Admission v.2

Morgan

My face was swollen, and my nose kept on draining down the back of my already sore throat. I called out of work that morning, and after making an appointment to see my doctor the next day, I knew I was going to be in for a long twenty four hours. My yearly sinus infection had arrived, and nothing would help except prescription antibiotics. I made a cup of tea, and watched a few morning court shows, but being alone like that, without any work to keep me busy and distracted, made me think about Eva.

After two months of refusing to speak to her, she finally accepted the fact that I’m one prize she’d never keep and stopped calling. Still, I missed her. I knew she wouldn’t have called out of work to stay home with me, she was an attorney after all, but it would have been nice to have someone there for me. Sure, I had friends, but it just wasn’t the same. If Eva was here, she would have come to my apartment at the first opportunity and sing and massage me until I felt better. I really missed her hands and her voice.

I couldn’t stop coughing, even with the peppermint tea, but I was too miserable to hop in my car and go get some herbal ThroatCoat, so I laid down in my bed. After sleeping for half an hour, I woke up choking, suffocating in my sleep from all the built up mucous in my throat. I spat out a hunk of foul-tasting green goop in my trash can, and made more tea before watching more judge and talk shows. Instead of getting some perverted satisfaction from watching petty legal and paternity disputes, I felt sorry for everyone involved. I couldn’t see how my best friend Katrina could just sit in court all day and record how people have done all kinds of horrible things to each other and not walk away some of the time, but I remembered that Katrina was unusual. She was more resilient than she looked.

I heard a loud knock on my door. I felt very dizzy getting up, so I took my time peeling off my covers, slowly crawled out of bed, and shuffled to my front door. I didn’t have the energy to change out of my comfortable yellow marshmallow duck cotton pajamas. “Who is it?” I called out weakly.

“It’s me.” replied a concerned Katrina, who sounded muffled because of the door between us. “You texted me earlier about being sick. Is it your yearly thing?”

I rubbed my head slowly. I couldn't remember doing that, but I probably had. “Yes. It’s my yearly present from allergy season.”

“Can I make you something?”

Lately, I hadn’t been hanging out with my friends as much as I used to. I just felt like a loser for ending a relationship with a good woman, even though it was for all the right reasons. I’d never find someone like Eva again. That was for sure. I didn’t want to care about anyone anymore. But right then, even though I wasn’t going to talk to Katrina about how I felt, I really wanted to see her. I opened the door, and she was standing there with a large paper bag full of groceries, still in her work clothes. She was wearing a bright pink skirt suit that made me cover my eyes from it's intensity. I wrinkled my nose at the thought of having one of her large home-cooked meals. Katrina was an excellent cook, but I was afraid I'd throw up a meal that couldn't fit on a teacup saucer. “I really don’t feel like eating anything.”

“It won’t be anything heavy…” said Katrina, as she picked up the groceries and put them on my granite countertop. “I’ll just be making you some soup.”

“What…kind…?” I asked, trying to stave off another coughing fit. Of course, I was unsuccessful, and I ended up spitting in the kitchen garbage can. Katrina recoiled a bit. “Sorry. I know I’m kinda gross right now.” I suddenly felt self-conscious about her being there. I didn’t like anyone seeing me when I wasn’t on point.

Flower-like magenta circles bloomed in her cheeks. I guess she thought she did something wrong. “That’s okay, More. I’m making you some butternut squash soup.”

“Why butternut squash? Why not something normal like chicken noodle?” I knew whatever Katrina cooked for me would be good, her cooking skills were genetic after all, but I was curious.

“Butternut squash has more vitamins to help you fight off this infection. Maybe you’ll even be able to go back to work sooner.”

“I hope so. I’m miserable when I'm not working.” Working as a forensic accountant for a tax law firm was the only thing that kept my mind off Eva. At work I forgot I didn't have anyone to come home to, or have dinner with.

“Go and lay back down. I can figure things out in your kitchen. I’ll get you when the soup’s ready, okay?” I nodded my head before hacking and coughing again. Katrina pulled out a blue box of tissues from the grocery bag. “Here. I figured you’d need these too.” She kicked off her bright pink pumps and pushed them over to my shoe rack with her foot. It was an annoying habit, her not using my shoe rack, but I let it slide.

I gave her my best smile under the circumstances. “Thank you, Trina. You thought of everything. I really appreciate it.”

