The Morning After

Warm blurs of light play over the darkness of my closed eyelids. A warm summer breeze cools my skin, fighting to keep me comfortable against the sun's heat. The sounds of people swimming and children playing nearby make me feel like I could be any age, in any year, and the pool is simply an eternal place where summer never ends. Of course, things are a bit different this time. I can't relax like I used to while sunbathing. I don't even want to relax. A nervous and slightly painful excitement keeps jabbing me in random places, urging me to get up.

I crack an eye open and look over at Tara, lying on the towel next to mine. Her smooth, lightly browned, and slightly sweaty skin only increases my nervous excitement. Her long blonde hair flits in the breeze, so she can't see me looking at her. I look over, but linger mostly on her smooth chin and soft lips. I keep recalling how it felt to kiss her, and, sometimes, I can almost literally feel it on my own mouth like it's really happening. I wonder if I will ever get to kiss her again.

It's been like three days, and we haven't said a word about what happened. It hasn't been weird at all; in fact, she's been insanely flirty and we've been inseparable. It's been keeping me in a state of constant nervous excitement, but it's almost worse than an awkward falling out, because I have no idea where we stand. I'm not even sure which I want to talk about more – the fact that we had sex, or the fact that I said I loved her... and that she said it back. Oh, Angela, how do you get yourself into messes like these?

I'm not even sure what I should do or feel. Should I be flirty and happy? Should I be worried? Are we... together? How would that even work, the two of us... dating? The word 'dating' sounds so weird and scary in that context. How does a girl go about 'dating' her best friend, anyway?

"Hey," a male voice says from nearby my left side. I look over and see a guy that's about our age smiling and looking at me. He's wet from the pool, and has very nice abs. I swallow nervously, not sure what I should do or say.

"Uh... hello," I reply, and laugh nervously.

"I'm Dan," the guy says. "We're playing water basketball if you two want to join us."

"Uh, maybe in a minute," I say reflexively, very uncomfortable, and wondering what Tara is doing or thinking to my right. Dan finally turns around and runs back to the pool. I turn and look at Tara, and notice her watching him run back. She looks at me and grins.

"Hey, he's hot," she says suggestively. "I think he likes you!"

The bottom of my stomach literally falls into oblivion. I fight to keep a straight face. What the hell is that supposed to mean? Are you trying to tell me something, Tara? Here I am going crazy wondering what's going on between us, and you're checking out guys? I feel a strong reaction coming on. I don't know what – throwing up, slapping her, running away, or just plain dying on the spot – but I fight to stay calm. Come on, Angela, you can't assume the worst! Tara's been sort of jealous of you and other guys for years, right? The tables are just turned for once, that's all. Right?

"Remember that one guy two summers ago?" she asks, even though I didn't say anything. "We always meet the cutest guys at the pool."

But then how could she want me for all those years, finally get me, and then not care anymore? How could we connect so deeply three days ago and now...? Something about this whole thing is starting to really piss me off. I just wish I knew anything for certain!

"I think I'm going to change my bathing suit," I tell her, lying. "This one is itching me."

She nods in response, her bright blue eyes completely innocent, as if to reflect the nonchalance of summer. Is she even thinking about any of the things that I'm in turmoil about? That really settles it – I'm pissed off. I don't want to go back to casual and fun-loving Angela and Tara. I don't want to go back to being flirty shallow girls at a pool. That was fine in high school, but the two of us are going to be seniors in college next year.

"Come with me?" I ask, faking innocence to match hers. She has no idea that I'm about to blow up on her and tell her off, and probably never talk to her again. I've seen her do some shitty things to the guys she was with in the last few years – never committing, leading them on, being almost callous sometimes – but I never thought she would pull the same thing on me. She was always a deep, interesting, normal person with me. I never saw this coming. She's hurt me, hellishly bad, in a way that I never expected. I have to clench my left hand to keep it shaking from anger.

"Okay," she says in agreement, and gets up to follow me.

