I should have listened to Max.

The fact is, from that day on, Kevin lost interest. He was always busy, or away somewhere, or making some other excuse. When we did meet, he wasn't enthusiastic. We fucked a few more times, but it was never like the first time. He wasn't remotely considerate, didn't wait for me, and always ran off to do something else straight after. 'Fuck' is the right word to use. The lovemaking was over.

We never spent the whole night together again, never enjoyed the quiet moments. He came and went. I was devastated.

I'd gone home the next day and relayed the first night to Rissa, and we had both relived the event the way we usually did. Rissa seemed to be even happier for me than I was. She'd been worrying about me for a while, wondering if perhaps I didn't really like men much. She was relieved. We cuddled and kissed with happiness, and she told me how much she loved Max. It was a great day.

My reports after that day weren't nearly so wonderful, and eventually I stopped telling her. After all, she and Max were in love and making plans. If they were both there, I wasn't even usually part of the conversation, though they did their best to include me.

In the finish, I dumped him. I collected all of his belongings that I had, and dropped them at his doorway in a box. I never heard from him again.

When I got back home, I was in a horrible mess. Clarissa and Max were both there, and I explained what I'd just done. They were wonderful, and insisted we needed to go out to celebrate. I didn't want to go, but they were both very firm with me. We went. We ate, drank, got drunk, and came back home. Rissa went beyond the call and sent Max back to his place so she could stay with me. We piled into my bed, and we both cried for hours. We didn't event comfort ourselves the way we might normally have. We just cried. This just might be how you find out who your real friends are. You can laugh with anyone.

The next morning I turned over a new leaf. It was fairly obvious the wait-for-love plan hadn't worked, so I set out to have some fun instead. I became a party girl. I'd drink with anyone, and didn't need much persuasion to go home with them either.

For a while there, I was worse than Rissa had been at her least sensible. She pulled me up on it a couple of times, but it wasn't until she made Max talk to me that I listened. I straightened out a little, drank a lot less, and generally behaved like a human being. I even joined in the jokes about Kevin after a while. We never referred to him by name though. He was Cherry-Popper to the three of us.

I might have reformed after the binge fucking, but I couldn't regain my virginity, and wouldn't have gone back there if I could, so I settled down to a more normal life, spending time with nice men, and perhaps giving them access to more than a kiss after a few dates, if it was apparent they were still nice. I can't say I didn't enjoy things, but it was nothing like the time I'd spent with Kevin, and deep down I was still looking to find a replacement, of sorts.

A year went by. It wasn't entirely uneventful. Max and Rissa got married, and I called her Mrs Jones to her face all the time. I got a new roomie, and then a place by myself when I realised I couldn't share a room with a stranger. I kept up the studying, and got some good grades. I met some nice men, but never one who caused my heart to flutter. Other parts of me fluttered rather more easily though, and I enjoyed the sex even when I knew it would never last.

I held out some hope for one of the guys for a while. I took him to Rissa's wedding. He was a dental student, charming, considerate and wealthy. That last was the problem, strangely. He expected people to do things for him. He'd been brought up that way. Apparently dating the man was equivalent to signing up for employment. He was very generous with his money, but that was all. It translated into the bedroom as well. The first time I knelt between his knees and made him happy it was a great adventure, and I liked the idea of giving him a gift after spending the evening at the wedding. It wasn't until I realised that he expected the gift, and on a regular basis, that I had problems. He never returned the favour either, and that just galled me. I didn't hate him or anything though. Just saw it wasn't going to work. A final fuck and we said goodbye, with no bad feelings.

After that, various men, for various periods of time. Nice sex sometimes. Good conversations, fine wine. Then moving on.

It was a little like that the night I took Dennis to Max and Rissa's place for dinner. She'd phoned and asked me to attend.

"Jamie, are you coming or not?"

"I said I would. I'll be there."

"Tonight."

"What? No, next week."

"No, Jamie, it's tonight. I told you."

"Oh. Shit."

"What's the problem?"

"Dennis."

