I still don’t understand why she came here. It wasn’t as if our lives were empty or lacked for happiness, but she came anyway, and then all of this darkness was dragged out of me and I don’t know how to put it back. I want her to go, but I’m terrified that she will. I want her to leave me and her sister in the peace of our life together, but the stronger, hungrier parts of me couldn’t care less about my girlfriend. I’m afraid that my girlfriend will find out, or that she knows already.

If I had been just a little stronger a few months ago, this may never have happened. It was a moment where my girlfriend was perched on a stool in the kitchen of our apartment, talking on the phone to her mother. She’s very good at false astonishment and faked sympathy; and I was paying only cursory attention, until she was looking at me with expectant eyes. I raised my eyebrows to indicate I didn’t understand what she wanted from me.

“I don’t know how long she could stay, Jessica was saying. We’re always pretty busy around here. She looked at me with the expectant eyes again, though more frustrated now than anything. I returned a glance that indicated ignorance in the subject matter, although that was not really true. I had gathered from the half of a conversation that Jessica’s little sister was leaving her sparring partner of a husband after three months of wedded bliss, and their mother thought our roomy two-bedroom walk-up was the perfect place for the sister to decompress.

I pretended ignorance because I didn’t care, and because Jessica knew exactly what I thought about Charlotte. My Jess was the middle child of her family, with a brother three years older, and then the sister who was seven years younger, which led me to surmise that the latter was the result of an error-filled evening for her mother and father. Whatever the circumstances, she was so much younger that this little sister was the apple of her parents eyes, and had been spoiled to a fault. She wasn’t responsible for any part of her life, she was miserable to be around when everything wasn’t going her way, and she ran to her father for money at least once a month. He gave it to her with little more than a stern look and a grumbled admonition.

I say I should have been stronger, because I could have ended the problem with Charlotte at that very point. Had I shaken my head and told my girlfriend absolutely not, then no little sister. But, as it was, I had been trying to win over her parents ever since we decided to move in together. They were traditionalists, ol Mom and Pop, and were unhappy about my corrupting of their daughter. Ours had been a mutual decision, of course, but I was the villain. I had every intention of marrying Jess, and I told them as much, even to the point of making a joke about sharing expenses, which didn’t go over at all well. But I was trying to get on their good side, and if Charlotte in our spare bedroom accomplished that, then I wasn’t going argue. Jess wanted me to, and that was why she gave me the look. I felt bad hanging her out to dry like that, but I was a little tired of me always being the jerk.

It wasn’t more than a day later that I came home from work and Mom and Pop were in my living room, talking to Jess about how sweet she was to take the poor thing in. And there was Charlotte, on my favorite part of the sofa. I put on my happiest face and said hello to everyone. Jess must have been lobbying in my favor, because everyone smiled back, including Mom and Pop. We ordered pizza and talked for a while, the five of us. I helped Pop move a few things into the spare bedroom, and he shook my hand. Mom hugged me when she left, and gave me a beaming, toothy smile. To top it all off, Charlotte retired to her new room when her parents left, leaving me alone with my girlfriend for the rest of the evening. Things weren’t too bad at that point.

The next day was different. I work long days at the Post Office, and I like to come home to relax for a bit before we eat. Jess works too, although hers is clerical, and she tends to be less tired. We compromise by getting cozy on the sofa for a bit until it’s time to make dinner or go grab something. I walked in the door with kicked-off shoes and ESPN on my mind. The first thing I heard was the stereo playing some pop fluff, and I came around the corner to find Charlotte laying on the couch in a tank top and underwear. She jumped up at once and scrambled into the bedroom, shouting apologies the whole way. When she came back out, there were sweatpants over the underwear.

“I’m so sorry, she said, both hands cupped around her mouth like a beak. I thought Jess came home first.”

I laughed it off. I’m sorry, too. No, Jess is in the middle of a project, and she’s had some late nights getting it done.”

Charlotte shook her head. Sorry, I feel like such an idiot.”

