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New Year’s Surprise

By: Lothario the Great



Dumped on New Year's Eve. Brutal. Humiliating. And also... not so bad. 

Ben parked in the driveway of his crappy little college house, a three-bedroom hovel he shared with two miscreants who wouldn't be invited back for their senior years if they weren't careful. Usually he had to fight for the driveway spot, but both roomies were out-of-town for the Christmas break. Oddly, he was kinda hoping one of them would be here when he arrived. Would've been nice to talk to someone... 

He turned the car off, and with it the CD player. "Peaceful Easy Feeling" by The Eagles had been playing, "their" song, selected by Wendy, of course. Wendy commanded his car's CD selection every single trip. "Fucking Eagles," he muttered to himself, as he pulled his wallet from his back pocket. He took out the picture she forced him to pose for, at that cheesy place at the mall, Glamour Memories or some shit. He looked like a dancer in a Madonna video, and she looked like, well, like Wendy. She was beautiful.

Ben walked to the house, unlocked the door and stepped over the small pile of mail, pushed through the slot in the door. He plopped down in the recliner with the cracked leather and intended to watch some TV, to get his mind off Wendy. Just as he aimed the remote at the television, he saw a paper grocery sack on the floor, just in front of the hallway. He went to see what was in it. 

One of the guys, apparently, had forgotten to take his loot with him. Two bottles of pop, raided from the fridge, both with Ben's initials on the lids. A roll of cookie dough, also Ben's, and a box of spaghetti noodles, theirs not his. Plus about seven VHS tapes. 

The tape at the top of the stack caught his eye -- "Nikki," written in black marker on a plain white label. It was porn, and not just any porn. It was Ben's porn. 

"Charles, you cocksucker," Ben muttered under his breath. That rat bastard had intended to "borrow" Ben's porn for his road trip, and probably got away with a few tapes in the grocery sacks he didn't forget. But hold on a sec. Charles, that libidinous sex pervert, had left for his parent's house on Saturday. This was Friday of the following week, and Ben had been in and out of the house dozens of times since then. 

The pop bottles were cold to the touch. Someone set that bag there very recently. 

A sound from down the hall, something knocked over or knocked against. Who the hell could be in the house? Ben immediately predicted he'd find Charles back early from his vacation. He walked down the hall and looked in Charles' room. No one there. But the door to Ben's room was closed. 

"Damn it," Ben said as he burst into his own room, expecting to find Charles, or maybe Carl, jerking off on his bed. 

Instead, he found a girl standing there, who screamed at the top of her lungs when Ben startled her. She'd been holding a stack of VHS tapes—Ben's porn—and they flew across the room when she screamed, hitting the wall with a clatter. She saw Ben, said, "Jesus," leaned against the wall, pressed her hands to her racing heart, said "Jesus" again. 

"Tamara?" Ben said. 

"Uh, hey," Tamara said. She almost seemed to be playing it cool, the way Ben would if he'd just gotten caught doing something wrong. That certainly didn't seem like Tamara. She was always so above-board. 

"Hello," Ben said, unable to think of anything else.

"I should go," Tamara said. Then, nothing. Neither of them moved.

"I guess I have to ask..." Ben started. Then he noticed that a porn video was actually playing on the TV in his room, with the sound down. "Are you stealing my..." He couldn't say the word "porn." Blood pounded red in his cheeks. 

Tamara's cheeks were red, too. "Oh my god," she said, unable to look at Ben. "Can I just leave now? God, oh my god." 

Ben laughed without meaning to. Because the laughter surprised him, he tried to suppress it, but then he snorted, and that made him laugh harder. Tamara laughed, too, and soon they were going at it hard, the way only close friends can. After a few seconds, they were holding their sides in pain. Tamara, doubled over with one hand on the bed, pleaded through tears, "Stop, please stop." 

"You stop," Ben said, which made him laugh harder. 

"I can't!" Tamara yelled. 

They found themselves sitting next to one another on the edge of the bed, shaking with after-giggles, still unable to look at one another. Finally, mercifully, they sat breathing way too hard, still coughing around the occasional chuckle. 

Tamara reached out and turned off the TV, banishing the image of two hardcore lovers. "I'm so embarrassed," she said, her hand pressed to her mouth.

"I don't see why," Ben said. "It's my porn you're stealing." 

They both burst into laughter again. When Tamara leaned against Ben's arm, struggling to gain her composure, he began to know they'd get through this, at least short-term, without any lingering ill-effects on their friendship. 

Not that they were friends in the strictest sense of the word. Tamara was Benjamin's sister's roommate. His sister, Beverly, also his twin, had been parading Tamara around Ben for the past twelve or thirteen years, and in a contest to see who most closely fit the bill for his third sibling, Tamara would have won hands down. Same age, same friends, same classes in school, same parties -- as kids they had all three been very close, unless the girls were ganging up on Ben, or Ben and Bev were sharing a "twin moment" which Tam couldn't quite grasp. Close moments between Ben and Tam were less frequent, but they did occur. Now Tam and Bev shared an apartment, as well as, obviously, a key to Ben's house and the knowledge that he kept a porn stash in his room. 

"You're hoping I won't ask," Ben said. 

"Do you even need to??" 

"Uh, yeah!"

"Well, duh, Ben. I'm stealing your porn." 

"What for?" 

Tamara rolled her eyes. She stood, putting distance between them. "What do you think it's for?" 

Ben blinked. "I know what I use it for." A looooong silence. "I guess I just never thought of you as..." Another silence. "... someone who... liked to..."

Tamara fell back against the wall, then slid into a puddle on the floor. "Oh my GOD." 

"I'm more curious," Ben said, changing the subject, "how you know I have this stuff." 

Tamara blew out some air, regaining composure. "Hell, Bev and I knew you watched porn back in junior high." 

"JUNIOR HIGH? Oh... my... I... want to die... until I am dead." 

The girl on the floor chuckled. "Benjamin, buddy, wake up. I'm not taking it so I can rat you out. I mean... we've also been... you know... since junior high." 

"Ummmmmmmmm..." Ben had no words, what with the questions and images flooding his mind. What was Tamara trying to tell him? That she and Beverly had... well... WHAT was she trying to tell him?

Tamara said, "I think I'm gonna throw up." She really looked like she might. 

"Why?" 

"This is just so embarrassing."

"For you or for me?"

"For both of us." 

Finally, Ben found a lifeline he could follow back to reality. "Well look, Tamara, if that's all that's bothering you, I mean... I can keep a secret if you can." 

Tamara chewed the tip of a fingernail. "It's a start."