Katrina beamed at me. “No problem, sweetie.”

I sat back down on my bed, and felt better for some reason. Katrina always had that effect on me. When I went through all my hard times at the end of college, she was there for me. When I broke up with Eva, she was there for me. If she hadn't been straight, she’d be the perfect girlfriend. The thought of that made me laugh, until I felt my sore throat burn and I started hacking instead. The pile of tissues in my bedroom waste basket was slowly piling up.

“What’s so funny?” called Katrina from the kitchen. From my bed, I could see her putting the halved butternut squash on a cookie sheet into my oven, her round backside squeezing against her short business skirt.

“Nothing.” I lied, feeling self-conscious for checking her out. I shouldn’t have been doing that. She was just trying to being the good friend she always was. There was no sense in making that into something it wasn't. I found my head spinning a little. Is that what I wanted? Did I want Katrina to be more than my best friend? No. That was selfish. That was a selfish thing to want. But hadn’t I been selfish about the way I felt about her? I was never worried about other guys before Kendall, but after he proposed, I didn’t want her to be with him. The more I thought about it, the more I realized my feelings about the situation had been more to do with jealousy then concern about her future. I felt like kicking myself. I had had no right to be jealous. Wasn’t I dating Eva at the time? Wouldn’t I still have been with Eva if she hadn’t been hell-bent on moving to Chicago? Coughing fits seasoned my thoughts until Katrina poked her head in to check on me. I felt even guiltier when she looked at me with widened big brown eyes, and a droopy mouth.

“Do you need me to make you some Throat Coat tea? I bought a box for you.” She offered me.

I shook my head, trying not to look her in the eye. “No.” I didn’t deserve any tea from her. I didn’t deserve the soup, or her being nice to me. Or her looking at me like she wanted to hug me and take all my pain away.

Katrina gave me a little smile. “Why are you always so stubborn? I’m over here to help you. It’s not a big thing. The tea can be in the microwave while I’m finishing up the soup.”

I sighed and look down at my bedspread, wrinkled and bunched up after a night of tossing and turning. I felt even more embarrassed that my bed was a mess. “Alright.” Katrina walked over and sat on my bed, ignoring the ever-growing waste basket filled with my used tissues. She leaned over and touched my forehead with the back of her hand. “What are you doing?”

She laughed. “Checking your temperature. What does it look like I’m doing?” She held her hand there for a few seconds before pulling it away. “When are you going to see the doctor? You really don’t look well.”

“Gee, thanks.” I said, turning away. My words sounded a lot more bitter than they should. “I’m seeing him tomorrow. He couldn’t fit me in today.”

"That’s good. I’ll have some tea out to you in a few minutes.” She got up and went back to the kitchen. I cried silently into my pillows, hoping she wouldn’t notice.



Katrina

I quickly filled a coffee mug with water and stuck it in the microwave, and tried not to worry about Morgan. Of course, her fancy gold rimmed tea sets were useless in an emergency like that. I wasn’t going to waste time heating up a kettle when More was suffering. I never saw her that bad before. If I wasn’t so well informed about how triage works at an emergency room, I would suggest she go there immediately.

After fifteen minutes, the squash was done, so I took it out with Morgan’s silicone potholders. I didn’t know why Morgan bought them to begin with. They’re small and hard to grip when there’s something genuinely heavy to take out of the oven, but then I remembered Morgan never cooked roasts or whole birds in her oven. She had some fancy countertop rotisserie oven for that. I told myself not to laugh. I cooked all of my meals, but she cooked at home three times a week, and used better kitchen equipment than I did. Well, at least I could take advantage of her Robot-Coupe food processor and make sure the soup is perfectly smooth.

I loved cooking. Once I got started, it was almost like meditating. I could forget about the court cases I recorded. I could forget about breaking Kendall’s heart. And I could usually forget about how much I cared about Morgan, but since I was in her kitchen, cooking didn’t help that part much. I scooped out the pale orange butternut squash from it's skin and added it to the food processor, just when the microwave dinged. I opened the brand new black and chrome door, and took out the coffee mug. After dipping in the little tea bag of Throat Coat, I placed a saucer on top of the mug so the tea could steep. By the time I was done mixing the squash with the vegetable broth, onion, garlic, and herbs, the tea was ready.