“Hey, whatever you do in private is your business, I said, laughing. Just remember I get home about four-thirty.”

Jess came in the door about ninety minutes of awkward silence later, and Charlotte retold the story for her at once. My girlfriend chuckled, rolled her eyes at her little sister and said: Why was it okay if it was me? What makes you think I want to see you in your underwear? I was in the kitchen ordering Chinese food, and I had to ask the guy to wait a second because I was laughing so hard.

Dinner was fine, we eat there at least once a week and it’s always the same. The conversation was interesting and animated, especially considering it was Jessica’s snotty little sister we were talking to. She told us all about her marriage to Mike the drunk, the few good times they had, and most of the bad. Above all, how she realized that ten years between them was too much of an age difference. We responded with good-natured teasing and genuine concern.

Jess must have been feeling the bottle of wine we opened for dinner, because she even expressed her opinion that Mom and Pop hadn’t taken Charlotte back because they were trying to get her to grow up a bit. No sooner were those words out that we gave each other a quick, panicky look, fearing she had just shattered the pleasant buzz. But little Charlotte surprised us, and just nodded. I know that’s why, she said. And they’re probably right.”

Most of my other memories of that first evening together are blurred or lost, all except Charlotte’s tank top. She never bothered to change into other clothes during the course of the night, and as we sat talking under the bright cone of light over the kitchen table, I was staring at her breasts. The shirt was white and tight, and I was fairly certain she didn’t have a bra on underneath. I tried to look away, of course, but my eyes always found their way back. She had at least three inches of cleavage showing as she was hunched over the table talking. I tried to keep my glance moving, but that caught my eye for most of the night. At one point, her nipples were making small bumps in the fabric, and Jess got up to pour some more wine. I looked up from the tight tank top and found Charlotte’s eyes watching me. My heart shook and I must have looked stricken, because she smiled. I found an apologetic expression, put my hand to my face and mouthed the word: sorry. She returned a glance that was half smiling and the other half puzzled. Then Jess sat back down and the conversation picked back up. We all went to bed late that night.

I was tired the next day, although I had a story for the guys at work: My girlfriend’s sister is staying with us. Yeah. Eighteen years old. EIGHTEEN. Yeah. When I came home yesterday she was laying around in her underwear. Yeah. In her underwear. Yeah. Understandably, I was the hero of the day, and more than one person tried inviting himself over.

Things were more or less normal for the next week or so. Charlotte was fully dressed each time I came home, and we laughed about it each time, for good measure. Jess was finishing with her project and her work days were ending earlier each day. We decided to celebrate by going to dinner and a movie the next night, which was a Friday. In a fit of good cheer we even decided to invite Charlotte, who graciously declined and said we ought to have some time alone together.

The next day I raced home from work, excited about our date evening. Jess was already home, which I found odd, and when I walked in neither the stereo nor the television was turned on. It was curious enough that I called out and strode into the bedroom. She was in there with a suitcase propped open on the bed and throwing clothes in. Her packing was laced with angry epithets and mild profanity, which was the only kind of profanity she ever used.

“Is everything all right? I was panicked, as any man might be to come home and find the woman he loves furious and packing her bags.

She paused a moment to look at me, then look at the bags and look at me again. At once she started laughing and walked over to put her arms around me. Sorry, sweetie, she said. I didn’t realize what this might look like.”

I was laughing, too, but more out of relief. So, what is it, if it isn’t what it looks like?”

She shook her head and the glint of frustration came back. We sent the project off, but the client is wavering. Jack wants me and Lucinda to fly to L.A. and hold his hand until he decides.”

“Why can’t he just send Lucinda? She’s the manager, you just work there.”

Jess put on an exaggerated, toothy grin, and gestured to her face. Jack thinks a pretty face may be enough to sway the deal. He wants our best foot forward, his words exactly.”

I shook my head. I think that qualifies as sexual harassment.”

“Probably, Jess agreed with a laugh. I should sue.”

