Ah, what amusement she surely must derive from playing this cat and mouse game with me. Oh why must she

keep me blindly following a string?! Can’t she not see that we both desire something more than carnal, mindless flirting? I

am convinced now that she is truly keeping me on the edge. I sigh my displeasure, much to her dismay.

"A'nelle, what's wrong?" She lays her cards face down on the carpet, concerned deeply, but not looking me

direct in the eye.

"Trivial matters," I insist, prompting her to continue on in our eight 'Uno' game.

"Okay. . ." She agrees, doubtful though returning to the game. Trish always did have a way of avoiding

speaking her mind.

If she wants to play coy, perhaps I should become more direct. (As if the steamy looks and lingering touches

were not clue enough.)

"Trish," I say, exasperated, and put my hand over hers to bring down the fan of cards hiding her blushing

face. I always did like it when she blushed, just turning rosy around the cheekbones and a definite red across the bridge

of her nose. Oh how her rich mocha-colored eyes can cause my heart to pound. And when I think of nibbling just so

gently around her rouged lips. . . It sets my heart aflame!!

"What is it A'nelle?" Trish looks up into my multitoned eyes, then back down. A shudder passes through my

heart.

"Stop playing with me," I say, straight forward, and she gasps when my fingertips flutter over the back of her

hands.

"A'nelle. . . I. . ."

"Hush. . ." My voice commands her. "You know exactly what I am getting at."

"No--No I don’t actually, please explain," Though she pretends not to understand, I know she does. It churns

me even more to see those avoidant eyes flicker with something like fire. It flashes with just the barest hint of deeper

possibilities.

"There is nothing to explain Trish," I downtone my voice, stretching my torso across our gaming area, and

rest my hands at either side of her hips. "The eyes, the smirks, the suggestions. . ."

"A'nelle, I haven't suggested anything to you!"

Beginning to feel the hazy edges of doubt creep up on my earlier assumption, I shove it all the way back, and

lightly brush my lips over hers. How I've wanted to do that for so long.

"I'm not gay," She whispers meeting my eyes not three inches away. She bites her lip nervously, yet she has

not moved away. This provides me with enough of an excuse to claim her soft and pliable mouth again. Gently, with

utmost precision, I coax her lips apart touching just barely the tip of my own tongue to hers.

She tastes of black licorice and just a hit of something exotic, like cajun spice. More! My mind screams at

me, but I allow her only the room to breath. I think back to her earlier statement. Gay? Am I a lesbian? I know I like

her, and she is the only one. The only girl. So I guess not.

"Neither am I. . ." I finally reply. "I've no idea what's come over me." Is it safe?

Hesitantly, she rests her hands atop my own and nuzzles in the slightest of ways until I give in and taste the

sweet wetness of her mouth again. Never in my life had I been so bold.

"Perhaps I have been leading you on A'nelle. I believe we're both in need of a little contact comfort. It's

been a while for you, hasn't it?" Trish slowly slides her fingertips up my bare arms. I shiver, a blanket of gooseflesh

covering my body.

Boldness leaps out of me once more as I once again capture her eyes. It indeed has been too long. Perhaps.

. . no. . . I nudge her backwards and she complies. I watch as her hair spills in ceaseless patterns over the old greywash

carpet. Our card game becomes long forgotten and I straddle her hips with my own.

Her face becomes inflamed, serving to ignite me further. The slight pressure of my hips against her lower

abdomen produces the sweetest of sounds from her full wet lips. I kiss them again, getting an eager response as I rock

my hips in the slightest of ways.

A woman becomes so used to her own body, that it is not usual to wonder what another female may be like.

After all, it is all the same anatomy. I used to believe this, but as I touched Trish's face, I found her cheek to

curve with just the slightest difference. Her breasts, though it took a lot of my courage to venture there, were acutely

round and heavy in my hands. The stiffening peak of her bosoms felt alien under the rough pads of my thumbs, though I

had felt my own on numerous occasions. I am surprised now to say, that even the curve of her hip and the swell just

before the juncture between her thighs was even more subtly different.

"A'nelle!" Her gasp is loud and audible, and my ministrations set her heart racing under the hot wetness of

my mouth. It travels over her perspiring pulse some of her smoky flavor lingering in the saltiness of it. "This has got to be

blasphemy!"

"Do you care?" I ask squeezing her plump breast in the cup of my fingers.

"We cant do this, A'nelle, if you don’t stop, I'll need a change of pants!" Trish blushes then at admitting her

own arousal. Oh, stir the fires in my heart! Be still, quiet yourself! She wants it. . .

"Then why don’t we just get them out of the way?" I smile coyly and slide a hand softly between the valley of

her breasts, down her taut stomach, and squeeze my hand in so it is nestled sweetly between the tight juncture of her

legs, pressing lightly into the source of what she speaks.

"A’nelle--I can’t do this yet. . .I don’t think I'm ready," She begins to worry her lip, her hands drawing me up

and away from her treasured secret spot.

"But Trish, if you like it--"

"I do! A'nelle. . .I love it when you touch me," She blushes deeper at this. "Even before it got intimate.

Your hands churned something in my belly. I'm just not ready to 'be' like that yet. I don’t think I can admit fully to what I

feel."

"Believe me, what you sound is enough!!" I kiss her hard anyways, then get up to my feet.

Her hands shake as she loops the buttons back on her shirt, the wonderful swell of her peachy breasts

disappearing. I help her to stand, sensing her awkwardness and desire to both leave and stay. When she heads for the

door, I stop her with an arm around her thin waist.

"Promise you wont always run from me Trish. It doesn’t have to be love. . ." I plead, my lips softly speaking

into the cone of her outer ear.

"I'm not running A'nelle. Even if we never love each other, I'll always enjoy your touch." She smiles and

quickly kisses my mouth before I release her. "See you tomorrow in school." She says, then is gone.

The whole problem stands to be that, I do love her. I know that someday in the future, I may be the cause of

her needs, screams, pleas, and carnal pleasure. . .But it scares me to think that she may never love me in return.