Copyright 2003 Eclectic Tastes
All stories written by Eclectic Tastes are subject to further 
revision.  Also, only those with written (or typed) permission 
from the author are allowed to post them 
elsewhere.  Any suggestions, comments, or questions can be 
emailed to eclectictastes_asstr@yahoo.com.

Disclaimer:  Sometimes, fantasies are just fantasies.  Sometimes, 
they shouldn't be tried anywhere but in the mind.  Sometimes, 
it's illegal to try them elsewhere.  Any risky or illegal 
behavior is not condoned by the author of these stories.  In fact, 
the author is so touchy about some fantasies being brought into 
reality that really shouldn't be, that he might be the first person 
to call the cops if you, say, attempted to touch his neice (who's 
still a child) in a sexual manner.    

That's not to say that all of Eclectic Tastes stories involve risky 
behavior, but please use common sense if you ever attempt to re-enact 
anything in his stories.  If you can see the audience of Jerry 
Springer insulting you for doing something, Mr. Tastes suggest you 
refrain from doing it.

Also, be safe.  Condoms, dental dams, spermicide, birth control, 
abstinence.  Those are just a few ways to protect yourself.

=======================================

Superhero (MF, romantic, long exposition)

=======================================

Men always gave me looks when I was with Sharon.  "Way to go" looks.  Like I did 
something so unbelievable to snag her that I must have been on par with Superman or 
Spiderman or, at the very least, Underdog.  Like I was a god.  I think if she weren't so 
intelligent, she would've been a model.  But she'd never be happy posing.  It wouldn't be 
fulfilling enough for her.  I never particularly liked her.  She bored me.  But the looks 
didn't bore me.  I liked being a god.

I kept getting the same looks from her male colleagues at her Annual Company and 
Client Holiday Extravaganza, or ACHE in my case.  The looks were the only things that 
kept the party bearable.  I wasn't really smart enough to figure out exactly what it is that 
she did.  Or perhaps I was just not interested enough.  Whatever it was, it was incredibly 
dull, so it fit her personality.  

We sat at a table with Jack.  He was vaguely entertaining, so I was happy to sit at his 
table.  He speaks before he thinks and he's incredibly clumsy.  I thought that he might 
have been on the janitorial staff or one of those guys they must hole up in little rooms for 
data entry or computation of figures or some such thing.  They couldn't possibly trust 
him to deal with the customers.

However, Jack was proving to be very thoughtful and careful about what he said and did 
that night.  So I scanned the room for Sharon.  She was talking to an elderly Japanese 
gentleman who happened to be staring at her tits rather than listening.  Good luck to him, 
I thought.  Maybe he'll be able to get further than I have with her.

"Sharon's got great jugs."

My luck for the night had changed.  Jack was getting drunker and was letting loose with 
derogatory statements about my girlfriend to me.  I decided to play with him while I had 
the chance.  

"Yeah," I said.  "Wanna touch 'em?"

"I want to do more than touch them.  I want to tap that ass, if you know..."

I was staring at Jack, trying to make him uncomfortable by conveying no emotion.  He 
realized that he was saying something wrong.  He fumbled with the full champagne glass 
in his hands and managed to spill scotch on his shoes and the Persian rug below us.  He 
attempted to clean it up and ended up falling off of his chair.  I was still bored.  So I 
scanned the room for Sharon once more.

I spotted her looking incredibly uncomfortable with an irate woman.  The woman's 
cheeks were glowing red and she seemed quite out-of-breath, her chest heaving between 
aggravated words.  Her breasts rose and fell with each syllable.  She had average breasts, 
but I couldn't keep my eyes off of them.  I was so used to the silicone implants of Sharon 
and her friends that I had almost forgotten how real tits move.  She was plumper than 
most and her stomach seemed to push them up a bit, all the better for me to fixate on 
them.  They were mesmerizing.  My eyes traveled further down to her round, full hips 
that melted into her voluptuous ass.  If I have sex with her, I'll bet her hip bone wouldn't 
leave a bruise on my pelvic bone when she dry-humps me... Maybe I could get further 
than a dry-hump!

But the best thing about this mystery woman was that she was reaming Sharon.  Except 
that Sharon took it as a reason to come bitch to me.

"What a fat cow!" she hissed.  "Fucking fat bitch doesn't know shit."

I put on my game face and asked as fake-frustrated as I could, "Who is she?"

"A client.  She says I fucked something up but I so did not.  What the fuck would an ugly 
fuck like her know anyway, right?"

I nodded in fake indignation.  Sharon continued to spew into my ear.  Things she 
probably shouldn't have told me though I couldn't care enough to actually listen.  I was 
far to busy watching her irate client make rounds.  I was far too busy having a good 
fantasy fuck with a woman who had more than hair to grab onto.  Her hips shook with 
every step.  She would be a blast in bed.  

"Are you listening to me?  Why are you staring at the sow?"

"I'm just so mad," I said, dropping a cloth napkin to my crotch in efforts to hide my 
semi-wood and taking a swig of my whiskey sour.  "So...mad!"

When Sharon left to make more rounds, I asked Jack what he knew about the woman 
Sharon was so angry with.  I found out that her name was Eliza.  She was a very 
important client because she's loaded and the wealthiest are always the most important.  
She dated Dendra every once in awhile.