“I’m serious, and I showed her my serious expression to drive home the point.

“It’s all right. It’s not that big of a deal, and Lucinda thinks she needs me there. If it was anyone else I’d tell them to screw themselves, though.”

I agreed with a nod. When do you go, then?”

Jess glanced at the clock and started packing again. I’m supposed to be at the airport in an hour.”

“Tonight? But I was excited about our date night.”

She walked over, shirt in hand, to give me a hug and a quick kiss. I know, me too. It’s only tonight and tomorrow night, though. We fly in early Sunday. We’ll do lunch and a movie”

I smiled and kissed her back. I’ll take it. Let’s get you to the airport, then.”

So we packed her bag and I carried it out to my car. Where’s Charlotte, anyway?”

“I think she was going to a job interview, Jess said. You know how she is. No note, no message on the machine, just gone.”

“I thought you two were getting along.”

“I’m sorry, you’re right: we are, she conceded. There’s just a lot of years of the spoiled little girl to wade through.”

“Well, you’re doing a great job, I think. It’s a nice thing for you to let her stay with us.”

“Thank you. Jess patted my leg and grinned. It was nice of you to let me make the decision and pretend like you didn’t know what was going on.”

I smiled and ducked my head, but had no response.

At the airport she kissed me and got out. Try to be nice to my sister while I’m gone, okay?”

“We’ll be fine.”

“Thanks sweetie. I’ll call you.”

I was in a contemplative mood driving home, and I guess that more than anything explains why I was so quiet coming in the door. I didn’t think to knock, of course, because it was my apartment. I didn’t think to call out that I was home, because I was lost in irritation that my girlfriend was gone for the weekend. But I unlocked the door, walked in, and closed the door behind me, quiet as a mouse. I had taken my jacket off and was about to toss the keys on the counter when I heard the strange noises.

Instead of tossing, I set the keys on the counter and listened. At first it sounded like low talking, and as I concentrated, it sounded like crying. It was only a few steps to the bedroom where Charlotte was staying, and where the sound seemed to be coming from. When I look back on the incident, it should have been obvious what was going on, or at least a good, working guess. But the door was standing wide open and I looked in anyway.

The door was in one corner of the small room, and the head of the bed was in the opposite corner, running along the wall in my direction. My view was clear of the bed, and Charlotte lying on top of it. She was reclined, propped up on a few pillows. The first thing I really noticed was the large swath of her stomach open to my view, and as I looked at that, the whole picture came into focus. She ran her palm across the bare stomach, and up underneath the shirt which was bunched under her breasts. I watched as the hand cupped her breast under the shirt, and her thumb stroke across the stiffened nipple. Her other hand was hidden down the front of her shorts, although I could see the muscles in her forearms flexing, and the shape of her hand was moving quickly. The noise I thought was talking or crying turned out to be a quiet moaning.

I was transfixed. I have no idea how long I stood there, watching, but it could only have been a few seconds. The decent thing would have been to turn away at once, though I didn’t, so every second was just gaping. First at her feet, flat on the bed, and her legs, bent and the knees and spread apart. I watched the skin of her stomach and her own hand pulling gently at her breasts. From my angle I couldn’t see where her other hand was making contact under her shorts, but I looked at where her wrist disappeared, and what of the movement I could see.

At last I looked up at her expression as it was pinched in concentration and desire. She had a slight smile and an open mouth, and her eyes were closed. She was beautiful in this moment of pleasure, and I was more drawn to her face than anything else I had seen.

Suddenly, she opened her eyes and noticed a figure lurking in the doorway. With a sharp gasp and a violent start, she pulled her hands away from her body and pushed herself up to sitting on the bed. I jumped in shock as well, and turned and walked away from the door, calling out I’m sorry I’m sorry over and over again. I heard her feet hit the floor and quick, thumping steps over to the door. It slammed closed behind me.

