What she does with me is like practice, in public she'd never talk to me; in private, well, that's another story. If you saw her with a boy you wouldn't think I get anything. Well, sure I guess she doesn't take it quite as far with her guy-friends; she's not a slut, just a flirt. But out where the world can see us there is no difference between how she treats me and how she treats boys, and I mean almost all boys, friends and acquaintances alike. But somewhere along the line, she decided I'm safe; she can tease me, kiss me, and sometimes even nibble on me all she wants, because, of course, it doesn't mean anything. I am, after all, your friendly neighborhood lesbian. I guess I should feel happy that she trusts me so much, because that's the real reason she does these things with me-she knows I won't tell.

Don't get me wrong, it's not so bad having a beautiful girl straddle you while lining up different types of kisses along your neck, asking, "Israel, which one was the best?" To which I reply,

"Ah, I don't know. I think you'll have to do it again," giving her my signature pervy grin before she playfully smacks my head and says,

"Pay attention, or I'll have to get rough and make you pay attention."

"Maybe I'm just a sucker for your kind of punishment."

"Pff..." she roles her eyes and goes back to kissing my neck...

ANYWAY, where was I…yeah, It's not like I don't enjoy it, it's just that being teased all the time get's old after a while. Especially when every night I dream of the conclusion to our foreplay. Each time I wake with sweat-drenched sheets and a powerful urge to find that girl and, uh never mind. But I always end up in a cold shower instead.

The worst is when she takes her shirt off. She's so proud of her impressive breasts we end up talking about them nearly every time we were alone together, or her ass, whichever I grab first. And may I just say, my good God, did she have one nice chest. Her breasts where large, but not at all droopy, like my moms. They were perfectly round and seemed to defy gravity the way that they held to the middle of her chest. And when she held them in her hands and lifted them to her chin just to see me blush, they were in trouble because I was tempted to jump her. And don't even get me started on her ass!

She comes over almost every night to tease me-well, she calls it "hanging out." But on this particular night, I was not in the mood for the casual dance of her tongue to play tricks with my sore head. My brain had been throbbing since I had gotten home from soccer-one to many glancing soccer balls to my chin I suppose…hmm, I wonder what possibly could have been distracting me? Maybe it was the thought of a certain topless girl that utterly refused to leave my mind! And that brings me to the other reason I feared that knock at my door- I was entirely too hot. And when I say, I'm hot, I think you know I'm not talking about my looks. Though, I'm not going to lie, I look pretty damn good for a butch. Tonight was the night I was going to snap.

Did I mention that I'd confessed my feelings to her before? Oh, I didn't tell you yet, did I? Yes, I am not only completely turned on by my fox-of-a fuck-buddy, even worse: I'm head over heals for her. Of course, she's always known that I enjoy her body- that's half the fun of fooling around with me. It took me a damn long time to tell her how I felt though. I feared that if she knew I'd fallen for her, she'd stop playing with me like this. But no matter how foolish I thought it was, one day the words just came spilling out. I told her I loved and she returned my words, yet she went on as if nothing had been said- as if it was a friendly gesture. She was either extremely dense or wanted to go on with things the way they were so badly that she was in denial. One way or another, I was left in the clear and vowed never to let her truly know how I felt.

But as I lay there clutching my aching skull, dreading that inevitable…

Thunk!

Thunk!

Thunk!

Shit. See, I told you, every night! Anyways, I couldn't help but think tonight would be the night that I finally caused this strange dream to end.

"Come in! It's unlocked!" I called over my shoulder not moving from my position on the bed, curled up and facing the wall.

"Aren't you even going to ask who it is?" Alice replied from behind the unopened door.

"I know who it is because it's always you." I wondered if I sounded irritated.

"Well, what if you were wrong; what if I was a mass murderer?" I had to stifle a laugh. I knew the Latina was just playing dumb, but sometimes I had to wonder.

