“Whatever,” she said. Under the quilt, she scraped at me with her toes. “I’m just, I’m not like you. I’m not assertive. I could never be with Tom.” She pursed her lips.
Something in the way she said it sent my senses to tingling. So I pressed her. “What do you mean by that?”
The look she gave me was open, slightly quizzical. There wasn’t a little bit of slyness in it either. She brushed her lips with her finger. “Well, I mean, you and Tom…”
“What about me and Tom?” I said.
She licked her lips, trying to put into words what was bubbling inside her mind. “I… At that party, with the UPenn guy, when Bobby was in town. I was going to go to the backyard. I was upstairs and I saw Tom down there. But then I saw you go out there. I’m sorry,” she said. She meant it. I could see the sadness in her eyes, but also the honesty, the resignation. “I don’t remember if you guys touched each other at all but he gave you this look that just…” She shook her head. “Tom’s never looked at me like that. I’ve never seen him look at anybody like that.”
She shrugged. “I just guessed that there was something going on. I don’t know what. But I wasn’t surprised. Tom’s strong. He needs somebody strong.” The look on her face nearly broke my heart. “Someone like you,” she said.
“No,” I said, shaking my head. But even as I said it I found myself disbelieving it. “I don’t feel strong, anyway. If you saw that, why didn’t…? You never said anything.”
Allison laughed to the ceiling. “Well, duh, who was I going to tell? Bobby? Uh, no, I don’t think so.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because I love you, ho,” she said. “I don’t know what freaky shit you’re getting up to but you’re my friend. And I always thought Bobby was really nice but really, uh…” She looked aside.
“What?” I said, not sure if I was in a better mood or nervous.
“I don’t know. But, you know how Tom’s not my type? Well, Bobby never really struck me as your type. Or mine,” she added.
“What’s wrong with him?”
“Oh, God, I don’t know!” she said, the laughter breaking out of her. “He kind of reminds me of Ryan, like, the sex was great and he’s in the money but if I had to honestly sit down and picture myself married to him, eep, I dunno. I just don’t know.”
“The sex wasn’t great.”
“Liar.”
She had me there. “Well,” I said, “maybe it was great at first but when there’s something better…” It was my turn to turn red. “Fuck.” I thought of Tom telling me to dress in the loose top, telling me to imagine him as my tennis coach, telling me to wear the apron. I thought of the way I dominated Bobby, the power I’d had there. Did Tom dominate me? Yes, but there was a mutual channel there, something I’d always been unsure of, never certain until the end how aggressive I could allow myself to be, when he, after all, was the one paying. A little bit of moisture crept into my panties.
“So was there something, with you and Tom?”
I didn’t want to lie to her now. “Yes,” was all I said. “But I think… that’s over too. Maybe.”
“Do you like him?”
“Yes,” I said. I had drifted, but I came back to myself, and to her. “I’m sorry.”
Allison shook her head. “I told you, I’m not his type, and it would never have worked with us. You, maybe.”
“Honestly,” I said, “I don’t know if I should be with anyone right now, either of them, anyone. I’m just, I’m just upset and I’m… horny, and…” I sighed, half-laughing, half-sobbing. “God, it’s been a bad month. I fucking hate my job, too, but what are you going to do?”
Allison waved her hand. “Hey, at least you have a job. I’m still an ‘actress,’ I think, living with my parents.”
“So am I,” I said.
“Yeah, but…” Allison tried to put her words together. “No, I guess you’re right. We’re both fucked. And horny. So not fucked, or fucking.” She made a face and stuck out her tongue before I could chastise her for her poor semantics. Instead I laughed and grabbed for her breast under the quilt.
“Is that an invitation?” I asked. “Do you want me to feel your pain?”
Allison batted me away but didn’t put too much effort into it. “Ow! Stop, stop. As if!”
“You can’t resist me,” I teased her. “I’m going to eat you up.” I pushed forward while she fought my hands and laid a big wet kiss on her mouth. She was laughing too hard to make it a proper kiss, and we tumbled back on the couch. Allison grabbed my wrists and held me at bay, but our knees got tangled and we wrestled for dominance, with Allison ending up on the bottom but her strong legs wrapping under my thigh and over the hip on my left side.
“Mm, being eaten up sounds good,” said Allison. “Too bad you’re full of ice cream.”
I continued to be silly, relieved to have an outlet, and a friend, more grateful for that than anything in the world. “Ice cream was for dinner,” I told her. “I’m still hungry for dessert.”
“As if,” Allison said again. She squeezed her legs so that I was trapped tighter against her. The position of our jeans meant that my middle was brought right up against hers. I couldn’t deny that the sudden friction gave me another little tingle down there.