After taking out the tea bag, and balancing the mug on a saucer, I carefully brought the tea to Morgan. She never liked sugar or honey in her tea for some reason, so I didn’t bother to ask if she wanted any. Morgan looked terrible. Her eyes were bloodshot, her naturally round cheeks were puffy, her lips were cracked, and there were her loud, liquid-filled hacks that made me want to hug her and hold her close until she stopped. Her usually penny-copper bronze skin had an ashy sheen I didn’t like. She was dehydrated, and I had to make sure she drank the tea if she was going to feel any better.

I handed her the tea with a smile, and she looked at me sadly before taking the tea from me. Her natural grace always stunned me. Even though she was sick in bed, trembling from coughs and pain, she still managed to drink her tea and set aside the tea set without spilling a drop. The two years of charm school I endured never rid me of my clumsiness. If it was anyone else, I’d be jealous, but her poise was one of the many things I loved about Morgan. I realized I was staring when Morgan stared back at me. She looked sad, miserable, and alone. And she looked like she didn’t even know me. Like I was a stranger that was going to hurt her.

I gave her a hug, and silently prayed that she’d get better soon. I knew how Morgan felt about God, but I couldn’t help it. If anyone could help her get well, it had to be Him. I knew God might not help, since I’m the way I am, but I had to try. I let Morgan go once she started coughing again. Then I felt silly. She was only sick from a sinus infection. Of course she'd get better. “I better go finish the soup.” I told her. What I really wanted to do is kiss her on the cheek, but I resisted the urge as I got up and went back to the kitchen.

I didn’t realize it would be that hard slipping back into best friend mode, but I should have known. After all, the only reason I started going out with Kendall to begin with was because Morgan was hung up on Eva for so long, and I didn’t want to deal with that. Just seeing Morgan in the restaurant was enough for me to realize I could never be happy faking being straight. I knew then that I was jealous of Eva. It was just dumb, blind luck that Morgan saw what a control freak Eva was before she moved to Chicago and I lost her for good.

Lose Morgan? I poured the soup mixture into the soup pot before I let my feelings get away from me. What a ridiculous thought. I never had her, and that would never change. There was no chance that she’d ever fall for someone who’s been with so many men. Other stupid women ruined any chance that Morgan will love me. Too many women who eventually left her holding the bag. All I was good for was soothing her and cooking for her. I couldn’t give her what she wanted. But I would do anything to give her what she needed.

The soup bubbled up right away, and I had half a mind to borrow Morgan’s whole set of copper clad pots. Morgan always got the best, and always took advantage of a sale. I was envious of that. I bought whatever I wanted, but no matter how hard I tried, I always ended up paying full price for everything. Even though my parents were comfortably wealthy, I still couldn’t figure out how to put together a color scheme. Thankfully, I paid Don aka Donohue, my friend from college, for her interior decorating expertise every time I felt the need to change things around in my apartment.

After ladling up the soup into two French ceramic bowls, I put them both on a fancy silver tray, and brought them to Morgan’s room. She wasn’t coughing as much as before, thank God. “Food’s ready.” I murmured. The thought that she’d push away my food and turn her head in disgust had always been an irrational fear of mine, but as usual, she took a little taste and smiled. That’s the real reason I cooked for her in the past. One taste of whatever it was I brought her, and her beautiful face would open up and reveal her dimples.

As usual, the aftereffect of seeing such a stunning, dimple decorated smile was that I got speechless for several seconds. And of course, my face got red. Morgan ignored my bashfulness and patted my hand. “Trina. Thank you.”

“It’s the least I can do.” I whispered, trying to get my heart to stop beating so fast. We ate our soup in silence, and I was happy when her coughs grew few and far between. After she finished, she propped herself up on some of her fancy silk pillows. Even with her unbrushed short hair, runny nose and eyes, she looked like a queen. She looked away from me, focusing her attention elsewhere, but she couldn’t stop smiling. Morgan never wanted to burden anyone with her pain, physical or otherwise but I’m glad she let me have my way and accepted my help.

Her eyes looked sad again when she turned to me and said, “You better get out of here. It’s already eight o’clock, and the court needs you at one hundred percent. You wouldn‘t want to put the prosecutor’s words in the judge‘s mouth.” That was just like Morgan. She took help when she needed it, but never took advantage. Even though she was sick, she reminded me to get home and take care of myself. I wanted to stay, but Morgan was looking better by the minute, and something in her face was telling me, ‘Please go, Trina.’ I knew I’d overstayed my welcome.