"A murderer wouldn't knock." I played along like I always did. "Now just come in so we can stop yelling through the door." And in she came bringing that all too familiar scent with her. I knew exactly what was coming next; any second now I would feel her soft body slide in under the covers next to mine. Her breath would be at my ear any sec- the sheet lifted up and in slipped her cool, lithe frame. Her supple room-temperature breasts pressed against my hard, hot back as she snaked her arm around my waste. Her hands immediately started lazily tracing my well-formed abs, as they always did. Honestly, if I didn't have such an athletic body (so as to be somewhat reminiscent of a boy), I don't think she'd bother with me at all. (That and I have the flattest chest of all the girls in school. My rigorous work out routine keeps it that way.) Ah, and here was her breath on my neck, hot and moist; her lips grazed my skin on their way up to my ear. I guess I was more motionless than usual because she perplexedly whispered,

"Are you still awake?"

"Of course I'm awake. I just told you to come in two seconds ago, smartness."

"Well, you're in a bad mood."

"Sorry," I mumbled apologetically, rubbing my temples.

"I bet I know how to cheer you up," she said, popping the "p" at the end of "up." Her lips were immediately against my neck, trailing kisses up to my chin, the sensation causing me to stretch out and role my head back with a pleasurable sigh.

"Hmmm, your especially sensitive tonight," Alice said as she kissed back down and continued lower, now pulling my T-shirt to get at my collar bone. Her curly, long hair fell in my face as she leaned over me, and I was engulfed in the aroma of her perfume. I turned partially toward her as she continued to press wet, hot kisses to my skin. I felt her teeth lightly sink into my collar bone, and I uncontrollably let a low moan escape. Damn, I hated it when she knew I was enjoying her handy work. I couldn't take it anymore. I wasn't going to let myself completely snap, but I was going to do something I didn't do often-encourage the next phase of our practice session.

I lifted my hand to her chin and gently tilted her away from my upper chest --though probably not in time to save myself from the hickey she had been working on, boy am I gonna get an earful-- steering her back up to my face. I eagerly guided her lips towards mine. It always surprised her when I was the one to initiate the kissing. Her fingers weaved into my short hair as I pulled her closer. I imagine her eyes got even wider when I forwardly slipped my tongue into her mouth-this I almost never did before her. She pulled away and looked at me with a triumphant smile; I guess she thought she had successfully gotten me out of my bad mood. She was wrong.

She tucked her hair behind her ears and rolled me completely over so that I was flat on my back then climbed on top of me. Ah, once again I was being straddled by this beautiful girl, but tonight it would be too much for me to handle. It was then that I noticed she had a short skirt on instead of her usual mid-summer Daisy Dukes, and right away I knew I needed to stop before I ended up ripping those tight clothes right off of that curvy body of hers.

I frowned as I let my hands drift over her thighs and up to her hips. I cocked my head to the side, furrowed my brow and let out a deep sigh of frustration. My eyes flitted around the room searching for the words to get out of this situation without offending her. She peered at my face for a while, obviously noticing my depressed look.

"What's wrong," she asked in a soft, sympathetic voice, chocolate brown eyes locked with mine. When I didn't answer, she frowned with a genuine look of worry- and a hint of lust. I looked away from her. "Are you sick?"

"No." I said, shaking my head and looking back at her. I wasn't quite yet ready for her to leave because of my own selfish, dangerous pleasure at having her warm weight on my hot lap, which was quickly getting hotter. 'There's no way she doesn't notice that,' I thought. I was quiet as I blushed, and she looked on.

"Well, what's wrong?" she asked more persistently. I didn't reply as my eyes still flickered about in the darkness not able to meet her gaze. "Fine. I can wait all night if I have to, but you will tell me what's going on." We'd been doing this far to long for me to bluff my way out of this one now. I opened my mouth, but closed it, like a fish taking in its last breath of air.