The private changing room for girls is only forty feet away, but it feels like the longest walk of my life. I think about all the things we've been through as best friends in the past eight years. We weren't even best friends for all of those years – sometimes casual friends, sometimes enemies – am I just imagining all of this? But I can't be! I remember that quiet and dark night, our last year in high school, on the last trip we ever went on with our high school's ski club; by ourselves in a corner, her sad face framed against the big lodge window with its dark and snowy slopes - I was there when she got the call about her dad dying. I was the one she talked to. I was the one that was there for her, even though we had been fighting before that. That meant so much to me, mattering to someone so much like that. How could she throw that all away like it was nothing?

I round the corner of the pool, halfway there. And when we were roommates our freshman year of college, when that asshole ex-boyfriend that hit her kept coming around, and I would casually answer the door holding a bat and ask him angrily how his day was going to scare him away... that was so much fun, and I felt so important. Does she not give a shit at all about that? Or last year when...

I'm there. I push open the old wooden door, its white paint faded and cracked. Every detail of the small room seems to etch itself indelibly in my thoughts, down to the wet footprints on the concrete floor and that universal smell of chlorine and breeze that seems to be at every pool all the time. I close the door, so that nobody will hear me yell.

Then I turn to look at her, and I find her standing there, watching me. Her blue eyes betray a fearfulness, and her blonde hair remains unkempt, because she hasn't bothered to fix it.

"You didn't bring another suit to change into," she says flatly and bitterly, like a girl suddenly realizing that she's about to be executed. She knows I'm about to flip out. She knows our friendship is over. She knows what she did, the same thing she did to every other person who tried to get close to her in the last few years. Her words are flat and bitter... but why are her eyes afraid?

She stands there like that, awaiting the chopping block, for several silent moments. I stand where I am, frozen... angry... and a million other things. The sounds of splashing water and of people talking out by the pool reaches us faintly through the heavy wooden door.

I can't seem to move or do anything. The more I think, the more my confusion grows. Why would she say and do one thing, but feel another? Why has she been such a flighty tease and then a callous bitch with everyone since her dad... oh, no. Angela, you've been so stupid!

Tara turns her mouth up into a sneer, daring me to go ahead and yell already. Even as her bitchy expression fades, I see her regress into a fearful nervousness for a moment before fixing her mask of uncaring. I've been so, so, so stupid... it's so obvious now...

I step forward, and she takes one step back, as if afraid I'll attack her. I step forward again, but her back is against the wall of the small room, and she has nowhere to go. I approach her, slowly reaching out my hand, so as not to scare her. My hand finally comes to rest on the side of her face, against her soft cheek and neck. I reach my other hand up, framing her face, and I see her mask of uncaring crack, and her fear show through. I know I'm right, now.

I lean in and kiss her on her cheek, near my right hand, and she doesn't react. I kiss gently across her cheek until I reach her lips; those soft lips that I have been dreaming about the last three days. I enjoy the sensations immensely, but, still, this isn't about me. I want to make her feel better. She doesn't kiss me back. She just sits there, not reacting, frozen with fear. I peck her on the lips a few times, then pause.

"I'm not going anywhere," I tell her firmly. "Seriously. Even an angry chick holding a baseball bat couldn't scare me away."

Although she makes almost no sound, I feel her laugh. Her face twists up into a mixture of humor and pain. I kiss her again, and, slowly, she starts to kiss me back. Her hands wrap around my bare waist and pull me closer, and she kisses me desperately hard. I feel enormous relief and excitement as our passion from a few days ago starts to return. Her tongue slips against mine, and her soft lips feel amazing. She pulls me very tightly close, and I kiss her as hard and as deeply as I can. I almost stop for a moment when I taste salt and feel her face with mine, finding it wet with tears, but she pulls me close, hard, the moment I start to pull away. I just nod gently as we kiss, and feel her fingers pull happily on the bare skin of my back in response. Yes, Tara, I think to myself, I'm here. I'm not going to suddenly leave you. I can't believe I was ever angry enough to consider it.

As I let go of her face and run my hands across her smooth back and the string of her bathing suit, I realize that this is much different than three days ago. She grabs me hard and kisses me harder, as if desperate for connection. I respond by pulling her close to me just as hard, feeling as much of her tummy and legs against me as I can. Her breasts press against mine, our two swimsuit tops crushed between us. I've never kissed anyone so passionately! She must really be afraid, somewhere deep, of people close to her leaving her, and I am the first person in years to finally get it. I care about her so much – I want to help her feel better, happier.