I was standing in the kitchen ten minutes later when the door creaked open again. I pulled in the knob of a cupboard and stared inside as if deciding what to make for dinner, and also because I thought it looked less guilty, somehow. She appeared in the kitchen, having taken much quieter steps than those she stormed across her bedroom with.

“Hey.”

I looked over at her, determined to meet her eyes only. I succeeded in that, but in my periphery, still managed to notice she was still wearing the same t-shirt and gym shorts. I looked down at the floor and shook my head. I’m really really sorry, Charlotte.”

“That’s okay. Her tone was determined, as if dismissing my apology for being beside the point.

“No, I feel terrible. I’m sorry. I was shaking a bit now, and I was afraid to look up from the floor. I’m not even certain why, because I wasn’t afraid of her, and I could only assume it was shame or self-loathing.

“Really, it’s okay. She took a step closer. It’s not a big deal.”

I looked at her then, making as sheepish a face as I could. I should have let you know I was home. I shouldn’t have been watching you.”

Charlotte laughed then, and the sound of it washed relief over me. Don’t worry about it, she said with smile. Look at you, I think you’re shaking.”

I laughed too, less for humor than a release of tension, which I seemed to be doing often that evening. I just felt terrible. I was certain you were angry, and I didn’t know what that would do to the new relationship you have with Jess. I thought I had ruined everything for the two of you.”

“No, of course not. Why would you think that?”

“Well, the stomping feet and the slammed door was my first clue.”

Charlotte rolled her eyes. I forgot about that. I wasn’t really mad. You startled me so much, and once I realized it was you, then I was embarrassed. In fact, I came out here to apologize to you.”

“Apologize to me? What for?”

Red was spreading across her cheeks, which was charming to see. I thought it might bother you that I was doing that. I gave her a teasing look, so she continued. You know what I mean, it’s like being caught by your dad. He may not say anything, but you know he disapproves.”

I was smiling now, a genuine smile this time, and much relieved. I’m not your dad. I don’t care.”

I could see that she was relieved, as well. As if on impulse, she stepped over and gave me a hug, which I returned. Good, now that we’ve got that out of the way, she said, why are you home? And where’s Jess?”

The fiasco with the project and the ruined date night was explained as we ordered and waited for pizza. She told me about her job interview and the position she thought she was going to be offered. We spoke in the exaggerated, overly energetic tones of two people who are trying hard to reconcile differences through friendship. After dinner, she watched the third period of a hockey game on TV with me, more to be appeasing, I think, than anything. After that she excused herself to go read in her room. I resisted the urge to tease her about other things she might be doing in there.

I flipped channels for a while and settled on an action movie, one I had seen dozens of times and could watch with only half my attention. As the hour grew late, I was having a difficult time concentrating on anything but the sharply focused images of Charlotte on the bed. I felt guilty about my mental leering after our expressions of understanding, but my blood was rushing hotter because of it.

I stood up and walked around a bit, closing the blinds against the night and making sure our doors were locked. I turned off all the lights except one in the hall and Charlotte’s light was still on. I sat down to continue the movie, and decided I lay my head back and doze.

Nothing worked to clear my mind. I never fell asleep, and when I closed my eyes, the images became more clear. I thought about taking a shower and matching Charlotte’s act of self- pleasure with one of my own, but I didn’t move from the couch. It was while I was in this vein of thought that the phone rang, and Jess was calling to let me know she was okay.

We only talked for a few minutes. She gave me a quick rundown of her evening and what they were going to do tomorrow. She told me she was fine, and that her room was nice. I told her that I missed her terribly, and I wished I could have gone along. She had me write down her return flight information, and told me she was already excited for Sunday. We said I love you to each other and hung up before the long distance bill could ring up.

I flopped back down on the couch, and Charlotte came padding out of her room to join me. She sat on the other end of the sofa, using the arm rest as a back rest and folding her feet up next to her. I like this show, she said. I looked over at her, and in the darkness of the room, the light from the television and the hallway flickered and made bright spots in her eyes. Me too, I said, and before looking back at the television I looked at where her thighs disappeared into her shorts.