I gave her another hug, and she did something unusual. She squeezed me back, like she didn’t mind the hug. That just made me hold on to her for as long as I could. “Call me if you need anything, More.”

Finally she pulled away. “Trina. If you do anything else for me, you’ll be sainted. Now go home.”

Sheepish and blushing, I backed out of her bedroom, grabbed my purse and shoes and left. But not before I made a silent selfish wish that things between us would change.







Four months later...


Morgan



“I’m not coming over.” I said firmly into my cell phone. It was a Friday night, and Katrina was bugging me again. Usually, it was really sweet. Now, it was torture.

“Oh come on, girl! I’ve already rented ‘Thelma and Louise’ . I know you’ve always wanted to see that movie.” begged Katrina. “I’ll cheer you up. I promise.”

“Trina, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. I won’t make very good company.” Truthfully, I was avoiding her lately on purpose. I thought that if I kept my distance from her, my feelings for her would at least be ignorable.

“Morgan, what’s wrong with you? I haven’t seen you in a few days. Did you have more feelings for Tracy than you let on?”

“No. Tracy and me were a temporary item. We didn’t love each other.” I went out on a date with Tracy because I met her at a gay bar and she really pursued me. Tracy had a sweet personality, was attractive, goal oriented, and everything I would have been looking for before now. When Tracy was flirting at me, playing with her hair and laughing at every little thing I said over wine and tapas, all I did was wish I was over at Katrina's house eating one of her delicious meals. When I looked into Tracy's golden hazel eyes, I wished I was looking into Katrina's dark brown ones. When Tracy smiled at me, with a gorgeous shade of blood-red lipstick, I wished Katrina was smiling at me, even if she was just wearing lip gloss to highlight her full, plump lips. That was the worst part, knowing my feelings were so strong, I couldn't even romantically talk to another woman as a distraction. I told Tracy after our meal that she just wasn't for me, and she did not take it well. She started crying and said that it was so hard meeting women because they were always pining after their exes, or best friends. I felt incredibly guilty and was glad I hadn't taken things any further, after all, I had been in the same situation as Tracy only a year and a half before.

“So what’s wrong? Come on, More. Spit it out already!”

I opened my mouth to tell her the truth, but decided against it. I would only be setting myself up for heartbreak. Katrina, although she had her little kinks, was heterosexual. It would be best for our friendship if I didn’t say anything to make her feel uncomfortable, or, at worst, make her hate me. Although Katrina had always known I was a lesbian, I didn’t know how she would react if she knew I had those feelings for her. Losing her as a friend was something I didn’t want to think about. “It’s nothing. Really. Nothing important.” I swallowed the lump in my throat.

“It’s obviously something if you’ve been avoiding me.” she replied. “You know if you don’t come over, I’ll just have to come over there.”

“No! That’s okay. I’ll be right over.” I hung up the phone quickly. Katrina would make good on her threat to come over. She had done it before and harassed me until I gave in. Two weeks earlier, we had been at the movie theater, watching a horror flick. On a whim, I had leaned in close to kiss her on the cheek, but hesitated. Luckily, it had been dark, and I didn’t think she noticed. Still, it was too close a call for me, someone who’s usually calm and reserved. I told myself it was better if I went to Movie Night, since it included Donohue, and Vicki as well as me and Katrina. Hopefully then, I could control myself.

When I got to Katrina’s house, I noticed that Don and Vicky’s cars were missing. I frowned. I had shown up late just so I wouldn’t be alone with Katrina. I went up to her apartment door and knocked on the door, nervously scratching the back of my neck. Katrina took her time coming to the door, and when she opened it, my breath caught in my throat. Katrina was, as usual, gorgeous. Her spiraled and zig zag black curls grew past her shoulders, glistened with water. Her face was heart-shaped, with big brown eyes, a button nose, and lips that would give Angelina Jolie a run for her money. I was finding it difficult to restrain myself from touching her beige-tan skin. She was wrapped in a plushy bright-white towel that barely covered her thighs, and seemed to blow up her curves to exagerated proportions. I thought about closing the door behind me, grabbing her towel and pulling her to me to-

“Morgan? You okay?” She asked, biting her lip in concern. I noticed that several drops of moisture were flowing from her hair to collect in her cleavage, which was barely contained by her towel.

