0 comments/ 51246 views/ 15 favorites Masha Ch. 1 By: alphaslut This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual people or events is unintentional. If you are underage, or do not want to read about explicit sex between women, please leave. Constructive comments are encouraged, and all reasonable emails will receive replies. Thanks. ********** To say it was all about her would be overstating just a bit. My life, that is. Even now. Masha and I met in college my sophomore year. We were both acting students and had been cast as sisters in a play about a family trying to rebuild in the U.S. after the Holocaust. Though the drama department was fairly small, I had never met Masha until the audition. She'd been abroad my entire freshman year, fall semester in London and spring in Moscow. Josh, the graduate student director, had been impressed with her and asked her to stay through the evening. She was in the room when my time slot came up, and since Josh liked my audition, he asked us to read a scene together. What impressed me initially was not (though it should have been) her astonishing grasp of dialect. In fact, until she introduced herself after our reading of the scene, I thought she was actually Polish. What struck me was her voice itself, without the Polish accent. Had I not already known that my sexuality at 19 was open to anyone, hearing her voice would have helped me out. I was instantly turned on when she told me her name. This surge of eroticism, the surprise of her not being Polish and the knowledge that she was now speaking to me after we had finished a fairly intimate scene together stupefied me. I stood there, not shaking her hand, until finally she smiled and said, "Kind of intense, yeah?" I nodded. "It's a rough scene for a cold read," she continued. "You did well, though." She touched my arm and asked if this was my first audition. Freshmen were not permitted to audition, so it was. She said that she would enjoy working with me if I got the part. She moved and spoke with a kind of sleepy, casual confidence. I looked at her for a moment before thanking Josh and his stage manager and leaving. She watched me look, grinning as my eyes slid down her face, across her shoulders and along the lines of her body. When I left, I almost ran home to call all my friends and ask about her. Even though she'd been abroad, I had heard her name before. She was almost legendarily good, and her performance in The Seagull her sophomore year still had most of our professors salivating. Anytime Chekov came up in class, we were guaranteed a free period during which the instructor would ramble on about Masha. Now I kicked myself for not listening better. My rampage of phone calls produced. The potential for being cast alongside her allowed me to ask a lot of questions without seeming like a stalker. I quickly found out she was a senior, was suited to classical roles, and was, like most of us in the drama department, sexually ambiguous. It also became clear that everyone, not just me, thought she was hot. That week I had several more auditions. All of the auditions took place at the beginning of the semester, since the directors wanted to get into rehearsals right away. I was offered the part in Josh's production and one other. I could not take them both because the rehearsal schedules overlapped, but since the part in Josh's play was the lead and the other was a much smaller role it was not a difficult decision. It is easy to think that Masha had nothing to do with it, but I know that she could have, if that's what it had taken. I ran into her shortly after being offered the part, in the hallway outside my scene study class. She had seen my signature accepting the role on the cast list, which was posted on one of the hallway bulletin boards. She congratulated me and started to hug me, then stopped. "What?" I said. "I just realized I don't know you at all," she said. "Well, this is the drama department," I pointed out, laughing. "Virtual strangers hug me every day." She looked at me, smiled slowly, and said, "But I don't want to be a stranger, Kelsey. Not to you." I tripped, though I was standing still, mumbled something about us surely becoming friends during rehearsals and walked away. The next time I saw her she did hug me. I was at the bus stop outside the drama building late on a Friday night. I had just finished rehearsing a scene for one of my classes. At that hour the campus buses only came every 30 minutes. My scene partner was staying in the building to study, and no one else was around. It was raining and cold. There was a shelter at the bus stop, but I had gotten wet running to it and was shivering. Across the street, above a deli where we all bought coffee and bagels, were six apartments that some students rented. Masha came out the door while I was waiting there. She trudged across the street, then saw me and came to stand under the shelter. "Hi, beautiful," she said, brightening. "What are you doing here so late?" I told her and asked her the same. She told me that she had been at Peter Marrin's party. Peter lived across the street. He was a sophomore, and I knew him. He was a big time lady's man, great looking and smart, but never very clean. He also had a drinking problem, which is why I never went to his parties. He inevitably got maudlin at the end of them, and it depressed me. I asked her why she had left the party so early. She told me Peter had hit on her. "Oh, so you ran away?" I asked. "No," she said. "We did it. But it was over very quickly." She laughed and then told me they'd had an intense conversation for the first two hours of the party. "He's smart, you know," she told me. I nodded. He was. Eventually he took her into somebody's bedroom, and they talked some more. "He told me he just wanted to kiss me," she said. "And I don't know . . . we kissed, and of course I slept with him." She sighed. "But where was Shelly?" I said. Shelly was Peter's girlfriend, though everyone knew he cheated on her. "Out of town," said Masha. "That's the thing. I knew that he had a girlfriend, and I was just so into him I did it anyway. I've never done that before." We talked for a while about Shelly and Peter's relationship. I thought they were currently broken up so Masha shouldn't worry. Masha thought this did not matter because they were always breaking up, but everyone knew Peter was with Shelly for the long haul. I reminded her that Shelly had a small role in our play. She groaned and said that she was wearing Peter's shirt since hers had gotten something spilled on it. She needed to get it back to him right away. She seemed quite sober, though I am sure that she'd had one or two drinks. She denied alcohol as a contributing factor. "Though maybe it was for him," she said, sounding further disgusted. I attempted to reassure her by saying I knew at least two other women who'd slept with Peter while he was with Shelly and that Shelly, very appropriately, blamed him alone. "She knows who these people are, and she says hello to them as if nothing happened," I said. "She's forgiven them almost entirely. She understands it's Peter's problem. He can't be faithful." "Well, it takes two to tango," said Masha. "Thanks for trying, though. Sweet." That was when she hugged me. It wasn't the most intimate thing. We were both dressed in many layers, and I was soggy. It was nice, though, to get some measure of her size. Even with all of the clothes I could tell she was bony. She was maybe three inches taller than me, thin and angular feeling, like a young boy, but more delicate. She let go when the bus came, a few minutes later. "You made me all wet," she said as we got on, gesturing to Peter's water-splotched shirt. That Sunday morning Masha called me. My roommate Lindsay, who'd heard all about her, answered the phone. She asked who was calling, then shot me a smile. "Just a sec," she told Masha, "she's getting out of the shower." I was fully dressed and dry as a bone. "What are you doing?" I mouthed, grabbing for the phone. "Helping her imagination a little bit," Lindsay whispered, holding the phone out of reach. After what she determined was an acceptable waiting period, Lindsay gave me the phone. I was out of breath from repeatedly lunging for it. "Hello," I said. "Hi, you," said Masha. Her voice was liquid. "I wanted to thank you for listening. The other night, I mean." "Anytime," I told her. "Maybe I'll call you back later? You need to dry off or something, I'm sure." "No, no. I wasn't in the shower. Lindsay was just trying to spur your imagination." I glared at Lindsay, who smirked in the corner. "Oh," said Masha. I could hear her smile. "She's very convincing. Maybe she should be a drama major." "Maybe," I said. "Well you tell Lindsay for me," Masha said huskily, "that I've been imagining you quite well on my own." I tried not to sputter into the phone. Masha made small talk to let me recover before getting to the point. "Peter is having a cookout at the park," she said. "It'll be a great time to give him back his shirt. He'll be surrounded by people, so he won't try to talk to me, and Shelly is still away. I want you to come with me, Kelsey. You're the only person I've told, and I don't want to see him alone." "Yeah, better not," I agreed. Knowing Peter, he'd jump her, cookout or no cookout. But with me there, he wouldn't. We knew each other, and he cared what I thought of him. Masha and I met for lunch and then headed over to the park. It was warm enough during the day, but I knew that the cookout would break up when the sun started to go down. Peter would probably be drunk by then, and he would be begging people to stay and end up depressed and alone. I started to feel badly for him. When I saw the way he dealt with Masha, however, I realized he'd be fine. It was early, and there were only about 20 people there when we arrived. Peter was grilling steaks and still sober. He saw us and waved cautiously. Masha had washed his shirt and carried it in a paper bag. As we approached him, Peter looked at the bag and then at me. He figured out quickly that Masha would not want to see him again. A flash of disappointment passed over his face, and I knew he would have dumped Shelly for good this time, to have a chance with Masha. He recovered quickly, smiled at us and shook my hand. "It's good to see you, Kels," he said. "Will you guys stay for some food?" He knew the answer, but was graceful enough to ask. Masha spoke before I could say anything. "No, but thanks. I've got a monster paper to write. Just thought I'd bring you your shirt," she said, handing it to him. She smiled weakly. "Thanks for letting me borrow it." She could not look him in the eye. "No problem," he said bravely. He smiled at us both and touched Masha's shoulder. "Give me a call," he said quietly to her, "if you ever . . . want to." Masha nodded briefly, thanked him again and started to walk away. "What about you, Kelsey?" Peter asked before I turned to follow her. "Want to stick around? We'd love to have you, and there's plenty of food." I thanked him but said I could not stay. "Okay," he said, "I'll see you around, then." Walking backwards and waving, I studied him. He looked upset but not surprised, and he had been able to remember his manners. I turned around and ran to catch up with Masha. When I reached her, she seemed relieved. "Mission accomplished," she said. "Shirt returned without further incident." She grinned at me. "Thanks for coming. He looked good, didn't he?" I nodded. He had, I realized. Good for him. She sighed, and we stood on the sidewalk for a moment. She reached up to touch my arm. "Wanna take a walk?" she said. We strolled for a while, not saying anything. It was not a comfortable silence for me. Walking beside her, wanting to kiss her, but knowing I wouldn't was frustrating. A phone call and a bus stop conversation did not allow us to pretend it was anything more than physical. I was ashamed just then to want her only for that. Plus, I vaguely recalled that I was not single. When we parted, I stood watching Masha walk away, still dizzy with the scent of her from when she'd hugged me goodbye. I took stock of her once more, trying to assess what it was about her beauty that so moved me. In my quest for information, I had learned her father was Russian, and she was Slavic featured with a wide forehead and great cheekbones. Her hair was shoulder length, neither straight nor curly, a darkish blonde. Her eyes were blue, large and almost circular. She was spectacular looking, and I had never met anyone who looked at all like her. Her appeal was, I decided, unquantifiable, and I gave up. Later that day, I met Tim, my boyfriend, for dinner. I needed to talk to him about Masha. We were in a monogamous relationship, and he deserved to know that I was having some very non-monogamous thoughts. When I told him who she was, he said he knew her. "Nice choice, Kels!" he exclaimed, clapping me on the back so hard I nearly ate my straw. "She is entirely hot." "Ahem!" I said. "We are supposed to be talking about my unfaithful, lecherous thoughts here. Not yours." "Oh, right. Absolutely. Sorry." He grinned. "Hey, did you see her in The Seagull a couple years ago? She was fantastic. Made me go home and read Chekov all night." "Peter, I was in high school," I reminded him. Peter was a junior. "Oh, uh-huh. Always forgetting that," he said. "So that's why I was lost my freshman year. I was waiting for you to enter my life." "Gag me," I said. "Anyway, what do you think?" "Well, I'm okay with you thinking whatever you want. As long as you think of me in that way sometimes, too. But as far as you doing anything about it . . . well, I don't know. Do you know how she feels about you?" "To be honest, yeah. I mean, we haven't talked about it. But there is definitely a lot of looking going on." "Stop it, you're turning me on. I'm trying to be a supportive, unthreatened boyfriend here. It would help if you tried not to talk about my fantasies." "Okay. But I don't know how to talk about her without being sexual." "I said stop it." "Yeah, yeah," I said, poking him. "So, what do you want me to do? I love you, Tim, and I don't love her, but if she kisses me, I don't want to stop her." He was thinking, and I waited. He was a smart guy, but a slow thinker. I ate my salad. Ten minutes later he said, "Don't you think that love and lust are the same thing?" "No," I said. "Well why not?" he said. "You want Masha, but you will not admit to being in love with her because you are afraid." "I'm not afraid!" I said, offended. "Then why aren't you in love with her?" he said. "Obviously, the feelings are there." "What I feel for her is not a feeling," I said, not noticing the contradiction. "It is a bodily condition." We sat for a moment. "Feeling!" I said, scoffing. "It's nothing as wussy as that." He mulled it over. "But I think that when people talk about lust, they mean love and vice versa. It's just that love is so grandiose and lust is so demonized that we cannot equate them, even though they are the same thing." "I'll have to get back to you on that," I said, humoring him. "Meanwhile, what am I going to do when she kisses me? Tim, do you want me to stop her?" "Would you?" he said. "For me, I mean?" I thought about it. I nodded. "In that case," he said, grinning evilly, "I think that you should kiss her first." Gratitude washed over me. "Tim, you are a god." We had a great time that night. After dinner Tim took me to a scary movie. I crawled around in his lap, content with the choice I had made in him. I was enthralled by his every cell: his