Dendra was the chick Sharon avoided ever since Dendra supposedly hit on her by asking 
to borrow her stapler.  "Dendra?  So this Eliza is a lesbian, then?"

"Dyke-o-rama."

Shit.  "Never dated a man?"

"Nobody with the firm.  I have to piss."

As Jack stumbled off in the wrong direction to get to the bathroom, I stole another glance 
at Eliza.

***

An hour later, I was standing outside the hotel holding a cigarette.  I didn't really smoke, 
but it was an excuse to...well...excuse myself.  So I went outside and lit one so I would 
smell like it when I got back in.  Sharon could wrinkle up her nose like she liked to when 
she thought she was being cute.  She refused to kiss me if she thought I'd been smoking, 
so she couldn't really discover my awful non-smoker's secret.

The cigarette was about half-burnt when the door swung open.  Dendra and Eliza fell out 
of the building.

"I hate that woman!" stated Eliza, matter-of-fact.  Her voice struck me a little bit south of 
where it should have, but luckily not to the extent that fantasizing had earlier.  My heart 
beat a little too hard for my liking.  I was nervous.  The butterflies nauseated me even 
though she wasn't even talking to me.

"She doesn't like me," observed the ever-intuitive Dendra.

"Why not?  You're likable enough."  Eliza poked Dendra in the nose with her index 
finger.

"Jack told me that she thinks I want her."

"Do you?" Eliza teased.

"I wouldn't say no.  But I probably wouldn't say yes to a second coming."

"Ha."

"If I'm likable enough..." Dendra grabbed Eliza by the handles and pulled her close.  
"Why won't you move in with me?"

"Oh," said Eliza playfully while detaching herself from Dendra's grasp.  "You're not 
likable enough for that."  Then her tone suddenly changed.  "I can't believe that bitch!  
She fucked up my account and lost my money yet she continues to insist that it was all 
my fault.  My fault for trusting her with my cash."

"Maybe she thinks you..." Dendra stopped short as she saw me standing there, probably 
with a goofy grin on my face.  She was suddenly flustered.  "Oh.  Hi, Aaron."

"How ya doin', Dendra?" I cooed.

"Um, Aaron, this is Eliza.  Eliza, Aaron.  Sharon's boyfriend."

"Boy toy," I corrected.

Eliza's cheeks went red again, this time from embarrassment.  Her eyes shone beneath 
the red.  A bright blue twinkle.  Like Mrs. Claus.  I always loved that jolly fat guy's wife.

"Relax.  I didn't just hear you bad-talking Sharon."  I didn't think it was possible for her 
to be redder. 

"Um...sorry."

"For what?  I heard nothing.  I'm oblivious."

I dropped the cigarette and stepped on it.  I did not want to go back in though.  Especially 
now that all the pleasant company was outside.

"Dendra, would you do me a favor and tell Jack to tell Sharon that I didn't feel well and 
I've gone home?" I asked.

"I can tell her myself..."

"Please don't.  Or I'll have to hear about it and the stapler-borrowing incident for the 
next year."

"Ha.  You drive?" chimed in a rosy-faced Eliza.

"She did.  I'll grab a cab."

"Oh, no need for a cab.  My driver's bringing the car around.  You'll ride with me."

I'm sure it was my turn to blush because I felt the heat rise to my cheeks.  "Oh no.  That 
would be a big hassle.  I don't want to impose."

"Anything for the boyfriend of my favorite person in the world.  Come on.  My driver is a 
dipshit and I always kind of dread the ride home with him.  You owe me," she said.

"How do I owe you?"

"Well it's more the whore you're dating who owes me than it is you.  She broke my 
piggy bank.  It's my turn to break one of her toys."  

I looked at her; something like shock must have registered on my face.  Perhaps she was 
interested in men after all.  In which case, I would be totally open to being the broken 
toy.

A short limo with tinted windows pulled up in front of us.

"I could call you a cab, Aaron."  Dendra looked quite jealous.  I suppose it wasn't the 
most pleasing thing in the world for her to be watching the lover she seemed to be serious 
about hitting on the boyfriend of a woman who treats her like crap.

But I couldn't worry about Dendra.  It was Eliza I was focusing on.  Besides, the limo 
looked much more comfortable than a cab would've been.

"Thanks, Dendra, but I think I have my ride."

At that, Eliza slid into the limo through a door being held open by her dipshit of a driver, 
and I followed after her, leaving Dendra pale-faced and flustered outside the hotel.

***

I told her driver where I lived and we made idle chitchat.  I averted my eyes from her as 
much as I could.  I was suddenly very nervous.  I'd never been nervous with a girl before.  
My hands were sweating.  My mouth was dry.  I couldn't think of things to say unless 
they were stupid and boring like "Quite a party, eh?" and "Great weather we've been 
having" and "So you have a limo?  How's that for you?"

I'd been with Sharon for about a year, but before that I was considered quite the 
Casanova.  I couldn't understand why my natural charm was failing me now.  What was 
it about this girl that flustered me so much?  I was thinking about this during an awkward 
silence about halfway to my loft when she said,

"Do I make you uncomfortable or something?"

"What?"

"It's just, you seemed interested enough out on the sidewalk and now you're not even 
looking at me.  Is it my size?"

"What?  No.  No!  No, it's just that...  I don't know.  I'm nervous or something."