“That was Jess, I said. She’s doing good, and says hi.”

“Good.”

We watched TV in silence for a while. I grew bored with the movie, but didn’t suggest changing it because she was concentrated on the show. She looked over at me and rubbed her knees. I’m getting cold. Would you mind if I sat with you?”

“You want to sit over here with me? I had heard her just fine, but the question surprised me.

“Yeah. She scooted over before I could answer. You look nice and warm over here and I’m freezing. She shoved her hip up against mine, and burrowed under my arm, which I had thrown across the back of the couch. We sat like that for a minute or two, me doing my best to be a warm big brother. I confess, try as I might, my thoughts weren’t all brotherly. Some, yes, but not all. Then she shifted around, curling her legs underneath her in a ball and resting her head on my shoulder, still watching the movie. When she was done arranging herself, she rested a hand on my leg. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world, as if she had done it just because that was really the only place she could comfortably rest her hand.

I struggled with the girl cuddled up next to me, and the hand on my leg for another few minutes. I didn’t know if I should say something to her, but our friendship seemed to have taken a turn for the better that evening, and I didn’t want to spoil that by implying something that wasn’t taking place.

Then she started to rub my knee, which was just under her hand. Her touch was slow and soft, mixed with gentle scratching from her fingernails. I was drunk with the images of her, and in that state of mind I wondered if it was just a friendly caress; and I thought to return the gesture. Bringing my arm from the back of the couch, I began to run my fingers through her hair, using the same touch on her scalp that she was using on my leg. Her hair was soft, and only about as long as her shoulders. We lay in that fashion for a few moments, until she broke the silence with a soft, groaning sigh of enjoyment.

“That feels really nice, she said in a low, but distinct voice.

I turned my head around to look at her, and she turned hers to look up at me. I was going to say something glib in reply, but the look in her eyes stopped me. I’m not sure whether it was her gaze, or the slight part to her lips, but I knew at that instant that she was going to kiss me.

She leaned up, and I hesitated only a moment before leaning down. Our lips met in a very soft, very gentle touch, the kind of kiss you want for your first with a new person. We kissed that way once, then paused for heartbeat, then again, and again a third time. When we went in for the fourth, I don’t know if it was me who became more aggressive or her, or both for that matter, but we found ourselves in a tight embrace. Soon, I felt her tongue slip into my mouth, and I drew it in, and thrust my own into hers. We may not have kissed in that fashion very long, but the moments were savored.

The haze that had taken over my sense was at last penetrated by the thought that I was in a compromising embrace with my girlfriend’s little sister. I ended the kiss and sat back, meeting her gaze. She may have been thinking the same things, because an unspoken thought lie behind her eyes. I opened my mouth to speak, and she leaned forward and stole the moment in another kiss.

“I’d like to ask you for a favor, she said, a bit breathless.

I’m not sure why, but I believed she was going to ask me to never mention this to Jess, and I was more than happy to acquiesce. Of course, I said.

She paused then, as if gathering words, or deciding which order to use them. I’ve been telling you guys about my marriage, so you know what things have been like for me.”

This wasn’t going quite where I had expected, but that didn’t matter just then. Yeah, I’ve been sorry for you, hearing about it.”

“Thank you for that, she said with a smile. I was realizing at this point that I still had my arms around her, and she had hers around me. I haven’t mentioned it, but I’m sure you’ve guessed that our sex life has been non-existent since the honeymoon.”

“Sure, that makes sense that it would be.”

“So, and a slight pause, that’s why I’ve been doing that so much. You know, like today. Playing with myself.”

A ball of heat was sitting in my stomach. I still had the sense, at this point, to remember why I had stopped kissing her in the first place. What are you saying?”

She smiled and leaned to kiss me again. I’m not going to ask you to cheat on Jess, or anything. She leaned back a bit, then, and took a deep breath. I just miss having someone to take care of me, you know? I don’t like doing it to myself all the time. Another deep breath. So I would like to ask if you would pleasepleaseplease, she paused again, do it for me.”

