There’s a time and place to be a brat.” I tsk. “And from the way you’re squirming, I don’t think you can handle any of the punishments I’ll come up with.”
She inhales, bites her lip down on any sassy remarks I’m sure she has teed up. From the way her blush deepens and eyes glitter, I know she likes this bossy side of me more than she’s saying.
“Angel, please.” Her voice turns into a whine I like the sound of way too much. “I need to come. Please let me come, Angel.”
“There’s that nickname you think I don’t deserve.” I smirk. “You must be desperate for an orgasm to please me like that. Since you asked so nicely, I’ll let you come… this time.”
She sighs in relief as her hand resumes its movement. It doesn’t take very long for her to work herself back up to that same frenzy, moaning and writhing at her touch. I shut my eyes, back against the wall, and gather the courage I need to pull down my shorts.
“Oh fuck .” I was right. Once I start touching myself, it doesn’t take long at all for me to fall over the edge. The tiny room is filled with the sound of our ragged breathing, and I’ve never heard anything hotter. I can’t catch my breath as the quickest orgasm of my life brings me to my knees.
“Oh my god,” Krystal finally says. “I can’t believe we just did that.”
That makes two of us.
“Me neither,” I agree, my voice still breathless. I’m tempted to join her on the bed, not for another round, but because it only seems natural to lay myself down beside her after what we just did. For her face to fill my vision as we exchange shy smiles, to make out the sweat glistening her reddened cheeks. Instead, I’m awkwardly kneeling at the foot of her bed trying not to stare at her naked body.
“Come here,” she says, and all that awkward tension releases from my shoulders as I’m flooded with relief. As I reach the bed, Krystal kicks at the duvet beneath her body and then sits up to cover us both with it. We’re turned toward each other, just how I wanted us to be, but there’s nothing shy about the way she’s smiling at me right now.
“Hi.” Her nose grazes mine, radiant smile filling my vision, and it’s even better than I imagined.
“Hi,” I say back, and I could almost laugh from how absurd this situation is. I’ve orgasmed in the same room as Krystal, but I’ve still never been kissed. “I guess that answers the question. I am most definitely graysexual and sex favorable.”
“Glad to be of service.” She mock-salutes me. “Feel free to use me as practice anytime you need, because oh my god was that amazing.”
I try to return her grin, but I can’t quite manage it over the sudden hollow feeling in my chest. Something about what she’s said doesn’t sit right with me.
Practice.
There’s nothing about the use of the word I can fault her for. It shouldn’t bother me, not when I agreed to let her enact one of my sexual fantasies as a test to gauge whether I’m sex favorable. Because that’s what this was, ultimately. That’s what we agreed to.
But thinking about what we did in those terms cheapens the whole experience for me. Like there’s nothing real between Krystal and me, when to me, what we just did solidifies my feelings for her. No matter how much I’ve tried to deny it. Would she have agreed to do this if she knew my feelings for her weren’t anywhere in the realm of friendly?
“God, I wish I could kiss you right now.” It takes a moment for what she’s just said to register. Then, every inch of my skin heats in a new way. In a way that has my heart beating into overdrive. Her fingers trail my cheek, smoothing the strands away from the side of my face.
There’s nothing I want more than that… and yet.
“Maybe giving up the scavenger hunt doesn’t have to be a bad thing,” she says. “We could… I don’t know. Keep doing what we did tonight. More, if you want.”
The thought of more with Krystal is too much to bear, because it’s never been clearer to me than right now that we have different definitions of the word.
I’m such an idiot.
Whatever Krystal feels for me, if anything, it can’t go anywhere. She’s made that clear from the start. It’d be fair enough if she didn’t want to fall in love, but I know the truth now. It’s not really about what she wants, but what she believes herself capable of. What her family and former friends think of her.
“In the name of practice, you mean.” I turn away from her, staring up at the ceiling.
“Sure.” The lightness in her tone grates on my nerves, even if it doesn’t take her very long to sense the distance between us. “Angela?” She places a hand on my shoulder, eyes widening when I flinch at the touch. A knee-jerk reaction I can’t hold back, thanks to all the thoughts burdening my brain. “Did I… What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” It’s such an obvious, bald-faced lie. I take in a deep breath, but it does nothing to calm me down. “I should probably head back.”
“You don’t have to,” she says, confusion scrunching her brows. “Unless… you want to?”
Good lord, we never should’ve done this. How can I possibly explain that the thought of us as “practice” is depressing enough for me to shut down as soon as the word left her mouth?
“I want to,” I say instead, because at least that’s the truth.
“I’ll drive you back.” I hate the disappointment in her voice almost as much as I hate myself for being the reason it’s there. For ruining what was almost a perfect night, all because I like her way more than I should.