"Because men usually think of me as an easy lay.  They don't think I have self-esteem.  
But I'm not easy and I love how I look.  And if you have a problem with it then maybe 
you should've taken a cab."

"No."  I looked at her.  I made eye contact.  We sat in silence for about three seconds 
before my eyes traveled down her body.  I couldn't stop them.  It didn't go unnoticed.

"So it's not my body.  What is it?  My power?  My money?"

"Sharon's got power and money."

"Then my intelligence.  She doesn't have that."

"She's not...interesting."

"Why are you with her?"

"Because of the men.  The way they..." It hit me.  I couldn't walk around with Eliza and 
get those looks.  She was beautiful, but she wasn't conventional.  She was big.  But if I 
saw a man with her, he'd get the looks from me.  Right?  I mean, if I saw someone 
walking around with Sharon on his arm, I'd pity him.  But Eliza...  Suddenly, the looks 
didn't matter.

"The way they what?"

"I don't know why I'm with her."

She put her hand on my knee.  We were two blocks from my place.  We were silent the 
rest of the way.  When we arrived, her hand was lifted and I let myself out of the car, 
thanked her, and shut the door behind me.

***

I put all of Sharon's stuff in a box.  We spent most of our time at her apartment, so there 
wasn't much at mine.  I was relatively sure she hadn't left the party yet, so I decided to 
wait until morning to take it to her.  I didn't want to be with Sharon anymore.  I was 
ready to be a regular man.  No more super hero.  No more sex god.  She wouldn't give 
me any anyway.

I could've slept with Eliza.  She made it apparent by the rhythmic squeezes of my knee in 
the last two blocks.  But I didn't.  It seemed too cheap to me.  And Eliza was worth more 
than that.  It wouldn't be fair to her if she were the mistress or the transition.  I'd spent 
my life being a not-so-decent guy.  I was proud of myself for holding back.  I hoped she 
didn't take it as an insult.  She's a smart woman.  She must have understood at least a 
little bit.

***

When I showed up at Sharon's apartment the next day, I knocked.  I had a key, but 
something didn't feel right about using it the morning I was to break up with her.  Sharon 
didn't answer the door.  Dendra did.  She was in my robe and her hair was jostled about.  
She had a sleepy grin on her face.

"Aaron," she greeted.

"Perfect," I smiled.  "How goes it, Dendra?"

"Great.  How was your night?"

"Pretty quiet, actually.  I turned in about at about 12:30."

"But you left ten after."

"My place is close.  The driver dropped me off and I was asleep within fifteen minutes or 
so."

"Wait."  Dendra was trying to grasp what I was telling her.  "So you didn't..."

"Didn't what?"

"With Eliza..."

"Oh.  No.  But you and Sharon, eh?  How was that for ya?"

With that, Dendra turned and walked away.  I followed.  

"Sharon!" I called.  "Daddy's home and he brought you some gifts."

I heard her voice from the bathroom.  "What gifts are those, Daddy?  Something from the 
slut you left with?"

"What slut?  You seem to have had the slut in your bed last night, Mommy.  Never knew 
you were a dyke.  What's with that?  I should've known though, really.  You never were 
really into sex with men."  I sat the box on the bed next to Dendra.

Sharon walked into the room.  "It's over," she said.  I nodded, reached into my robe, and 
tweaked Dendra's nipple.  She slapped my arm away.

"Glad we cleared that up," I told Sharon.

***

In the next three months, I dated and slept with several women, casually.

There was Lucy, a bartender, originally from the Bronx, who was only really interested in 
giving head, which was fine with me.  She had a technique.  She said it always seemed so 
crude when she used to lube a cock by spitting on it, so she developed a way to drool 
down the shaft while focusing on the head and balls and working the drool in with her 
hands.  After a while she would deep throat the whole thing.  She was the first woman to 
risk gagging on my meat.  But she never did.  Nor did she spill a drop of cum.

There was Sidney, the fashion designer.  She was always up for a good missionary fuck.  
Really vanilla, but reliable.  What she lacked in creativity she more than made up for in 
endurance.  She tested mine while she was at it.  The third girl helped in that area.

She was Courtney, a small-time radio disc jockey.  Her favorite musician was Sting, and 
being so, she was obsessed with Tantric sex.  I cheated at it by sleeping with the other 
girls, but I did go a whole week with only Courtney once.  After that week, I knew how 
to prolong my orgasms long enough to match Sidney.

Ally, the wanna-be-actress waitress, liked double-penetration, which was fine until she 
tried to bring another man into it.  I have a certain comfort level with a dildo, but three's 
a crowd in my book.  It wasn't the possibility that the man might touch me that weirded 
me out, it was the added dynamic of a whole other mind and body to worry about.  I'm 
not sure I was comfortable enough with my own prowess in sex with Ally to add another 
to the mix.

Virginia was good at conversation and that's all we ever really did.  We talked politics.  
We talked books.  We went to matinees and critiqued them afterwards over dinner.  We 
talked dirty.  We had phone sex.  She was a kindergarten teacher.  Sometimes she scolded 
me out of habit, but she apologized quickly afterwards.

None of them could make me feel like Eliza had that night.  None of them made me 
nervous.  Casanova was back.  But this time, unlike high school, I made it clear that I 
wasn't serious about any of them.  This time, my women knew about each other.  The 
only woman I'd never cheated on was Sharon.  The only woman I really wanted was 
Eliza.

