Why was she doing this to me? This wonderful, terribly conflicting thing; I was crippled. I wanted to stop her, to grab her hands and push them away from me. To make her explain to me why she would show me pleasures like this. But I wouldn't have stopped her if my life depended on it. My body was hers for the taking. Every cell, every nerve was alive and on fire. I had never felt anything like it before.
She slid her fingers up and down me, from my wetness to my clit, so slowly it was torture, but the best kind. I had my eyes closed in pleasure, but when I opened them, her beautiful deep blue gaze was locked on me and it made my already pounding heart skip a beat. She brought her lips to my neck and let me feel her breath. It was hot and wet and it tickled my skin. I couldn't help but to lean my head back, to give her more space to roam. I could feel my juices leaking, and I was embarrassed at my wetness, but I lifted my hips to press against her hand, moaning.
"Do you want to know what my tongue feels like on your clit?" Her words took me aback. I stared at her, stunned. She stopped rubbing me and my body clenched, involuntarily jerking. I couldn't handle the loss of touch. It was almost painful.
"Yes, Alison, please."
"Have you thought about it before? What it would feel like?" I had.
"No."
"I know you have. I know I'm the only person you think about kissing, or touching. I know you stare at me as much as Brad does." She pinched my clit between her fingers, and my legs snapped together. She quickly pushed them open and looked down at my spread pussy. I could feel it twitching, aching for her to relieve it. I could feel the heat and the wetness and the chill of the air against it.
"I don't." She smiled at me a genuine smile.
"Emily, if you weren't gay, I never would have even gotten your shirt off of you."
She was right. If Aria or Hanna or Spencer had been asked to take their shirts off, they probably would have gone home. I had done it without question, because part of me knew that if I did she might want me. Maybe not even want me, but at least touch me, give me some sort of intimacy. But that thought was buried under excuses, rationalizations for my actions.
I tried to think of something to say but nothing came. She stared into my eyes, and me back into hers. She was right.
"Oh my God, I am gay..." My eyes welled with tears as the realization hit me. Alison suddenly looked concerned. She pulled off of me, onto her knees looking down on my figure, but then sharply away.
"No. Don't stop." I begged. She looked at me, confused. "Show me what it feels like to be loved by a woman."
Her hands found my waist and caressed up my ribs, stopping just below my breast, and trailing back down to my waist. Her grip was tight, her thumbs pushed into the soft flesh above my heat, sending waves of shivers through me. She leaned in to my face slowly, and I lifted my chin for a kiss, my eyes already rolling back in my head, but she veered to the side, her lips and breath engulfing my ear.
"Follow me." she whispered, her words alone making me moan.
To my dismay she reeled off of my body, taking off in a tip-toe run to her room, me following close behind. We ran in and slammed the door behind us. She pushed my back against the door and invited herself to explore my body with her hands, landing on my ass. With a squeeze she gave another command.
"Take my bra off, Emily."
I nodded and furrowed my eyebrows. My shaking fingers found the latch and fumbled with it for a moment before unhooking it. The beautiful thing dropped to the floor, and there she was. Even with sleepovers and pool parties, I had never seen Alison's full bare chest before, and it was almost better than I, admittedly, had imagined it.
I couldn't ignore anymore that I was most likely about to have sex with my best friend. My best friend that I had had more than one dripping wet dream about. But I couldn't help but ask, why? She was as straight as an arrow.
But I couldn't help but also think that if she was straight, she never would have even taken her shirt off.