I looked at her and again opened my mouth. My hands lay gently on her waste; I keenly felt the heat I was generating against her body. She had to feel it too. I wondered what she was thinking. I wondered how she felt perched on top of me like that, soaking in this generous amount of heat that was radiating from me like I was some kind of human furnace. She quirked an eyebrow as if to say, I'm waiting. I took a sharp intake of breath.

"I love you," I said so quietly it wouldn't have been audible had the room not been completely silent aside from the sound of our steady breathing. She smiled but still looked concerned.

"I love you, too. Now are you going to tell me what's wrong or not?" Of course, I should have known! It didn't work last time why would it work now! I had to spell it out for- …Ya know, I had already come this far, I might as well go on and make things perfectly clear, once and for all! I sat up scooting her from the region of my stomach to my, neth-uh…lower down…on me. This did not help the already tense situation and caused me to feel the urge to tighten my grip on her hips; both of my hands now pouring heat into her as I started to sweat.

"I want you," I blurted out.

To my dismay she made a face like she was going to laugh and in fact had to bring her hand up to cover her mouth so as not to laugh right in my face. "That wasn't supposed to be funny." I said seriously, scrunching my eyebrows. It was as if she had heard some joke that I wasn't in on as she continued to giggle into her hand. She climbed off of me and lay down on right side of the bed, and I sat up and knelt next to her. When her giggling finally subsided, she fixed me with a serious look I had never seen before. She almost looked sad, but she also looked, dare I say, sexy. She stared at me for a while as if she was trying to tell me something with her eyes. Something I did not get. Finally she said sounding almost worried,

"You really don't know do you?"

"Know what?" Okay, that was it, she'd gone crazy. What the hell was she talking about! And then she spoke and made me feel like I was the one who'd gone nuts.

"You have me. You've always had me."

She said this in such an honest, sensual way that it left me with my mouth hanging open, a stupefied look on my face. She caressed my check with her left hand. "You can be such an idiot sometimes," she said with a small smile shaking her head. Finally I was able to vocalize a:

"Huh?" Well, I was sorta able to vocalize. There wasn't much of anything coherent going on in my head at this point.

"You told me you wanted me. You sounded so concerned, too. I'm surprised you don't already know- I'm yours; you have me. You don't need to want me because you've had me for a while now. Actually, I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to take me." She gave me that sexy smile of hers, and at this I had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming.

"Bu…" I was speechless for a few minutes, trying desperately to process this unreal situation. "But you…like boys."

"Really? You really think I'd come over here every night if I was still chasing boys? I thought you knew I'd given that up to be with you."

"But we've never talked about this."

"I though it went without saying. I mean, I hold hands with you on the way to school and sometimes in the hallway, for God's sake!"

"But you flirt with everyone like that." Don't you just love how I was starting every sentence with a big "but." I just couldn't wrap my head around what we were talking about!

"What? I don't hold hands with anyone but you! You are so dense. You know when I look like I'm flirting it rarely means anything. That's just how I am; we've talked about this."

"Yeah, that's why I didn't think what we've been doing together meant anything. I thought I was just practice."

"Well, I guess it started out that way. But then I realized I loved being with you more than anyone else. Then you told me you loved me that one day, and I guess, I just figured we'd been dating since then. I mean, we go to the movies together, we go out to eat, we sleep in the same bed almost every night. What about that doesn't seem like dating to you?"

"Well, you still flirt…okay, but we clarified that..." I had to think…crap. Maybe we were dating…wait, "We don't have sex."

"Yeah, and like I said, I was beginning to wonder why that was myself. Well, now I know; I can't believe you didn't know we're together!"

"I can't believe you didn't tell me!" Then we just stared at each other for a while. "So…" I gulped, "I have you…then…I can…I mean, we can?"

"Yes," She said with a small laugh. "I love the face you're making right now. I don't think I've ever seen it before."

"You'll like this next face even more."

I moved toward her and placed my hands on the bed to either side of her. I was topping her for the first time ever in our make-out history together. And in the words of a friend of mine: Awwwe-some!