wit, his flat stomach, his gracious charm. We went back to his dorm room for sex. I am ashamed to admit that the evening, and my admiration for Tim were brought on in large part by the freedom he had given me with Masha. Tim really was a god, and I had known it before, but I never gave him what he deserved. I never, with the exception of that night, fucked him like he should have been fucked. The next day he called me while I was packing up to study in the library. "You know," he said, "if you're going to do to Masha what you did to me last night, I might have to reconsider." "Reconsider what?" I asked, honestly forgetting. "Reconsider letting you at her," he said. "I might never see you again." "Last night was for you, Tim. Besides," I laughed, "she doesn't have the same equipment. I'll have to use my other bag of tricks." "Thought I told you to stop it," he said. Tim had cheated on me once. Recently, in fact. The previous summer, we were apart, and he had sex with a woman named Dawn. He told me about it a few weeks afterwards. I was initially devastated, but not at all threatened. Now, I wondered if his infidelity was what made him so generous about Masha. If that was the case, I reasoned, he was ending up with the short end of the stick. The luxury of even thinking about Masha had to be better than his night with Dawn. The play would be up for only two weeks. It opened in early December, which meant we had all semester to rehearse. The first read-through was scheduled for a Friday night, the week after Masha and I had given Peter's shirt back. I had not seen her since then. It was a small cast, so Josh had the read-through at his apartment a few blocks north of campus. On the walk over I thought of Masha, trying to decide if I had blown my attraction to her out of proportion. I walked in, saw her sitting cross-legged on the couch, and knew that I had not. It was a decent enough read-through, but the entire time I was distracted. I'd been attracted to women before, but it had always been sort of optional. I could either chose to realize it or not, depending on the convenience of the situation. Being aware of Masha and the visceral pull of her was required. She wore an old drama department sweatshirt with a frayed neck. It tended to slide towards one shoulder or the other, exposing her collarbone. She was wearing jeans with one hole in the knee and another an inch below the back pocket. Between her exposed collarbone and the square inch of upper thigh that was exposed by the hole, I was fixated on her body. Had she been headless, I might not have noticed. I sat as far from her as was possible in Josh's small living room. I wanted to read the script without drooling. I had decided beforehand that this was a goal Josh would appreciate. When we took a break and were all milling around the kitchen, she took my hand and pulled me to sit next to her. Her thigh rested sloppily on top of mine for over an hour. She never sat on anything the way you were supposed to. At the end of the read- through, she leaned in and asked if I would let her buy me a drink. If I had been inclined to say no, her finger gliding down the side of my neck would have convinced me. As it was, I could only smile and nod. At the door when Masha and I were discussing where to go, Rick, one of the other cast members, overheard us. He immediately announced that we were going to Phoebe's for a drink and everyone else should come. Masha caught my eye and shrugged. Phoebe's was across the street from the drama department, on the opposite corner from Peter's apartment. It was a nice restaurant, actually, which turned into a bar for the theater-going crowd after plays. It had a dress code-no jeans or sneakers-but students and actors were pretty much exempt. We all rode over in Josh's truck, though it was only a couple blocks from his place. There were eight of us, including Josh's stage manager, so we were sitting in the back freezing. When we got there, Rick immediately sat between Masha and I and began talking about having a threesome. We joked about it for a while until Rick said, "Oh, but Tim might not like that." Masha Ch. 1 "Who is Tim?" asked Masha. Shit. I had wanted to tell her about him myself. "Tim is Kelsey's boyfriend." Masha suddenly seemed very upset. She saw Rick and I noticing and played it off. "Damn," she said, forcing a laugh, "so much for the threesome idea." "Tim might not mind a threesome," I said, trying to keep it light, "but I think it'd have to include him and not Rick." "But we can't have a threesome with Tim," Masha exclaimed. "I don't even know him!" "Oh, sure, you know Tim," said Rick. "He's that film major. Made the movie about trash." "Tim Wakey?" said Masha. Rick nodded. "Oh," said Masha, looking crestfallen. "He's a really nice guy." "You don't have to look so upset about it," said Rick, laughing. "Did you think he was single? 'Fess up! Were you tryin' to steal Kelsey's man?" "Something like that," said Masha, getting up and heading for the bar. "Geez, I didn't think he was that cute," Rick said to me. "No need for her to get all worked up about it. There are plenty of better looking guys around." "Hey!" I shouted. After all, he was my boyfriend. "He's cute enough." "Evidently," said Rick. We were quiet waiting for Masha to come back with our drinks. Rick and I were only 19, so we couldn't get them ourselves. In fact, all but two of the six cast members were sophomores. Most of the college bars had strict rules about buying drinks for others, but Phoebe's was not a college bar, so they were pretty easygoing. Masha returned and handed me a glass of wine without looking at me. Rick drank Coors Light or some such atrocity. Really, it was hard to believe he was trying to be an actor. He had frat boy written all over him, but he was likeable in spite of it. He was very down to earth, which I liked a lot after spending so much time with people who thought they could actually become characters in a play. "Anyway," Rick said, "who wants to host the cast party?" "Rick, we haven't even started rehearsals yet!" I said. "Yeah, are parties all you think about?" said Masha. "Well, yeah," he said, "what else is there?" In spite of her mood earlier, Masha seemed to enjoy the evening. After a while, we all ordered chocolate mousse and some other desserts to share. The kitchen closed at ten, but they served dessert until midnight. Masha and I were at a table with Rick, and the others were at two tables on either side of ours, so we all passed the plates back and forth. I wanted Rick to leave so that I could talk to Masha about Tim. I knew, however, that Rick, being a party boy, would likely outlast both of us. I took matters into my own hands. "I'm tired," I said, yawning and stretching. I tried to make sure, during the stretch, that Masha would see a little skin, but she was not even looking. "I'm going home." There was a chorus of boos. "C'mon," said Rick, "It's Friday!" I told him I had to meet my scene partner at nine the next morning, and then I began to gather my things. I glanced at Masha to see if she would get up. I could not force her to be alone with me if she didn't want to talk. After a second, to my great relief, she announced that she would walk with me. "Who's gonna buy my next drink?" said Rick, a little too loudly. "Keith or Josh will get it for you," she said. Keith was the other senior in the cast. Masha sidled up to me. "Ready to go?" she asked. I looked at her empty hands. "Don't you have any stuff?" I said. "No," she replied. "I'm in an anti-stuff phase. Don't you think," she said as we walked out the door, "that there is just too much stuff?" "Well, sure, but where do you put your money and your ID and your Chapstick?" "I put it in my pocket," she said. "If it doesn't fit, then I have too much." I thought about that as we walked. "You know," I said, "This bag is really heavy. Maybe you're right. But what about books?" "Surely you've noticed, Kelsey, that all the books we need for class are plays, and they are very small." This was true. "In fact," she said, "they can fit inside a coat pocket or an overall pocket, or you can just carry them. But why put them in a bag? A bag is just a hider of stuff. You have bags so that you can deceive yourself about what you have and what you need. Every year these freshmen come in with bigger and bigger bags. They put more and more stuff in them. Eventually they don't even know what is in the bag. How could you need something you didn't even know was there?" "I don't know," I said. "Trust me," she said. "Eliminate your stuff. You'll be amazed at how free you feel." "Okay," I said. "Maybe tomorrow." I was not just going to leave my bag on the street, after all. We walked in silence for a while. I looked at her profile in the streetlights and felt myself grow wet. "Why did it bother you?" I asked her. "About Tim, I mean." No answer. She walked faster. I kept up. "Look," I said, "I wouldn't be asking if I didn't want." "Kelsey," she stopped, turning to face me. "I think you know why it bothered me. I don't think I've ever been more clear. It was stupid of me to assume you were single. I am a grown woman and can deal with not always getting what I want. Let's leave it at that." Before I could say anything, she started talking about Tim. She said she knew him fairly well. She'd been in a class with him her sophomore year, and one of her housemates was an actor in his trash film. "I didn't really like his trash film," I told her, surprising myself. I'd never admitted this to Tim. "Why didn't you like it?" she asked. "Well, no good reason, I guess. But, trash. You know. Pretentious to make a film about it, don't you think?" "Yes, I think," she said, grinning. We had reached our parting point. Masha lived in a house east of campus. My dorm was on the western edge. I wanted to tell her that Tim and I had talked about her, but I knew that it wouldn't matter. Pursuing me now would feel to her too much like what she had done with Peter. So what she said next surprised me. "Kelsey," she said, "you and Tim-how serious are you?" We'd talked about marriage. "Not at all," I said. We both knew I was lying. For the next few weeks, I could think of nothing but Masha. I did not see her, but saw her desirability unfolding before me like a new understanding of the sun-brighter and larger than any fathomable quantity, distant and untouchable, yet all that I could see. I exercised frantically. I put my image of her at the end of the treadmill and ran. This was the only activity that allowed me to feel as if I were doing anything at all. Eventually, I understood marathon runners. It was not masochism that drove them. It was desire. Three weeks after our drink at Phoebe's, Rick was having a party. I knew I would see Masha there. The night before the party I had class until 6, then dinner with Tim, so I did not get to the gym until 9. I ran a long time, searching within my image of Masha for a clue as to what was happening to me. I tried to reconcile Tim's views on love with my own. I knew that I was not in love with her. I was just beginning to like her. And I loved Tim, but had denied him sex more times than I could count. I could not imagine ever refusing Masha. In the throes of appendicitis I would want her. When I could not run any more, I stumbled out of the gym and fell backwards onto the grass. I closed my eyes and rested there, gasping desperately for breath. I pushed my hand across my stomach and felt my sweat, wishing it were hers. I opened my eyes and, seeing the stars it struck me. Tim was onto something, but he was wrong. The entire world was wrong. Love and lust were not the same thing. Lust was better. The Hallmark hierarchy was all screwed up. We were a world full of fools, talking and thinking and being moral about love when our bodies provide us with a variety of liquid proof that we are alive. To feel the sweat rise from nothing, to have my blood flow more quickly, to be miraculously slick between my legs at the thought of another person was new and implicitly urgent. Lust, not love, was the ultimate human condition. And I would likely forget about this, and go around eventually saying I was in love with Masha. But right then I knew what I was: a liquid-filled vessel in homage to her sex appeal. When I arrived at Rick's party, she was sitting on the couch, surrounded by admirers. Tim had not come, since he and Rick did not get along. Tim hated frat boys. Rick hated pretentious film majors. Rick greeted me and offered me a shot of something blue. "Nice outfit, Kels," he said, leering at me. I was wearing tight black leather pants and a tiny t-shirt that said "Born to be used." It was an ad for some new operating system. My engineering pals had given it to me. None of them had the nerve to wear it. "Thanks," I said. I downed the shot, and Rick noticed me looking at Masha. "She should have an autograph signing or something, huh?" he said. I nodded. I was trying to figure out if my competition was mostly men or women and if they all wanted to get down her pants or just get acting tips, not that it mattered. "Although now that you're here, in those pants, maybe she'll get a break," said Rick. I flashed him a smile as I headed for Masha. "I don't think so," I said. I sauntered over and caught her eye over the throng of suitors. That was all it took. She excused herself and came over to me. "Hi," she said, trying to find an appropriate place to look. She was wearing a grayish, v-neck sweater and the holey jeans. I smiled, but said nothing. It was too noisy to talk anyway. I started towards the kitchen, and gestured for her to follow. When we got there, I turned to her, put my hands on her hips and pushed her, hard, into the pantry door. She was leaning against it now, looking at me, her eyes glinting, her breathing irregular. "I am in love," she said as I leaned in to kiss her, "with your pants." When I touched her lips with mine she yielded immediately. I opened slightly, and my tongue met hers once, quickly. I heard her moan and gave her my tongue again. She tasted like wine. Soon we were making out like adolescents, sloppily and in a rush. Her hands were drawing a line across my stomach, beneath my shirt. I kept my hands on her hips, cupped around the front of them, pressing her harder against the door to hold myself up. When we finally came up for air I was dimly aware of her troubled expression, the applause and catcalls of several onlookers and my own incoherent rebirth. "Kels," she said softly, "one of us is practically engaged." I nodded, still unable to speak. I leaned forward, resting my body on hers. I lowered my forehead and allowed it to rest on her shoulder. She was still panting and had one hand in my hair. The other was trapped between us, still on my stomach. We stood there for a moment. "God help me," she said, turning her head and tracing my ear with her tongue, "I want you, and if you continue like this I am not going to make it. I will implode from lust." "I talked to Tim about you," I told her. "I'm flattered," she said, dragging her lips along my neck. "After his name came up at Phoebe's, I was certain I'd misread you." "No," I said, gasping as her fingers trailed downward on my stomach. "I am fully intending to push you away," she told me matter of factly. Her hand reached the edge of my pants, and her fingers curled inside the waistband. "In just a sec . . . " "You couldn't," I said. "I have leverage on my side." She laughed. "It has nothing to do with leverage," she said, pulling me into her and kissing me. This time she was slowly