"And also..." Ben searched for just the right words. "I mean, we can either both be embarrassed about this, or we can both decide NOT to be embarrassed, and either way we'll be on equal ground, since no one knows this ever happened anyway." 

The girl took another deep breath. "Keep talking." 

"Except..." 

"Except what?" 

"Except I know you tell Beverly everything. EV. Ree. Thing." 

Tamara shrugged. "I don't have to. There's a first time for everything." 

Ben laughed. "Oh ho ho. So you're telling me, that one day next month, you won't confess you came to steal these tapes, just so you and Bev could have a good laugh about it?" 

"I told you already," Tamara said with a mysterious grin. "Bev knows about your tapes." 

Ben's stomach sank back down. "Oh yeah. Shit." 

"Hey, don't worry about it. It's okay, really. Look, she's ALWAYS known, and she never said anything, to your parents or to anyone. She didn't even mention it to you because she didn't want to hurt you." 

Then Ben remembered what he had been about to ask. "But you guys didn't just keep it a secret. You... you watched it." 

Tamara pursed her lips. "Yeah." 

"Together?" 

"Yeeeee-ah." She studied her hands. 

"And now you're... borrowing it... to use it. Alone."

"Rrrrrright." 

"So..." Ben was just so confused. "Did you two ever... use it... together?" 

Dead silence, long and thick. Just a lot of damn silence. Sometimes their eyes met, sometimes they looked away. At last Tamara said, "Let's go in the living room. I need a drink." 

Ben followed Tamara down the hall, through the living room and into the kitchen. Tamara opened the fridge and asked, "Didn't you have Diet Coke in here?" 

"You were about to steal that too, remember?"

"Oh yeah," Tamara said. She went back for the pop, brought it to the kitchen and unapologetically poured herself a glass. "Short on cash this week. I was going to pay you back for the pop." 

"I know. It's cool. But I was pissed when I thought it was Charles taking it."

"Yeah, that's like him. Oh hell, I bet you thought I was Charles in your room." 

"Yeah, I did."

"Eww." 

"Exactly." 

They leaned against the cabinets in the tiny kitchen, facing one another. Tamara asked, "So what the fuck are you doing here? I thought you left Saturday with Wendy. For Christmas and New Year's?" 

"Yeah, about that. Wendy changed her mind about having me there for Christmas."

"What? But her parents bought you the plane ticket." 

"Yeah, and she made them eat it. I didn't have a way to get back to Maine, so I called on the phone and listened as Mom and Dad opened my presents for me. Beverly called from Tony's and did the same thing with her presents. Apparently she hasn't gotten dumped yet." 

"Dumped yet? Is Tony going to dump her?" 

"No, but Wendy dumped me." 

"NO!" 

"Afraid so." 

"When she took back your plane ticket?" 

"No, this morning. Via text message." 

"NOOO! That little bitch." 

Ben had to laugh. "You never liked her." 

"What was to like?"

It was Ben's turn to talk, and what he said next surprised him. "Where to begin." 

Tamara sipped her pop and didn't speak. She had always been a good listener, and a good friend to Ben, especially now that they were approaching the drinking age. Suddenly, like a ray of light through gray clouds, Ben was grateful for Tamara being there, no matter how it happened. Beverly had been the first person he called when Wendy committed the crime, and when he couldn't reach her, he didn't know where else to turn. Now, talking to Tamara, the answer seemed so obvious. 

The words fell from Ben's mouth. "She was a good cook, and a great kisser, and she never complained when I tried to go to second base. She screamed when she saw a turtle in the highway one time, and made me stop, get out of the car and carry it to the shoulder. She always asked for a burger instead of an expensive restaurant, even on Valentine's Day. She smelled nice, and her voice wasn't annoying, and she really seemed to like me." 

"Seemed to," Tamara said.

Ben took a swig from the pop bottle. "Her voice may not have been annoying, but her perfume burned my eyes. She sure liked turtles more than the other girls in her sorority, and I'm fairly certain she would have demanded I speed up, not slow down, if she saw one crossing the street. Sometimes, she just made it harder than it had to be. Arguments lasted too long. Grudges, too."

"Still... New Year's Eve." 

"Goddamn right. Of all the days. Here, read this." Ben pulled out his cell phone and called up the message Wendy had sent:

"BEN. No easy way 2 say this -- its all gone wrong... i want to break up. Forgive me, i lov u. DON'T CALL. Goodby."

Tamara shook her head. "Look at this spelling. Sorority girls." 

"Don't be so hard on sororities. Wendy was a bad writer all on her own. That's how we met, in a study group. I corrected her essays with a red pen. Maybe that's why she kept me around." 

"I'm sorry, Ben." 

Ben looked up suddenly. "Hey, aren't you supposed to be with your boyfriend, too? Where's he from, Georgia, Alabama..." 

"Tennessee. Damn, boy, that girl really did pull you out of society for a while, didn't she? I broke up with him, like, two weeks ago." 

"Really? That's too bad. I liked him." 

"Why's that?" 

"He just looked like he treated you nice." 

"He did, that's true. Actually, he treated a lot of girls nice." 

"Oooooh. That sucks." 

"Yep." She held up her glass. Ben toasted her drink with his pop bottle, and they both put a swallow down the hatch. "My question is this," Tamara said. "Does Wendy now not have anyone to kiss at midnight? And if she does, how the hell does that work? Did she act like there was someone else beforehand?" 

"Believe me, I'd love to know. We spent less and less time together the past week, but does that mean there's another guy? Honestly, I have no idea, none at all. That almost hurts worse than getting dumped." 

Tamara pushed her curly brown hair out of her eyes. "For me, the question was why. Why aren't I good enough? Why choose someone over me? Forget about the boy, screw him anyway. If there's a part of me that wants him back, it's the part that wants to prove I could pull it off. I'd teach him a lesson, you know?" Another drink of Diet Coke. "Bullshit. We'll never speak again, not if I can help it. But I'd just like to know. Two months wasted." 

"Six for me." 

Tamara shook her head again. "That bitch." 

"So," Ben said.

"So," Tamara said. 

"I guess your plan was to re-stock my pantry and my porn drawer before I got back next week." 

Tamara looked away. "We're back to that, are we?" 

Ben chuckled. "It's just, you think you know a person." 

Their eyes met. "You know me," Tamara said. 

Ben nodded. "I do." 

"I mean, seriously." Tamara spoke as she walked back to the living room, with Ben following. "You guys are twins, for christ's sake. Don't tell me you didn't know your sister played with herself." 