It was a measure of how far gone I was at this point that I didn’t just say sorry, but no and go into the bedroom and close the door behind me. I wasn’t about to agree, but the idea was very exciting and the ball of heat in my insides was growing larger.

She jumped in before I could say no. It really wouldn’t mean anything, and it would just be between you and me. She was speaking fast. I would never say anything, because there would be nothing to tell. It would just be a friendly gesture.”

At that point, I was still going to say no. But I was flattered, of course, and the idea of touching this beautiful girl was very exciting. I had to look down to say it, and all I managed to say was: You know. before she jumped in again.

“If this makes the offer any better, I’d be happy to do the same thing to you that you would do to me.”

I still didn’t say yes, but I was gone at that point. I had walked in on Charlotte twice, dwelt on both times the entire evening, and now that same person was murmuring illicit promises. My ability to say no was removed. I kept my head down, and now I started to wonder how I would hide it from Jessica.

“Didn’t you like watching me play with myself?”

That brought my head up, almost against my will. What do you mean by that?”

“Just that I thought I saw a lump in the front of your pants when you were turning away. She laughed and held her hands up in a helpless gesture. Sorry, I looked too. If I walked in on you playing with yourself, I’d watch.”

I looked in her eyes, and I made the conscious decision. She had a glance filled with burning and hunger, and I dove for her lips. As we devoured each others kisses, I was moving her back across the sofa until she could lean back against the arm rest again. When she was stopped and comfortable, I pulled back a bit, with a smile, and drank her in with my eyes. She was half leaned back, the lights from the hall and the television casting blue shadows across her body. Her breasts were rising and falling, and I watched her nipples pushing the fabric of the shirt she was wearing. I let my eyes trail down her body, past her flat stomach to where the fabric of her shorts was gathered around her upper thighs. Her legs were thrown open, and I looked right between them, to where her pubic mound shaped the fabric.

I kissed her again, but just a soft touching of lips. Now the deal is, my voice was quiet, whatever I do to you, you will do to me. Is that right? Is that what you said? She nodded, the light in her eyes burning bright. I promise, she said.

I leaned forward then, bracing myself with my right arm and resting my left hand on her cheek. I stroked her face, and she smiled and closed her eyes, leaning her head back. I caressed her face in that fashion for a few moments, and then moved down to her neck. She threw her arms across the rest behind her. I continued rubbing my hands along her shoulders and arms, using long, gentle strokes. I let my hand run down her sternum, feeling a twinge as either side of my hand touched her breasts.

I’m not a lover of any sort of accomplishment, but I knew enough to keep her waiting a little while. So I drew circles around her breasts with my fingertips and leaning forward a bit to run my hand down her back a few times. I touched her stomach, moving lower with slight pressure and a back and forth motion. I cupped her hips, feeling along the flat front, and gliding over to the other side. Charlotte had leaned back a bit further, and she was squirming her legs.

I ran my hand down the front of her thigh, then down the front of the other. I curved my hand up and over her legs, moving up until I was at the very tops of her thighs. Her shorts were loose in the legs and I was touching the soft, pale flesh.

At once I skipped back up to her hips, never letting my hand leave her body. I dug my fingers in under her shirt and touched her bare stomach with my whole hand, moving back and forth just slightly. I ran back down to her hip and then over her shirt until my hand was just under her right breast. Under my hand I could feel the crisp lettering on her shirt that read Jackson Athletic Department.”

I let my hand linger a last moment before I ran my hand up to cup her breast. It was a perfect handful, firm and soft at the same time. Her nipple was stiff under my palm. I started drawing small circles with my fingertips and she let out her breath in a controlled gasp. After a minute of the circles I took my pointer finger and circled her nipple. She let out her breath again, only a little less controlled this time.

I ran my hand off and over onto her other breast, moving with small circles again. By the time I was finished rolling her other nipple around, Charlotte’s hips were moving on the couch.