***

It was late October when I saw Eliza's dipshit driver filling up the limo with gas while I 
was on a date with Virginia.  We were walking to an art gallery opening she had wanted 
to check out so much that we made the date a month ahead of time.

"You remember I told you about Eliza?"

"Yeah.  The woman who made you realize you should break it off with Sharon, right?"

Virginia was the only one I had told about Eliza.  Probably because she was the only one 
I really ever talked to.  In the months we'd been dating and keeping our hands to 
ourselves, she had really become more of a friend than a lover.  I had met a couple of the 
men she was dating and she had met Ally—pre-threesome drop.

"That's her driver gassing up her limo.  I wonder if she's there."

Virginia's eyes lit up.  "Let's see.  I want to meet the woman who made you freeze up."

I didn't want to.  I was scared I suppose.  But Virginia took my hand and pulled me.  I 
suppose I could have stopped her from dragging me along, but I let her.  Because as 
much as I didn't want to see if Eliza was with her driver, I really wanted to see Eliza 
again.  At least one more time.  Maybe she wasn't as wonderful as I remembered.  Maybe 
she could break me of this preoccupation I seemed to have with her.

"I don't know about this..."

"Relax, Aaron.  If it doesn't work out, I'll give you a hand job."

"Yeah right.  This is totally worth at least a blow job."

"Then I'll call Lucy," she teased.

We reached the car and she walked around to the driver while I stood there trying not to 
look at the tinted windows or piss my pants.  I could pretend like I didn't recognize the 
car.  I could pretend like Virginia had escaped from some mental hospital.  I could 
pretend...something.

I watched as Virginia spoke to the man in hushed tones.  I couldn't hear what she was 
saying, but she kept looking in my direction with a sly grin.  He grabbed her breast and 
she let it stay there for five seconds before saying something else.  Then, he opened the 
back door and she slipped in, with a wink at me.  

I sprang into action and jogged to the driver.  

"That woman, what did she say to you?"

The dipshit looked at me and licked his lips.  "She asked if my employer was in the car.  I 
told her yes."  My stomach lurched as he continued.  "She asked if she could speak with 
her and I said I wasn't sure.  She told me she'd let me hold her tit for five seconds if I'd 
let her in to speak with my employer."

"So you let her."

"Why?  You think I could've got more?  Man, I could've got more!"  The guy really was 
a dipshit.

All I knew was that Virginia, the one person who knew more about me than anyone else 
was in the car with Eliza, the one person who'd ever accomplished making me lose my 
cool and I couldn't see them.

But they could see me.

The thought sent me straight to the bathroom of the gas station.  I looked at myself in the 
cracked and scuffed mirror.  I didn't look too bad.  My hair looked composed, yet mussed 
enough to seem like I didn't put much effort into it.  Fun enough that I didn't look as if I 
took myself too seriously.  I had recently found new shaving oil and no longer had little 
shaving bumps and ingrown hairs.  I was clean-shaven for the opening.  I wore pressed 
dark khakis, loafers, a bright blue t-shirt that said "Sam's Auto-Wash" and had a car with 
bubbles all over it on the front, and a black sport's coat.  I looked hip, thanks to Sidney.  I 
looked good.  But I felt like crap.

My hands were sweaty again.  My mouth was dry.  My heart felt like it was going to fly 
out of my chest, turn around, slap me in the face, and rest itself in the pit of my stomach.  
I hadn't even seen her and I was a mess.  Damn it, Aaron!  Get a grip.  Go back out there 
and be a man.

So I went back out there.  The limo was gone.  Virginia was standing outside of the 
bathroom door waiting for me.

"What happened?" I asked.

"I'll tell you.  After the opening.  Let's go, honey.  We're late."

***

My hands stayed sweaty throughout the opening.  Virginia kept grabbing my hand, then 
letting go and wiping it on her skirt.  She gave me odd, knowing looks.  I was so 
uncomfortable it wasn't even funny.  I just wanted to know what happened.

At the end, I wasn't going to push it.  I was scared, I suppose.  I wanted to know, but if it 
was bad, I really didn't.  What if she didn't even remember me?  What if she thought I 
was a dolt?  What if she didn't care enough to even listen to what Virginia had to say?

As we walked out of the gallery, Virginia started talking.

"She's hot.  You said she got your blood boiling, but you didn't even begin to describe 
how hot she is."

"She looked good?"

"More than good."

"What happened?"

***

"I walked up to the driver, and, well, you saw.  He really is a dipshit.  But I knew how to 
deal with him.  He's like a kid.  You can give them a little and they're satisfied, right?  
And it you work it right, they won't even realize they can get more out of you.  Low 
stakes.  So I let him grab my tits and he let me in the car.  

She was surprised at first.  I mean, she doesn't know me.  But she does remember you.  
She saw us coming and she recognized you.  First thing she said to me after 'I need to fire 
that guy,' was 'You're with Aaron.'

'Yes,' I said.  'That's Aaron.  We were going to a gallery opening and he saw the car.'

'Oh,' she said.  She was really quiet.  She kept looking at you.

'He really liked you.  Likes you.  Talks about you a lot and always apologizes that he 
doesn't have any new stories.'

'He talks about me?  To you?  Isn't that a little tough on you?'