"What's wrong with him?"

"Well, it's... it's over. I know, but I haven't told him."

"Well, tell him."

"I can't do that. I need the right time. Look, can I bring him, but not have you try to get us hitched?"

"I wouldn't."

"Would so, Rissa. What about Robert?"

"He was nice."

"So?"

"Well, I just thought..."

"No."

"Oh, alright. Sorry."

"That's okay. But not Dennis. Please."

"I said I wouldn't."

"You promise?"

"Yep. Anyway, what's wrong with him?"

"Oh, nothing really. He's no Max."

"Nobody is Max."

"Yeah, but he's not a Max to me."

"You want to borrow my Max?"

"Yeah, sure. Just behave when we get there, would you?"

"I'll be an angel."

"That would be a first."

"Hmmph. No dessert for you, then."

"Ooh, you making that cheesecake, Mrs Jones?"

"Of course, dear. You're coming."

"Okay, look, I trust you. Just tell Max, would you?"

"I'll sort it out. See you at seven?"

"We'll be there. Red or white?"

"Bring some white."

"Done. Love ya."

"Love you too, Jamie. See ya."

"Bye."

Dennis was happy enough to go with me. He seemed to be picking up a vibe though, and I knew I'd have to tell him soon. I didn't want to. Every time I did this it felt like failure.

I didn't need to worry too much about the conversation though. There was some sports thing on TV, and the boys gravitated to that immediately, with a few beers, and left us girls talking about nothing much. We dragged the boys out to eat, and after Max insisted they do the dishes, they threw themselves back into armchairs and polished off a few more beers.

By the time Rissa and I decided we needed them, they were both flaked out in front of the flickering screen, so we left them there. Rissa had a glint in her eye that told me she was up to something, but I couldn't figure out what it was.

First, we had dessert. Double helpings, because the boys didn't wake up. Then another glass of wine, and girl talk. It got late awfully quickly, and when I suggested that I had better get Dennis home, Rissa grinned, and suggested there was no rush. After all, he was already getting his sleep, right?

I thought it was time to find out what was going on. "What exactly are you up to, Mrs Jones?"

"Oh, nothing. Nothing."

"Much."

"Yeah, much. Did you know we got a new shower installed upstairs?"

"No. What was wrong with the old one?"

"Nothing whatsoever."

"Oh. So?"

"So this one is better. Come take a look."

I shrugged and followed her up the stairs. We headed into their bedroom, and through into the bathroom. It certainly looked new. Chrome and glass everywhere. "You know, you could donate to starving Africans."

"This is so much more fun. Plus, what would they do with a shower like this? Stop preaching."

"Sorry. So other than the likelyhood of being blinded, what's so special?"

"Multiple jets, and a massage mode."

"No."

"Yes."

"Ooh."

"So, single girl, want to try it out?"

"I'm not single. I have baggage downstairs."

"He's unconscious. Well?"

"Yeah, okay. Like the old days?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean are we sharing, Rissa?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

"I don't need to, do I?"

"Probably not. Strip."

"Towels?"

"I'll get them. Back in a moment."

So I did. I was completely comfortable with Rissa, and I didn't even care if Max saw me. It wouldn't be the first time one of us had bumped into the other sans clothing. Dennis had removed my clothing once or twice as well, so what was to worry about?

By the time Rissa returned, I was starkers, and had reached in to turn the water on. She slapped my ass with the towels, and dropped them on the dresser. "Make way, make way." She was naked already herself, and I was struck by how neither of us had changed a lot in the last couple of years, at least physically.

I opened the door to the shower properly and ran through, with Rissa after me. We'd had enough to drink to make us a little silly, and it didn't take us long until we were having great fun under the water, washing each other's hair, and rubbing each other down the big soapy sponges. Nothing was off limits, especially after I got Rissa back by soap-sponging her ass. There was much in the way of giggles, as though we weren't adults any more. It was great. There was no denying the massage jets were relaxing, either.