At first Ben thought about dragging out some tired chestnut about how he was uncomfortable talking so frankly about sex, especially with Tamara, especially about Beverly. But the truth was, he had seen far too much of the world, from under the covers, from the tapes in his room, to have any real shame left about the subject. He sat in the recliner as Tamara found a spot on the smaller of two threadbare sofas. 

"Of course I knew," Ben said matter-of-factly. "We talked about it sometimes." 

"But all you did was talk." 

"Wow," Ben said, looking at the ceiling. "Just what do you think went on?" 

"I know what went on. Nothing. We talked about everything. We still do." 

"So why did you ask?" 

"I guess, it just wouldn't have surprised me, is all, if you two felt safe enough one time to, you know, show and tell." 

"Fair enough. But no, that never happened. Why, are you trying to tell me something?" 

"Something like what?" 

"Just come out and said it, Tamara. Did you and Beverly ever... holy shit, I don't even know where to begin." 

"You mean, are we lesbian lovers?" 

Ben couldn't help laughing nervously. "I don't know what I'm gonna do if the answer is yes." 

Tamara pointed in the air, like a college professor preparing to lecture. "Let me just say this right off the bat: It's different for girls. Don't tell me you don't know what I'm talking about."

If Ben had learned anything from watching more than a decade of hardcore porn, it was that girls more naturally fell into the rhythms of homosexuality than boys did, and they didn't always come out the other side wearing the "lesbian" or "bisexual" labels. Maybe things worked that way 50 years ago, but this was the 21st Century. People just got exposed to so much. Further complicating the matter was the fact that some lesbians, a few Ben knew personally, still sometimes slept with boys. But straight boys never "experimented," not ever, not unless they were stranded on a desert island... for at least twenty years. 

"I'll buy that," Ben said, his brief response summing up all that he knew. 

"So... let's say... hypothetically... that something did happen between me and your sister... one or more times."

"Hypothetically." 

"Even so, it's something we've definitely grown out of, and even at the time it was a little confusing, but nothing to be ashamed of." 

"Fair enough. I'm not judging anyway."

"Okay. Good." 

"It's different for girls."

"Exactly." 

"But I don't need the details." 

"Oh GOD, I wasn't going to anyway—"

"Just making sure." 

"Right. I mean, it was just between us. It was private. But while we're on the subject, you should know, it was partly your fault." 

"MY fault? How the hell do you get that?" 

Tamara gasped indignantly. "Come on, Ben. Where do you think we learned about sex in the first place?"

"From me?" 

"No, you dolt! From the tapes in your closet. Half of every tape was lesbian and group sex. It was just a matter of time until we tried some stuff for ourselves." 

Like a lightning bolt, Ben remembered one very important detail about his junior high porn collection. "Oh no." 

"I thought you weren't going to judge." 

"No, no, oh god no." 

Tamara realized Ben was changing the subject. "What?"

"You said... since junior high?"

"Yessir. Right from the start. She knew when you bought your first one. From Desmond Coolidge, I might add. He was one weird kid." 

"So you saw... the one tape..." 

Tamara knew instantly where he was going, and her blushing cheeks were accompanied by a wide, toothy smile. "Oh yeah. THAT." 

A strange, paradoxical feeling washed over Ben, revulsion mixed with the unmistakable stirrings of desire deep in his crotch. "You AND Bev? You watched that together?" 

"Oh no, not that one. I mean, she watched it, but when I told her I wanted to... do something with it, she left the room. That tape was all for me." 

Another profound silence filled the space between them. In a weird way, everything that had happened since Ben stepped through the door had been leading to this moment. There sat Tamara, twenty-years-old and majoring in applied chemistry, wearing the same jeans and sweater she'd worn since adolescence but wearing it in a much more mature way, looking across the room at the boy she had grown up with, now also a man, sharing a conversation about a decidedly adult subject that had the unexpected effect of transporting them both back in time to when they were more naïve and innocent, relatively speaking. And now, in the context of the time warp, Benjamin was learning for the first time that not only had Tamara been even more sexually aware than he had been, not only had she known everything about his own masturbation practices, but she had even seen the tape he made of himself, a three-hour performance piece starring himself, naked and cumming all throughout his childhood home, every part of him laid bare for the camera-and-tripod to record, sometimes with baby oil. 

Now, whether they liked it or not, the truth had come out, and they shared a new connection that would last a lifetime. The depth of the situation was immense, and the psychology major in Ben stared fascinated into the depth. In one fell swoop, Benjamin and Tamara found themselves bound closer than either could ever imagine possible, since Benjamin never knew Tamara's insights, and Tamara never intended to share what she knew. 

"I don't know how I feel about that." Ben could sense his features hardening. He didn't mean to be angry with Tamara, but a violation had occurred, and it had been perpetual. 


New Year’s Surprise



Tamara finally acted as though she knew what she had done was wrong. Her smile faded. "It's like I said. We never meant to hurt you." 

"You could have told me."

"Told you what? Told you why? We had secrets of our own."

"But you knew all mine." 

"I doubt that." Tamara set her glass on the worn-out coffee table. "Look, I'm sorry. Beverly and I both are. I..." The girl swallowed hard. "I guess I have to confess... we were afraid if we told you we knew about your stash, you wouldn't let us see it anymore." 

Ben had to think about that one. "That's not true," he said, testing the waters. 

"Don't be so sure. It's easy to know what to do now, ten years later. At the time, we were all just kids. I mean, you dropped live firecrackers down my dress!" 

Ben laughed, embarrassed. "I thought you forgave me for that." 

"If they hadn't fallen out the bottom, I wouldn't have. But I did, and I do. We are what we are now, Ben. We're best friends." 

The words filled Ben like warm honey. "You and me?" 

Tamara shrugged. "I think so. I always have. The Three Musketeers, remember?" 

"Yeah," Ben nodded. "And okay, maybe you're right, I would have just thrown all those tapes away right then. But it doesn't seem fair. You guys were, I dunno, having fun, and I wasn't a part of that." 

"Oh really? And how would that have worked?" 

Ben had to think on that one, too. Ben and Tam, that was easy to envision, but Ben and Bev? Or all three of them? Even with a hands-off rule, it just didn't make sense, and honestly, it would have turned Ben and Tam's friendship into something too adult too fast, even as it started to break down what Tam and Bev shared innocently. They had all been as close as possible, or at least as close as they could get and still be able to make sense according to their own gender and sibling rules. It didn't take Ben long to realize the girls had made the right decision. 

"So you're right," Ben admitted. "But it's still not fair." 

"Okay, I agree," Tamara said. "What do we do to fix it?" 