I kept my eyes on her face so I wouldn’t look at her body, swallowing until I could form a coherant sentence. “You’re wearing a towel.”

“Sorry.” She said, grinning. I bit my lip and looked away. Her smile was her best feature, lighting up her whole face. “I wanted to freshen up before you came over. I had one hell of a workout today.”

I gulped. The last thing I needed to picture was her working out or showering. “Where’s Vicki and Donohue?”

“I’m sure they’ll be here in a few minutes. Have a drink while I get dressed.” She took her time walking to her bedroom, and I took the opportunity to guiltily admire her behind. She had a round ass if ever there was one. In her fridge, all she had was Heineken and Baileys Irish Cream. I reached for the bottle of Bailey's, and then I changed my mind and left it in there. The last thing I needed to do was get fucked up and tell the truth. I closed the fridge and went into the living room to slouch on her comfortable leather couch miserably. I used her remote to turn on the bigscreen tv in her living room, but it wouldn’t turn on, no matter how many times I switched the batteries around.

“Trina? What’s up with your tv?” I called out to her.

“It’s not working. We’ll have to watch the one in my room.” She told me as she was walking out of her bedroom with a ‘Wanted’ baby tee over a pair of pajama shorts, her long hair put up in a messy ponytail. I gulped, trying to keep my eyes on her face, and not on the outline of her plump crotch or her bra-less chest. Katrina giggled at me. “What’s wrong with you? You’re acting so weird!”

“Where are Donohue and Vicki? We really shouldn’t start without them.” I said nervously, scratching my arm. The tight fitting pajamas she was wearing was not helping my attraction. I wanted to leave, but I couldn't think of a good excuse.

“Okay. Are you sure you don’t want anything to drink? I’ve got Bailey’s in the fridge.”

I swallowed hard, looking in the direction of her fridge. “I know. I looked already. I don’t want to drink tonight.”

“Well, it is a Friday night. It’s not like you have work in the-”

“Katrina. I don’t want to drink.” I stubbornly folded my arms and tightened my jaw.

Katrina tapped her cheek with her finger and looked thoughtful. “I’ve got some bottled water in my pantry. Do you want some?”

I nodded mechanically, looking away from her. “Uh, yeah.”

“I’ll get some ice for it, okay?” She took her time walking over to her ice maker, her hips swaying gently. My eyes immediately locked onto the big 'Juicy' letters that were displayed across the back of her short shorts. Juicy seemed to be an advertisement for something I could never have.

“I’ll get it!” I announced, beating her to her own pantry, and getting my own ice in a glass to keep myself from watching her ass. Katrina raised an eyebrow at me.

“More...what's with you lately?” She said, thrusting her chest out at me. My eyes went to the ceiling and I started guzzling down my water so I didn’t have to answer. When I put my glass down, Katrina grabbed my hand and dragged me to her room, dumping me on her bed. She sat down next to me, crossing one leg over the other, kicking her foot in annoyance. “Alright. ‘Fess up. What the hell is going on with you?” I couldn’t find a way to answer her question. All I could look at was her mouth, rose-pink with her lip gloss, slightly drooping with confusion. I turned away, but she grabbed my chin and made me look at her. Her soft fingertips made me tingle, so I grabbed her hand and moved it. “You know you can tell me anything. What’s going on?” I took her hand, interlocking our fingers together. I couldn’t look at her. “Morgan?”

I cut off her sentence with my eyes. I couldn't avoid the truth anymore. I didn't want to. Even it meant losing her. “I love you.”

Katrina’s eyes opened wide at that, fluttering like confused butterflies. “Really?”

“Yes.” I whispered. She blushed then, and looked at our hands. Then she looked at me again, with the biggest smile I had ever seen her have. I took that as an invitation to kiss her. Her lips parted slightly, letting me trail my tongue along the cusp of her lower lip. Katrina uncrossed her legs and drew me closer to her. I could feel her breasts pressed against mine, and I felt her arms slowly wrap around my waist. I broke away, but she leaned towards me, her mouth seeking mine again. I tasted her again, sucking her upper lip against my teeth, happily eating her up.