Eventually though, we had to get out of the shower or turn into prunes. We towelled off, and then Rissa found us both some robes, and we ran back to the bedroom to tidy ourselves up and dry our hair.

It never crossed my mind that there could be anything more than harmless fun involved until we were tickling each other, lying on top of the bed. The robes weren't exactly keeping us warm in that position, and when Rissa suggested climbing under the covers, I looked at her, wondering exactly where she was going.

"Don't stare, Jamie."

"I'm suspicious."

"Of what?"

"Your motives."

"I don't have motives."

"Yes."

"No. I have breasts, though." She opened the robe and shook her boobs at me. "See?"

We both collapsed in laughter at the point, and I decided I really wanted to know where she was going. So I stood up, dropped the robe to the ground, and shook my own back at her. When she didn't respond, I picked up the covers, and climbed into her bed. The bed she shared with Max. The bed she made love to him in. Suddenly I realised. I stared at her some more.

"What?"

"Rissa, you want to?"

"Oh, God. Yeah. I just want to see."

"But... what about Max?"

"Oh, no, it's... nothing is wrong. He said... I didn't want to tell you like this. I asked him. He said it was alright."

"Alright? Like alright now, or forever, or what?"

"Once."

"Oh, just once?"

"Yeah. And then he wants to discuss it again."

"Get in."

"Thanks." She dropped her robe, and lifted the covers on her side.

"But don't get ideas. I want to talk, Rissa."

"Fine."

"I thought you'd decided... you know... that you weren't."

"A lesbian? I'm not. I'm just curious. And there's no one else I trust."

"Yeah, but... why now?"

"Well, I was going to once before. Before I met Max."

"And?"

"Well, to tell the truth I was worried about you. I thought maybe you were."

"Were? Lesbian? Me?"

"Yeah, sorta. Look Jamie, you were hanging around with me, and you weren't letting men near you, and..."

"Oh, fucking stop that. I love men."

"Do you?"

"I do. What the hell?"

"Okay. I'm sorry."

"No need to go that far."

She looked at me sharply, and then grinned in response to my smile. "Bitch."

"Busybody."

"You've got a big ass, Jamie."

"And big tits."

"Yeah. You beat me there."

"I like you just the way you are, Rissa."

"Yeah, thanks. So anyway, now that we've got that out of the way, do I get a hug?"

"Always."

She pulled me closer, and we cuddled fiercely together, maybe crying just a little, despite the laughter. With our faces close together, she kept talking, quietly now, in a sort of whisper. "See, assuming you're telling the truth..."

"I am."

"...And you really do like men, well, could we?"

My mind was a blur. The wine, and the shower. The nakedness, and my favourite person in the whole world hugging me close. The thought of it, and the fear. The knowledge that Max would know. That one worked both ways. "What if... what if the boys wake up?"

"Won't happen. Max made sure that Dennis was completely off his face, seeing as you insisted on bringing the twit, and he promised to stay down there and babysit. We're quite safe."

"But he'll know. Max, I mean."

"Yeah."

I paused to think. Pondered the options. Wondered. Then I answered, in a very quiet whisper. "Yes."

"Yes? You're sure?"

"Christ, don't ask me again, Rissa."

"Okay, okay."

We stopped talking.

Rissa's skin was softer than I thought. She was always dressed in a nightgown or a shirt or something in the past. I guess I felt different too. All that skin. Softness and warmth.

We started off in fairly familiar territory, pressed together, moving a little. Rissa turned away instinctively, just as she usually did, and my hand sat on her hip for a while, my groin against her ass, my breasts pressed to her back. We moved. Our bodies slid against each other, wondering at the feel of it.

My hand found its way up over her waist, and further, until I was cupping one of her breasts. I was right. It was just the right size. The nipple was hard, and she gasped as I squeezed.

I took her hand, pulled it down and soundlessly encouraged her to start rubbing herself. She hesitated for a moment, and then I could feel her familiar stroke, and hear her sigh. My hand wandered down the front of her body to meet hers, and for the first time I touched a girl between her legs. Not just any girl, either. The one I'd been beside so many times. The one who had come with me over and over, with the two of us whispering fantasies to each other.