Ben had to smile, not knowing if Tamara was serious or not, not knowing if he wanted her to be. "Maybe the past is the past," he said, not really knowing what it meant.

"That's true," Tamara said. 

Ben stood, shaking his head, trying to get the blood flowing to his brain again. "Let's go grab some lunch." 

"That sounds awesome," Tamara said, "but like I said, I'm broke. My loan check doesn't arrive for another week." 

"It's on me. I'm not done talking yet." 

"Yeah, me neither. Though I don't know what more you want to hear about... all that." 

"Actually, I wanted to get some more off my chest about Wendy." 

"Oh, right." 

"It's still pretty tender. Do you mind?"

"Oh god, not at all. I completely understand. Just don't expect me to say a single nice thing about her." 

"Why not? She was nice to you." 

Tamara just shook her head and laughed. "You didn't see how catty she was to me that first time we met?" 

Ben scratched his head. "It's different for girls..." 

They went out to Ben's car, and for the first time he noticed Tamara's black Camero parked on the curb, the same car she'd been driving since her sweet sixteen, that is, for four years. The plan was to leave it there while they ate. 

Ben asked, "What you in the mood for? Tacos?"

"Ooh, yeah. Let's go to Pedro's. They have fish tacos." 

"Fish? That's nasty, Tam. Beef tacos only." 

"What about chicken tacos?" 

"We could always get porn tacos." 

"Oh fuck, not this again." 

"Sorry. It's foremost in my thoughts."

Tamara buckled her seatbelt. "Maybe we've got time for porn-chiladas." 

Ben laughed. "A porn-perroni pizza." 

"Maybe a few porn dogs." 

That did it. They fell into a new fit of laughter, so loud in the car it hurt. As they wound down, Tamara pushed her fingers against her eyeballs. "Look, come on. Do me a favor, okay, or this lunch is just not going to work. No more talk about pornography. None. I'm still pretty embarrassed about the whole thing." 

Ben still hadn't started the car. The weather outside was hardly what a Northerner like himself would call cold—south California barely had a winter at all, relatively speaking—but there was enough of a chill in the car to be noticed. There had to be a reason for him not to turn on the engine, and that reason was the unfinished business about the almost-stolen tapes and what they meant. He wouldn't be able to move on without at least a moment of closure. 

He said, "I guess I'm embarrassed, too. I don't really want to talk about it, either, but I'm just so nervous I can't help it. Look, it's not the same for you. You've been... in the KNOW for so long. Maybe you don't know this, but until about an hour ago, I didn't even know girls—that is, girls who weren't getting paid to get filmed—really even though about, like, masturbation. It was a distant concept before, and now, BOOM, it's hitting close to home."

Tamara played with a strand of her hair. "But... are you thinking about... about ME... doing it? That's the embarrassing part." 

"So what if I am? You've SEEN ME DO IT!"

Tamara slapped his arm. "Oh come on, Ben. You were, like, twelve. So was I. It wasn't weird or wrong or dirty. It was fun, and kinda sweet." 

"Not for me. I always had to hide it. I'm sure other boys had circle jerks during Scouting trips or whatever, but I didn't know anything about that until, you know, I got to college. I was just alone, and now I find out, I didn't have to be. Or... no, I guess, I couldn't have been a part of what you and Bev had. Or if you invited me, I would have said no." 

"Yeah, I get it. There was no way it could have happened except the way it did." 

"And I never would have known except for today." 

"Can I say one thing?"

"Yeah." 

Tamara smiled. "I'm not sorry you found out." 

The sense of relief Ben had been waiting for blossomed like a fragrance. He hadn't known what it would take to put him and Tamara back in the comfort zone, but she had figured it out. Now all he had to do to keep them there was set the subject aside for a while, which he was happy to do.

"Fish tacos, huh?" 

"Come on. You'll love 'em." 

"Only in California."

The conversation on the way to Pedro's mostly revolved around Wendy, with Tamara continuing the "What-A-Bitch" line of commentary and Ben countering with "She-Wasn't-So-Bad," mostly in order to justify staying by her side for so long. Then suddenly, the new Fall Out Boy song came on the radio, and Tamara started moving her head to the beat. Ben turned the radio up, and they both sang to the vulgar chorus when it arrived. Music was the passion shared between the three kids, a passion that never needed explaining or dissecting. Ben and Bev, close twins by any definition, had always been very comfortable singing and dancing together, at every age and during any car ride, and Tamara had easily fit into that groove. 

And as Ben watched the girl dancing from the shoulders up, singing with abandon, sharing the moment with him, he wondered if today would be the day he finally found the guts to profess his undying love for her. She was the love of his life, there could be no denying it, but for one reason or another—she was his sister's friend, she was more of a sibling to him than a "real girl," she always had eyes for someone else—he had never made a move. Maybe today it all changed. Maybe not. He just needed to keep his main goal for the day in mind: Don't scare Tamara off. She was, categorically, his best friend after Beverly, and he couldn't lose that at any cost. If anything, he was addicted to merely looking at her. Wendy had been beautiful, but Tamara was pretty, the pinnacle of pretty, the literal and figurative girl next door. As the music played on, he realized with a touch of sadness it had been about three years since he had even admitted to himself he had these feelings, and as they drudged up all the old feelings, the good, the bad and the complicated, he remembered why he'd repressed the whole thing. But one feeling he'd never been able to repress, one feeling he focused on even now and that he'd carry with him for the rest of his life: God, she's cute. Used to be crush-cute, then it was sexy-cute. Now, she was perfect-cute. And he wanted her, he really did. 

He ordered the beef tacos but tried one of Tamara's fish and liked it, and they ended up splitting their orders with each other. The music-and-movies discussion continued throughout the meal, with one person talking while the other chewed, that old familiar rhythm formed over the years. Virtually every time before, this same discussion topic had been a Ben-Bev-Tam project; once again, moments with just Benjamin and Tamara had been rare. But even so, Ben had no trouble understanding why they were so comfortable with just the two of them. She'd been a part of his life for so long. 

Tamara refilled their drink cups, and they stayed a while talking in the booth. She said, "This town is so dead during the breaks." 

"Typical college town in the desert. Everyone's either skiing or sunbathing." 

"Except us." 

Ben nodded. "Except us."

"I hope Gil's freezing his ass off in Tennessee." 

"That's right, Gil was his name. I knew there was something fishy about him."

"Ha ha." 

Ben held up a wadded fish taco wrapper with a sense of ceremony. "We bid farewell to Gil, that ignoble cad, and eat fish tacos in his honor. May he suffer from herpes."

Tamara quickly added, "But we don't want him to have caught it until AFTER he left us." 

