It always starts like this. Smooth skin and a floor full of shed clothes. Her lips are sweet like honey and her eye lashes tangle together. Our bodies move in time with each other. We're wet and slick as we build towards the peak of the night.

That's how it starts and unfortunately I never get to the end. I always wake up just before it really gets good, or at least until it gets embarrassing. My forehead drips with sweat and I kick off the sheets that are tangled around my legs.

There's a throbbing between my legs. An uncomfortable stretch of skin mixed with heat and desire makes my fingers shake slightly. I try to catch my breath, but it's no use. I need to fix this problem before it fixes me.

I slip my hand in my boxers and feel the heat instantly spread through my body. I touch the taut sensitive skin. I twitch from the contact of my fingers. Spreading the pre-cum over my shaft, I take hold of my erection and work my hand slowly up and down.

I imagine the shape of her lips. They're so plump and pink. It makes me wonder what hidden talents she has with that mouth.

Her eyes are always so bright and full of mischief. I know she's good in bed, if not for the fact I've never seen a man leave unhappy in her presence.

My hand is unbearably tight and slippery. I feel my abdomen tense as I ready myself for my climax. I think of her hands, always so pretty and manicured. They're small and dainty. Not like mine. Mine are too big and clumsy. She has artist's hands, ones that pay attention to detail and beauty.

I imagine her hands wrapped around me, and then her legs. Smooth pale skin wrapped around me. Her heat around me. My dick twitches and the coil in my stomach unwinds sharply. I feel like rock in my hands as a hot stream of cum splashes over my stomach and chest.

My hands slow the rhythm and I start to relax a little.

This is the part where guilt kicks in.

I know I shouldn't feel as guilty as I do. I'm a teenage boy ruled by my hormones. I can't control who or what I dream about; yet here I am feeling as if I've cheated.

I think about Malia and what she would think if she saw me like this. I grab a tissue from the side of my bed and clean the mess off my skin. I shouldn't be dreaming of another woman, yet alone Lydia.

I've always dreamt of Lydia. She's played the main role for so long that it becomes second nature to expect her in my nightly thoughts. She's been the mother of my children, turned into a werewolf, been kid napped by the mafia, and the most popular role of being my lover.

I've never figured out a way to extract her from my thoughts. She's like a drug. One hit and I'm hooked. I can't quite seem to shake her.

Wherever I go she goes with me, if not physically then in my thoughts. I think about what it would be like if she loved me back. Would we be any different than we are now? I don't think we would.

We banter and we fight, but at the end of the day we protect each other. We make each other lighter. She helps carry my burdens. I just wish I could carry hers.

I've distanced myself from her recently. There was a time that I would carry her purse to her room and wait for her to be safe at home. I would follow her around until I knew she was out of harm's way. I would listen to her and ask about her day.

Now, I try to avoid doing such things. I have Malia now, and I like her a lot. She's honest and beautiful. She gives me something to look forward to.

I help her with school and she helps me forget all of the horrible things I've done. I forget about how I hurt Scott and tortured my friends; how I blew up a police station and butchered innocent people. I killed Allison. She's gone, and it's my fault. It's better if I just forget. If we all forget.

That's why I can't look at Lydia. When I look into Lydia's eyes I see pain. I know she's going through things that she never talks about. I just don't know how to help her. I could be there for her and listen to her problems; but that would only make me think of her more.

It's selfish, I know. I shouldn't be thinking about how things would be better for me, but in all honesty it's better for everyone. I won't hurt Malia, I won't get rejected, and Lydia won't lose a friend. The pack would be stronger than ever and no one would get hurt.

When the Nogitsune had control over me everyone got hurt. I could hear, feel, and see the things happening around me; but it was like watching a movie. I couldn't do anything to prevent the outcome.

Whenever I thought of Lydia darkness would consume me. The Nogitsune would think of doing horrible things to her. I tried my best to suppress the thoughts from my mind. I wouldn't let that thing hurt her.

Sometimes I think about what really happened in the tunnel that night. I know how the Nogitsune thought. I also know that it hated Lydia. The evil inside of me wanted to take her light and snuff it out like the flickering of a candle.

When I asked, she told me nothing happened down there. The Nogitsune just scared her and trapped her in a cell. I hope with all my heart that's true.

I promised myself that I would be a better friend to her, even if it cost me my relationship with Malia. Every time I think about walking to Lydia's house I chicken out and pretend that I'm too busy. I lie to myself shamelessly.

Lying in this bed alone makes me feel alone and tired. I bet that's how Lydia feels every day. I can't tell Lydia how I feel, but that doesn't mean I can't still be her friend.

Tomorrow when I go to school I'll try talking to her. I'll tell her I'm sorry for not being there. I'll tell her anything to make her happy. This is where things are going to change.

I just hope I can keep my feelings out of our friendship.