I ran my hand across both breasts for a few long strokes, and then down across her ribcage. She was breathing harder by the time I reached her stomach, and I ran my hand across, pushing the tip of my finger slightly into the depression of her navel. Using my fingertips only, I brushed back and forth across her diminishing stomach, feeling the waistband of her underwear through the gym shorts. Lower and lower my fingers dropped, until at last I could feel the first rise of her pubic mound. With just my middle two fingers, I traced back and forth across her mound, moving slowly and savoring every touch.

At last my hand, which was palm down, would drop no farther, so I ran my fingers back up her mound and at the top, and I turned my hand palm up. I dropped my touch down using only fingertips and feeling the texture of her pubic hair through the shorts. I was trying to maintain the suspense, although my own desires were getting the better of me, and my insides were raging with the heat of the excitement.

At the bottom of her mound, I hesitated just a moment, then slid my hand underneath her. She gasped as I did so, and her hips twitched a bit. I was intoxicated by the heat and the supple skin of her most intimate part across my fingers, and my lightest pressure yielded great reactions. I cupped her in that fashion for a few moments, applying pressure and moving my hand back and forth in a rhythm which Charlotte picked up at once. Her hips bucked in cadence with my touch for a moment or two, at which I slid my hand out and rested it on my own leg, breaking contact with her for the first time. She looked up at once, concern crossing her face, but her pleasured glow returned when she saw me smiling.

I leaned forward and kissed her, which she returned with both hands on either sides of my face and plunging her tongue into my mouth. I pulled back my face so a few inches from hers.

“Does it feel good so far? I murmured. She nodded and said mmmm-hmm in a decisive, throaty purr. I smiled at her and looked her in the eyes. Would you get undressed for me? I asked, and my insides trembled as I did.

A shadow of something hesitation, maybe crossed her eyes, and then she smiled a mischievous little smile and kissed my lips. Okay, if you want. Her voice was shaking just a bit.

I moved back a bit so she could stand up from the couch, which she did. She hesitated there a second, and then crossed the room to the light switch. It’s okay, I said as she did. You don’t need to turn on the lights if you don’t want.”

She nodded and moved over to stand in the middle of the room, where I could see her. She grasped the bottom of her shirt, and paused. I could see the desire and the excitement in her eyes, and then she pulled her shirt over her head, tossing it onto the floor. She stood like that, bare-breasted and watching my face for a reaction. Her breasts were round and even, and stood out from her chest without sag. Her aureolas were soft pink, and her nipples were still stiff. She reached up and took one of her breasts in her hand and pulled a bit on the nipple. It was almost an unconscious gesture on her part, and she watched my reaction with a smile on her face.

She slid her shorts off without ceremony and kicked them to the side. In nothing but her underwear she was glorious, and the light was coming from the side and it cast a glow on every curve of her body. She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties and slid them back over the curve of her buttocks. She bent over and pushed them down past her thighs until they piled on the floor at her feet. She stood up, then, and my eyes went at once to the dark triangle of her pubic hair. She kicked the panties aside and held out her hands like a magician who had just performed a great trick. I didn’t know how I would be able to speak, but I managed to croak: You are breathtaking.”

Charlotte turned a pirouette, letting me appreciate the curves of her back and behind, and then came back to the sofa. I watched the muscles in her legs and stomach flex and curve as she walked, until she was beside me, and sitting down. She sat facing forward, as one might sit normally, then she swivelled around so her back was against the arm rest. The last thing she did was spread her legs open and hitch forward. She reached out for me to rejoin her.

I plunged forward, meeting her lips and her embrace. We kissed in wild abandon as I ran my hands over her bare skin, touching back and stomach, buttocks and thighs. My hands were shaking at the nearness of her unclothed body. I didn’t touch near her chest, yet, or between her legs, but my hands traced every other inch of skin they could find.