"Hear hear." Ben dropped the wrapper. 

The girl leaned her elbow on the table and supported her chin. "Still... I miss him." 

"Yeah, I know the feeling." 

"Not the fake sincerity or the flowers or anything. That was all just to get me in bed." 

"So what do you miss?" 

Tamara smiled shyly. "I miss being in his bed." 

"A-ha."

She winced. "Is that too weird to talk about?" 

Ben felt a thrill at the direction the discussion was going, not purely sexual (though there was that) but just that he and Tam were opening up to each other in a new way. Also, it was one of the bases he would have covered with Beverly if he'd been able to discuss the break-up with her, so it was nice to have the topic on the table now. He said, "Let's agree that our original promise still stands—everything that happens today is a secret shared. Nothing's off limits." 

Tamara nodded with an air of pomp. "Done." 

"So you and Gil were... active?"

Tamara drew in a breath, held it, blew it out noisily. "Well, I think you know now, I like sex. And also, I think you understand the need. We're both just wired that way."

"All three of us." 

"Precisely." 

"I mean, Bev and I weren't shy about sharing the details. About our own sex lives, not about yours. And of course, she never told me about you and her."

"That sort of surprises me, but also not." 

"I follow. Anyway, we both started dating at age 15, and we were both horny as hell. There was a lot to discuss."

"Bev told me you lost your virginity with your first girlfriend."

"Ah, Henrietta, the cheerleader." Ben closed his eyes and reminisced. "I think she got an earlier start than I did." He looked at Tamara again. "And I heard you gave yours up with Pete Ashton. You were 15, too, right?"

Tamara smiled. "I still think about Pete all the time. That's how it goes." 

"But it's not true." 

"What's not true?" 

"You didn't give it up to Pete."

"I didn't?"

"No. You gave it up to Beverly." 

Tamara set her drink cup down. "Oh." She stammered. "Well, I guess we didn't see it that way." 

"You didn't?" 

"We were just having fun, you know? We weren't in love, we were best friends." 

"So you aren't—forgive me for being blunt—you don't consider yourselves bisexual?" 

"No, I guess not. See, if you'd asked us, we'd have said we were only playing around, just with each other instead of with dolls or clothes. More importantly, neither of us like girls now, and we don't see each other that way anymore." 

"When was the last time you two did something together?" 

Tamara made a face as though trying to recall the facts of the case. Ben was glad to see the embarrassment had almost vanished from the situation. She said, "Truthfully, the last time we touched like that was senior year of high school."

"Does that mean there's been something since then that didn't involve touching?" 

Tamara held her hands open, a helpless gesture. "I mean, yeah, we're still pretty open about masturbation." She laughed dryly. "I can't believe I'm telling you about this stuff." 

"Don't stop now." 

"Well, you remember that movie 'The Notebook?'"

"Hell yes. That's one sexy movie." 

"Bev and I watched it, and when it got to the part where it's raining and they get naked in a hurry, we both just looked at each other and agreed it would be okay. You know what I mean."

"So you two..."

Tamara nodded. "Got naked and enjoyed that scene. Most natural thing in the world." 

Ben shook his head. "See..." The idea formed, but the words came slowly. "See, that's what I was missing growing up. I wouldn't have minded having a buddy there to share it with. I would even have settled for Beverly, you know? I hope that's not too weird." 

"Not at all. I know exactly what you mean." 

"But she had you. She didn't need me for that. I dunno, I think it comes from watching porn at such an early age."

Tamara reacted enthusiastically to this point. "I know exactly what you mean. It's like, as a kid, sex is this big mystery that no one ever talks about, and then all of a sudden, you get your hands on this tape, and two people are doing EVERYTHING, and it shows EVERYTHING, and you can watch it over and over again, and after that, no one can tell you that sex isn't this really open, un-embarrassing thing." 

"Right! With multiple people, and other people watching, and just laughing and talking about it like it's nothing." 

"Yeah." Tamara took a drink through the straw. "Except it's not like that."

Ben smiled. "Not exactly, no."

"Relationships are tough." 

"Mm-hmm." 

"And sex complicates things." 

"Yup." 

"But they don't TELL you that on the tapes." 

"No, it's like, you think sex is just another fun thing to do, like going to the movies." Ben made a face. "But maybe, for you and me, it is. Right? Or is that why you stopped?"

"Oh, I haven't stopped. I just stopped with Bev. She made it really safe and fun, and when I started making it with boys, there wasn't any danger involved, except the good kind of danger." 

"Yeah, I agree. I mean, everyone talks about how you have to be careful with sex, and I guess I can see how I might hurt a certain kind of girl with my attitude toward it. But for me, it's never been something that hurt me. It's only been fun." 

"Did Wendy enjoy sex?" 

Ben blew a raspberry. "My god, Wendy. She wanted to save it for marriage." 

"No way!" 

"Well, it wasn't so bad. I mean, in a way, it felt like she was my first real girlfriend, you know? Because without the sex, we had to find other ways to communicate. We kissed a lot, and fooled around some, but I really thought it was more serious between us than... well, apparently, than she did." 

"Then looking back on it, you two didn't communicate that well at all." 

Ben scratched his head. "I guess, maybe it's because I communicate through sex. See, all the girls I dated before Wendy, there was always sex involved, and we felt much closer, but it was a false kind of closeness. This is so hard to figure out, even now." 

"No, I get what you're saying. It's the same for the boys I've known. They all came across like they wanted sex as much as, or more than, I did, but deep down inside, they were all pretty innocent, just like Wendy."

"Yeah, that's it! Most people aren't addicted to porn." 

Tamara laughed out loud. "Oh my god, you're right! It's just us!"

Ben joined her in laughing. "I guess it's true." 

"So, in the end, the only person who could understand how we see sex and dating... would be us. Each other." 

Ben raised an eyebrow. "God, you're right." He looked out the window. "What do you think THAT means?" 

Tamara obviously had something she wanted to say, but it took her a while to say it. "Maybe... I dunno... maybe we're only good with people like..." She shrugged.

"People like us," Ben offered.

"Yeah," Tamara said softly.

"But how many people like that are there in the world?"

"Less than we think...?" 

"I guess the obvious answer is..." 

Tamara blushed. "I know what you're thinking."

"I don't think you do." 

"Yes I do."

"Really?" 

"Let's just say..." Tamara chewed her tongue a little. "Let's just say... the thought has crossed my mind." 

Ben's heart suddenly raced. "Are we talking about the same thing here?" 

"I don't know. Are we?" 

He decided to go for it, at least to the edge of the cliff (without going over yet). "It sounds like we're discussing the idea that you and I would only be good for someone like... you and I." 