'No, you misunderstand.  We're not serious.  We're more friends than lovers really.  He's 
my best friend.  Makes it tough for me to find someone I'm really serious about who's 
willing to share me, but I get along.'

'Oh,' she said again, stealing another look at you.  'What's he say about me?'

'Why don't you let him tell you?'

'He seems to be going to the bathroom at the moment.'

'He's free tonight.  We were just going to hang out at his place and watch a movie.  I'll 
be there when you show up because, frankly, you make him nervous.  Once you guys get 
comfortable with each other, I'll leave.  I'll go see Joe or someone.  He's always good for 
a laugh.'

She agreed.  Now, I don't want you to get angry with me, Aaron, but she is just so 
magnetic.  She knows how to use her body and she's got plenty to use and we were just 
sitting there.  I don't know why I did it but I had to kiss her.  I thought I blew the whole 
thing.  I really thought I did.  I thought I'd have to find someone else to supervise you 
two.  But it didn't seem to faze her.  She just smiled and said she'd be there.

Her driver was done gassing her up, so I got out and they left.  Then I waited for you 
outside the bathroom."

"You kissed her?"

"Yeah.  Sorry."

"I haven't even kissed her."

"You'll like it.  She has good lips.  I've never kissed a girl before."

"You haven't even kissed me."

So Virginia kissed me.  Suddenly, my stomach lurched.  Just as I began to kiss her back, 
she pulled away.  We walked in silence back to my place.

***

The rest of the afternoon, I was a nervous wreck.  Virginia and I watched Office Space 
and I kept glancing at her, my hands still sweaty.  For once, I couldn't think of a thing to 
say to her, so I kept my mouth shut and pretended to concentrate on the movie.  It was 
one of my favorites, so she probably didn't think anything of my silence.

My mind was racing though.  What would happen?  Was Eliza more excited about seeing 
Virginia than she was excited to see me?  Why did I get that feeling in my stomach with 
Virginia's kiss?  What if it were Virginia, and not Eliza, that I should be with?  What if I 
got caught in some sticky love triangle?  What if Eliza and Virginia got together?  What 
if, what if, what if...

It was drama.  I don't like drama.  Especially not the melodrama my head was making the 
whole situation out to be.  I like comedy.  Like the movie we were watching.  Or a good 
action flick.  Not this drama shit.  Things were supposed to be black and white in my life.  
This was all too complicated.  I could feel myself shutting down.

"Something wrong?"

I snapped to attention.  Virginia.  Virginia is still here.  Hi, Virginia.  I'm extremely 
uncomfortable.  You kissed my crush.  You kissed me.  I'm hiding my wood with this 
pillow.  "No.  Nothing."

"You're nervous."

"No.  I'm not nervous."

"You're lying."

"Well...yes."

Virginia moved closer to me on the couch.

"We don't lie to each other, Aaron.  It's not nice."

"Yes, Miss."

She sprawled out on the couch and placed her head on the pillow in my lap.  I looked 
down at her looking up at me.

"I should make you stay after school."

"This is disturbing.  You teach kindergarten."

"Not today I don't."

She snaked her hand up my t-shirt.  My stomach twisted as she ran her fingernails lightly 
against my pectorals.  She was sending chills up and down my spine and I'm not even 
sure she realized it.  If she kept this up, the pillow wouldn't conceal my hardness from 
her head.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm relaxing you."

She sat up and straddled me.  Her mouth closed in on mine.  I felt like a deer in 
headlights.  I wasn't sure what I should do.  I wasn't sure if I could deal with the 
consequences of her relaxation techniques.  At first, our lips just touched.  Neither of us 
made a move to take it further.  We just breathed on each other.  She smelled like apples 
and chalk.  How a teacher should.  But there was something underneath that smell.  
Something like sex.  Something I had never smelled on her before.

I felt her suck my upper lip into her mouth.  She was going slowly and the suction was 
gentle.  My lip was misted with the dew of her breath and saliva.  I began to kiss her 
back, her lower lip between my teeth; I tasted her with the tip of my tongue.  

My arms sat at my side.  I wasn't sure what to do with them.  I should touch her.  But it's 
Virginia.  We're all talk and no play.  It's Virginia.  As she slipped her tongue into my 
mouth and put the pads of her fingers softly to my cheeks, I pulled away, pushed her 
aside, and stood.

"We don't do this.  This isn't something we do."

"We have rules now?"  She was hurt.  I could see it.  She looked like she did when Ryan 
broke up with her.  Ryan, who stole her from me for two weeks before deciding she 
wasn't his style.  She had given me up for him after a month of dating him.  He was the 
only one.  She thought she'd be with him forever.  I was happy when it ended because I 
got her back.  But I was angry that he had hurt her so much.  And now I was getting the 
same look.  But we don't do this!

"You're my best friend.  It's against the rules."

"Forget it," she said.  She took Office Space from the DVD player and replaced it with 
Almost Famous.  She sat as if nothing happened.  I sat back down beside her and started 
to watch the movie.  

