We had known each other forever.

We couldn't even remember meeting. My mother says we were only three years old. I bet we were hatching schemes even then.

I do remember when we were seven. Clarissa - who was known as Rissa most of the time - and I had an in-depth discussion about how we hated boys. They smelled. They were stupid. We never wanted anything to do with any of them, and especially her repulsive brother. He was eight.

It took us six months, a whole heap of discussions, and an orchestrated intervention from my father to convince us we were wrong. Boys were alright, despite the smell. They weren't all stupid. Rissa's brother? He was still repulsive. Maybe more so.

We had, from our earliest memories, treated each other's houses like they were our own. There were distinct advantages to both places. Rissa and her brother lived in a big house. Lots of room, and nice stuff. I had the advantage of having no brother, but both parents. Rissa only had a mother. I never did find out quite what happened to her father, if she ever had one.

By the time we were eleven, the boy situation had moved from vague distrust to nervous anticipation. We'd even organised for some of the smelly things to attend my birthday party, and planned to try to kiss them. Just for practice, you understand. They ran away screaming, and that night when Rissa stayed over we kissed each other instead. We both agreed it wasn't so great.

We got older, and boys became more interesting. We kept each other up to date with anything that happened, but in fact it wasn't much. Boys smelled nice now, no doubt about it, but they weren't exactly accessible, it seemed. At least not the ones we were interested in.

Clarissa and I had developed a habit over the years. Most weekends, and often during the week, one of us would sleep over at the other's house. I think it was about even, though I recall spending a lengthy time at Rissa's place after I tasted her mother's pancakes. I was tempted to never go back home.

In any case, that particular weekend, Rissa came to stay with me. We had an unwritten rule. If it was hot, we'd sleep in separate beds. If it was cold, we'd cuddle together in one bed, and keep each other warm. I have no idea when or if we officially became a little old for that, but I do know we stopped telling people.

That weekend it was cold. Rissa generally wore a nightgown to bed. She had a few stored at my house as well as a supply at her own. I wore pyjamas. Long flannel things with childish pictures printed on them. In bright colours. Bite me. Rissa had managed to change and climb into bed first, and by the time I'd got my pyjamas on and brushed my teeth she was well settled, lying on her side with the blankets up around her neck. I piled in behind her, ignoring her protests, and took advantage of the warmth. Rissa soon realised there was something in it for her, because her mostly bare legs were cold compared to mine.

Comfortable and warm after a few minutes, I turned off the light, and we talked about things that had happened that day. Warm, comfortable, nothing things. And then, spooned like that, we both drifted off to sleep.

It was just after three AM when I woke up. I always look up and notice the time. I have no idea why. That's not what had woken me though. It was the movement.

I thought for a moment Rissa must have been having a dream. She was moving about, and her breathing was a little strange. I lifted my hand and put it on her hip, intending to wake her, or at least check she was okay, but the moment I touched her, the movement stopped. Her breathing slowly returned to normal, so I lay still, thinking it best that I let her sleep.

It took a little while, but after a few minutes with us both lying very still, she started to move again. I didn't do anything this time. Just lay there with my hand on her hip, listening, and feeling what she was doing.

I wasn't sure for a start, but eventually I thought I knew what was happening. I'd been doing it too, for a while by then, but not with Rissa in my bed. I wasn't sure then how I felt. I thought I should be disgusted. I was sometimes disgusted with myself, even though I'd been told it was normal. I wasn't disgusted though. I was interested. Intrigued. After a while, I was horny.

I could tell, without moving, how she was doing it. She was still lying on her side, facing away from me. Her buttocks were pressed lightly against me, and I could feel her nightie was pulled up around her waist. Her panties were still on though. She was either rubbing through them at the front, as I'd tried, or she had her hand down past the inside of the waistband. Her body was undulating slowly in front of me, her ass moving back and forth a little. She was obviously trying not to move too much, but as she got excited she was becoming a little less careful.

My mind was filled with an image of what her hands must be doing, and I knew from experience what she must be feeling. I was excited myself, and if there had been a way to do so without Rissa knowing, I would have had my own fingers between my legs in an instant. I was relieved too, in a way. We had never talked about this. I was worried that Rissa would think there was something wrong with me for doing it, and I never wanted her to disapprove of me.

I lay there a little longer, listening and feeling what she was doing, and then, against all common sense, I lifted my head, and kissed her on the back of the neck. She stopped moving instantly, and lay there, shaking, but trying to be still. I gave up pretending not to know.

"Rissa?" She didn't answer, but I felt her body stiffen. "Rissa? Talk to me."

"What? You woke me up, Jamie."

"I did not."

"Yeah. What do you want?"

"Nothing. I just... Well..." I didn't know what to say, so I kissed her neck again.

"What was that for?" She still faced away from me, and wouldn't move.