I let my hands wander lower as we kiss, still pressed together, eyes closed. I feel her nod vigorously in between our kisses, and one of her hands grabs mine and moves it straight down to her bathing suit bottom. As best I can while we are pressed together so tightly, kissing, I slide my hand under her suit bottom and feel the small patch of hair just above her sex, thinking about how I kissed there a few days ago.

I touch lower, feeling her lips. They're slightly cold, even after laying out under the sun for awhile, because we've been swimming. I cup her sex, laying my middle finger right down her slit, and start to move my hand up and down, feeling her soft skin slide with me. I open my eyes and finally break off our desperate kiss, and lean my head a little past hers, so that I can keep my body close and still use my hand. Her warm breath runs across my ear as I rub her.

"It's okay, it's okay, I'm not going to leave you," I say softly next to her ear, and then press my face into her tangled blonde hair to get my body angle right.

I start to feel wetness creep from her and onto my middle finger as I rub her, and I start sliding my finger in her, feeling her inside for the second time. She clutches me, urging me to do it faster, or harder; I oblige the best I can, rubbing up and down faster and curling my middle finger up inside her as I do. I hear her breathing quicken next to my ear as my finger reaches a certain spot inside her, and I keep my finger sliding against it as best I can in her wet folds.

Her tummy starts to heave and her fingers clench me painfully. I keep fingering her, worried only about making her feel good, until I hear the most beautiful sound I've ever heard. With my face pressed into her blonde hair, I hear her breathing and slight gasp as she orgasms right next to me. I feel the heat flush through her body and the anxiety drop out of her muscles. If I wasn't sure before feeling such an intimate moment pressed up against her, I'm certain now – I love her. I'm not even thinking the fact that I just fingered a girl to orgasm; I'm only worried about whether she feels better. I take my hand out of her suit bottom, and put my arms around her back.

Finally, she relaxes, resting against the wall with her arms wrapped around me. I stay right where I am, my head right next to hers, holding her. We stay like that for a few moments, and I wonder if she is still freaking out. Finally, she laughs softly.

"Sorry," she whispers. "I guess I'm kind of a mess."

I smile, pressing my grin against her ear so that she can feel it.

"You think I don't know that by now?" I whisper back.

She laughs again, and it makes me feel really good to feel her happy again, like she was before this all started. For a few moments, I just feel her heart beat against my left breast. She's slightly sweaty, too. I find my own heart racing a bit, for several reasons, not the least of which is her close and warm body and hot breath on the side of my face.

"Hold on," I tell her, and quickly open the changing room door and peek out. I don't see anybody looking my way, and it's late in the day, so I doubt any new people will be coming in the next few minutes to change. I close the door again, and relock it. I turn to face her, grinning. Her bright blue eyes watch me with a mixture of relief and excitement.

"What -" she starts to say, but I silence her with a finger against her lips. I gently take her by the shoulders and move her around to sit on the one wooden bench in the small room, with her back against the wall. I look around for something soft, but don't find anything. I eye the concrete floor, wondering how long my knees will last on the rough surface – but then I have an idea.

I look down at her, matching the gaze of her bright blue eyes, and smile as I reach behind my back. She smiles back and bounces her body a little bit, both nervous and excited. I see her sneaking glances at the door, afraid somebody will come knocking, so I reach down a hand and touch her chin gently but firmly, bringing her attention back to me. She nods in understanding, and I reach back again to finish undoing my swimsuit top. It's not much, but it'll protect my knees. I lean down slowly to put it on the concrete floor, stopping halfway down when her hand touches my side and she leans forward for a quick kiss. She bites my lower lip gently, then leans back again, letting me resume my journey.