My mind wasn't in it.  Instead, it was noticing how close she was.  How her hand was 
inches from mine on the cushions.  How her foot was so close to touching mine that all I 
would have to do is flex a toe to be in contact.  I could hear her breathe.  It was slow and 
rhythmic and had a breeze of her voice in it.  I resituated myself.  My hand was closer 
now.  My neck and back were very uncomfortable, but I was closer.  Why had I stopped 
it?  Why, when it felt like all I really wanted, did I stop her?  Maybe I was scared that I'd 
talk myself out of trying for Eliza.  Maybe I was scared that I actually loved Virginia.  
Whatever it was, I was kicking myself.  I'd never been so unsure of myself.  Not even 
with Eliza in the limo.

Virginia sniffed, but she tried to cover it up by clearing her throat.  I glanced at her 
sideways.  She was staring intently at the television screen, but tears were streaming from 
her eyes.  The movie wasn't sad in the least.  Not yet.  I really had hurt her.  I grabbed her 
hand and gave it a squeeze.  She looked at me.  

"I'm sorry," I said.

"For what?  We don't do that.  You're right.  It's just..."

She turned her head and looked at my floor.

"Just what?"

"No.  Forget it."

I took her chin in my hand and lifted her face to mine.

"Just what?"

"Didn't you feel it?  When we kissed?  I've never felt that.  I mean, if you didn't, 
that's...I mean, you're my best friend and that wouldn't..."

I had been the one who stopped us fifteen minutes earlier.  And I was the one to start us 
up again.  I held her hand and her chin and I kissed her.  Our lips and teeth and tongues 
harmonized in our mouths.  I finally understood what the old movies meant by making 
beautiful music together.  She would pull away coyly; make me chase her mouth with 
mine.  I would do the same to her.  It became a game.  We giggled.  I giggled.  I had 
never had so much fun just kissing a woman before.  

I let my hands roam.  She giggled even more.  I found out something I'd never thought to 
discover before:  She's ticklish.  Before long I was holding her to the couch and tickling 
her ribs and she was laughing harder than she ever had in my presence before.  Not long 
after that, we were rolling on the floor.  She had flipped me to the ground and landed atop 
me, fighting to keep my hands from her sides by weaving her fingers between mine and 
lifting them above our heads.  

Her mouth assaulted mine some more, our kisses becoming more and more hungry, our 
tongues intertwining like our fingers.  I felt her chest heaving above mine, and below 
mine, and above mine, until we rolled into the coffee table on the other side of the room.  
I felt the blood pumping through my crotch.  I felt her nipples sliding up to my shoulders 
and off of me as she lifted her torso from mine.  She straddled me.

We both became remarkably serious as she lifted my t-shirt over my head.  I helped her 
by pulling it free of my arms and tossing it aside.  I looked up at her.  I was seeing her, as 
I never had before.  She was very beautiful.  She had shoulder-length dirty blonde hair 
and light brown eyes.  She was plump, though not obese.  She was curvy, not angular.  
Her cheeks were blotched red with passion.  My fingers trembled at the bottom hem of 
her shirt.  I slid my hand beneath it and ran my palms over the skin on her back, hard 
enough that it wouldn't tickle her.  She had smooth skin.  Smooth and cool and soft.  

Her fingernails skimmed my bare chest and stomach.  

"We don't do this," she whispered.

"We have rules?" I answered.

I lifted her shirt over her head and threw it aside.  Her nipples fought against her bra.  I 
put my hands over them.  I fondled.  I pinched and I twisted, all through the black silk.  

"I never realized you were a tit man, honey."

"I never really have been."

I unclasped the bra.  It was one of those easy hooks in the front.  As I relieved her bra 
from its duty, I caught my first glimpse of her dark pink areoles.  My thumbs grazed her 
nipples.  I rolled us over and bent down to her breasts, sucking first at one erect point, 
then the other.  I felt one of her hands grab at my hair and push my head into her left tit 
and the other clawed at my shoulder.

"Aaron."

I lifted my head.

"Yes?"

"You're making me wet."

Our relationship before this had consisted of dirty talk and I should have been used to 
hearing this kind of thing coming from her mouth.  But I blushed, never the less.  I 
moved my right hand to the crotch of her jeans and felt the dampness.

And there was a knock at the door.

We froze.

"It's Eliza," she said.  She pushed me off of her, hooked her bra, and threw her shirt back 
on.  She tossed me my shirt.  We don't have to answer the door.  Say it, fuck face.  Stop 
the woman from opening the door.  I put my shirt on.  I was scared.  And I was frustrated.  

She certainly hopped to.  She doesn't want me, after all.  It was really just to relax me.  
Well it didn't work.

I sat at the couch as she answered the door.  I heard Eliza's voice.  I heard Virginia's 
voice.  I blocked them out and glared at the screen.  My mood had changed drastically.  I 
hoped they would be happy together.  Kimberly in high school, Sharon, and now 
Virginia—all of them going lesbian.  On me.  Of course, I was being paranoid.  But I 
immersed myself in the movie anyway.  I wasn't in the mood for drama.

***

"I told you he doesn't like me," I heard Eliza say.

"He's nervous," said Virginia.

"I'm in the room, you know."

"Really?" asked Virginia.  "Because we've been talking like you're not for the past 
twenty minutes.  And you never flinched once.  You checked out."

"It's a good movie."

"That you've seen fifty times.  Eliza came to see you and you're being so rude."

"Yeah, well I didn't ask her over, did I, you fucking bitch?"  It was mean and hurtful and 
I had said it and I couldn't take it back.  I wanted to crawl under the couch cushions.