While still kissing I moved to her breasts. I squeezed first, and stroked second, rolling her nipples between my forefinger and thumb. Again I traced down her stomach, turning my hand as I did so. I ran my hand down her mound, running fingertips through her kinky pubic hair, and cupping her with the pressure of built up tension.

I pulled back from the kissing for just a second, meeting her eyes and smiling at her, which she returned. Then leaning back in for another kiss and I slid my hand between her legs. I held her in my whole hand for a moment, then I rubbed my hand back and forth, applying added pressure with my middle finger until it slipped between the lips of her labia. At the moment it did, she exhaled with a long moan of desire into my open mouth, and I began dragging my finger back and forth in her wetness.

At the top of her opening, my finger found the bump of her clitoris and I applied pressure there. Then I trailed back and forth, sometimes taking her lips between my fingers and gently rolling, then back to her clitoris. Her body was trembling against mine, and she was trying to kiss me, but was finding it difficult to concentrate.

My finger found the depression at the bottom of her slit and I pushed my finger up inside her. She moaned and bucked against my hand, and I thought she would climax, but didn’t. I slid my finger in and out a few times, then back to rolling the labia, then back to the clitoris. She had stopped kissing altogether and was leaned back, making throaty sounds and shaking.

I took my hand away again and her eyes flew open, almost angry. I just smiled and leaned forward to kiss her. Just trust me, I said with a low breath.

I kissed her face for a moment, and then down her neck to her collarbone, kissing and nibbling along that ridge. Here I wanted to take time and enjoy what I was doing, but her level of arousal and mine demanded a faster schedule. I did take a few moments at her breasts, kissing around each breast in a circle that led to the nipple, which I took in my mouth and rolled around with my lips. The first time I had her nipple in my mouth she tensed and groaned, and again I thought she would climax, but was still hungry for more.

My trip down her stomach was short but sweet. Her breath was coming in ragged gasps, and she was leaning up as best as she could, looking down at me. I kissed in the hollow of each of her hips, and then I kissed the insides of her thighs. She was bucking her hips at me.

At last I slid down the couch and pressed my lips to her pubic hair, and kissed there a few times. I pushed her legs wide open and leaned my face down to kiss across the top of her labia. I rubbed once or twice with my finger, and then used my thumb and forefinger to spread her. I pressed my tongue flat, licking up and down. I took her lips into my own and swirled them around, as I had done her nipples. Then I dragged my tongue up to find her clitoris, and applied pulsing pressure there. With a free hand I slid a finger into her, and used both tongue and finger in a quick rhythm.

It didn’t take long. After thirty seconds or so, Charlotte’s entire body tensed and she leaned back until all I could see was the curve of her stomach. In a few loud, gasping moans her entire body clenched and unclenched, over and over again. I kept going for most of the orgasm, but toward the end I pulled my face away. Soon she was a relaxed pile on the couch, legs thrown open, and my finger still gently gliding in and out of her.

I thought for a moment that she had passed out, and I moved to pick her up and carry her to bed. She threw her arms around me as I lifted her and found my lips with hers, kissing me deeply.

I set her on the bed in her room and tucked her under the covers. Thank you, she mumbled. Nobody ever did that to me before.”

“I was afraid you would come before I could, I said.

“I did come before that, she said with a satisfied smile. The big one was my third.”

She settled into the covers, and I sat watching her for a moment. Her eyes flew open, then half-closed again. I want to make you come, too.”

“That’s very nice, but it was your turn.”

She settled in to sleep, smiling at me. Your turn tomorrow, then.”

“I’m already excited for it.”

After she fell asleep I went back out into the living room to turn off the TV and pick up her clothes. I did it thinking that if Jess came home early I wouldn’t want her to see them and wonder. There was an issue there to resolve, and something big and significant to worry about, but I was in no frame of mind to consider it. I switched off all the lights and tossed Charlotte’s clothes on the floor of her room, pulling the door closed. After looking at her closed door a moment, I went to my own room and shut that door. Everything could wait until the morning.