sensual, pulling her tongue through me, groaning and pressing up into me. Finally, she let me go, and we both rested for a moment. I was sure that by now a crowd had gathered to watch us, but I didn't want to look. "So, what did Tim say?" she asked me. "Can I have you, or are you just trying to kill me, hitting on me like this?" "You can have me," I told her. "In fact I am going to follow you home." "That is very sweet, but I can't--" she said, tugging me toward her by my pants and licking me, "wait. Now let me up, and I'll be right back." I tried to stand but had leaned so far into her I had to use the pantry door to push myself up. She escaped by ducking under my arm. She went off somewhere. I turned around, rested up against the door and tried to catch my breath. I hoped she wouldn't be gone long. After a minute, Josh came by, looking for ice. "Hi, Kelsey," he said. "Hi, Josh." I tried to guess if he had seen Masha and I. "From the looks of things earlier, I guess she's gone to get you two a room." I blushed and tried to look innocent. "You know rehearsals start Monday night, and I want you bright-eyed and bushy- tailed, so don't get carried away," he continued. "I don't see how . . ." I started angrily. "I'm kidding," he said, grinning. "Do what you want. It's none of my business." He patted me on the shoulder and left. I was just beginning to wonder about him and his thinly veiled jealousy when Masha returned. She had a bag of stuff with her. "What's up with the stuff?" I asked, grinning. "Well, sometimes you have to make exceptions," she said. I hoped the stuff was not sex toys. With her, I wanted to use my hands. She took my arm and led me through the kitchen into a back hallway to a door. "The thing about quality frat houses," she said as she jingled a set of keys, "is that they have wine cellars that lock." She unlocked the door, opened it and pushed me unceremoniously inside. I walked down the stairs slowly in the darkness. She locked the door behind us, came down, and walked over to me. She pulled out some fat candles and a lighter and placed them on some crates around us. She started lighting them at top speed. "If you don't take your time with those, we're gonna start a fire," I warned. "I am" she said through gritted teeth "in a hurry," but she slowed down anyway. When all of the candles were lit, the place was beautiful and haunting. It was sprawling and must have contained hundreds of wine racks, most of them about half- filled. The racks were wooden, the floor bare. Masha took out a blanket and laid it on the floor. "I don't suppose," she said almost shyly, "that you want any wine?" I shook my head. She knew what I wanted. The realization of what was about to happen hit me, and I found myself shaking and almost sick with it. I looked away from her to collect myself, but before long she came up behind me. I knew she was there, but still gasped when I felt her arms surround me. She nuzzled the back of my neck, and I moaned. Her hands crawled under my shirt and she rested them there. "I have been thinking about your stomach since the day we met," she told me. She turned me around, pushed my shirt up, and knelt to drag her lips slowly past my navel. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. Among other things," she said as she moved one hand up over my breast. I shuddered and pulled her up next to me. I kissed her and pulled my fingers along her neck. Her tongue entered my mouth and played there. I could not think of her arousal any more but gave in to my own, drawing my hands quickly along her body. I traced the shape of her collarbone with my fingers. When I reached her rib cage, I ripped her shirt to feel her. She moaned into my mouth as I touched her. I flattened my palm against her side, then moved my hand slowly around to graze her breast. She gasped and took her mouth away from mine. She pushed me down onto the blanket and straddled me, looked down at me and smiled, then kissed me again. This time my tongue moved more slowly with hers, lingering there while she unbuttoned my pants. She left them on me and brought her mouth to my neck. Together we struggled to get me shirtless, and then spent some quality time making out in our bras. I could tell she was ready for more, but she was a phenomenal kisser, and I was reluctant to let her lips go anywhere else. After about half an hour of this, she started to whine. "You lied," she said between kisses, "you are trying to kill me." "No," I panted, "but I don't want to stop kissing you. You're just going to have to figure something else out." She could always go down on me tomorrow, I reasoned. That was the last amount of reasoning I did. She continued kissing me, but her hands roamed my body much more recklessly than they had been. She removed my bra and traced her fingers across my nipple. It hardened instantly and I whispered her name. As she took my other breast in her hand I had to pull away to breathe. Still hovering over me, she drew her tongue down my chest and circled it around my nipple. She sucked it as she put her hand on my knee and slowly moved it upward. I was trembling and panting, afraid I would come before she touched me. She, however, had no worries, and continued flicking my nipple with her tongue. I groaned and pushed myself forward into her mouth, almost embarrassed at how hot I was. Her hand reached my crotch and touched me through my pants. "Oh, God," I gasped. She squeezed hard, and I could feel my wetness seeping under the leather. I felt my entire body enslaved by her hand. I wanted her to take off my pants so she could touch me more directly, but I did not want her to take her hand away from my cunt. "Masha," I breathed, "please." She needed no further encouragement, and got me naked in a flash. She came back up and kissed me again while her fingers trailed down over my mons. She reached around and touched my lips, moaned and gave me more of her tongue, then opened me slowly and entered. She fucked me gently for a while, using two of her fingers while I pushed my hips forward to meet her, my body rushing into orgasm. She withdrew her hand as I caught my breath. I kissed her then, using my tongue to express how enthralled I was. I had never come that quickly. She played languidly with my pussy as I kissed her, then began to trace my clit with her fingers. I almost came again in that instant, but was glad I hadn't when her fingers began a slow circling. She stroked me gently and finally stopped kissing me. She rested her head next to mine and panted as she touched me. My clit felt gigantic, straining to meet her fingers as she stroked. She suddenly slowed her strokes and brought her finger to the tip of my clit. She rubbed it gently. I was on the verge of orgasm and knew that in an instant, I'd be coming for her. Then she began to stroke me faster, and I was trembling. "Oh," I moaned, "fuck, yes." My hips again pushed forward into her hand, and she rubbed me harder until I came. The party above us was still going on, and I could hear the music pounding as I cried out her name. Afterwards, she went inside and fucked me, much harder than she had before, until I was turned on all over again. I rolled her over and kissed her, pulling off the rest of her clothes as she struggled to keep her hand inside me. She was pressing her middle finger into my g-spot, her thumb was back on my clit, and it was difficult for me to do anything, but I wanted her. "This is not," I panted stubbornly, just before I came again, "going to be a one- way thing." Then my body hurled me into oblivion, and I creamed all over her hand for the third time. She smiled, her hand still inside me, her thumb still on my clit, as I caught my breath. "I never thought it would be," she told me gently. "But you come so beautifully, and I'm not finished with you yet." "You," I said to her in frustration, "are naked, and in none of my fantasies about you naked did I just lie here coming like this." "Hmm," she said slyly, "that's funny. Because you did in all of mine." She gave me just enough of herself to get me excited again. Then she flipped me back over and kissed me, having learned by now that this made me forget what I was doing. She had me again, half without my realizing it, her fingers long and subtle, touching me so skillfully I came without wanting to, and exploring my mouth with her tongue the entire time. Then finally, she let me touch her for the first time. Masha Ch. 1 I pushed her down again and held her there. I kissed her, held her wrists tight against the floor, then brushed her nipple with my nose. When she shivered, I took it roughly in my mouth and beat it back and forth with my tongue. I could hear her responding, her legs opened up, and she stopped struggling to touch me. Now that we had established whose turn it was, I brought my knee up between her legs slowly. I kissed her again, trying to dominate her tongue as I felt the smear of wetness from her pussy on my knee. I felt her push her hips forward onto me and praised her with a groan. Finally, I let her hands free and took her nipple between my fingertips. I kept kissing her and brought my other hand down to her inner thigh. I began a slow, hard rubbing and moved upward while I continued to twist her nipple gently between my finger and thumb. I stopped kissing her and ran my tongue down her neck and along her collarbone. I kept going past her navel. Right above her bush I stopped and placed kisses all the way across to her hips. When I got there, my hand had reached her lips, and I paused before touching her. As my fingers opened her and found her clitoris, she whispered my name above me, and I bit into the bone of her hip, a little harder than I had intended. I rubbed her clit and ran my teeth and tongue over her torso as I felt her body rise. I stroked her hot vulva and looked greedily at the expanse of her body before me. I could not believe my luck. She was moaning and gasping now, and I could not help but slide my fingers into her. I brought my head down to look at her as I fucked her, and she arched forward into my face. I kept my fingers in her, my other hand still working her nipple, as I lowered my mouth onto her pussy. She had come already by now, I thought, but that did not deter me. I pushed my face into her, let my tongue loose on her clit, and started to push into her g-spot with short, hard thrusts. By this time she had grabbed onto my head and was starting to shake. Her ass was six inches off the floor, and her pelvis was grinding into me. I had only been there a few minutes when she came again, this time more noticeably, crying out my name and shuddering. She pulled me back up along her body and threw her arms around me, then kissed me slowly, savoring the taste of herself. We lay there kissing for a while, and I pulled my fingers gently down her back. Before long, my hand had come to her thigh, and I took the opportunity to find her again with my fingers. This surprised her, and she gasped, quickly reaching down for me as well. I played with her outer lips gently, then slowly began to meander towards her clit. Her wetness allowed me to feel every nook and cranny of her, and I kissed her again as I did so. She began to tease me as I reached her clit and stroked her, running her fingers through my bush and making quick strokes along my upper thigh. Finally, as she groaned in her own excitement, she separated my labia and zeroed in on my clit, squeezing it gently and shoving her tongue into my mouth. We stroked each other like this, and it was not long before we came, together and moaning into each other's mouths. We stopped touching each other, somewhat reluctantly, and lay clinging together on the floor. Neither of us spoke. I looked over at her and was astounded to find that lying there I began to want her again. I was too ashamed to admit that after all of this I could still be horny, so I sat up, pretending I wanted to get dressed. Before I could stand, she was on me again with renewed ardor. "Where," she asked as she laid me flat and spread my legs, "do you think you are going?" I could not answer her as by then her tongue had reached my again swollen clit, and she was lapping at it while she reached up to pull my nipple with her fingers. It was not long before her tongue had me squirming and thrusting and coming all over her face. She climbed back up on top of me and looked me in the eye. "You," she said importantly, putting her finger on my nose, "taste wonderful." I giggled and blushed. "I don't think blushing is necessary between us," she said. "We've grown quite close, don't you think?" I agreed that we had. We decided we were hungry and began to plan our escape from the wine cellar. The party had ended, so it was easy. When we had successfully arrived on the sidewalk outside the frat house, she turned to me. "Do you still want to follow me home?" she asked. "I'll feed you, and we could take a shower." "I'd love to, but I'm exhausted. I can't thank you enough for what you've done to my body. Going home with you now, however." "Okay, I get it. You want to sleep," she said. "No problem." She took my face in her hands and kissed me, pushing her tongue into my mouth and lingering slowly there. I could taste myself on her, and began to regret going back to my room alone. "Rain check?" she said. I nodded. I turned and began to head home. Running 14 miles a day on the treadmill had not left me sore, but one night of sex with Masha and I could barely walk. I had pulled a hamstring or maybe both, I realized as I took another step. By the time I reached my dorm, the sun was rising, I was a lesbian, and I had discovered that taking smaller steps was key. Masha Ch. 2 I fell onto my bed but could not sleep. I got up and took a shower, then looked around for something to do. I had done all of my homework, even finished two papers that were not due for months. I looked into my hamper but found it did not contain enough for even one load. My desk was clean, my bed was made, I had called my parents the day before. Bills had been paid, email answered, blood donated, lines memorized. I looked in my desk drawers and saw neat stacks of records and receipts, enumerating what I had been up to. It struck me then that wanting Masha had led me to a bizarre state of overachievement. I had always been a decent student, and fairly tidy, but now I was impassioned. I was pursuing excellence, thinking that when I found it, she would be there. Lindsay was home, but asleep. I woke her up. "Jesus, Kelsey, it's six in the morning!" she bellowed. "I slept with her," I told her. "No shit," said Lindsay, sitting up. "Good for you." "I have to break up with Tim," I announced. "What? You barely know her!" "Not for her, silly. For me. I'm not attracted to him. Not enough, anyway. I think I must be a lesbian." "And you never noticed this when you slept with me? You are in trouble!" She huffed and folded her arms. "Maybe you are not the person to have this discussion with," I ventured. I started to get up. "No, no, no!" She grabbed me and pulled me back down. "It's okay. I didn't become a lesbian after sleeping with you either. But poor Tim!" I nodded. "But Tim is like a 7, which is great if the sexiest you've ever seen is a 10, which it was until Masha. But Masha is like a 23 quatrillion." Lindsay and I often measured things in numbers. "Quatrillion is not a word," said Lindsay. "And by the way, what am I?" "Oh, at least an 8." I knew it was important to her that she be higher than Tim. "But she could turn out to be an asshole," Lindsay said, going back to Masha. "Who cares? She's