I
love the girl to death. She's the one who's always there for me when I'm upset, she's the one who always gives me a
reality check on the "Scum" level of a guy, and she's the one who's seen me at my very worst and my very best. I
love her. For awhile though, I couldn't be in the same room with her. It
terrified me Why?... well, I'm not sure.
Let me start over.
Sex with your best friend goes something like this...
It was
summer, and she and I went to my boyfriend's house to smoke some
weed and sit in his
hot-tub... The fireflies circled slowly into the night, and as the pot set in, a hot desirous
haze fell over me that I just couldn't get rid of. No matter what I tried to divert myself with, my thoughts always settled back on what it would be like to kiss her, to feel her
breasts pressing against me, to hear her moan. "Stop that," I tell myself. "She's CHELI. She's your friend! That's not allowed!" Meanwhile, she has taken off her
bathing suit.
We sit there in silence, letting the water boil around us, smoking
cigarettes, and staring at the
stars. My boyfriend is passed out in the corner of the hot-tub on account of just being
way too fucked up, and my hormones are still racing out of control. (Do all females who smoke pot get horny? Or is this just me?) "Well, if you're taking yours off, then I don't wanna feel left out or anything..."
Off with the bathing suit... out with the
hormones. I turn and look at her. She's smiling at me, laughing a little, getting silly. "I need a
hug", she says, grinning giddily at me. Her blonde hair hangs
damp and curled on her forehead, the tops of her breasts glisten in the moonlight, and her eyes are full of... something. The same something I know I'm guilty of thinking.
Closer... Closer... There is a split second where reality freezes, and all I can hear is a
shrill voice screaming in the back of my head. "No! You have a boyfriend! What is this, you're just going to screw her in front of him? Besides, she's your BEST FRIEND... this is going to ruin everything between you two. Don't do it, don't do it!"
Aw, shutup Suddenly, my
mouth is on hers, we are on eachother, and I feel as if I don't have enough time within this life to fully get as much out of her as I would like.
I want to eat her whole. I want to consume her. I want us to be the same person in two different bodies, melting together, on fire. Twice we go at it, twice is the mixture of mouths,
sweat, sex, breasts, and
damp inner thighs.
We sit there in silence, letting the water
boil around us, smoking cigarettes, and staring at the stars.
For months after this happened, I couldn't look her in the eye. I couldn't be alone with her. I could barely even bring myself to
talk to her. Why? What the hell was I so scared of? This is the girl who puts up with my stubborn refusals to ditch certain
yucky men, this is the girl who has held me while I drunkenly screamed for an hour about how I hated my
mother for dying on me... we've shared everything, and I'm silly enough to let something like this affect me in ways it really shouldn't? Finally, a year and a half later, we are at a
position where we can comfortably talk and
joke about it... hell, we've even had some repeats... and finally, I'm facing the reality that this was probably the most intimate sex I've ever had.
We've decided that
Vermont would be too cold for a wedding. We'd rather have it
Hawaii, where we can sit on the
beach, smoking cigarettes and staring at the stars.