That time of the evening came quicker than I thought it would. It always does. I mean, Beth and I had been friends for years--she was just about my best friend ever and knew me longer than anyone else. And every time she came to visit me, that "end of the night" sleeping arrangement lingered in the air.
Oh, I tried to play it off--each time. "I think I'll go to bed"... "You can stay here if you like"... "C'mon, get some sleep"... etc. While I never had any real designs on hooking up with her, I can't deny that the thought was ever present in my mind every time she snuggled up next to me. "This is just a friend thing", I'd think to myself, praying she wouldn't notice the massive hard-on I'd be sporting most of the night.
I mean, Beth is just... everything I want in a woman.
She's pretty, intelligent, shapely, blessed with some of the finest breasts God ever decided to put down on this earth, and a strange sexual personality. She's curious, open, and interested sexually in a wide variety of things (which appealed to me and my fairly hard to please demands), but at the same time she's a shy girl, inhibited. Like there's a painfully erotic and aroused woman that only comes out at the right time, with the right person. She's got it goin' on, that's for sure.
It was one of those moments you don't guess happens very often. Right up there with that sinking feeling in your stomach when you fall a long ways or a strange sound that comes out as a result of laughing too hard. It happens. It just doesn't happen too terribly often.
I was laying there, trying to look like I was sleeping, trying to sleep while I was looking, and looking at who was sleeping... she was curled around my right side, eyes shut, and breathing fairly sweetly and regular. Every nerve in my body was firing like the Fourth of July and I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do. I mean, I had dreamed about moments like this all the time. Her, so innocently sleeping, and me just rolling into her, licking her lips and sliding hands to warm, wet places.
I must have layed there quietly for several minutes debating even the slightest movement--for fear of waking her and her sleepily rolling into a new position that didn't include my arm, shoulder, and right leg. I wanted to move closer, perhaps turn and put my other arm around her. I wanted to move closer and graze the harder and more erected parts of me against her in that suggestive way that has no subtlety to it whatsoever, but... no... that'd be presumptuous. She's not here to be hit on. Let the girl sleep.
But...
My right hand made a discovery. It sent back word from the New World to the King Overthinking and Queen Pulse that excited them both beyond belief. My hand, which had thought it had completed an expedition to her back, to rest there and hold her, had in fact discovered just the edge of a perfectly soft and pajama'ed breast. Large, firm, soft, entirely too erotic. The whole picture was torture as I froze for a moment trying to comprehend what was happening. I spent the next unmoving minutes in a personal tizzy... dichotomies coming and going, ethical structures being built and destroyed. Here was a girl, an attractive girl, one whom I had never seriously considered being intimate with on several levels, curled around me like lovers curl... on the other hand, she wasn't interested in me like that--or hadn't been in any serious way, she had a life outside of mine, she just wanted to nap with a friend, be held a little, be safe.
What to do?