a 23 quatrillion. If I wanted nice, I'd stick with Tim." "Well, she could stop wanting you," Lindsay suggested. "Stranger things have happened." "They have," I agreed. "Still, I have to break up with Tim. I am an ass not to have done it before. I knew that I didn't want him enough weeks ago on the treadmill." "What?" Lindsay was confused. "What does jogging have to do with it?" "Never mind. I have to go. Thanks," I said, "for listening." I got up and left. Sunday morning I was at Masha's door. She had called twice on Saturday, but I had been with Tim. It occurred to me as I knocked that perhaps I should have called her back, instead of just showing up. I stood there pondering in the cold. I had dressed carefully, trying not to look like I had. I wore a little gray wool skirt and my black leather jacket. Lindsay called the outfit my "study in opposites." Eventually, Jane, one of Masha's housemates, showed up and let me in. "Hi," I said. Jane was a drama major, and I had met her a couple of times. "Morning," she said, smiling. "Masha's in the shower. Want some coffee while you wait?" I followed her into the kitchen, where all three of Masha's other housemates were puttering around with cups of coffee and newspapers and bagels and things. "Quite a hubbub," I commented to Jane after she introduced me to everyone. "Yeah, it's a big house, but the kitchen gets crowded mornings." She handed me a cup of coffee and sat opposite me at the table. "So, rehearsals for you guys start tomorrow, yeah?" Jane asked. I nodded. We talked a little bit about the play and about professors. Then Jane told Eric, one of the housemates, "Go tell Masha Kelsey's here. She's gotta be out by now." Eric nodded conspiratorially and left. Jane and I kept chatting until Masha came in. She was wearing a very small tank top and boxers. She seemed like a haven of smooth skin, stomach and thighs. How anyone else in the room was still standing was beyond me. Our eyes met, and I grinned like an idiot. My cunt was oozing instantly, and I was sweating and drooling and breathless. I spread my legs instinctively, under the table, and was immediately sorry when my hamstring throbbed. Masha came over and sat next to me. "Hi," she said, gloating over the state I was in. "Hi," I told her. Jane got up and left the room. Masha and I just sat there. She looked at me directly, smiling but not saying anything. I stirred my coffee needlessly. The others soon wandered off as well, casually and one after the other. It was so subtle I almost would have thought they had other things to do. She had them well trained. Finally she said, "I was wondering if you would call me back." "Well, I guess I didn't, but I'm here. Is that okay?" "Uh-huh." She gave me another slow smile. I tried to maintain my composure, but ended up taking her hand and sucking on her index finger. After a moment, she gently took her hand away. I almost cried. "Don't think I wouldn't give my first born to have you sucking my fingers, but I think that we should talk," she said. "Talk?!" I almost shouted. She laughed. "I know. It isn't our forte, but I have some things to tell you." I waited. "I may be a slut," she said, "but I am not interested in suffering, so I need to know if your agreement with Tim was for one night with me or what." "I broke up with Tim," I told her, knowing it was risky. "Well, I hope not on my account," she said, trying not to look alarmed. "I want you on and on and on, but I don't love you or anything." "I know. I don't love you either, but I am evidently a raging lesbian, and Tim is clearly a man." "Oh," she said, sounding relieved but confused. "You know rumor has it you are the preeminent bisexual." "Rumor is wrong," I told her. "I was mistaken, too." "Gee, this talking stuff is full of surprises." She stretched and yawned. Then she got up and went over to the coffee pot. "I'm just gonna stand over here where I can't smell you," she said, grinning sheepishly. "I promised myself I would talk to you, and I have a few more things to cover." "Okay," I said. She poured herself a cup of coffee and took a sip. "So, you know that was my first time with a woman." "What?" It is a good thing I was sitting. "But I heard you made out with Emily Heidiker in dance studio A." "Right. We were interrupted." "So, what, you just stopped and left?" I was incredulous. I could not imagine anyone not finishing with Masha. "Brandon Mitchell walked in on us. He wanted to practice pirouettes or some dumb thing, and he insisted we give up the room. By the time we found another place, the mood had passed." "So, you never…" "No." "But you…" I stopped. "I what?" she said. "You had me coming my guts out. You hit my g-spot on the first try." I was astounded. "I guess experience doesn't count for much." "I don't know. But I've always thought imagination," she said, looking me up and down "is very powerful." "I guess so," I murmured, remembering the way she had handled me. I wanted to tell her about it, to thank her, worship her, give her money, whatever. But I could not find the medium. That, I decided, is why there is sex. To thank people. Thank you for being so good with your hands that you made me come six times in effortless abandon, for instance. Thank you for being so goddamn beautiful that I run an hour on the treadmill, do four loads of laundry and all of my homework for the next two months without even noticing, for instance. Thank you for pulling your body through the world in such an intensely sexual way that I am born again like a freaking Christian, for instance. I sat in the chair, looking into my coffee and not knowing what to do. I repeated to myself like a mantra, "You are not in love . . . you are not in love." We had been silent for several minutes when Masha spoke. "Right now," she said huskily, coming over to me, "I am imagining you, on your back on that table." She came up behind me and dragged her lips along my neck, reaching around me to cup my breast. She slowly stroked my nipple with her thumb and I felt it harden through my shirt. I started to pant. She pulled me up and kissed me, nudging her tongue into my mouth. She let go of my breast and ran her hands down my ribcage and around to my ass. She stood there shaping my body with her hands and kissing me for a while, more slowly and more deeply than she had before. Her tongue wound its way around mine, pulling itself across my teeth as she moaned. She pulled her lips from mine, moved down and grazed her teeth along my throat. "You have an incredible body," she murmured as she pushed me backwards into the table, continuing to kiss my neck and beginning to knead my thigh. "We're in the kitchen," I managed to stammer as her hand moved slowly up my thigh. "What if somebody comes?" "Nobody is going to come in here," she told me as she bit gently into the side of my neck. "We have weekly house meetings, and there is a policy in place about you." She stopped and straightened up, looking at me and tracing my lips with her index finger. "So, do you want me to stop or what?" "Absolutely not," I told her, taking her finger in my mouth. "Good," she grinned at me. "Now, about our sex: It seemed the other night," she began, pushing me back into the table, "like you were primarily a finger girl, but I was hoping we could renegotiate that because I need to taste you again. Often." "I don't know," I teased. I nibbled on the tip of her middle finger. "How often would that be?" "Well, now for starters," she replied as she leaned in to kiss me. I was dizzy as her tongue again swept me into bliss and pressed back against the table for support. It slid across the kitchen and stopped against the wall. We shuffled sloppily towards it, Masha guiding me. She picked me up, still kissing me and sat me on top of it. She pulled her finger down my neck and started to unbutton my shirt. My clit was hard and hot and aching. I put my arms around her neck and kissed her more intensely. She responded and brought her palm again to my breast. She squeezed it, then took the nipple through the fabric of my shirt and twisted. I groaned and pulled her other hand under my skirt to my crotch. She seemed excited by my urgency and quickly unbuttoned the rest of my blouse while kneading my pussy through my panties. I took my mouth away from her to breathe and drew my tongue down behind her ear. "Oh, God, Masha. Yes," I gasped as she pressed into my cunt and reached beneath my bra to stroke my nipple. I spread my legs further, wincing from my hamstrings but not caring, and pushed my pelvis to the edge of the table. She removed her hand from between my legs and removed my skirt. I lifted up to let her pull it off of me. I was so wet I made a spot on the table. I needed her to touch me and wished I had not worn underwear. It was only another second before she was back, licking my lips and then kissing me while she reached beneath my panties for my clit. I gasped and moaned as she separated my lips with her fingers and found it. It was swollen and pulsing, and she stroked it so slowly it was hard to tell she was moving her fingers at all. She could tell from how I kissed her that I was close, and she did not want me to come until she was licking me. She removed my panties, then resumed the subtle stroking. After a few moments of this, I found I could not wait for her to eat me, which was surprising to me because she had been right. I was usually a finger girl. Now, however, I was only just managing not to beg, as she touched me with maddening slowness. Finally, knowing she had planned it, I stopped kissing her and gasped into her ear. "Masha," I whispered, shaking and weak "eat me. Please." 7 She did not make me ask a second time, but laid me back on the table, pushed my legs open roughly and dove in. The pressure of her tongue on my clit was much firmer and sharper than her fingers' stroking had been, and I immediately began to gasp and shudder, grabbing her head and bucking my hips into her. Her tongue flicked my clit until I came quickly, moaning and whispering her name. She pushed her tongue into my hole while I closed and opened around it. She pulled her head up and watched me as she slid two fingers into me and fucked me, hitting my g-spot until I was newly excited. After a while she withdrew her fingers, lowered her head and began to circle my clit again with her tongue. She licked me slowly and gently for a long time. She was exploring me, drawing her tongue between my folds and only occasionally hitting my clitoris. Soon, I knew that I would come again despite her best efforts to keep me hovering on the edge. Finally, she brought her tongue to my clit and stayed there, lapping at it steadily. I heard her groan as she slid one finger into me again and reached up for my nipple with her other hand. I was much louder as orgasm engulfed me the second time, hurling me into waves of ecstasy. My climax lasted for almost a minute, and Masha gripped my thighs as she followed me, never losing contact with my clit. I lay there panting afterwards, opening my eyes and trying to focus. Masha, still in her tank top and boxers, climbed onto the table with me and held me as I caught my breath. I looked at her, still feeling myself clench, and pulled her to me. I kissed her once, my body languid with eroticism. "I hope this doesn't freak you out," I whispered to her, "but that was the best orgasm of my life." She smiled. "Guess we solved that problem," she said proudly. "What problem is that?" I asked her. "You being a finger girl." I laughed. "Yeah. So much for that." I was still a finger girl, but did not want to break her spirit. "Now, I'm just your girl," I said, rolling toward her. I realized the table was hard. "Can we go to your bed?" I asked her. She nodded. I got up, and we cleaned the table together. Then I grabbed all of my clothes and followed her. We sprinted so I could avoid being seen naked by her housemates in the hallway. When we got there, I dropped my clothes and started taking hers off as I kissed her. Within a minute I had reached into her boxers, groaning, and shoved three of my fingers into her sloppy wet cunt. I fucked her, pulling my fingers up into her g-spot, and she moaned softly as I shoved her backwards onto the bed. I leered at her from above, took her nipple roughly into my mouth and gently nipped at it as I pulled my hand out of her pussy and rubbed her engorged clit. She gasped and started to shake and come before I could stop her. I quashed my disappointment and stayed with her, rubbing her clit vigorously as she shuddered and moaned in my arms. I stopped touching her pussy and concentrated on her breasts as she recovered, sucking one nipple while caressing her other breast with my palm. Her nipples were stiffer than I remembered them, and the thought sent a pang to my cunt. I flicked my tongue over her left nipple and squeezed the other between my thumb and forefinger as I straddled her left leg and pushed my again excited pussy into her knee. She brought it up into me, sighing, and I could tell she was ready to come again. I continued to toy with her nipples as I pushed my knee into her vulva. She was still wet from before and pushed her hips into me, closing her eyes and moaning. I kissed her, entwining my tongue with hers as I reached down between her legs. I pulled her lips apart and teased her for a while, touching her crevices as she gasped and pleaded with me to take her. Finally, I gave her clitoris some attention, nudging it quickly with my thumb and then lowering my body so I could take her with my mouth. I inhaled greedily and looked at her for a moment, pulling her apart with my fingers as she whimpered for more direct contact. Her lips were glistening with wetness, and her clitoris was red and erect. I took it between my fingers and squeezed gently, then gave it a few quick strokes as she gasped. I was drooling by now and could not tease her any longer. I shoved my face into her and licked her whole vulva clean. Then I pushed my tongue between her lips and pulled it up slowly onto her clit tip. I began gently to trace circles around it as I slid my fingers back into her vagina. My own cunt was throbbing by now, and I was grateful when she pulled me around so that my pussy hovered over her face. She clamped one arm around my thigh, then used her other hand to open me up and slide her finger along my slit. I groaned and flicked her clit more avidly, continued fucking her and tried to fight off my already approaching orgasm. She stroked me a couple of times with her finger, then put her face into me and started licking. We ate each other, and she began to moan into my pussy. Soon, she doubled her pace and I could no longer stop my ascent. Instead, I flicked her clit more rapidly with my tongue and slid my fingers in and out of her. She was writhing and groaning now, and I allowed myself to let go. My clit was enflamed with sensation as we both came, clinging to each other and gasping as we licked. After a few minutes it occurred to me that I might be squashing her. I crawled over to her side, and she rolled towards me, pushing the hair out of my eyes and beginning to kiss me again. I relaxed in her arms and kissed her back, engulfed in the eroticism of her tongue discovering mine. We lay there making out, not trying to make each other come for once. I was giddy with the knowledge that after all those orgasms, she still wanted to lie here and kiss me. After what seemed like an hour, there was a knock on the door. She pulled away, and I whimpered. "Yeah?" she said. "Um. So sorry to disturb." It was Jane's voice. "We're