By the time we got up the next morning, Mom and Dad had already left for work. We got dressed (separately) and went downstairs and poured ourselves some Apple Jacks. We were both in a good mood. I didn't bring up anything about our make-out session the night before, and neither did Emily.
But the slippery spot between my legs hadn't magically vanished during the night. Nope. It was still there, longing for attention. I squished every time I walked and I was afraid that if I got too close to Emily that she'd be able to smell that I was in heat, in spite of my freshly laundered panties. So I refused to sit next to her on the sofa like we usually did. Instead I curled up alone in the chair in front of the TV.
Emily sat on the sofa near me and we ate our breakfast together. Emily was bored enough to crank on the TV. As she sat there channel hopping a sports show whizzed past and we heard the announcer say the magic word. Practice.
"Practice?" Emily said brightly, her head popping up to look around. "Did somebody say 'practice'?" I broke out laughing and I was glad that I didn't accidentally shoot milk out my nose.
"Down, girl," I said, wiping milk from my mouth with the back of my hand. "I think you've had enough practice."
Emily pretended to pout. Obviously she'd enjoyed last night as much as I had, and she wanted more. I was so happy - it wasn't just me that longed for more kisses, more caresses. Emily wanted me just like I wanted her. But did we really want to go there? As badly as I wanted to, I somehow felt that we weren't ready yet. Of course, it turned out that I was wrong.
Emily left the channel on ESPN, obviously hoping for someone to use the magic word again. Finally someone did, and Emily popped up and looked around again, giggling. "Practice? Practice?"
"No," I said, using the firm tone that you'd use on a puppy dog who just chewed up your slipper. "No more practice."
Emily pouted again, but the tone was set. For the rest of the morning she took every opportunity she could to say the word 'practice.' And every time she said it, her head would pop up and look around like a kitten hearing the can opener.
Emily grabbed the remote and pointed it at the TV, changing the channels as rapidly as she could, pausing only long enough to hear what they were saying on each channel. "I need to see if I can find anybody else who's practicing!"
Have you ever tried to hear a certain word on TV? It's pretty hard, and Emily gave up trying to hear it and started making up her own to go with the shows. When she found an episode of Cirque du Soleil she said, "I'll bet they never pass up a chance to practice!" I tried not to laugh as she looked at me disdainfully and changed the channel.
She found an episode of America's Funniest Videos, and we saw a baby trying to eat with a spoon and missing her mouth. The poor kid had applesauce all over her face. "See?" said Emily. "If she just had more practice, her whole life would be so much better?"
"You know what?" she said. "You gave me way too much milk on these Apple Jacks. You know what I think? I think you need more practice!" Emily closed her eyes and pursed her lips out at me, begging for a kiss. I chuckled but stayed right in my chair. Emily waited with her lips at the ready. When I didn't run over and kiss her she acted disappointed and pretended to pout. I broke out laughing. Emily joined me and we giggled ourselves breathless.
There was no question that last night's explorations had left Emily in much the same condition they'd left me – hot and bothered and wanting more. Way more. But did she really want to go to that next step? Did I? I wished that she'd stop kidding me about practicing so that I'd have a chance to sort out my feelings.
But Emily's enthusiasm was contagious. And I found myself watching her lips and the little gap between her front teeth. Somehow that little imperfection had become the very thing that made her perfect to me. As I watched her lips it was as if everything they did was a tease just for me. I couldn't take my eyes off them. Somehow it wasn't enough just to be her friend any more. Even her best friend. I wanted to possess her, to somehow make her mine. To mark her with my scent by dragging my wet pussy up her legs.
Emily's body seemed so desirable – her taut belly and delicate fingers, those lips that I loved kissing so much last night. And what about between her legs? Was she as wet as I was? Could I make her that way? What did she taste like between her legs?
Ohmigod. Where did that thought come from? I was appalled at myself for even thinking it. But I was even more appalled at how that feeling refused to go away. It morphed into full-blown brazen curiosity. What would it be like to lick Emily's pussy? I squeezed my legs together, trying vainly to keep more juice from leaking into my sopping panties.
I had two choices – I could jump on her and start practicing, or I could try to find something else to distract her. To take my mind off kissing her.
I have no real excuse. I think that maybe it was just the need between my legs fogging my brain. The proximity of a real live sexy girl was way more intoxicating than anything I had ever concocted in my imagination. I swear I was just thinking of getting her a little more hot and bothered than she was. Teasing her like she had been teasing me with all her 'practice' jokes. That'd teach her, right?
"Come on, I've got something to show you." I took Emily's hand in mine and led her upstairs to Mom's room. Why did touching her like that send a shiver through my whole body?
"OK." she said. "What's up here?"
"You'll see."
I pulled her into Mom and Dad's room and into Mom's closet. I had to kick some of the dirty clothes out of the way to make a clear spot on the floor. The machine was still where I'd left it, tucked into a corner and hiding under Mom's nightgown. I pulled Emily down on her knees next to me. I felt like we were forming a secret club, kneeling to worship some kind of electric erotic god. Maybe that's what we were doing.
"You have to promise not to tell," I said.
"OK."
"No, really, really promise."
"OK. I really, really promise. What is it?"
I paused and pushed my hair back behind my ears, stalling and trying to decide if her promise was serious enough or not. But that was mostly for show. I was just kidding myself, because my mind was already made up.
I looked at Emily and I could see that I had her curiosity piqued. I leaned over and lifted the nightgown and tossed it away. Then, before I could change my mind, I slipped the panties off of the rubber penis shaft and tossed them too. I managed to drag my eyes away from the machine so that I could watch Emily's reaction. Her eyes flew wide and her hand flew to her mouth, trying to subdue the giggle that escaped her lips.
"Ohmigod!" she said.
Emily's hand reached out to cup the business end in her hand, just as I had done the day before. She watched herself slide her hand up and down the rod, her other hand still cupped over her mouth.
"Ohmigod!" she whispered into her hand.
"Ohmigod!" she said.
I don't think that I've ever seen Emily at a loss for words before, and I had to laugh.
"Did you try it?" she asked.
"No!" I tried to sound chagrined, as if I'd never ever thought of such a thing. "I just found it yesterday. It's Mom's."
"Duh."
Watching Emily's hand caress the plastic made me a little jealous. And wet. Her fingers were so long and pretty. I wanted her to stroke me and not that rubber thing. And I wanted that rubber thing in me. And I wanted Emily's kisses. I wanted my shower and my shaving gel and my hand. I wanted to taste Emily's pussy. I guess I just wanted everything.
Emily turned her head to look at me, a naughty grin that I'd never seen before lighting her face. I noticed that her hand never stopped stroking the shaft. It was as if she was mesmerized by the thing. When she spoke again she used a singsong voice like a six year old girl making a dare.
"Wanna try it?"
"No!" I had no trouble sounding surprised. "I didn't bring you in here to try it. I just thought you'd like to..." Words failed me. "See it?"
"Oh come on. Let's try it! You know you want to."
"No!"
"C'mon. Your parents are at work and won't get home until this evening. Besides, you know you want to. You wouldn't have brought me in here if you didn't. And you said we couldn't practice kissing. Maybe we should practice something different. Let's just turn it on and see what it does." Emily looked at me and raised her eyebrows in a mute question.
I think we both knew that if we turned it on we'd have to try it. But maybe not – we had managed to keep our hands off each other after our practicing last night. My stunned brain was flooded with possibilities and I couldn't say anything as a barrage of sexy images took my consciousness. Emily took this as an opening. Maybe it was.