She moved her hands up my back, looking at me, studying me as if she had never seen me before. She ran her finger across my cheek, caressing my dimples with her thumbs before drawing me closer to her lips. We kissed again, endlessly it seemed. I felt her hands slip into my pants, sliding between my skin and panties smoother than cocoa butter. She rubbed the top of my pussy, tentatively until I moved against her fingers, undulating like some boneless, creeping thing. Trina moved from the outskirts to my inner core, gently tracing circles and figure eights over my clit until I couldn’t take it any more. “Do it, damn it…” I moaned against her mouth. She complied, thrusting inside of me until I gave in and came, weak for a moment, blissful for longer than that.

I held onto her, half-delirious, half-conscious, and wanting more than I could stand. She pushed me back so I could see her lick her fingers, holding my gaze with her dark, half-closed eyes. She sighed deeply before kissing me again. I moved my thumb expertly over her shorts, and hooked them down, tugging at them until Trina got the message and took them off. I rewarded her by getting out of my slacks, quickly curling my legs out from under me, and pulling them off like a matador. She bent over me faster than lightning, pinning her thighs against mine, making sure our pussies were matched up.

The contrast was startling. My pussy was cinnamon brown, my trimmed black hairs glistening from all the previous activity. Hers was barely beige with tiny shaved hearts, the result of being covered up so early that summer. But when the two of us made contact, it was like electric bliss. I held onto to her tightly, not wanting her to stop grinding against me. Goddamn it if she wasn’t a vibrator turned flesh. I couldn’t understand how she could move so fluidly, but there she was, above me like a beautiful fallen angel, giving me all she had. When she was done, exhausted, I couldn’t help but lift her shirt up over her head, seeking out her breasts that had always been just out of my reach just an hour before. And there they were, as hard and chocolate tipped as Hershey’s Kisses. I curled one nipple in my tongue like snake, taking her in as delicately as spun sugar. I felt her arms close around my shoulders, encouraging me to suck harder, harder. I took off my own sweater somehow, wrestling with the buttons, and desperate to feel her skin against mine completely.

“Wait.” I panted. Katrina blinked, startled by my sudden halt to the action. I curved a hand underneath her breast, letting her know I wasn’t stopping anything. “I’ve got something for you.” I whispered into her neck. I shifted her off of me, and reached for my purse, digging through my lipgloss, eyeliner and mascara to close my hands around a very special plastic bag. I opened the bag and pulled out my favorite dildo, complete with harness.

Trina just bit her lip and looked skyward in anticipation. I had told her about my strap-on, but hadn’t gone into much detail, other than to say everyone I had ever used it on really liked it. I put it on, and then gripped her hip testingly, tracing her opening with the head of my dildo. She smirked at me, and brushed her sodden hair away from her forehead, mocking my wordless need to ask her permission. I teasingly bent down and flicked her clit with my thumb, making her eyes widen in surprise. Then it was my turn to smirk, holding her eyes as I entered her.

“Morgan…Jesus…” She moaned, squeezing her eyes shut. I bent closer to her, nipping her lip as I rode her. She opened her eyes momentarily, only to gasp and close them again. It didn’t take her long to come. I had her legs splayed as far as they would go, and was going as deep as I dared. After that, I collapsed into her, not having anything left to give her. Trina held onto me, pressing her head against mine. Her eyes were dreamy, as if she was seeing right inside of me. Once she calmed down, she brushed a few drops of stale sweat away from my eyelids and kissed me again. “You never disappoint, do you?” she asked, rubbing my cheeks again.

I shook my head at her, and dropped my head to her breasts to kiss them again. “Thank you for not freaking out.”

She laughed at that, full bodied laughter that made her shake all over. “Thank you for not making me wait any longer.”

I raised my eyebrow. “How long have you been waiting?”

She shrugged. “Too long.” She drew me closer to her, and I couldn’t help but feel satisfied, at peace for once. She smiled as she traced her finger over my collarbone. “Next time we go to the movies, you should go for it if you want to kiss me.”

I giggled against her chest. “Oh my God! You knew?”

“Well, when someone leans in close to you and starts breathing in your ear, they’re either going to kiss you, or tell you a secret. Though in your case, you were trying to do both.” She said with a wink. I propped myself up on one of my elbows. She parted her lips, as if she wanted to tell me something, but she just bit her lip and stayed quiet. I started to worry then. I couldn’t assume Katrina wanted to be with me simply because of a fuck or two. I had made that mistake before. Maybe she was with me out of sympathy. Suddenly I felt embarrassed for blurting out that I loved her. No doubt, she’d want to go back to the way things were before in the morning, or else just add sex to our friendship. “Morgan…" I'd never heard her say my name that softly before. "You aren’t leaving me, are you?”