grilling steaks for dinner. Do you guys want some?" Masha looked at me. "No way is it dinner time," I whispered, shocked. She smiled. "Yeah," she said to Jane, through the door. "We want. Give us a half hour?" "Okay," Jane said, "we'll put yours on last." I heard her run back down the stairs. Masha got up and rummaged through her dresser. She pulled out a pile of clothing and pulled me out of bed. "C'mon," she said, "shower with me." We ran down the hallway to the bathroom naked, Masha carrying the clothes. In the shower, she took me again. I came quickly, gasping and pressed against the tiles, her fingers stroking me into one climax after another. Finally I could not come anymore. We got out and dressed. She let me borrow some clothes, since the ones I had worn over had my juices all over them. Her clothes smelled like her. They were just a bit too big for me, and I liked that. We got downstairs 45 minutes later, but Jane did not comment on it. Our food was still warm, and Eric and the others were sitting around the table, which had been moved back into the center of the room. All of Masha's housemates went out of their way to make me feel as if our all-day fuck-a-thon had gone unnoticed, and I was grateful. Masha sat beside me, grinning and chatting with her friends, her fingers warm on my thigh. After dinner, we offered to clean the kitchen, since we had done none of the cooking. I enjoyed the familiar touches she gave me as we worked. The housemates stayed at the table, chatting and finishing their wine. As we were finishing up, she came up behind me. "Spend the night?" she whispered. I dropped the cup I was drying. It was plastic, and bounced and rolled. I chased it down and started to wash it again. I didn't know what was wrong with me. "Look, Kelsey, I know you're tired." Masha had followed me back to the sink. She grinned, taking the cup from me and putting it down on the counter. "I'll let you sleep. I'll just hold you. I promise." I was tired, although my hamstrings were beginning to adapt to her onslaught. Mainly, though, I was afraid because my desire was not lessening. I was afraid that if I spent any more time with her, I would ask her to fuck me raw. Masha Ch. 2 "Okay," I told her, getting hot again at the thought. "But I have a class at 8:30." She nodded. "I'll drive you back to your dorm at 7 so you can change. Eric will lend me his car." I doubted she had class until 11. Seniors almost never did. I was touched that she was willing to get up so early just to have me sleep with her. I spent the night making love to her, glorying in the beauty of her body and trying to make her come as often as I had. She did let me sleep, as promised, but I kept waking up in her arms to roll over and reach for her, fingers seeking her clit. In the morning, she took me back to my dorm and kissed me goodbye in front of the mail guy at the front desk. My 8:30 was drama lit, and I quickly learned the story of Masha and I making out at Rick's party had gone through the department like wildfire. Most of the guys I saw, and some of the women congratulated me on my bravado. I was now "Kelsey, who pushed Masha into the pantry door." My friend Gloria whom I always sat next to hadn't seen it because she'd missed the party. Nevertheless, she was impressed. "You know, I heard about you this weekend," she said. "I heard what you did to that girl up against the pantry door, and I give you praise. The thing about that girl is she's always gotta be the top slut. It's about time somebody pushed her into a door." "It's sex, Gloria, not a fistfight," I told her, laughing. "Yeah," she said, "still you got your top and you got your bottom, and we are all sick of her picking people out and doing them until they can't even see. About time somebody did that to her." I was unfamiliar with Masha's reputation as the "top slut," but Gloria insisted it was well known. "She's always getting to people, but doesn't let anybody get to her," she explained. "From what I heard you did, though." She beamed at me proudly. "From what I heard my girl Kelsey had her all flushed and panting. I heard she couldn't even walk straight after you pushed her up against that door. And all you did was kiss her, right?" I nodded. For the rest of the day, I was in a haze. Gloria's spin on what had happened was a common one, and it left me curious about what I was to Masha. It was a typical girl reaction, and I scolded myself, but still I wanted to know. I had no problem being a conquest for her, but I didn't want it to be over before I was satisfied. With all the sex we'd had, I still felt as if I had not even skimmed the surface of what I wanted to do to her. By the time I went to our first rehearsal that evening, I had stopped hearing the part of the rumor about how I had transformed Masha and only heard the part about her invincibility. I was emotional and distracted, convinced I would never touch her again. Josh and I arrived before the others, and we discussed the scene we would be working. Masha and I were called at six every evening while the rest of the cast came in at seven. She and I needed the additional time to work because we were the main characters and had the most scenes together. When she arrived Josh had us work on our relationship generally before leading us into a particular scene. I could tell he was not happy with the way we were reading it, but instead of directing us, he just frowned and whispered notes to his stage manager. When the others arrived, I was relieved to have the tension broken. We began to work a group scene towards the end of the play. Josh directed the others almost to a fault, but he pretty much ignored Masha and me. Around 8:30, we were ready to run the scene from start to finish. When we got about halfway through it, he stopped us. "Masha," he said for the first time that night, "you and Kelsey are supposed to be sisters. Do you think there's a chance you could stop looking at her like that until the scene is over?" Everyone stared. "What?" said Masha. "You heard me," said Josh. "Stop creaming all over Kelsey. I know you two are an item now, but it's called acting." We all gawked at him. Rick sputtered mutely. Angie, the stage manager, stopped taking notes. Masha was speechless. I knew she had wiped the floor with directors better than him. Rather than waiting for that to happen, I spoke up. "Christ, Josh, we all know the woman can act. What is with you? Why the personal comments? I know you are a jealous prick, but it's called directing." "Yeah, really, Josh!" shouted Rick, stepping forward. Josh recovered his senses somewhat, apologized profusely, then sent us all home. He said we'd pick up tomorrow. I picked up my things slowly, using the time to collect myself. I could not decide who, if anyone, had been sexually harassed. On the plus side, I was too upset about what Josh had said to worry about Masha's feelings for me anymore. By the time I had gathered everything, Angie and I were the only two left in the room. She smiled at me and said goodnight as I walked out the door. Masha was waiting for me in the hallway. She seemed calmer than I expected. "You aren't furious?" I asked her, taking her hand. We walked down the hallway towards the door. "No," she said, "mostly confused. Why would he act like that?" "Because he's an asshole," I told her. "Always has been. And because he has a thing for you." "You think?" she said, cocking her head. I nodded. We were on the sidewalk now. "Can I come home with you?" I asked her. "God, yes," she said. We walked to her place, holding hands and talking about Josh's freak out. I was proud to be with her in public like that. It was an interesting feeling for me. I had always been fiercely independent and had never wanted to be anyone's girlfriend before. I was beginning to want to be hers. "So, did you hear all the talk about us today?" I asked her. She laughed. "How could I not? It doesn't bother you, does it?" "No. What bothers me is that you are Masha the Untouchable." "Oh, c'mon, Kelsey," she said. "Don't tell me you believe that. No one is that way. They just say that because I sleep around and they want to but don't have the courage." "Hmm . . ." I said. "Well, will you still sleep with other people? And will you still sleep with me?" "Yes, and yes," she said. "And you don't want me to stop sleeping with other people yet. So don't pretend you do." "I'm not," I said. "I want to sleep with other people, too. We're too young, and it's too soon to be married. Besides I just got out of a relationship where I didn't get to sleep with anybody else," I pouted. "Right," she said, kissing my check as we walked. "That's kind of how I thought you would feel." I was impressed that she'd thought about what I might want. Still, I had reservations. "Prove it," I said to her as we walked into her living room. "Prove that you aren't untouchable." "I thought that much was evident," she said, throwing some logs in the fireplace. I put my stuff down, and she wandered into the kitchen, coming back with some newspaper and a lighter. "Kelsey," she said, "maybe there is some truth to that rumor, and I am a little hard to know. I don't know." She sat on the floor in front of the fireplace and pulled me down beside her. "I do know," she said, as she started lighting bits of paper and poking at the logs, "that it isn't true with you. I'm so attracted to you that I have been on the brink of explosion for seven weeks, three days and 14 hours. From the second we met, I wondered how anyone else could stand to be near you without throwing themselves at you like I do. Really, I think they must all be blind and imbecilic." She laughed. "I want to know you, Kelsey, in the biblical and every other sense. I want to let you know me, and I want to tell you things. It's just hard for me to spend time talking and listening when one look at you turns me into a rabid nymphomaniac." The fire was catching, and I took off my coat and stretched. I looked at her and lost my mind to lust. "In some sense," she continued, "Josh was right about how I was looking at you today. That's why I couldn't be angry with him. It's also how I know you're different. I've always been able to act my way out of anything. But the way I want you has no off switch." I felt a blaze of heat reach my face. "Okay," I said. "Fair enough. Now, lock the door and take off your pants." "Already locked," she said, giving me her slow smile. "Housemates?" "Poker night at Eddie Mont's place. They'll be gone 'til 1 or 2." I smiled and leaned in, tilting her face towards mine. I licked her lips, then kissed her, relishing her quick responsiveness as she moaned. We kissed until I was afraid I would pass out with the intensity. Then I pulled away to lick her ear. She stretched out on the floor and pulled me down next to her. "Why," she said as she pulled my sweater over my head, "do you insist on wearing clothes?" I giggled, then threw my arms around her neck and pulled her to me. She nibbled on my lower lip as I reached under her shirt and took her breast in my hand. I reached around and unhooked her bra, then came back to touch her under it. I passed my finger over her nipple, and she groaned, pushing into my palm. I felt myself grow hot and moist, and I pulled her clothes off frantically. When she was finally naked, I went to work on her stomach, dragging my lips and tongue around her navel and across to her hips. I pulled my mouth up her ribcage and licked the base of her breast, fingering her nipples with both hands. She gasped and arched beneath me, and I pulled my head up, taking her nipple into my mouth and gnawing on it. I had wanted to tease her, but as usual, could not wait. I reached down and touched her lightly, just brushing the back of my hand over her vulva. She groaned and pushed her hips forward, and I plunged my fingers in to meet her. She was dripping, panting and gasping. "Kelsey," she whispered above me. "I want it now. Hard." I pounded her, loving the feel of her clinging to my fingers, hitting her g-spot as hard as I could. I was in ecstasy with her. Finally having license to do this as hard as I wanted was a release for me, and much more satisfying than the treadmill. She was so wet and open that I had no fear of hurting her, and soon she was asking for it harder. She came that way, not wanting me to stop even after her orgasm. I happily kept fucking her, though I eased up a lot. I didn't want her sore tomorrow. I slowly lowered myself so that I could get my tongue on her clit. I teased her with my fingers still inside, licking her labia and passing quickly over the head of her clit. When I began to lick her more avidly, she immediately began to come again. I sucked her clit into my mouth and flicked it with my tongue. She shuddered for a full minute, screaming my name and tightening around my fingers. I loved how easily she orgasmed, and told her this. "With you," she whispered, as I climbed up to kiss her. "Normally, I'm regular." She took her time licking my chin and lips clean and then slid her tongue into my mouth. She kissed me the way she did when she just wanted to kiss me for a while. I was thrilled with that, and we made out for a long time, her hands roaming aimlessly, the fire crackling behind us. Eventually, she pulled away and made me dinner, naked. While we ate I stroked her to orgasm under the table. After dinner, we picked up all of her clothes and went up to her room. The fire had died and Masha didn't want to worry about housemates coming in on us later. When we shut her door, she lit a candle and turned on some music. She turned to me and let her eyes linger over my body. I had put my sweater back on for dinner and began to grow warm under her gaze. "I want you," she said. "Oh?" I was playing coy. "Uh-huh," she stated, walking over to me. "And who told you that you could put that sweater back on?" "But I like it so much when you take it off of me," I cooed. She smiled and took it off again. Then she kissed me and pushed me down to the bed. She crawled over me, undressing me as she went. In seconds, I was gasping because she had skipped all the bases and gotten her fingers inside me. She hovered over me and withdrew her hand, spreading my wet around my labia and grazing my earlobe with her teeth. I pulled her around to kiss me as she began to stroke me slowly like she had that time in the kitchen, but this time I didn't let her go down. I wanted to come from her fingers, with her tongue in my mouth. She got the idea and murmured some protests but eventually relented as I kissed her fiercely. She pulled her index finger across my slit, and I gasped. I kissed her desperately, loving her taste, wanting her to know how incredible was making me feel. We kept kissing as she rubbed me, speeding up just a little. She slid two fingers into me, fucking me as she flicked my clit with her thumb. She continued this until I was breathless, gripping her fingers, coming and moaning into her mouth. After I came she had sex with the rest of me, pulling her tongue across my stomach and along my spine for a long time. It occurred to me that we'd had sex backwards, with the foreplay at the end. Then she began a long, slow massage, cooing at me about how beautiful I was. I fell asleep, satisfied but vaguely aroused, with her hands pressing into my back. I woke up before she did, energized and deliriously happy. She sighed as I disentangled myself from her arms. I froze, not wanting to wake her, then slowly inched out of the bed. I tiptoed to her closet and pulled out a sweater and some of her jeans. Then I took a