Tamara smiled, not her grin or her brilliant flashing smile but the one she kept for special occasions, the unguarded, revelatory smile, Ben's favorite. "Well, there it is." 

"Well then," Ben said, "I guess I have to admit, the thought has crossed my mind, too." 

"Yeah?" Tamara said, with an excitement Ben would not have expected. 

"Of course! It's kinda obvious." 

Tamara seemed to tremble. "But if it's so obvious, why didn't we ever... oh my god!" 

"You know why! You were Bev's friend. That made you and me like brother and sister, or sometimes like enemies. It was just weird."

"But it wasn't weird. We're really good friends. It makes sense. It always did." Tamara shook with nervous, positive energy. Ben felt that energy electrocuting him. 

"Wait wait wait. Just wait a minute. Let's take a step back." 

"Okay," Tamara said, acquiescing. 

"Just... wait." 

"Okay." The smile remained on Tamara's face. Benjamin stared at her, stared hard, the way every boy would stare at every woman if they thought there was no chance of getting caught, the way he might stare at a porn movie just as the money shot was about to arrive, and the girl stared back at him in exactly the same way. He drank in every detail of her—the way her chest moved under the sweater, as her heart raced in time with his own, the way she gently bit her bottom lip. Tamara had, literally, undeniably, never before been as cute as she was in this moment. 

Ben looked at the table so his voice would work. "You need a better reason to... like... someone... than that we aren't suitable for anyone else." 

"Oh." Tamara made an I-guess-I-kinda-see-your-point face. "That makes sense." 

"I mean, yes, it's probably true, it's probably all true. I'm just saying... Okay. What I'm saying is, obviously, OBVIOUSLY, you and I are probably one-hundred percent compatible in terms of... a physical relationship." 

"Obviously." Tamara's voice nearly cracked. 

"But I think it's time..." Ben finally started to settle down as he arrived at his main point. "I think it's time I had a relationship that was based on more than sex." 

Tamara was crest-fallen. "Oh," she said, unable to hide her disappointment. 

But Ben wasn't finished. "I mean, if you and I ever did... you know... date..." Ben took a drink. "It would have to be because we really liked each other." 

Tamara's smile returned. "Right." 

"I'm talking a lot here." 

"I don't mind." 

"Good. Good. This kinda came from out of the blue." 

Tamara pressed her palms flat on the table. Ben stared at her beautiful hands. She said, "Yeah, it really did. Look, here's what I propose." 

"I'm listening." 

"Let's say it's possible that you and I could start something... someday. If we ever did, we'd need to be sure about it."




New Year’s Surprise



"Yes! That's just right." 

"Otherwise, we'd completely destroy our friendship." 

"Okay, same page." 

"And we'd probably have to keep it from getting too physical too fast." 

This last point disappointed Ben—he wanted Tamara now in a new and completely unbridled way—but she had actually made the point he needed to hear. "Same page exactly." 

"Well then... what next?" 

Ben's heart still beat a little too fast. Never before had he been so excited, relieved, hopeful and elated all at one time. He wanted nothing so much as to dive head-first off the cliff, but if he wanted this to work, it had to work right, and it had to work the very first time. Logic must play a part. 

He tentatively added onto the plan. "I say, we've set the groundwork today for a much stronger friendship, the kind that we could build something more on top of." 

"Right. Yeah." 

"We've got everything out in the open, and we're enjoying our time together, and Beverly isn't anywhere to be seen." 

Tamara gave a knowing grin. "Yes. It's just about us now." 

"Yeah. So I say, let's take it slow. Just let it happen. Or not happen. Maybe we're just... I mean, today, with all that's gone on, maybe we're just reacting to..."

"To how horny we are." 

Ben laughed out loud, and Tamara joined him. She'd hit the nail on the head. 

"Also," she added, "you couldn't start dating someone else today anyway. You just, like, got dumped this morning." 

"There's that, too." Ben laced his fingers together. "Although... I'm not missing her very much at all right now." 

Tamara played with her hair. "I'm not missing Gil, either."

"So at least we got that out of the way." 

"Yeah." Tamara, not knowing what else to do, piled her trash onto the food tray. Ben could sense it, too—they'd found the closure he'd been seeking, if that was indeed still the goal. The girl asked, "Does this mean, I dunno, you take me back to my car now?" 

Ben ran his fingers through his hair. "Geez, I don't know. I mean, it's New Year's Eve and the entire town is empty. We could at least go see a movie or something." 

Tamara perked up so visibly that she almost bounced. "Excellent! You wanna go right now?" 

"Yeah! I really do." 

"It would give us a chance to, you know, wind down." 

"Okay, that's cool." 

With a new plan of action in hand, Tamara and Ben proceeded confidently back to the car and down the highway to the movie theater. They found a toilet humor flick they'd both been wanting to see (the kind that might star Adam Sandler or Ben Stiller, you know the type), with a showtime in forty minutes. They sat in the dimly lit theater, completely alone, right next to each other, and talked some more about movies and television until the show started. 

Together they ripped apart the previews for upcoming films ("Craptastic sequel," Tamara called one sci-fi pic, and they both giggled about that for far longer than they needed to), then the movie started and they continued talking and laughing as though they were the only ones in the theater, which they were. 

At some point, Ben's quieted mind realized how relieved he was that his so-called plan of action had not resulted in separation for the rest of the day from this lovely girl he seriously planned to date soon. About a minute later, as though on cue, Tamara slipped her arm around Ben's, found his hand and placed hers in it. No hesitation, no apologies or permissions, just the natural act of holding hands. They continued to laugh at the movie from time to time, but not nearly as hard as before. Something was on their minds, and they liked it that way. At first Ben's heart raced, then it settled down. He was amazed at how much he had been looking forward to this moment, perhaps since he first recognized Tamara as a "girl" at the age of eleven. 

As the movie wound down toward its obvious end, the two untangled their arms and prepared to leave. End music, rolling credits, and then Tamara was the first to break the silence. "Not bad," she said. "I liked it." 

"Me too. Not as good as their last one." 

"I totally agree. Remember when Bev shot Coke out her nose during that one scene?" 

They laughed hard as they remembered. It occurred to Ben that, no matter how close he and Tamara became from this moment all, his sister would always be somewhere in the background, and essential part of the mix. And he was okay with that. They probably wouldn't be able to continue dating if Beverly disapproved, but that was a bridge they'd all cross when they came to it. But she wouldn't disapprove. Bev wanted them all to be happy, right? And now, they would be. It was almost inevitable. 

