She was an angel. A beautiful angel with her thick, shiny black hair flying behind her as she ran onto the field. And then, just before the game started, she reached down to her ankle and removed a shiny red ribbon. She grabbed her hair, somehow taming it in her hand before tying it tightly with the ribbon. Now she was an angel on the field, with that red ribbon in her hair. Her ponytail bounced with the pumping of her legs up and down the field. The game passed in a blur. It wasn't important. Suddenly, she was there, her soft, lightly tanned skin, her almond-shaped eyes crinkling at the corners with a bright smile. Her small, pert breasts pressing oh-so-gently, and her thick, thick hair, coming down in waves over her shoulders. The light scent of cherry blossoms, and then she was gone again, leaving her red ribbon waving merrily in the wind.
Allie woke abruptly, groaning as her head pounded in exhaustion. She rolled over and glanced at the clock. 4:30 a.m.
Perfect
. She had at least two hours before she had to get up for school, and it seemed like she was never going to get back to sleep. Deciding that it was to her advantage to take her shower early and watch the sun rise over a cup of hot tea, she shook her tangled red-blonde hair out of her face, blowing a few strands impatiently out of her green eyes and away from her slightly freckled nose. She rose and slipped on a pink fuzzy bathrobe and slippers, made her way to the bathroom. She closed the door as quietly as possible and hoped that the shower didn't wake her roommate, Garrett.
She and Garrett had gone to high school together and were sharing an apartment in San Francisco while the two went to college. The apartment was pretty small, and they only had one bathroom, but they were always pleasant to each other. Plus, Garrett was gay and one of her best friends, so it was a sweet, and safe, deal. She couldn't have imagined living with some lecherous guy always trying to catch a look at her in the shower, and females without some kind of drama were hard to find.
Soaping up her body, she yawned and let her hands graze her breasts thoughtfully. She was too tired to do much other than merely rinse off, and so her shower was pretty short. She microwaved a mug of water until it was hot, and then dropped in a tea bag. Quietly moving to the balcony, she plunked herself down in one of their crappy lawn chairs and waited for the sun.
As it rose surrounded by a pink and orange sky, Allie finally thought back to her dream. It was the same one, or nearly so, that she'd been having off and on for months. She didn't have to think hard to figure out what it meant. She considered herself straight, but these dreams always made her think twice. Sure, her main sexual experiences had been with her best friend back in high school, but come on, that was a long time ago and it had never been like that with any other girl. Problem was, the girl in her dream was one she had known for about eight years, and had had a crush on her at one time, too.
"Kanya." The name whispered out of Allie's parted lips to float away on the gentle breeze. Kanya was her same age, nineteen, and attended the same college, even though they had never had any classes together. She was, to Allie, the perfect example of femininity. A sample of her ideal woman, if she were to have such a thing. Calling up an image of Kanya in her mind, she ran her mental gaze over it.
Kanya's parents had moved from Thailand to California the year she had been born, so she spoke both Thai and English. She was on the short side, around five feet tall, and slender at 105 pounds, but not skinny. Her breasts were small and firm-looking, with nipples the color of coffee with a touch of cream set off by her caramel-colored skin. Allie knew, because she and Kanya had gone to the beach tons of times together, and they changed in front of each other all the time. She also had seen Kanya's toned legs and the area between them, perfectly smooth except for a thin strip. She had been surprised at the obviously perfect texture that she'd asked, somewhat embarrassed.
She remembered the way Kanya had tossed her head, giggling in embarrassment, flushing a light pink, that Allie had noticed. "I don't shave. I wax!" she had exclaimed, much to Allie's surprise. Going back to Kanya, Allie recalled her flat tummy, and then her face, the very best part. Dark brown almond-shaped eyes, turning up at the outer corners, and a thin, soft nose with a few stray freckles sprinkled across it. Allie adored freckles on Asian women; she thought they were cute and sexy. And those lips, full without being overpowering, and always so soft looking.
Deeply lost in her reverie, Allie missed Garrett's hands on her shoulders until he began squeezing them lightly in massage. She groaned softly and then turned to face him.
"I'm sorry, did I wake you?" He gave her a strange look, raising one eyebrow.
"No, um, my alarm clock did. Where have you been? It's almost seven."
"I...what?! Seven o'clock in the morning?"