shower, dressed, and left a note beside her on the bed: "O Queen Sex Goddess— I have a 10:00 I can't miss. Vaguely recall some presentation or other. Must work hard not to think of your fingers and instead remember the topic and gather relevant materials from dorm room. Dinner tonight? I want you to meet my roommate. Call me. -K" The presentation went well. It was a comparison of Ibsen and Strindberg. About halfway through one of my classmates had a question that evoked a heated argument. I struggled to arbitrate while the rest of the class yelled at each other. The professor seemed impressed that I'd spurred such an interesting discussion, and I got to slack on the second half of the thing. I did think of her fingers. Still, I congratulated myself for leaving her at all. Masha Ch. 3 Questions/comments/suggestions appreciated. Thanks. * * * * * After my presentation, I had one more class. Then I grabbed a sandwich and ate it while I walked to the gym. It was unseasonably warm, and I luxuriated in my jacketless state. At the gym I changed and spent some time with the free weights. I tended to ignore them, since the free weight jocks usually either intimidated me or hit on me. A girl has to keep her arms defined, though, and I was overdue. I was pleasantly surprised that the jock who came over to help me was not of the usual variety. He was courteous, not condescending, and helped me change the weights without asking for my phone number. Instead he made cute jokes and talked current events. His name was Dave, and when I was finished with the weights, he joined me at the treadmills. "I thought big guys like you didn't do cardio stuff," I teased. "Nah, we do," he said. "Unless we're stupid, that is. Which I guess most of us are." He chuckled. We started them up and ran in silence. Usually it took a long time for me to get winded, but the warm up I'd done over at the free weights had been pretty thorough. Still, it was fifteen minutes of easy breathing for me, and I could tell Dave was impressed. I smiled at him, and we mentally agreed to compete. I was dripping and panting when my phone rang. I'd brought it to the treadmill and put it on the magazine stand, hoping Masha would call. I saw that it was her and forced myself to let it ring twice before pouncing on it. "Hi," I said. "Hi," she said. "What are you wearing?" I giggled. "Um…tank top, sports bra, shorts." "What color tank top?" she said. "Kind of . . . baby blue," I told her, smiling. "And the shorts, are they teeny-tiny?" she asked hopefully. "Well, they are pretty small," I admitted. "You're out of breath. You're not having sex with someone else already, are you?" "No," I laughed. "On the treadmill." "Mmm. Are you all sweaty?" she wanted to know. "Yeah." She sighed. "Wish I was there. I'd lick you clean." "How?" I asked her. "Well," she paused. "I'd start at your neck, then I'd run across both shoulders and down over your collarbone between your breasts." I stopped running. Dave, looking alarmed, leaned over and jammed the stop button on my treadmill. I stumbled but maintained a standing position. "Then what?" I said, ignoring Dave's look of confusion. "Then I'd drag my tongue along the base of each breast, slowly. Then down to your navel…definitely would spend some time there. God, you have the absolute best stomach, Kelsey." She was panting now, too. "Thanks," I managed. "And then I would curve around to your hip. I'd come back up the side of your rib cage and then around to the front, lifting up over your breast and grazing your nipple." I gasped. "You have to stop," I told her. "What for?" she pouted. "I'm in a public place." "Posh! Such modesty," she complained. I begged her to come to the gym and take me, but she had a class in fifteen minutes. We discussed meeting for dinner at Phoebe's, and decided I would bring Lindsay and she would bring Jane. I gave up on finishing my workout. I was too turned on now to function. I said goodbye to Dave, thanked him for his help, and left. When I got to my dorm room Lindsay wasn't in, so I took a shower and came back to the room to paint my toenails. I was sitting on my bed wearing a towel and waiting for my toes to dry when she came in. I was still completely aroused from Masha's phone sex earlier and knew the minute I saw Lindsay that I'd planned for her entrance to coincide with my state of undress. She looked great. Her red hair was sexily windswept, and she was wearing a suit and carrying a portfolio. She was an advertising major and had obviously just finished a presentation. She saw me and blushed, though she'd seen me in a towel plenty of times before. "Hi," she said, pretending not to look at me. "Hi." I smiled. "Can you come to dinner tonight? I want you to meet Masha and one of her housemates." "Sure, sounds like fun," she said, putting down her portfolio. "How're things going with her? I've missed you around here." "They're going great," I told her. "But I've missed you, too," I emphasized. She was beautiful. Her green eyes flashed my way briefly as she took off her shoes. In them I saw confusion, and not a small amount of fear. The only time we'd had sex was when we first met. She had been the aggressor then. She was my first woman, and I had wanted to explore with her. Then she'd introduced me to Tim. He'd swept me off my feet, and all thoughts of continuing with Lindsay disappeared. It had hurt her then, though we'd managed to remain friends. We'd talked about it once, much later, and I'd apologized for blowing her off. She'd just laughed. "I forgave you long ago, Kelsey, without you even asking," she'd told me. She was unendingly generous that way. Whenever I told her this, she always denied it. "No," she'd say, "it's just that you are unendingly charming." By the time my toes were dry her blazer was unbuttoned, her shoes were off, and she was bending over, examining a run in her stocking. I got up and went to her, trying only a little to keep my towel from falling off. "Lindsay," I whispered. She looked up from her stocking. "What?" she said. I pulled her up and kissed her, my tongue requesting entrance, which she granted, moaning. I pushed my fingers through her hair and felt my excitement surge towards her. Then she broke away. "Kelsey, I've been waiting for you to dump Tim for two years," she said, pushing me away. "But I've never seen you as happy as you seem to be with Masha, and I'm not gonna let you screw this up." "But . . ." I tried. "No," she said firmly. "I've made up my mind." I approached her again, but she reached up to stop me, realizing too late that her hand would land on my skin. It did, and I gasped, my need growing as her fingers pressed into my naked shoulder. She flushed and looked down, removing her hand before I could lean into it. This allowed me to step closer, and I released my towel. It fell on her feet. "Oops," I said ridiculously, hoping she would look up when I spoke. "Kelsey, don't," she said, heading for the door. I scrambled to get in front of it, thinking fast. "She wants us to sleep with other people," I told her. This surprised her, I could tell. She finally looked at me, while I pressed my back into the cold doorknob, knowing it would make my nipples erect. We were on the 17th floor, and there was no other exit. "You're making that up," she said. Her voice was husky. I shook my head. "Even if I were," I told her, "it absolves you of responsibility." She allowed her gaze to drop to my breasts. "So it does," she said. Feeling her eyes on them made my nipples even firmer. Still, she hesitated. "Lindsay, touch me," I whispered, "please." I reached for her, and this time she did not resist. I kissed her again, urgently. Her tongue was soft and warm. I moaned and felt my aching pussy demand satisfaction. She was just beginning to use her hands when I realized I could not wait. I pulled her down on the floor and pressed my cunt onto her knee, straining to ease the pressure where I needed to be touched. She seemed surprised by my aggression but groaned as we kept kissing, feeling my juices through her stocking. I felt her hand cup my right breast and gave her more of my tongue. She kneaded, and my stubborn nipple pushed itself into her palm. She twisted it gently between her thumb and index finger. I reached up her skirt as I spread my legs. I yanked at her panties and pulled her hand desperately to my sloppy, wet slit. She found me with her fingers and shuddered in my arms. My need was so great I was moaning like an animal, assaulting her tongue with my own. Finally, she opened me, pushing her index finger into my hole. I broke away and reached for her as well, ripping the panties off of her. By the time I reached her mound, her finger was pushing in and out of me. "Oh, God," I gasped, amazed that a single finger was having such huge results. I concentrated on her, trying not to come. When I felt her soaked slit, I grunted, fucked her, and then stroked her clit roughly, trying to catch her up. Not three minutes had passed, but we were both already fighting not to come. "Jesus, Kelsey," she panted into my ear, "yes! God, rub me." My clit was swollen and pushing into her fingers as she flicked me wildly. Understanding her closeness, I did the same to her. In mere moments we were coming noisily. Afterwards, she collapsed on top of me, kissing me languorously until I began to feel crushed. "Sorry," she said. She was 5'10" and outweighed me by at least 40 pounds. She got up and pulled me up beside her. "Since you aren't single, I'm not getting cuddly," she said bluntly. "We both know I'm in love with you. No need to exacerbate it." I smiled as gently as I could. "Can we do this again, though?" I asked. "It was so nice." "If I said no, somehow I doubt you'd stop trying." She knew me well. "Are you always in such a freakin' hurry?" she asked. "Sometimes," I admitted. "Well, if we do this again," she warned, "I expect you to realize I have an entire body. Not just one part." She huffed and stalked out to take a shower. "Funny," I said loudly, to the closing door, "you didn't seem to mind at the time." Robin called a few minutes later to tell me that rehearsal was canceled that evening. I thought about this and decided that Josh wanted to use the time to talk to Masha about what had happened the night before. I began to worry that he would get her alone and hit on her, but thought I should trust her to take care of herself. I knew he wouldn't force her into anything, and I didn't think he was her type. He was cute, but I found him pompous, with none of the dry wit that usually goes with it. I started reworking my paper for my moral philosophy class, imagining my professor's thighs to motivate myself to work harder. I was midway through page six by the time Lindsay returned. She asked where we were going for dinner and then started pawing through her closet. I looked at the time and began to do the same. When we arrived at Phoebe's, Masha and Jane were at the bar waiting for us. I introduced Lindsay to Masha. It turned out she'd already met Jane, though this was news to me. They exchanged a sly look. I wondered, but did not ask. Masha kissed me, patted my ass and handed me a lily. I looked around and was glad I hadn't worn black since everyone else did. They all looked great, but I was happy to be the stand out in my little white dress. We were led to the table and sat down. I'd prepared myself for Lindsay to be snippy with Masha, but she surprised me. I was beginning to think I didn't understand women at all. She couldn't take her eyes off Masha, firing questions at her, drawing her out, flirting even. After we ordered, I excused myself and went to the bathroom. Jane came with me. "I'm a little worried about leaving those two alone," I told her. "Don't be silly," she laughed. "In Masha's eyes, it's all about you." While we were washing our hands, I turned to Jane. "You know, she wants us to see other people," I told her, "and I want to—I really do—no one has ever given me that opportunity before. And of course she gets to see others, too. It's only fair, and I'm okay with that." I paused, wondering why I was unloading on Jane. Still, I continued, "I just want to be her favorite." I looked in the mirror and pushed the hair out of my eyes. "Kelsey, you are her favorite," Jane said. She paused, considering. "You know how I met Lindsay?" she asked me. I shook my head, trying not to look like I was dying of curiosity. Jane looked around, then spoke more quietly. "The day Masha met you, she came home and pleaded with me to dish about you," she said. "All I knew was that you were bisexual and lived with an advertising major named Lindsay. That wasn't enough for her, so she sent me to this party at the Red House." The Red House was a sort of fraternity/sorority for artsy types. "She knew a lot of ad majors were going, and she figured that Lindsay might be there. I was supposed to meet Lindsay somehow, get her drunk and pump her for information. I owed Masha a favor," she said, "so I went and put a lot of effort into it. It didn't hurt that Lindsay's so attractive, likes to drink and is fun to talk to. I came back to Masha with a complete report, including what you like in bed." I blushed. "I purposefully excluded any mention of Tim," she winked at me. "Masha can be such a pansy about women with boyfriends—won't go near them. Anyway, point is: do you really think she'd beg me to do all that," Jane said softly, touching my arm, "if you weren't her favorite?" "Guess not," I said. I was blissful as we returned to the table. Masha and Lindsay were still going at it, grinning at each other and leaning over the table to get closer. I sat down, and Masha's eyes met mine. Her smile gained speed as her foot touched my leg under the table. I realized I would have her for as long as I wanted her. After dinner we all went to Jane and Masha's house. Jane put my lily in water for me. Then she started a fire, and Masha brewed coffee while Lindsay and I sat on the couch. "You weren't exaggerating," Lindsay told me discreetly. "Masha's almost as sexy as you are." "Flattery will get you everywhere," I replied, beaming. "I'm not kidding, Kels. You've got to know you're hotter than she is," she said, looking at me quizzically. "If I were, the world would be exploding," I told her, a little silly from the wine. She touched my face. "When people are with you," she said, "they feel like it is." Masha Ch. 4 Lindsay and I drank half a bottle of merlot while Masha and Jane futzed around, making things just so. Fifteen minutes later, the fire was blazing, candles were lighting the room, and my lily stood on the center of the coffee table. We all sat and sipped our wine. I kicked off my shoes and sighed. "It's supposed to snow tonight," I said. Everyone laughed. "What?" I said. "It is." "You never talk about the weather," Lindsay said. "Well, it is. It's starting. Look." I pointed out the window. We all looked. I wanted to cuddle with Masha, but didn't want Jane and Lindsay to feel like third wheels. I fidgeted with my wine glass. "Hey," I said to her, "how did your meeting with Josh go?" "How did you know we were meeting? Spying on me already?" she teased. "No," I told her. "I just figured. Since rehearsal was canceled." She told us it had gone well. Robin had been there, so she hadn't been afraid he would jump her. He had admitted his feelings for her, and vowed to maintain a professional dignity in the future. "See," I said. "Told ya he liked you." She nodded. "You're very perceptive, you know," she told me. "That's right," I said. Jane and Lindsay had started playing Scrabble. Feeling