Not much talking as they made their way to the car, but once inside with the key in the ignition, Ben felt compelled to ask, "So where to?" 

Tamara bit her lip. She shrugged. 

"You know," Ben said, "we were talking earlier about having someone to kiss when the clock strikes twelve tonight..."

Tamara's eyes lit up. "Yeah?" 

"So I was thinking, we're both stuck here with no parties and no dates... Maybe we could just rent a movie or grab some dinner. Keep this thing going, at whatever level. Then tonight, we could watch the ball drop and maybe... You know. If you wanted a kiss, I could be the one." 

It didn't happen often, but when Tamara batted her eyelashes, she transported Ben back to that time when they were little kids together, and neither had a care in the world. It was a nice feeling. "That would be lovely," she said, something Ben couldn't remember ever before hearing her say. 

Ben rubbed his hands together like a coach whose team was doing well. "Alright then. In that case, I think we should just spend the rest of the afternoon together, until dinner time." 

Tamara nodded curtly, like a team member concurring with the assessment. "Yes, absolutely." 

"But if we go to my house..." 

"... we'll just start making out." 

Ben swallowed. "Probably, yeah." 

"I've got it." 

"Hit me." 

"You know I've got keys to the Johnson Center." 

Ben laughed. "Oh man! That's a great idea."

"We could just hang out there. The staff is gone, and there won't be any students because of the holiday. It's just fun to wander around and snoop through all the offices. Beverly comes with me all the time. I know where to find the codes for all the lockers and everything." 

"You have no reservations about this at all, do you?" 

"Nope." Tamara shook her head to reinforce her point. "I don't believe in privacy anymore. I'm a voyeur, and I always will be. Maybe it's a compulsion, maybe it's just a decision I've made. I don't care. As long as I don't get caught, no one gets hurt."

"But I caught you," Ben said with a smile.

"Right," Tamara responded, not missing a beat. "And now you're in it with me. My fellow voyeur." 

"Okay, let's do it." Ben started the car, and they drove directly to the campus athletic building, the Johnson Center, where Tamara worked part-time as a facilities assistant, cleaning and organizing and whatever. Tamara just happened to have the keys on her keyring, and the sense of danger began as soon as they stepped through the front doors. 

For starters, they took a leisurely stroll across the basketball courts, where the heat had been turned down before the Christmas break. They shot some hoops to warm up. 

Ben asked, "So what will we find in the lockers?"

"Everything, man. Diaries, laptops, sex toys, lots of embarrassing stuff." 

"You and Bev ever snatch-and-grab?" 

"No way. The fun is thinking about the other person continuing to write the embarrassing stuff after we're done with it, without knowing we'd been there. Bev's good at hiding shit on the computers. I don't know much about it." 

"But you work with computers all the time in your chem labs." 

"Yeah, but that's not Windows and the Internet and shit. Those chem analysis programs are the only ones I know." 

"Can I ask a question?" 

"You're about to." 

"Do you get porn online?"

Tamara shot a hoop. "Beverly does, sometimes. I look at the stuff she's downloaded, but it's pretty old now. She's mostly getting her nut cracked by Tony." 

"But if you have the computer porn, what do you need mine for?" 

Tamara smiled. "It's the nostalgia factor, I guess. There's something comforting about it. Plus, there's the Benjamin factor. Knowing I'm watching the same tapes you watch, seeing the new stuff you've bought over the years... it's strangely romantic." 

"If I'm hearing you right, you're saying you've been thinking about me romantically for a while." 

Tamara dribbled once, twice, then paused. "More than a while." She took the shot and missed. 

Ben asked, "Is this topic still off limits?" 

"I don't guess so. I'm not embarrassed about it anymore, at least." 

"Okay. So what kind of stuff did you and Beverly do together?" 

Tamara laughed. "Did I say I wasn't embarrassed anymore?" 

"Come on, I'm curious." 

"Alright, here's the deal. You name something, and I'll tell you if we did it or not. Just yes-or-no questions." 

"Okay. You kissed, obviously." 

"Yes." 

"And you masturbated in the same room together." 

"Yes." Tamara continued to shoot hoops, mostly to avoid looking Ben's direction, he suspected. 

"Did you masturbate each other?" 

Tamara buried her face in the basketball and screamed. Then she said, "Yes." 

"Was there any oral?" 

A giggling fit snuck up on Tamara. She threw the basketball away. "Some." 

"Well my god, Tamara, that's everything! You were totally fucking each other." 

Tamara folded her arms, speechless.

"So why'd you make me go through the twenty questions?" Ben asked, jokingly. 

Suddenly, Tamara started walking. Over her shoulder she said, "Can we change the subject now?" 

Ben followed her. "Yeah, might as well. We've covered this one pretty much." 

Tamara led Ben through the women's locker room, which looked exactly like the men's locker room, if Ben's memory served. They walked right to the opposite exit. "Come on, the locker codes are in the office on the other side of the pool room." The locker room door opened directly into the pool. 

"Hey, it's warm," Ben said. He leaned down and felt the water. "They left the heat on here." 

"Yeah, they did." She kept moving in the direction of the office door, but when she reached it, she walked past it and kept going, following a path around the edge of the pool. It was triple-Olympic size, with all the high-dive equipment at one end. Ben watched the girl walking, walking, not saying a word. He wondered what she was thinking. At last she completed the circle and walked back up to him, but instead of stopping, she gave him an indecipherable look and kept going right past him. Ben followed at a distance, listening to the sound of their footsteps and the lapping of the water. 

"What you thinking?" Ben asked very softly. 

Tamara, hands clasped behind her back, didn't slow down. "I wanna go for a swim." 

Ben liked this idea very much. "You know where we can get clean swimsuits? I'm not wearing some other jock's Speedo." 

Tamara stopped. "Actually, I thought we might not need swimsuits." 

Ben's mouth went dry, a neat trick considering the humidity of the room. "Oh... yeah?" 

"Not NAKED naked. Just underwear. You could stand that, right? I mean, I've been sleeping over at your house since the fourth grade, I'm sure you've seen my panties before."

"Your point is... technically valid," Ben said, hoarsely. 

"I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable."

Actually, Ben was growing more comfortable by the second, perhaps too comfortable to reveal what was happening beneath his zipped fly. But he wasn't shy about his body, either. Besides, he really really really wanted to do this. "Make a move, sweetheart." 

And that's just what Tamara did. She ripped her sweater off and tossed it against the wall, revealing her lovely, athletic torso, her beautiful white arms, and the pink cotton bra that revealed every delicate subtlety of her shapely chest. She gave a girlish curtsy that affected Ben on two levels, appealing both to his sense of humor and his pounding libido. 