"It was just... So you know it's alright."

"What's alright?"

"You know."

"I do not."

"Do too."

"Jamie, what are you on about?"

"You know."

"Uh uh."

"Rissa, you weren't asleep."

"Well, maybe I woke up."

"Yeah, a while back."

"Could be."

"You did."

"Maybe. So what."

"Well, you were lying here..."

"Yeah?"

"Masturbating..." The word sounded strange in the quiet, whispered between us. "You were lying here masturbating. You were."

"I... No, I wasn't."

"You were so."

"I wasn't. I don't do that."

"Do too."

"I must have been having a dream."

"Must have been a nice one."

"Why?"

"Because, dearest friend, you had your hand in your panties."

"I did not!"

"You did. Don't lie to me. I'm right here behind you."

"Look, if I was – and I wasn't – then I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you... With my... Dream."

"Yeah, right. Rissa?"

"Uh huh?"

"It's alright. It's okay, you know. I... God, it's hard to say... I do it, too."

"You do?"

"Yeah. I'll fuckin' kill you if you tell anyone, Rissa. Best friend or not."

"I wouldn't do that. Look, maybe I do, sometimes. Maybe. But I wasn't."

"Were."

"Were not."

"You know, you don't have to stop. You could... Carry on."

"Oh, God, Jamie. I couldn't."

"Could. But listen, Rissa, you were, weren't you?"

She turned her head up and towards me. There were tears in her eyes. "I was. I know I shouldn't have been, but I was. Sorry Jamie."

"Don't be. I'm sorry I interrupted."

She lay her head down again without saying anything, and we pressed in close to each other again, not cold but needing the contact. We lay still then for a while, both knowing the other was still awake. I could feel Rissa's body pressing against me, and even though this must have been the millionth time, it was somehow different. Rissa must have been dripping wet and excited underneath the fear and embarrassment, and so was I now. We just lay there.

Eventually I realised that if anyone was going to speak, it was going to be me. I surprised myself though, with what I said.

"Rissa?"

"Uh huh?"

"I'm really sorry I embarrassed you."

"It's alright, really. I embarrassed myself."

"listen... I... Well, I'm not embarrassed. Not with you. Not ever. And if you will, I will."

"Will what?"

"Ahh... Masturbate."

"You will?"

"Yeah."

"What, like here and now, you mean?"

"Yeah."

"You sure, Jamie?"

"Uh huh."

"I'm not... I'm not sure. Can I ask you something?"

I kissed her shoulder. "Yeah, of course."

"Do you... Often?"

"God." I lifted up my head, moved my mouth close to her ear, and whispered. "All the time."

"Oh, thank God. Me, too."

"I have been for ages."

"And me."

There was a pause. I broke the silence again. "Well?"

"Won't it be a bit... Weird?"

"Probably. But it's not the first time, right?"

"What, to be weird?"

"Yeah."

"No, it sure isn't. Well... Jamie, it doesn't mean... You know... That we're... lesbians, does it? If we do it?"

"No! We both like boys, right? And anyway, I'm not doing it to you. Just with you."

"I'm going to do it. You better be serious, Jamie, because I'm going to."

"Me too. Hey, don't you go too fast. I have some catching up to do."

"Just like this? How we are?"

"If you're comfortable."

"Very."

The talking stopped.

Rissa lifted her ass a little, and hoisted her nightie up again, before carefully pulling her panties down her legs and pushing them off with her feet. Her now bare ass pressed against me for a moment, and then she went quiet, her body moving a little more freely than before, relaxed with the knowledge that she wouldn't wake me up, that she wasn't going to be ridiculed, and that she was, at least in my eyes, normal.

I wasn't interested in removing anything. I just needed access. I pulled myself back just a little from her gently moving backside, and slid my right hand down past the elastic of my pyjamas, down inside my panties. I spread my knees a little, and curled a finger down and touched myself. I was even wetter than I had thought I was, and had no trouble at all with lubrication. My fingers slid back and forth over my most sensitive parts, and up and down my drenched labia.

It didn't take long to get into a matching rhythm, and I couldn't help being distracted just a little by the thought that this was the way of it with everything we did. But the immediate task took priority, and soon we were both gasping and thrusting our hips in unison, completely oblivious to any embarrassment, only interested in the journey, and especially the eventual destination.

We came, in the end, together. Legs clamped shut, muscles tensed, groans escaping both of us. Neither of us said anything. Neither of us stopped. Both of us came again shortly after, and then we both collapsed together, giggling, sweaty, aching and just a little embarrassed again.

It was the start of something. We discussed it all rationally at some other time, but from then on if we were in the same room, and no one else was around, there was no hesitation. We never really compared notes, but if we were together, our timing usually matched.

It didn't did it? Make us lesbians, I mean.