drunk and bold, I announced that I was going to bed, and that I would happily accept visitors. I went upstairs and let myself into Masha's bedroom. I shut the door behind me and began to strip. If no one was coming to visit me, I could get myself off, I decided stubbornly. I was peeling off my stockings when Masha came in. "So, which do you want?" she said. "Me? Or all of us?" "Surprise me?" I said. "Okay," she smiled. "Can I just hold you?" "Wow. That is a surprise." "I missed you today," she said, pouting cutely. I finished undressing and got a t-shirt from her dresser. After she undressed, we crawled under the covers together. I rolled away from her, and she pressed herself into me from behind, sliding her hand along my stomach. I was getting turned on, despite the t-shirt. I tried to hide it. If she wanted to hold me, I wanted to let her without getting all wet and needy. We were both still for several minutes. I tried to wait it out. Surely, I could let her go one night without sex. Eventually she'd fall asleep, and then I'd have no choice. Perhaps I would go to Jane's room, I thought dirtily, getting even hotter. I could smell Masha: some kind of sandal woody fragrance, the wine on her breath, the peppermint soap she used. I tried not to notice the pressure of her fingers on my stomach. I was starting to sweat. Finally, I felt her shift. "Kelsey, I don't think I can do this," I heard her whisper. Then I felt her tongue on the back of my neck. "Mmm," I said. She started kissing the back of my neck and reached under the t-shirt to slide her hand slowly up my ribcage. "I wanted to just hold you," she said. "To prove I wasn't after you for your body. But you're warm and so edible." Her hand came closer to my breast. "I just can't do it." She cupped my breast, and my nipple grew hard in her palm. I tried to roll over and face her, but she wasn't letting me. She pressed herself into my back even harder, reaching under me with her right arm and pulling apart my legs. Her fingers trailed along my spread thighs as her other hand tweaked my nipple. I gasped as she nibbled my neck. I tried again to face her. "Stop," she commanded. "Just let me." Her fingers reached my labia, and I gave up. She teased me, barely brushing my outer lips and then retreating to drag her hand up and down my thighs. I was so wet I knew she could feel it, even though she hadn't reached up that far. I moaned, and she made a beeline for my pussy. When she reached it, she bit into my neck and pushed her finger into my slit. I spread myself as open as I could for her, and pushed my cunt onto her hand. Her thumb found my clit and she rubbed it gently as her finger pulled out of me. I whimpered in protest, but she came back inside with two fingers this time, her thumb still stroking. She fucked me slowly, her thumb dancing on my clit until I came. After my orgasm, she let me roll over. I kissed her into submission, and we made love all night. In the morning I didn't know what day it was. Several weeks into rehearsals, the cast met with the costume designer. I was shocked to see I would be wearing a pink teddy for several scenes, though in all but one I would have a satin robe on over it. The teddy did a better job of accentuating what I had than of covering me. Also, I could see from the design of the robe that it would always be falling open. What concerned me most, however, was the scene in which I'd be without the robe. We hadn't rehearsed it yet. In it, I'd be alone on stage, waking up from a nightmare. From the script, I knew it would be difficult. There was virtually no dialogue, and the stage directions were vague. In about two minutes I had to go from a dead sleep to a crying hysterical mess. I knew that Josh wanted to give me time to figure it out before working on it with me, but I was terrified. I'd put off even looking at it because I didn't know where to start. Now that I saw I'd be almost naked, I was even more reluctant. I tried to argue about the teddy, to no avail. Even Masha sided with the designer. Her name was Sydney, and she was a cute, butchy feminist. We had some friends in common, and she was the last person I'd expect to design a needlessly revealing costume. "Look," Masha said, in Sydney's defense, "it was the 50s. This is what 20-something women slept in." Still, I whined. I glared at Sydney across the table. "Rose is young and vibrant," Josh piped in. "That's the whole point of her—that she escaped from the Holocaust seemingly unscathed. She's romantic. She wants to live. She wants a man. She wants to look like Marilyn Monroe." I sighed and rolled my eyes. I looked at Masha, who was trying not to laugh. "Can't she just wear a nice dress?" I said. "Something with a slit up the side?" "To sleep in?" said Sydney. I looked at her. She gnawed on her pen. "Well, what else did women wear to bed in the 50s?" I pleaded. Sydney pulled her chair around to me and got several sketches out of her portfolio. She sat backwards on it and began to show them to me while the others talked about the rehearsal schedule over Thanksgiving. I realized I was monopolizing the designer, but since no one else had a problem with costumes, I figured it was okay. "When researching the time period," she began patiently, "I found seven basic styles of sleepwear for women." She flipped through the drawings slowly. She was so close her knees were surrounding me. I tried to look at her sketches but was noticing her mussed hair, which was black and short. Her eyes were gray, and she was wearing baggy, olive green cargo pants and a white t-shirt. Her forearms were tanned and muscular. I imagined them getting that way from her drawing for hours, propped on her elbows, outdoors somewhere. When she got to the last drawing, she leaned in, her eyes meeting mine. "I think you'll agree," she said quietly, "that none of these other six is anything Rose would wear." I looked at the pictures. I could hardly think, but knew she was right. All of the other styles were either too old or too masculine. It had to be a teddy. But pink? "Most teddies were pink," Sydney answered before I asked. "White was also an option, but white works horribly on stage. It gets dirty too easily; it makes a glare with the lights; it tends to be transparent." She met my eyes with a lopsided grin. "Plus," she said, "Rose seemed pink to me." I knew defeat when I saw it. I thanked Sydney, pushed her knee aside, and got up. "Hey, Kelsey, we're not done yet," said Robin. "I know," I told her. "I have to pee." Out in the hallway, Sydney found me. I was leaning against the wall, my fingers slowly recovering from the feel of her knee. "They decided to break for fifteen," she said. "Here, try it on." She handed me the teddy. "Sometimes that helps." I looked at her doubtfully. She pushed me into the bathroom, followed me into a stall, and started helping me undress. It occurred to me that the situation was getting intense. Sydney, however, was all business, rushing to get me into the teddy, then tucking and pinning and measuring things. She was a whirr of activity, pinning the material at my bust and ass, making notes in her book, her gray eyes flicking here and there. I was impressed with her ability to put so many pins into the teddy without sticking me. Two minutes later, she pulled me out of the stall and showed me. I had to admit, it was flattering. It was more comfortable than I'd expected, and it didn't reveal as much as I'd feared. I looked at Sydney behind me in the mirror and smiled. "Sydney," I murmured, astounded, "this is really nice. It's not nearly as bad as I'd thought. In fact, it's kind of…classy." "Good," she said, pulling me back into the stall, "glad you like it. Now we have eleven minutes." She got me out of the teddy and was trying to get me dressed again. I felt suddenly grateful to her, for her design and her patience. Plus, of course, she was so hot and butch. I wanted to kiss her, but her mouth was full of pins. I reached up and pulled them out of her mouth, pushing them into the toilet paper roll, one by one. "It's okay," she said, clearly misunderstanding, "I won't swallow them or anything. I do this all the time." "I know," I whispered, standing on my tiptoes to lick her lips. "I'm sure you could do it in your sleep." I kissed her, pushing my hand up into her shirt. She gasped in surprise. I pressed my tongue into her mouth and moaned, happily anticipating the next nine minutes. I pushed my hand up towards her breast and grazed her nipple with my fingers. She shuddered, and I hurried to unbutton her pants. I yanked her shirt off and took off her bra, my mouth closing on a nipple. She was panting as I pushed her pants down and slid my fingers into the elastic of her boxers. I continued to tongue her nipple, and I pressed her into the tile wall as my fingers reached her vulva. It had been less than a minute since I kissed her, and I wouldn't have been disappointed to find her still dry, but she was soaked. As I separated her lips and slowly began to flick her clit, she groaned. "God, you got wet fast," I whispered as I bit softly on her nipple. "No, Kelsey," she said, pulling me up. "I've been wet for you since you showed up this morning." She kissed me, and I slipped inside her, pushing up and forward. I kept kissing her as I flicked her clit more quickly. She began to tremble and pushed her tongue deeper into my mouth. I went inside her again and fucked her once more before coming back out and letting my fingers whip over her clit. I rubbed her avidly, and we both moaned as she came, digging her fingers into my back and kissing me desperately. "Thanks," I whispered, taking her earlobe gently between my lips. I disengaged myself and started putting her back together while she sucked my fingers clean. Then I got dressed, and we kissed once more before returning to the meeting, a mere five minutes late. Masha and I became even closer over the following weeks. We had so much in common it was surprising. We were like sisters one moment, like lovers the next, but mostly we were a dangerous twosome, sharing exploits and plotting schemes. I loved the way she saw things. She was both the most fun loving and the most sensible person I'd ever known. When it came to taking care of me, and of us she was a pro. She remained committed to our mutual non-monogamy, convincing me easily that we needed to grow sexually, especially if we wanted to stay together. At times I was jealous. She had ways of convincing me, though, that there was no need to be. Eventually, I grew secure. She was always honest with me, and always there when I needed her. Plus, I loved having sex with other women, so I could hardly complain. Rehearsals were moving along, though we still had not worked on the nightmare scene, and I was getting nervous. I had done zero work on it by myself, and according to the schedule, I was supposed to rehearse it with Josh and Robin in a week. I knew Josh would expect me to have at the very least thought about it before the rehearsal. Probably he'd want me to actually do it for him, and then he'd want to make adjustments to my approach. The night before the rehearsal, I went to the drama department and holed up in one of the dance studios, perusing the script and trying to figure the scene out. I had no idea what to do, but I went through the motions. I created some semblance of the set using the blocks that were set aside for such things. Then I read the stage directions several times, wondering what the scene was even about. I was in the midst of confusion when I heard a knock. Masha peeked around the door, smiling. "Hey, little girl," she said, "wanna come home with me?" "Not now," I said, attempting to look stern. She pouted and sat down on the block beside me. I immersed myself in the script. After a moment, she pulled it out of my hands and kissed me, her tongue demanding, her fingers pushing into all the openings of my clothes. I pushed her away, suddenly angry. "Masha, do you know what tomorrow is?" I demanded. "Tuesday?" she said lamely. "Well, yes, but it's also the day I've gotta rehearse that goddamn scene," I shouted. "And I have to work on it. Do you understand?" "Oh, no," she said quietly, "I would have no idea about that. Since I clearly have never worked on a scene before." There was a dangerous silence as we glared at each other. "Look," she said, "I'm not an idiot. What do think I'm doing down here at 11:00 on a Monday night? I came down here hoping to find you so I could help you. I would've offered before, but I kept waiting for you to ask." "Well, then why did you get all distracting just now? If you wanted to help me, I mean. Because that doesn't help." I pouted at the floor. "I keep telling you that's the only way I know how to be with you," she said. "I know it's absurd. At this point we should be more than that to each other. And we are—I mean, you are to me. But . . ." she stopped. I sighed impatiently. "But I want you so much that it's hard." She came over and handed me the script. I looked at it blankly. "So," she started, "what is this scene about?" We worked late into the night, my anger turning to shame as I saw her earnestly trying to help me. I had forgotten, in my lust, about her talent and experience. I had forgotten about the professors who raved over her, the freshman girls who wanted to be her. I'd forgotten she'd studied long and hard, in Russia and in London and summers in Minneapolis. Certainly she was no slouch. And under her tutelage, neither was I. By morning I could cry on cue, just thinking about the scene. We had focused on the one word of dialogue I had—"Mama"—and dissected it. Masha had helped me to see that I was not simply remembering my mother, not just missing her, but actually wanting her and expecting her to come. Rose was, after all, waking up at two in the morning. She was groggy and didn't (we decided) even remember her mother was dead. She was actually expecting her to show up. When I thought of it like that, it was easy. The whole thing just fell into place. I did go home with Masha that night. We got in around 3:00, and I made love to her with everything I had. It was time to wake up before we fell asleep, and we were sprawled on top of each other when I let it slip, after 20 minute of thinking it at top volume. "I love you," I whispered, having to say it but hoping she somehow wouldn't hear. She kissed me, smiling into my mouth. "I was wondering when you would figure that out," she said softly. Then she got up and went to take a shower. I could have been devastated, I suppose, that she didn't say it back. I wasn't. Partly because I knew she'd loved me first, whether she said it or not, partly because I couldn't be anything but ecstatic, watching her naked ass walk away. Having nailed the 'Mama, mama' scene, as we all began to call it, I started to enjoy rehearsals. Josh was a reasonable director, and the rest of the cast was a lot of fun. Sydney would occasionally show up when she knew we'd be finishing and offer to drive me back to my dorm. Usually, I'd let her, Masha grinning devilishly at me behind Sydney's back. The nights she did drive me home we always wound up fucking in her car. After our initial bathroom encounter, she seemed intent on proving her butch dominance, and I had to struggle just to touch her. I thrilled to her fingers finding their way into me in the darkness of her car, but I wanted her, too. I wasn't wild about the idea of a woman I could rarely touch. Masha had spoiled me with her openness and her impeccable balance of give and take. The Thanksgiving rehearsals were