by November Tuesday

He is lying next to me. I don't know if he's sleeping. I don't give a damn.

There is a river of wetness between my legs. I can't get over what happened earlier today. She must have made me come twice, three times.

Still, sleep is nowhere, and my clit is hard and insistent. I rub it; small circles around the nub, dragging the skin hood over the tiny bump. Just as she had. A high keening takes flight from my throat. I don't give a fuck if it wakes him. I am coming. Coming and remembering.

I'd suggested that we enter the realm of lesbian sex, casually, as if I were suggesting this or that movie.

"Okay," she said, with the wide-eyed nonchalence that makes people think she is stupid.

I emerged from the shower just as she was getting off the phone. I speed-dialed him at work. "When are you coming home, honey?" Not for hours. I pretended to be disappointed, hung up the phone but locked the deadbolt anyway.

In the bedroom, I told her to take off her clothes.

"Lie down." I removed my towel. She peeled off her shorts and top. Freed her bouncing, pliant breasts.

I knelt before the mattress and touched her skin. Her breasts were round and ample, nipples light pink, aureole flat. Pale pink skin. A dusting of dirty blond curls between her legs.

I trailed my fingers in a wide radius around her aureola. Then, the other. The circles became smaller. I knew how to tease. A soft moan rose from her throat. Then, I was on her, belly to torso, looking, feeling the texture of her skin there, and as her nipples began to protrude, I sucked them in between my teeth, nibbled them. Fingers softly touching her thighs, her belly. Circling her snatch. Her skin was soft.

Her legs were spread a noncommittal few inches. I rocked back onto my knees and forcefully spread them as far as they would go.

Making love to the same sex is as close as man comes to instincts.

First with my breath I parted her, blowing a delicate line down her gash, trying to seperate the curls with air alone. Then, with delicate fingers that merely grazed the light hairs. I spread her vulva wide and lowered my head, taking my first lick of another woman.

It was like a baby's first milk, or honey to a bear cub.

Her scent was sweet, clean sweat, faintly like onion.

Around the pink perimeter of her clit I drew invisible circles around ground zero, moving tighter and tighter. She moaned insistently and I was surprised to learn that her moans sounded like mine. I was eating another woman's pussy. I spread the fleshy pink folds that lay prone, waiting demurely for me. Then, closer. I flicked her with my tongue, lightning fast and dripping wet with my saliva. She cried out and groaned, and I was suddenly aware of the wetness inside my own body. Her hands wound gently, startlingly in my hair and she shook involuntarily. Two fingers into her. Soft and impossibly wet. Is this what it felt like inside me?

I pulled my fingers out. They were coated in her fragrant clear juice. Then I plunged them in and sucked her clit, desperate to make her cum, frigging her and wiggling in her and licking fast and hard. My chin was wet, lips wet and her moans were rising up and up.

She came, moaning, whispering incredulously "I'm gonna come," in ever higher tones, as if she hadn't really thought it possible.

She had always made me come so quickly. She was a horrible friend but a skilled lover.

She would spread me apart with the backs of her hands, pushing apart my outer labia, cupping me to her mouth like water, sucking my clit as no one could before or since.

Once while "Behind the Green Door" played on the TV, I tried to hold back, but she was sucking the orgasm out of me. I tried to make it last, because she was stingy with her pleasure, even if her kisses were delicate. A week later I lay furious in bed after she had gently scratched the fabric of my panties, right over my clit, then announced that she was going to go get pizza. Or the night she wouldn't get me off but played endlessly with my long hair.

When the time came, it was easy to hate her.

*All names and identifying information have been changed to protect the identity of myself and others.