I move around a little, getting my knees right on my swimsuit top, and then I lay my arms on her legs. I keep my eyes on her. I just keep thinking to myself - fun, cute, vulnerable girl, do you know how much I care about you? It surprises me just how strongly I want to make her feel good. I untie the two sides of her suit bottom, but don't move it just yet. I kiss her tummy, feeling her breathing, then kiss downward. She jumps a little as I accidentally tickle her, so I move to her thighs, biting them gently.

I kiss closer and closer, and she adjusts herself to keep a comfortable angle for me to look at her bright blue eyes. The smile on her face is all the encouragement I need. I kiss her small patch of blonde hair. I can already smell her arousal, even mixed with the smell of chlorine and sun-tan lotion as it is. I have never been this excited to go down on anyone, never felt this strong connection with anyone. My feelings for her get stronger with every shared emotion that passes from her excited eyes to mine.

Finally, I grab her suit bottom with my teeth, and drag the top end out, dropping it and letting it hang over the edge of the bench. I move back in, pushing her legs apart a little more, and kiss the top of her sex. I'm overwhelmingly attracted to her. With no worry or hesitation, just adoration, I suck on her lips lightly and begin tonguing her wet folds. Her taste is amazing; musky, intimate, unique, even slightly spicy. It's everything I've been missing the past three days. I glance up, noticing a flare of pleasure pass across her cute face, and seeing that drives me wild.

I slip my tongue in as far as it will go, tasting her deeply, and trying to rub that same spot with my tongue that I did with my finger. I can't nearly reach it at all, but having my mouth pressed up against her wet folds feels amazing. The same thoughts just keep cycling in my head – I want to make you feel good, I want to make you orgasm, I love this, I love you – and I slide my tongue up her slit, stopping to lick her clit softly.

I circle my arms under her knees and over her legs, so that my fingers can reach the top of her sex. It's difficult with this angle, but I manage to hold back her folds and pull the hood of her clit back, exposing it completely. That cycle of thoughts about loving this drives me on, and I don't even think about the fact that I'm going down on a girl and enjoying it immensely. I rub my tongue up and down against her exposed clit, and her entire body tenses. I look up as best I can, but her eyes are closed, and her face is clenched with strong pleasure.

Come on, I think to myself, I want you to orgasm like crazy! I want to hear that breathing and that gasp again! I lick her up and down, and then in a circle, and then place my mouth against the top of her sex and start sucking gently while flicking my tongue against her clit. She jumps uncontrollably, but I hang on, intent on making her feel incredible and feeling her orgasm against my face. Even three days ago I wouldn't have believed that I would ever feel this way, but I do. It's different this time. I'm not just a straight girl interested in experimenting anymore. I'm in love with a girl! I love pleasuring her, and love her taste and scent and wetness and everything else that comes with having sex with a girl. I want more of this! It's so intimate, so fulfilling, so much fun – I really can't see myself, ever again, going long without wanting to lick pussy. That thought fills me entirely as I lick and suck, lost completely in my best friend's sex.

Finally, her body goes rock solid as her muscles tighten, and I hear her struggling not to cry out. I keep sucking on her and flicking my tongue against her clit, but slide a finger gently in her to feel her walls clench against me – my favorite, most intimate part. I listen to her intense breathing as she orgasms, and feel the heat rush through her again. From this angle, her face is intensely beautiful, as pleasure rushes visibly across her features. I keep going until her hand finally touches my cheek, stopping me, and she opens her bright blue eyes again.

She looks almost dazed for a moment, as she comes back from a world of pleasure. I straighten up, knees starting to hurt even through my top on the floor, and she leans forward to kiss me deeply. I'm surprised to feel her lick her own wetness from my lips and cheeks and chin. She leans her head against mine, smiling.

"Excuse me, is anyone in there?" a woman's voice comes from outside.

We look at each other in laughter and terror, and rush to get dressed. Just before I open the door, she kisses me on the lips quickly, and smiles. I'm so buzzed with excitement and happiness, I just float past the woman and her daughter who are going to use the changing room after us. We return to the towels to lie out again... and reality starts to return. What if Tara just goes right back to how she was, I think to myself, to pushing me away? It's all well and good to be in love with a girl and love having sex with her behind closed doors, but real life is way different. I start to doubt everything as I lie there, eyes closed against the afternoon sun.