grueling. Since we had no classes, and our opening was soon, Josh and Robin forced us into fully costumed run-throughs. This was primarily for the technical designers and crew, so there was a lot of stopping and starting. At one point, I stood in the same spot in my pink teddy for almost four hours, while the lighting designer fiddled with various instruments from above. It was for the 'Mama, mama' scene, so the rest of the actors were off somewhere taking a break. I stood and stood and stood. Eventually, even Josh said, "That looks good, Jaye. Consider me satisfied." Still, I heard steps on the catwalks, metal things scraping each other. More adjustments of light ensued. "Guess it's not all about what I think," smiled Josh. "Freakin' perfectionist," I growled, squinting up at the lights. "Shut up, Kelsey," said Robin. "Jaye's doing her job." Her? I'd thought from the name on the list that Jaye was a guy. I shut up, but squirmed with impatience. The lights were glaring at me and changing colors as Jaye replaced the gels. I was hot and disoriented under them. I sweated. I glared blindly where I imagined Jaye might be, taking her sweet time. "Robin," I mewled, "I have to pee." "Always the same excuse," Robin grunted. There was a hushed conversation from above—Jaye and her crew discussing the matter. I crossed my fingers and tried to look wilted. "Let her go," said a male voice from above. "Get someone small to stand in her spot and hold up something pink." Relief surged through me. In moments I was freed by one of the production assistants who put on my pink robe. "Thank you," I mouthed up at the blinding light. I headed to the lobby to join the others. "No way did Jaye have you in there under those lights all that time," said Shelly. I nodded. "Poor baby," said Masha, kissing me on the cheek. "I've heard she eats actors for lunch," said Rick, lifting an eyebrow dramatically. "Yeah, and she's invisible," said Shelly. "Nobody I know has ever seen her." I wondered vaguely what that was about. I only knew three things about lighting designers. They wore all black. Most of them were nocturnal, and they had an almost universal disdain for actors. "Must drink," I said and walked away. I drank two bottles of water, then went to the bathroom and peed. By the time I'd splashed cool water on my face I felt better. I stood up to see Masha behind me in the mirror. "Sweetie, you're all flushed," she cooed. "Did you drink something? It's hot under those 4000 watt monsters." I nodded, then turned around and kissed her, my tongue probing gently. "Mmm," she said, "you taste like water." We giggled, and walked out of the bathroom holding hands. "You know," I said, "I'm getting way too comfortable wandering around the hallways in this pink teddy. Soon, I'll be an exhibitionist." Masha Ch. 4 Masha laughed. "I wouldn't have you any other way," she said. "Yes, you would," I told her, as we went back into the theater. "You'd have me whatever way I wanted you to." "Kelsey, good, you're back!" exclaimed Robin, pushing me onto the stage. "She hates me," I told Masha over my shoulder. I took my place again on stage, and the production assistant left, handing me the robe. "Thanks," I told him. "Not a whole lot of guys would wear that." "No problem," he said, grinning, "I'm just glad I wasn't up there for 4 hours." As it turned out, I was up there for another hour. By the time Jaye finally got the whole thing worked out, it was time to leave. The rest of the cast was pissed they'd waited around for nothing. Robin gave a little pep talk before we were allowed to leave, babbling about how well it had gone. "Freakin' bullshit," I said loudly, while she babbled. Rick elbowed me in the ribs. "Kelsey!" scolded Robin, "Watch your mouth." There was a party Josh had organized for the casts and crews of the shows that were rehearsing over break. Masha had a fitting after rehearsal, so I told her I'd meet her there. I changed out of my teddy and went back to my dorm to take a shower and a nap. When I woke up it was almost midnight, and I threw something on rushed to the party. I arrived, covered with snow, to find the party in full swing. It was at Rick's frat house again, only this time with no frat brothers, since they were all home for the break. The lack of frat brothers turned out to be a good thing, at least for Rick, who was making out with another guy in the living room. I found Masha in the kitchen and mentioned this up to her. "Color me confused," I said, getting a bottle of water from the fridge. "I know," she nodded. We walked back out to the living room. "I really thought he was straight," she said. "In fact, I thought they were both straight." We were standing there, watching Rick's technique like a couple of voyeurs when someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around expecting a mere mortal. Wrong. She was long and lean, wearing big black boots, tight jeans and an even tighter black waffle knit shirt. The cuffs of her sleeves were frayed at the wrists, and the shirt had a few well-placed holes in it. It hit just below her navel, exposing a band of her smooth skin. She had chin-length, straight brown hair and an incredible face. Deep dark eyes, a dusting of freckles, wide cheekbones, perfect nose, amused expression. I nudged Masha, who'd still been watching Rick. She turned around, saw the goddess, and smiled a greeting. It appeared they knew each other. The three of us stood quietly together, me trying not to drool as I noticed ever more phenomenal details about the stranger's body. Her breasts were smallish and perfectly firm, obstinately stretching the shirt forward. Part of me had the sense to wonder why nobody was saying anything. We all stood looking at each other, the music pounding around us. After a while, Masha got around to introducing us. "Kelsey, this is Jaye," she said. I stared blankly. "Lighting designer," she whispered in my ear. "You're kidding," I said, before I could stop myself. Jaye laughed. "So, were you trying to kill me today, or what?" I demanded, deciding to ignore my attraction to her. "Well, actually, no," she said. "I want to apologize. That's why I came over." "Oh," I said brilliantly. "Some of the instruments were giving me difficulty." "Evidently," I said bluntly. "Anyway," she continued, "it's a difficult scene to light, and my initial plan was all wrong. I just wanted to get it right." "Uh-huh," I said. "And I'm sorry you had to stand up there so long. I should've had Robin give you a break sooner." "Damn straight," I said, finally letting her shake my hand. "But I must admit," she said as she released me, "that I enjoyed the view." I blushed, but was still angry with her. "Can I get you a drink?" she asked timidly. I showed her my bottle of water. "I have a drink," I barked. I turned and walked away. Masha was on my heels. "Kelsey, that was rude," she scolded. I looked at my shoes. "It's not really her fault, you know," Masha told me. "Robin knows to give you a break every two hours." It occurred to me this was true. Jaye wasn't supposed to keep track of our breaks; Robin was. Still, I'd been really miserable up there and wanted to be angry with someone. I quickly made the decision to switch my anger to its rightful target—Robin. I was thrilled to stop denying my attraction to Jaye. I'd only been doing it for six minutes, and frankly, I was already exhausted. A few hours later, the party had degraded into a drunken game of spin the bottle. I was still sober, having stuck to water all night. I volunteered to spin first, amused at the third-graderness of it all. I was shooting for Jaye, who'd been neatly avoiding me since I'd stormed off. Naturally, I got Robin. "I'm not kissing her!" I scoffed, knowing everyone was drunk enough not to take offense. Robin did look mildly hurt, and for a moment I was sorry. Then Rick instituted a new rule that seemed to make sense to all of the drunk people. "Since Kelsey won't kiss her," he slurred, "she has to spin again and have sex with the next person she gets." They all cheered, seeming to think this was the ultimate in fairness. So I spun again. Again, I got Robin. "No way," I said, laughing. Then, more thoughtfully, "She's straight, anyway. She doesn't wanna fuck me." "Kelsey," declared Rick, pointing his finger, "you are a cheater at this game!" "Whatever," I said, spinning again. Still no Jaye. I spun and spun, everyone calling me a cheater, shoving me and getting increasingly unruly. Finally, I just passed the bottle to Josh on my left and crawled across the circle. "Bottle, schmottle," I whispered to Jaye, as I cradled her neck with my hand and kissed her. She was surprised, and I could feel the heat of her blush against my face as I slowly introduced my tongue. Her pulse pressed into my fingertips. It took a moment for her to respond, and I enjoyed my time as the aggressor, her mouth opening slowly as she decided to let me in. When I broke away, I smiled into her eyes and scuttled back to my place in the circle. "You like her," Masha quietly observed. "Uh-huh," I said. We looked at each other. "So do I," she said huskily. My palms started to sweat. "Should we have a fisticuffs?" I wondered. "I'd win," Masha said, smiling. "I'm bigger." "Or is the modern way for us to let her choose?" I ventured. "She'd have some trouble with that," she said. "Oh?" I said. She nodded. "I believe," said Masha, "the modern way is to share." I knew I loved her for a reason. "Let's get her out of here," Masha said. She got up, but I stopped her. "No," I said, "let me." She smiled and nodded. I went to Jaye and tucked her hair behind her ear. I leaned in and licked her neck, almost as if by accident. We giggled. Our eyes met, and I guided hers to Masha. "Will you?" I whispered. "Yes," she said. We were all in Jaye's car on the way to her place inside of five minutes, in spite of her being parked three blocks away. I was shaking, not because I'd never done this before, but because I wanted to so badly. Jaye, for some reason, insisted that I drive. No one was drunk, but I was the soberest of the three. Her place was about fifteen minutes away, and she directed me, leaning between the seats to point. It seemed strange to be talking about where to turn, given what we were all feeling. Masha, sitting next to me, was antsy. At the second red light I knew the ride was long, and that she'd been thinking too much. "Jaye," she piped up, "this time it's different." I had a moment to wonder about the other time. Then Masha continued. "This time Kelsey's my priority," she said. Jaye shifted behind me. "Mine, too," she said, almost threateningly. I could feel them glare at each other in the darkness. "Look," I said, a little pissed, "if this is gonna be a taking turns at Kelsey thing, then we can do it one at a time, and one of you can go home." They just sat there. "And that would be a shame," I said, "because right now I could eat you both alive, especially if you're gonna fuck while you're pissed at each other like this." After that, the two of them shut up. Jaye continued to tell me where to go, of course, but I felt the power shift, intoxicatingly, in my direction. By the time we got out of the car I'd taken Jaye's keys and was unlocking her door as if it were my own. Inside, I figured out where things were, put on a cd, dimmed the lights, and opened a bottle of wine. During all of this, Jaye and Masha barely managed to get out of their coats. I wondered briefly at their ineptitude, then handed Jaye the wineglass. She drank, passed it to Masha, who drank and passed it to me. Nobody said anything. Eventually the glass was empty. I refilled it and kissed Masha, losing patience with the niceties. I shoved my hands into the pockets of her pants, yanking her in Jaye's direction while my tongue spiraled deeper into the heat of her mouth. Jaye got the idea, and I felt her palm snaking up my side beneath my shirt. I gasped at the heat of her hand and stopped kissing Masha, who'd started unbuttoning Jaye's fly. I grabbed the back of Jaye's head and kissed her, meeting her tongue with a shudder as someone ripped my shirt. We tumbled to the floor and struggled to undress each other. By the time I saw Masha take Jaye's nipple into her mouth, I needed to be inside someone, so I slid my fingers into Jaye, reaching around her panties which I hadn't had time to remove. She was wet and warm and gasping. I lowered myself over her as I fucked her, licking upwards from her stomach and meeting Masha's tongue at her nipple. I kissed Masha as I fucked Jaye, feeling very much like I wanted to be inside both of them. I kissed Masha into a prone position, still moving my fingers inside Jaye. I yanked clumsily at Masha's pants with my left hand and wished fleetingly to be ambidextrous. I moved in and out of Jaye as I watched Masha take off her pants, for once submitting. When she was naked, she spread beneath me, and I entered her, pushing in and finding myself light-headed. I felt almost reverent as I fucked both of them. I leaned down to drag my tongue over hips and stomachs, losing track of who was who. I was in a blissful oblivion of skin, my fingers surrounded by the planet's greatest invention. I was breathless and afraid to move, for fear that it might stop. But I kept fucking them anyway, and they kept letting me, stroking my neck and kissing each other. Before I had time to fully enjoy my position, Jaye started to come, moaning, her tongue buried in Masha's mouth. Masha stroked her hair as she came. Seconds later Jaye was on top of me, which I didn't want, so I pushed her back. She clambered around, kissing and fighting me over Masha's prone nakedness. We struggled with each other until I slid slowly out of Masha and started to get up. "Back in five," I told them, leaving Jaye to get Masha off. I had to pee—all that water. Wiping was an exercise in futility, and I was reluctant to wash my hands. I savored their wetness as it slid off of me under the water. I looked at my hands and tried to catch my breath. I was afraid but also desperate to go back out there. I wondered wildly how this had happened to me, what wonderful thing I had done to deserve it. I eventually attributed it to Masha. She was not a person, but a force. She taught people things without even trying. When she believed in something, she didn't so much believe it, as she became it. It made it seem impossible to believe anything else. The way she pushed herself into the world, shoving aside the parts that didn't make sense to her without a second thought was revolutionary and transcendent. Walking back into the living room I saw that Jaye had ended up underneath Masha, not surprisingly. For some reason I didn't feel like joining them, so I went into the dining room. I got myself a glass of wine and sat at the table, leafing through the newspaper I found there. The news seemed different to me, less alarming, and somehow easier to classify. After a while, I looked up and saw Masha standing in the doorway, wrapped up in a sheet. I got up and walked over to her. "Moving to the bedroom?" I asked gently, plucking at the sheet. She shook her head. "Jaye's lighting candles in the bathroom," she informed me, excitedly. "We're all going to take a shower." "Are you real?" I asked, pushing the hair out of her eyes. She smiled. We stood there and looked at each other stupidly. "I love you," she said. "What, now you tell me?" I teased. She nodded and, strangely, blushed. "Because you know I'm just about to go in there and fuck that woman again," I threatened. "I know," she said. We ambled to the bathroom, hand in hand.