"You know, Virginia, maybe I don't want to see Aaron again."

"I don't blame you," Virginia said, tears welling up in her eyes.  I'd never known her to 
cry so easily.  "He's turned into a bit of a prick."

I was angry.  I didn't care that Virginia was crying.  "I'm sorry I've been so rude, Eliza.  
It's just, well...I'm a bit nervous around you.  You're the sexiest woman I've ever met.  I 
suppose I don't feel like I'm good enough for the likes of you."

"Nonsense.  But maybe I should come back some other time.  You seem out of sorts 
tonight."

"Not at all.  Just a little sympathy PMS.  I've spent the whole day with Virginia and she's 
a bit cranky."

I glanced at Virginia, who was busy glaring at me.  I smiled and looked back at Eliza.  I 
wasn't nervous at all.

"What say I give you a tour of the apartment, Eliza?"

"Okay."

I only intended to take her to the bedroom.  And that's just what I did.  I took her to my 
bedroom, undressed her, and had sex.  We kissed.  I fondled.  She fondled.  My hands 
roamed her body, so much more to touch than any other woman I had been with, but the 
passion wasn't there.  It felt like vengeance sex.  I thought of Virginia in the other room.  
Virginia who was listening to us through the door.  Virginia whom I made feel like crap.  
And I didn't care.

I tasted Eliza.  I entered her.  I did everything that I had been dreaming about for months.  
But I couldn't cum.  I blamed it on Courtney and her tantric sex.  I grabbed Ally's 
forgotten dildo from the bed stand, put a lubed condom on it, and introduced Eliza to 
double penetration.  I made her orgasm.  Three times.  But I still couldn't cum.

She never noticed.

***

Thirty minutes later, Eliza made an excuse to leave.  She left the room and the apartment 
and I sat on the bed and cried for the first time since my father died when I was in eighth 
grade. 

When I finally left my bedroom, I went to get a glass of ice water in the kitchen.  On my 
way back through the living room, I noticed a dark figure sitting in the dark on my couch.  
Virginia.

I stood in the middle of the room.  I was exhausted.  I was crushed.  "Is that what you 
wanted?" I asked.

"That's what you wanted."  Her voice was weak.  

I walked to the couch and sat down.  I offered her my glass of water.  She took it and 
drank.  I didn't know what I was going to say.  I just watched her.

"I didn't want that."

Her sob came out like a laugh.  

"Virginia, she was a dream.  I didn't sleep with her when I first had the chance because I 
think I knew she was a dream.  She was what I needed to realize I didn't need Sharon, but 
she's not what I need either.  I just did everything I fantasized about doing with her and it 
didn't do a thing for me.  All I could think is that the person I really want must not want 
me."

"Why?  Why would anyone not want you?  I mean, you can be childish and you pout a 
lot and you tend to make things melodramatic, but you're...you."

"You tell me.  You wanted me with her so badly.  You answered the door and cut off the 
best sexual moments I've ever spent with a woman in my life with the woman I've felt 
the closest to for the past four months."

She put the glass down.  

"Why did you kiss her, Virginia?"

"Because you wanted to kiss her.  And I wanted to...share some sort of...physical 
intimacy...with you.  But there were rules..."

"No more rules."

***

She told me to undress and get into bed while she used the bathroom.  Eliza and I had 
performed atop the bedspread, so I replaced the soiled one with a new one before 
shucking my clothes and getting beneath the covers.  They were cool against my skin.  
But that's not why I was trembling.  I was nervous again.

There was a knock at the bedroom door.  "Are you ready?"

"I think so," I chuckled.

"Close your eyes."

"Why?"

"Just close them.  Okay?"

I closed my eyes.  "Okay."

I heard the door shut and then her bare feet padding along the carpet.  I felt her weight as 
she got into the bed beside me.  I felt the sheets move up to let her in and then settle atop 
me again.  I felt her breath against my neck and I could smell the apples.  She wasn't 
touching me.  I wanted to reach over, to touch her, but I let her lead.  I wanted to open my 
eyes, but she hadn't told me I could.

Her fingertips brushed against my neck.  Her lips were in my hair.  She sniffed.  I was 
happy I hadn't over-gelled my hair that day.  I was happy that my hair was relatively soft 
and not hard and prickly like it normally was.

She draped her arm across my chest and scooted herself against me.  I felt her skin 
touching mine all down my body.  She nuzzled her face into my neck.  I could smell her 
hair.  She stayed still for a few minutes.  I thought she might be falling asleep, her chest 
rising and falling slowly against my arm.  I wasn't frustrated like I would normally be.  
The thought of sleeping with her...and actually sleeping...was somehow appealing.  But 
my body did ache for her.  I hadn't realized how much I had wanted her...from the 
beginning I had wanted her.

I had never slept with a girl I could talk to before.  I had never slept with a friend.

Just when I thought she really had gone to sleep, she moved.  Her mouth was suddenly at 
my nipple, her tongue tracing and poking, her teeth nibbling at the sensitive nub.  I went 
instantly hard.  I heard a moan and it took a second for me to figure out that it had come 
from my mouth.