I fell on top of her, letting our combined weight drag us down. The quilt was tangled in between us but it was tough to say who was pinned to who. I planted another kiss on Allison, this time with less resistance, or laughter. All she did was smile when I kissed her. Surprisingly, she leaned in for another kiss. Our lips connected. It was a chaste, tight little kiss. Not as friendly as it was polite.
I stared down at Allison. Her dirty blonde, almost brown hair, was fanned out below her on the couch, framing her face like a sunburst. The light caught it and made it shine a little. Her pale face was flushed in her cheeks, her lips like two little roses. I watched her eyes, and she watched mine in turn, studying. It was very quiet for what seemed like a long time, and then, softly, I crawled forward. Allison had to loosen her legs a little for it to happen, and under the quilt the sounds of fabric on fabric, rustling, accompanied my tentative squirm, on top of her. I leaned down and slipped my lips over hers.
She opened her mouth, and our tongues, like shy animals, peeked out and tasted each other. She tasted like ice cream.
Allison sighed quietly. I locked the kiss, placing my mouth tightly over hers and plunged my tongue deeper. She hadn’t expected it; her eyes showed as much, wide suddenly, and then, dreamily, closed. I reached up to caress her cheek. Her hand stroked my wrist.
I don’t know which one of us moved first, but our hips gently fell into a calm, almost imperceptible rhythm. That is, I’m sure it wasn’t too perceptible from the outside. I’m sure both of us perceived it, as the denim between us sent zig zags of friction up and down my belly.
I kissed her chin, and eased down to her throat. A little bubble of laughter, more surprised and mischievous than a giggle, squirmed out of her mouth. Allison quietly pushed the quilt down, trying to untangle it between us. I leaned back and let her disentangle her legs from mine. Together we pulled up the quilt from where it had wedged between the sofa cushions. And dropping it on the floor, she laid back, and watched me with silent curiosity.
I drifted down to her belly and rolled her shirt up. I kissed her bellybutton, the way Tom would have, flicking my tongue into it and tasting the fresh soap and lotion on her skin. Allison liked that. She squirmed underneath me and reached for the hem of her shirt, pulling it up.
She wasn’t wearing a bra, and on her back her big breasts jiggled like melted Hershey kisses. Pale chocolate kisses with bright red tips. Her thick nipples were erect and I realized, taking a moment to take stock of how wet I’d suddenly become, that mine were too. I helped her slide the shirt off her arms and kissed her again. Quickly, I popped her nipple in my mouth. And Allison let out a husky moan.
Just when I was dragging my fingers softly over her bare breasts, she reached with her other hand and tugged my shirt up. Together we got it off me. I leaned in close to her to let her get the snaps on my bra.
When I rose off of her the black bra slid over my arms. She dropped it on the quilt, where our shirts both resided. It was strange, looking down at Allison from that position. My breasts, heavy, were scooped up into her palms. Allison watched them, still with the curious expression, let my nipples softly glide over her palms. She enjoyed balancing them, feeling their weight. Holding them, with a very light squeeze, she looked up and smiled at me.
“They do feel different,” she said.
I nodded, dragging a fingertip over her buxom cleavage. “I’ve been really horny…”
“Is Tom good?”
I nodded.
Allison reached up to take my face. She pulled me down on the couch, her mouth a hot, wet invitation. We squirmed against each other, kissing and reaching, both of us working to undo each other’s pants. “This isn’t working,” she said. “Get up.”
We both stumbled to our feet. Clumsily, we ran our hands down each other’s backs. I found myself unbuttoning Allison’s pants, even as she unbuttoned mine. Our zippers slid down simultaneously, and we were suddenly giggling, like bad kids knowing full well how much trouble we were going to get into. “I was thinking about this in the shower,” Allison confessed. She stepped behind me to help me drag my pants down my legs.
“Really?”
She kissed my hip as she slid her hands to my knees. “You’ve had this nervous little energy for a while now,” she said. “I mean, I wasn’t going to… to do anything. But I had this image, when I was soaping your back.”
I dragged her pants down and helped her step out of them. The panties were next.
Allison grabbed my head and brought me to her waist. My mouth and nose were pressed into the fine cotton of her underwear. I smelled soap, but I smelled much more than that. It wasn’t a mystery what we were going to do. I kissed her over the material. Allison gave a little groan.
“Are you really?” she gasped, “Are you really – still hungry?” I pulled the panties down her thighs. Between my legs, I had begun to sweat in earnest. “Oh my God,” Allison said softly. “Katie… Please kiss me, honey.”