I blinked at that, in surprise. “Not if you don’t want me to.”

“Good.” She drew me into a hug, and she didn't let go, resting her head on my shoulder. I felt my eyelids droop, and it wasn’t long before I found myself drifting off to sleep against her shoulder. “Morgan? Are you asleep?”

My eyes fluttered awake. “Not yet.” She ran her finger over my cheek, and kissed me gently.

“I don’t want to go to sleep yet. There is one more thing I want to do.”

“Oh really?” I smirked. “And what would that be?”

She cupped her hands over my ear to whisper, “Well, I’ve wondered what you taste like dipped in honey.”

I licked my lips at that. Katrina was just full of surprises. “Damn.”

“Is that a good damn or a bad damn?” she asked nervously.

“That’s a good damn. Try it.”

“You are going to love this. I promise!” Katrina got up and went into her kitchen, coming back with a jar of honey, complete with a honeycomb inside. She joined me on her bed again, and I sat up.

“How exactly is this going to work?”

“Just lean back, and close your eyes.” She told me.

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

I took a deep breath and lay down slowly with a grin. “Alright.” She spread my legs wide for feasting, rubbing her fingers over the cleft of pussy. She looked at me as I rocked back and forth over her hand. Katrina smiled at my body movements, slowly leaning down to give my pussy a very deliberate lick, from my opening all the way up around my clit. "Yes..." I whimpered. With a wide grin, Katrina continued. "Trina, yes...please..." I moaned. She sucked gently on my clit, driving me to close my legs around her head.

"No, sweetie." said Katrina, firmly pulling my legs apart and digging her hands into my thighs to keep them in place. She massaged the sensitive skin joining my pussy to my hips before reaching for the jar of honey. She pulled out the comb, and drizzled it over me. The honey felt hot and thick, making me even wetter. Katrina picked up the pace then, sucking on my clit like her favorite candy. My words were incomprehensible after that, rising and crashing out of me and waves until I reached my peak and fell from it. I lay on my back weakly, trying to catch my breath, and Katrina snaked her way on top of me. I held her body firmly around her waist with my legs stickily. She gently smoothed her hands over my face. "Are you alright, sweetheart?"

I chuckled at that. "This is too ironic! Aren't you the straight one here?"

Katrina sighed. "I haven't been with another woman in a long time."

"God, Trina! Why didn't you ever tell me?" Katrina wrapped her arms around my neck, and didn't answer. I sighed and rubbed her back. I felt foolish for not realizing it sooner, and naive for not taking Donohue and Vicky's teasing seriously.

"You smell so good right now." She whispered against my neck. "And you taste even better." I started wondering if Katrina saw me as just a hookup. Maybe she'd sleep with me again. Maybe she wouldn't. I thought about how much I had given her in an hour, which was all of me, and I couldn't stand it. I thought about Eva, Maryse, Alice, all the other women I had been with, and how no matter how much I tried, I never seemed to hold on to anyone. No one ever stayed. I started to move, shifting from underneath her body. "Morgan? What's wrong?" I sat up and went for my clothes. Black, tar-like words boiled in my throat, but I couldn't speak. Katrina stopped me, covering my hands with hers. "I thought you weren't leaving me tonight." Her eyes were distressed, wide open and starting to water.

I shook my head, shaking with fear, with uncertainty. "What happens now? What happens if I stay?" Rising panic tightened my chest, making my voice cracked and small. I didn't want to hear her answer, I just wanted to go home and pretend like nothing had ever happened. That way, she wouldn't hurt me. I got up to bolt, but Katrina held onto me.

"Wait! Please. Just stay with me." She held me tight, and I could feel her tears fall onto my shoulder. Her tears came as a shock. I stood there, not knowing whether to hug her, or to leave. She gave me a soft, wet kiss on my neck, saying, "Please. Don't go." I didn't say anything to her, I just lay back down on the bed. Katrina eagerly wrapped her arms around me from behind. "Thank you, More." She whispered. She snuggled against me, and her breathing steadied until I was sure she was asleep. But I stayed awake for sometime, wondering if I had made the biggest mistake of my life.