It was a very deep itch, and would require very deep scratching.It was a very deep itch, and would require very deep scratching. Of course, she could scratch it herself, as she had done on several occasions before, but her restlessness was reenforced by the sound of gentle snores from the room next to hers. It would be oh so much better to have somebody scratch it for her. Allen had always been a good friend of hers, but she had preferred to keep it at a friendship level. When mutual financial circumstances had made sharing an apartment seem like a very good idea, she had proclaimed to the rafters that the ONLY thing they would share would be the bills. Allen had agreed good-naturedly, as usual. For six months and more, it worked out just fine. They respected each other's privacy, always one managing to find something to do elsewhere when the other brought home a date, etc. They grew closer, almost like brother and sister. Consummating this relationship almost seemed like breaking a taboo. But happy-go-lucky Allen had never noticed the sidelong looks Janet sometimes snuck at him. At the curves of his well-muscled chest and the bulge in the tight fitting jeans he sometimes wore. To put it nicely, he was built like a brick shithouse. And she was sure she had caught him looking at her the same way more than once, though he always pretended to be looking at something else instead. But no words were ever said about them, that barrier never breached. But now old shit-for-brains was out of her life for good. And she lay in the darkness empty, lonely, and horny as hell. She tossed and turned on top of the covers in the stifling heat, clad only in panties and a long T-shirt. Her mind tossed and turned even more violently, tormented by her aching need for a man and the maddening closeness of one. And the fear of disrupting a fine friendship. The need won. |