Turning Point

Chapter 4

Chapter 4After the lights were out that night and we were both in our beds, Angela turned in my direction and spoke in muted tones, “It occurs to me that I must’ve sounded like some kinda nymphomaniac earlier. All hyper about getting off tomorrow. It’s just that I’ve got a pretty active s*x drive and this is probably the longest I’ve ever gone without... you know... ‘taking care of business’.

“Still,” she resumed, quieter still, “I should’ve shown some restraint. I apologize if I spooked you or grossed you out.”

“No, no, not at all.” I declared emphatically. “Like I said earlier, you’ve got a spontaneity... no, that’s not really the word I want. More like ‘abandon’... that’s infectious... hell, just about irresistible. So, I admire that. I hope some of it rubs off on me.”

“Besides”, I continued, “Talking with me so openly, so freely... must mean you’re comfortable with me... you trust me. How can I take that as anything but a compliment?”

“Good.” Angela answered. “I’m glad you see it that way. But, we should stop yakking and get some sleep. Big day tomorrow.” I couldn’t see her face in the shadows, but I could hear the smile in her voice.

Unfortunately, I found it difficult to follow her instruction. Sleep was held at bay by a jumble of thoughts that would not be ignored.

Again and again, I thought of Angela undressing earlier, memory stubbornly lingering on every aspect of the act:

Her hair falling back to her shoulders after pulling her blouse over her head. Her silky skin pulled taut over her raised should blades. Bra-encased breasts drawn up with her lifted arms.

Slender, graceful fingers reaching back to unclasp her bra, and set free her bounty.

Supple back bending to remove her socks, breasts pendulous, waiting to be cradled... nursed.

Jeans gliding down to pool at her feet, confessing flaring hips, rounded derriere; inspiring wanton thoughts.

Leg lifting to pull free from jeans, revealing more coveted spectacle still: shaven, sepia outer lips slightly parting with her movement to reveal a glimpse of pink, succulent inner lips.

Was that the gleam of moisture I detected? Why not? She’d admitted that she’d been beside herself with lust recently.

What would that taste like? How would it feel? To her? To me? Would Angela want me to...

Waitwaitwaitwaitwait. I couldn’t believe my mind was taking me down that path. What in the world was happening to me?

Was I bi-s****l? Was I a lesbian? Is that even possible for me not to know this late in life? Could I have gone eighteen years and not have some inkling about myself?

That didn’t seem likely.

Well, then, is it something specific to Angela? Something in her chemistry, some quirk of her makeup, that held special allure for me?

Ha! ‘special allure.’ That’s a laugh. Angela is drop dead gorgeous to anyone with eyes.

But, I’ve known beautiful people (male and female) before and they never had this effect on me. I took to Angela immediately and I’ve never felt so close to anyone so quickly.

But, of course, caring for someone and lusting after them are two entirely different things.

Maybe it’s as simple as what Angela herself said previously. I’m just out-of-my-head horny and ready to f**k anything that moves. And I’m getting that mixed up with the genuine warmth and friendship I feel for her.

I went ‘round and ‘round in my head that night. Tossed and turned. After a while, I could hear the steady sound of Angela’s breathing that told me she was asleep. I thought of the rise and fall of her breasts atop me earlier when she reached for her pants.

A haunting memory in the middle of the night. Surrounded by the susurrus of her breathing. Immersed in minds-eye snapshots of her loveliness.

What would Angela do if I crept to her side of the room and crawled into bed with her? Just to wrap my arm around her and hold her close; feel her warmth against me again.

What would she do? Would she welcome it? Would she be appalled?

There, in the quiet and the darkness, mind working in overdrive, I was sorely tempted.

What would she do? What would she do?

But, in the end, I did not want to risk losing my friend.

I tried very hard (and very unsuccessfully) NOT to think of how beautiful she was.

And how near.