The Watchtower

A couple of hours, one ‘High Art’ and half a pizza later, Jace switches off the television and cuddles closer to me on the couch. I’m so eager to please, I’ve finished half a pack of mints and keep checking to see if there’s any food stuck in my teeth.

“You barely ate,” Jace observes.

“Not that hungry,” I say, her perfumed scent overwhelming me. Her hair smells lemony-fresh.

“Cori?” says Jace shyly.

“Yeah?” I answer.

“Are you going to start kissing me, like, ever?”

“Um, sure,” I say, “but can I just go to the bathroom?” Somebody slap me. Please. I mean, could’ve just grabbed her by the waist and started kissing her, but I just *have* to be unromantic. If it keeps going like this, she’s going to give me a kiss on the cheek and show me the guest bedroom.

“You just went, Cor,” she says, confused.

“No, I just wanted to make sure my breath’s okay,” I blather away. I did it again! “You know, I have halitosis.” Brilliant.

“Wow, you’re really good at this, Cori,” Jace grins. “But it’s okay...I’m finding it very attractive.”

I blush, but ironically, her directness makes me loosen up a little. “You find permanent brain damage attractive?” I jibe.

Jace laughs. “Cori,” she says slowly. “Shut up.” And leans in to kiss me softly. She takes my hands and makes me stand up so that we’re facing each other. She’s so petite, I could fit her in my pocket. She kisses me again, guiding my hands to her waist. Touching her is exhilarating. I look into her eyes, and I realize that she’s feeling exactly the same things I am.

We kiss more, and emboldened, I suck on her lower lip and bite it softly. Her hands on my back crumple the fabric of my shirt and she drops them to my hips. I’m the quiet type, so I let out a low gasp.

“Cori,” whispers Jace, pulling away from the kiss. “I’m in love with you.”

I’m astonished. “Are you sure?” I jabber away idiotically. “I mean, I-I get really excited about stupid things like-like a bag of potato chips and I’m a klutz and an atrociously bad public speaker and I’m not very smart and...”

She interrupts me with another long kiss, her lips hot and wet. “Come on, Cori,” she says, breathlessly. “I know you. I love you for who you are. Now the only thing is, how do *you* feel?”

Was that even a question? “Oh, Jace, I’m totally crazy about you,” I say. “I’ve loved you since you made me trip over my own feet in the cafeteria. I love you more than you know.”

“Prove it,” she challenges, with a gleam in her eyes.

From here on, I can do no wrong. I take her by the hand and lead her to her bedroom. She lights up a candle and turns off the lights. I put my arms around her and kiss her, then gaze at her as I start unbuttoning her blouse. Her eyes are lowered as she watches my fingers move down her and her breath quickens.

I start to push the shirt off her shoulders and stare in wonderment at her, pushing her shoulder-length hair out of the way. Her eyes are closed now. She’s wearing a strapless bra. I run my hands over her shoulders and let them rest over her chest at the base of her neck.

Gripping her waist firmly with my hands and kissing her tenderly, I direct her to the bed and lay her down on it. For a second I look into her eyes, as if trying to find something to reassure me that this is really happening. She runs her right hand down my back and slips it inside my pants for a few seconds, caressing my hips. Her left hand is on my thigh.

I can barely wait anymore. I sit her up, never taking my lips off hers, take off her blouse and try to unhook her bra. Which doesn’t appear to be working. “Sweetie,” Jace whispers, her left hand still stroking my thigh. “It clasps from the front.”

“Oh, sorry,” I say sheepishly. Smooth, Cori. Sheesh.

She lies back and pulls me down to kiss me. I unclasp the bra and push the left cup out of the way, cupping her breast with my right hand. Oh, wow. It’s so soft and yielding...except for the rock-hard nipple, of course. I kiss my way down from her lips to her chin to her neck, and finally to her breast. I suck and lick her nipple and listen to her moans of pleasure, her chest rising with each flick of my tongue.

“Jace,” I murmur. “I have to tell you something. I...I never thought I’d be here. I could never get close to you. And now...here you are. I hold you in my arms...and it’s like the world changes.”

She looks at me with those silent, demanding eyes and I kiss her mouth again, this time more fervently. I slide my right hand down from her breast, over her stomach, her hips, and finally, to the crotch of her jeans. Even though I’m only touching her through the denim, her head tips back and her body rises, making the both of us moan in each other’s mouth.

I finally pull off her bra in its entirety and throw it out of the way. I can’t believe how beautiful her breasts are, and I can see her turning red as my stare makes it clear what I’m thinking. My mouth trails kisses down her body, from her breasts to her smooth, soft belly.

I start unzipping her jeans and look up at her enraptured face, her hands now in my hair. “I have no idea what I’m doing,” I inform her.

“You’re doing great,” she whispers.

I help her pull off her jeans, and start taking off my own clothes. As I lie down on my side, feeling naked flesh on naked flesh for the first time, I struggle with the sensations raging throughout me. Jace kisses my neck and runs her tongue over my breasts till I’m sure something inside me is about to explode.

She is about to start touching my pussy, but I stop her hands. “Wait a second,” I say. “Your turn first.”

“Why?” she asks quizzically.

“Because I might lose my nerve after you.”