I was stunned at how wet she was. She felt a little like me, but different. Her hair was softer, and her labia more puffy. Her finger was stroking just the way mine did, so I eased in beside her, and rubbed her little clit while my own thighs crushed hard against her ass.

It might have seemed selfish that she let me help and didn't return the favour, but for that moment it was exactly what I wanted. Within a few minutes she turned to me, her lips locked to mine, and we had to find a new position, a new way of moving.

After struggling with it for a few more minutes we found something that worked, and we were able to kiss while stroking each other gently. I was surprised at how unsurprised I was when Rissa spread my legs and pressed her finger to my sopping groin. At how my pussy responded. At the way she touched my clit. It was all very familiar for two reasons. She did what I would have done. What I was doing, to her. And a girl's finger isn't all that different to a boy's. Gentler though.

This wasn't going to take an awfully long time, I could tell. We were both moving faster now, our whole bodies involved. Something different here was the touching of breasts to breasts. Every once in a while our nipples would slide past each other, and it was as though we were both being touched by a small electric current. I would gasp, and Rissa would moan.

In fact, it was her moan that finished things. I was so familiar with the pattern of her sounds that I knew how close she was, and the knowledge that I was there with her, and that it was her finger that was getting me there was all that I could handle.

My hand squeezed where I was stroking. Rissa's did as well. She bit my lip gently, and I pinched her nipple, quite hard. We literally exploded, groaning and gasping, as the orgasms overtook us. I jerked and jumped. Rissa seems to become liquid for a moment, and then rigid. Sweat poured from both of us, but we wouldn't let each other go. We held on, and delighted in the sensory overload.

When we were younger, we had often managed more than one orgasm each by ourselves, but when we were together we stopped at one. I had no idea why, other than that perhaps we weren't so comfortable with the situation after the tension was released. In any case, that wasn't the way of it now.

As soon as the pulses started to slow, we found our fingers were both starting to move again. Gently, and very slowly. Just near each other's clitorises, not on them. And it didn't take long to get back to a point where we were both very interested.

That was when Rissa whispered in my ear. She told me how wonderful that was, how it was everything she thought, and more, and how she wanted one more thing. She was exceedingly blunt. I dribbled and nodded.

Given that it was her idea, I let her work out the details. She pulled back the covers on the bed. We certainly weren't in need of them anymore. Then she crouched to my side, grinned at me, leaned down and kissed me on the lips, and then turned so she was facing my feet.

Laying herself down on top of me, she managed to position herself so that her face was between my legs, and mine between hers. I licked her, hesitantly, and felt her return the stroke. I did it again, and we both giggled. Again, and suddenly it didn't tickle any more.

Entranced by the feeling, and realising that this was quite different to having a boy between my legs, I really got into it. My hands were on Rissa's ass, and I pulled her towards me, loving the smell and the taste of her. My fingers scraped her buttocks, and my tongue found its way to her clit. Her actions mirrored mine, and soon we were both engrossed in a multitude of feelings. We were, in a word, close.

I had known, from an earlier set of confessions, that we both had another secret liking. While neither of us had any interest in anal sex, we did both like the feeling of a stray finger near, or on, that puckered opening. Continuing to concentrate on what I was doing with my tongue, and the feeling that I was receiving from Rissa doing the same, I managed to find time for my fingers to wander over her ass, to circle ever closer, and then, when she realised what I was doing, to slide over the central spot. She jumped. I did it again. I felt her tongue quiver in and on me. Then her finger found the same spot on me. I squealed. I did it again, in retaliation, and felt her body stiffen over me. A loud groan escaped her then, but I lost track as I tumbled over into orgasm myself.

Waves of pleasure flowed over us both, and we just undulated together, groaning with the movements, and the touch. This time, when we calmed down, we stopped. Enough was, we decided, enough.

Giving no thought to the future, to the men downstairs, or to anything else, we slept.