Her hands slid across my stomach and clutched my sides as she moved atop me.  My 
prick pushed against her stomach as she kissed mine.  She moved back up to my nipples, 
my armpits, my shoulders, my neck.  As she kissed my mouth, I felt myself throbbing 
against her leg.  My arms moved of their own volition and enveloped her, pulling her 
closer to me.  My hand moved to her hair and held her mouth to mine.  She moved, her 
mouth on my earlobe, behind it, my neck, my eyelid, the tip of my nose, my other eyelid, 
my neck, behind my other ear, my other earlobe.  Her pattern became less symmetric as 
she sucked at my jaw and back to my mouth.

I felt one of her hands around my wood and I flipped her over.  I opened my eyes.  Her 
eyes were closed.  I kissed her eyelids as her hand worked on my cock. I pulled it off, 
weaving her fingers between mine and lifting our hands above our heads.  I felt myself 
against her pubic bone.  I felt my chest against hers.  I kissed her deep and moved to her 
earlobes, to her neck, her collarbone, between her breasts, each nipple, each armpit, 
underneath her breasts.  I stuck my tongue into her belly button and she giggled.  I moved 
down to her hipbones.  To the soft skin where her leg bends into her torso.  To her outer 
thighs.  To her inner thighs.  I licked behind her knees, down her calves, around her 
ankles.  I gave each toe a peck.  I moved back up, back onto the bed, with one hand 
pulling the covers back up with me.

I licked along her inner thighs up to her pubic mound.  She had herself trimmed close 
except for a slightly bushier triangle pointing to her swollen cunt.  I kissed that triangle.  I 
slid my tongue down and tickled her outer labia.  She spread her legs farther for me and 
opened herself up.  I took a moment to appreciate her pussy—the light brown hair 
bordering it, the slick and soft pink, the flower, the bud.  I let my tongue slide up and 
down her crack.  I tasted from the top of her inner labia to her puckered asshole and back.  
I was careful to avoid her clit.  I pushed my tongue into her vagina—not as far as it could 
go, but enough for a moan to escape from her lips.  Until now, she had been silent.

With a lurch of her hips, my face was buried in her womanhood.  She smelled so sweet 
and musky.  She tasted sweet, salty, slightly sour, and so creamy.

I couldn't wait any longer.  I draped both of her legs over my shoulders and reached for 
her tits as my tongue found her swollen and tender little bud and began to play.  I sucked 
it into my mouth.  I moved my tongue back and forth against it—up and down—around 
and around.  I began with a slow rhythm and got faster and faster until I couldn't go any 
faster, then I'd slow back down to my beginning speed.  She humped her mound at my 
face.  She held my head in place with her hand, her fingers tugging at my hair and 
scratching at my shoulders.  I plunged my tongue into her vaginal sheath as far as it could 
go, curving it up in attempts to reach her g-spot.  I brought it out and flicked her clit and 
then plunged it again.  I kept doing this until she started moaning my name.

I took one hand from her breasts and plunged two fingers into her pussy while sucking 
and flicking at her clit.  I stroked the ridges of her g-spot.  Her humping became more and 
more frantic.  I slid a third finger in.  Her pubic bone crashed against my nose as she 
began to shake from her first orgasm.  I inserted a fourth finger as her cunt clutched at my 
fingers and throbbed around me.  I felt her wetness creep out around them.  I replaced my 
fingers with my mouth and my mouth with my fingers, sucking her juices into my mouth 
and using my index finger to rub her clit.

My cock was throbbing so much it was painful.

I looked around my room frantically.  I had used my last rubber on the dildo.  I had no 
protection.

"I don't have condoms," I said.

"Fuck the condoms!  Get inside me."

"I— Are you sure?"  I had moved up and was looking into her face—her eyes still closed.  
She opened them and looked right into me.  She flipped us over, grabbed my cock, and 
guided it into her still convulsing vagina.  

"I'm sure."

She humped her hips into mine and worked my cock deep into her pussy.  She was so 
warm and wet.  She humped more and more quickly until I felt more warmth and wetness 
spread over my cock as she came again.  Her cunt tugged at me.  She bent down to kiss 
me full on the mouth, moaning into me—my name.  

My testicles began to tighten.  I attempted to hold back my orgasm but I knew I was 
going to lose it. 

"Pull off.  I'm going to cum."

"Cum in me," she whispered against my cheek, clasping tight to my with her vaginal 
walls.

Even if I wouldn't have wanted to, there was nothing I could do about it.  I pumped my 
piston into her and exploded, my semen erupting and my balls shuddering.  It sent her 
into another orgasm and she went limp against me, her cunt milking me totally.

I thought she had passed out at first.  But she was soon kissing my chest and making 
happy little noises into my neck.  My dick was still half-erect and was still buried inside 
of her.  Her butt muscles began slowly humping.

It was my Virginia.  My Virginia.  My best friend.  My conversation partner.  It was 
suddenly very clear to me that I didn't need anyone else.  I had experienced my highest 
highs and my lowest lows that day.  I had discovered my comfort.  And there I was, 
content with my forced-platonic love having turned suddenly very romantic.

I rolled her over and began pumping my half-erect prick into her slowly and patiently.  I 
was willing to spend the rest of my life in her arms.  I could only hope that she was 
willing to spend the rest of hers in mine.  I said the words I'd been avoiding all my life,

"I love you."

"I'll bet you say that to all the girls."  Her fingers traveled down my face and she sighed,  
"My Aaron."  The look in her eyes was a new one to live for.  I had, once again, become 
a superhero.