She smiles broadly. “Be my guest.”

“You’ll have to help me,” I say, “‘cos I don’t have a freakin’ clue.”

“Cori,” says Jace, lying on her back again, “don’t underrate yourself so much.”

Pulling down her panties, I can see her soaking wet with her juices. The hell with inhibitions. Valiantly, I drop my head between her legs and plant light kisses all over her pussy lips and her slit, before finally licking her clit, making her jump. Shawn is so right. This tastes like nectar and smells like spring. I cannot believe I had issues with doing this.

Judging by the way Jace’s hips are almost levitating, I’m guessing I’m doing okay. “Cori,” she whispers, her voice pained.

I slide up and kiss her mouth. She parts her legs involuntarily so that I’m exactly between them. I’m incredibly wet and the feel of her clit on mine is making my body weak with pleasure. Kisses on my neck. A flutter against my throat.

“Babe, just rub yourself against me,” she pants. I start a slow, rhythmic thrusting motion, gradually increasing my speed, the friction against my clit making me gasp louder and louder. Her hands are on my hips, guiding me.

I come, she doesn’t. I think it’s now time to panic. “Okay, sorry, sorry,” I mumble, getting off her. “That went all wrong.”

Jace is quick to pull me back down, smiling. “You’re so cute,” she says warmly. “Don’t be silly. It’s not over yet.”

I kiss her mouth and drop my hand to her pussy, stroking and flicking her clit till it becomes erect. Her juices cover my hand. I keep fondling her with my fingers till she starts gritting her teeth and I wonder if I’m hurting her.

“Am...am I doing it wrong?” I ask self-consciously.

“Oh, for Pete’s sake, Cori!” she hisses. “Don’t stop, please, God, don’t stop!” Oops.

I insert a finger inside her, then a second, a third, and finally a fourth. They slide in much easier than I had thought. I stare in awe as Jace’s entire body bucks up and down, low whimpers escaping her mouth, her head leaning backward. I stroke her hair as I thrust back and forth inside her, making her orgasm powerfully.

How do I know it was powerful? Well, if the scream was any indication...

“I knew it, Cori,” says Jace, at last, when her body has calmed down and I’m holding her with my eyes fixed on her face. “I knew I just had to draw you out so you could be the animal that we both know you are.”

“I love you,” I say sincerely, kissing her nose. “In spite of your sex faces, which remind me of Jim Carrey.”

Jace pinches me playfully, straddling me at the waist. “I love you, too. Now, please excuse me while I raise the bar of excellence.”

**********

PAT
---

Jesse and I have barely been speaking. Guilt, misery, and remorse – I’m feeling all of that and more. What a price to pay for a stupid mistake that I thought was long-gone. I cannot believe this has happened right on the eve of my departure. I leave in three weeks, and now it’s *my* turn to be scared.

I miss our nights together...her need to let me take control, and my need to give her everything she craves. And our trust...does it even exist anymore? I wonder bitterly.

I am sorting out my clothes as Jesse walks into the bedroom. “You’re back from work,” I stutter.

“Yes,” she says curtly. Her eyes are cold and suspecting, and I am unprepared for them.

“Jesse,” I say, trying to start a civilized conversation. “Look. Can’t we talk this out?”

“Fine, let’s talk,” she says crossly. “What would you like to talk about first? The fact that you withheld something so important from me or the fact that you nearly slept with my best friend that night?”

“But I didn’t sleep with her, Jess!” I say, exasperated. “I’m human, aren’t I? Aren’t I allowed to occasionally have feelings for someone I slept with in the past? I would never act on it, you know that.”

“You know what, I’m not so sure anymore,” she says icily, “given that you lied to me for two years. So much for my wanting to believe you all the time.”

“I didn’t lie! Look, Shawn said...”

“Fuck Shawn,” I say. “*You* were going out with me, *you* should’ve told me.”

“You’re right, Jess, of course you’re right,” I admit. “But gosh, it wasn’t entirely about that. I was still a little hurt...and trying to get over it. I didn’t want to tell anyone...I just wanted to pretend it never happened. By the time I was over it, I thought it was too late to say anything.”

“Pat, I don’t give a damn about your history. But if you’ve slept with my *best* friend, I would like to know.”

“Why?” I ask. “Why is *that* so important?”

“Because it is!” she says, as if there’s no need for further explanation.

“Jess, we can’t go on like this,” I say, grabbing her by the waist. “Listen to me, I love you. You don’t give up on something like this...” I trail off, overwhelmed with the urge to kiss her.

“No, Pat!” she breaks away from me. “Every time we hit a problem, you solve it by making love to me...and I fall for it every single time! Well, it’s not enough anymore.”

She storms out of the apartment, wiping away her tears. Seeing Jesse – usually so stoic and strong – cry, and knowing that *I* caused it, makes me feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. I start clearing the mess in room, and see a book peeking out from under her clothes. It’s ‘Fear of Freedom’ by Eric Fromme, a book I’ve been dying to get hold of, but that’s been out of print lately. I open up the cover and read Jesse’s handwriting on the first page. “To Pat,” it read. “The only girl I could ever draw strength from. All my love, Jess.”

I crumple to the floor and start crying in frustration.