"Better than you remember?" Tamara asked, hands on hips. "Worse?" 

"Better," Ben said, almost choking. 

Tamara unbuttoned her pants, revealing a matching pink set of underpants. "This is just like 'Vacation' with Chevy Chase," she said while stepping on the heels of her tennis shoes, "when the girl dives in and he's just standing there wondering what to do." 

That woke Ben up. He pulled his long-sleeve collared shirt over his head, along with the white undershirt beneath. "Not exactly like. They were complete strangers. You and I are anything but." 

"Not after today." Ben caught one quick flash of Tamara's nearly naked body before she dived without warning into the five-foot section of the pool. Either knowingly or not, she skimmed along the bottom of the pool long enough for Ben to tear his jeans and shoes off and jump in the water before she could see how, er, excited he'd gotten.

The cold water solved that problem, and just in time as Tamara made her approach. She bobbed to the surface, catching her breath and smiling like a kid, with most of the natural curl gone from her shoulder-length hair. Her wet shoulders and face glistened like the juicy skin of some forbidden fruit, and Ben wanted nothing more than to take a bite. Was that what should happen next? Should they talk, or do laps? Tamara set the tone by splashing a huge gush in Ben's face. 

"Tramp," Ben growled, then splashed her back. They horsed around from a distance for a few minutes, and then Tamara pounced, dunking the boy with a vengeance. She let go when he tickled her sides, and soon their splashing and shouting was pretty indistinguishable from any of the hundreds of pool moments they'd shared throughout the years. They might as well have been wearing swimsuits instead of boxers and bras. 

The workout was exhausting in the most useful. Tamara held her hand out, commanding Ben to stop. "Truce," she called, wiping water from her eyes.

"Truce?"

"Yes, truce, asshole." 

"I'll drown you like a rat if you call me an asshole again." 

"You wish, bitch." 

"You're pushing it, Tamara. I'm a man. I have my pride." 

"Okay, okay. You're a man." 

"You noticed." 

"No, I'm agreeing so you'll shut the hell up." 

Ben splashed her again, and she returned the volley, squealing and laughing all the way. "TRUCE!" she demanded. "Truce, damn it!" 

"Say I'm a man." 

"You're a man! My god, you're a man." 

"Damn right." 

They shared tired laughter as they caught their breath. Ben found himself questioning once more what the right next move would be, and once more, Tamara decided for him. They would continue their discussion. She floated at an angle, her breasts sometimes bobbing above the water line. Ben stared helplessly at the perfect curves, the slightly hard nipples. Was there no way to keep his throat from going dry?

"Is this what you had in mind for the day?" she asked.

"Not exactly." 

"Not exactly, huh? Better? Worse?" 

"Better. Much." 

Tamara smiled. Ben realized that most of his memories of her involved her smiling; it seemed to be her default state. So many girls he dated thought their sexiest look was a glare of distain, but Tamara either never had the same sadness to carry around or she carried it in a safer place. Of course, there had been that phase in high school with both Tam and Bev went goth—black lipstick, black fill-in-the-blank—but even then they'd been making more of a fashion statement, not really working out any dangerous teenage angst. Tamara was a smiler, inside and out, always had been, always would be. 

And Ben was in big trouble. She might just break his heart, and smile while doing it. Hell, she was doing it now.

He said, "I thought we'd talk about our exes all afternoon and share a box of Kleenex." 

"Ha!" Tamara said. "Fuck that. I can't even remember his name." 

"Good for you." 

"Besides, he wasn't really a man."

"Not a man? What's that mean?" 

"Nothing, it's just, now that I've seen one up close, I know what one looks like." 

"Ohhh yeah," Ben said with mock pride. "The ladies can't look away." 

"It's true. You're something else, Ben." 

"Shit, I know. You couldn't keep your hands off me in the movie theater."

Tamara's jaw dropped in mock-horror. "I didn't think we were even gonna bring that up!" 

"So now what? What you gonna do about it?" 

Tamara kept swimming. "I'll find a way to punish you. I always do." 

"You don't have a knife hidden in those panties, do you?" 

"A knife? No." 

"Because you might break my heart with it. Or without it." 

Tamara purred. "That's sappy." 

"Yeah," Ben laughed. 

"You're not upset I held your hand during the movie, are you?" 

"Of course not." 

"'Cause it could have meant anything. Just friends, you know?" 

"Yeah right. I'm surprised you kept your hands off me this long." 

Tamara stood (which only put her head above the water) and gasped, pretending to catch her breath. "You bastard!" she said with a smile. 

"Sorry. Too much?" 

"Maybe," Tamara said, shaking her head in disbelief. She continued swimming a circle around Ben.

"Seriously, though..."

"Time to get serious?" 

"Not if you don't want." 

"No, I'm good with serious... for a minute." 

"Okay, seriously. You're attracted to me, right?" 

"Pshh," Tamara spit in disgust. "What makes you think that?" 

"Oh, I don't know, maybe the fact that you touch yourself while watching a tape of me jerking off." 

"Holy shit! Say what you mean, why doncha." 

"I'm not being smarmy! I'm just asking."

"Why, don't you find ME attractive?" 

Ben went silent, letting the seconds tick by, until Tamara was forced to stop swimming and give him her full attention. She knew he was waiting to say something, but she couldn't guess what. 

At last Ben said, "Tamara, you're the first girl I ever had a crush on. I've wanted you my whole life. You were the first girl I ever thought of as a 'girl.' I... wow. I'm just saying all this out loud, aren't I?" But Tamara didn't interrupt. "I remember the year you got boobs. I watched you every day for three years, as they got bigger, fuller, tighter in your shirt. I'm not trying to be gross, I'm just saying... I wanted you so bad, and I didn't even know it. I wanted to touch you so much. I wanted to be your boyfriend." Another pause, then Ben started speaking again. "And now, to find out you wanted me too, it's like... it's like finding out I had a million bucks hidden in my bedroom, and maybe it's still there." 

Time stood still, or maybe it all crashed together, past and future pouring into the present. The nostalgia factor was there, as the two friends relived and re-imagined all those moments they spent together and apart, but somehow the kids they'd been weren't in the pool with them. They were two college students struggling to make two decisions, one emotional, one physical, or perhaps coming to the realization that the decisions had already been made, and the inevitable was upon them. 

Tamara's next words were almost plucked straight from Ben's head. "Ready to make out?" 

"Someday," Ben said, smiling to show he was half-kidding, himself not sure if he was. 

Tamara grinned, letting it be known she was either also kidding or she wasn't. "Let me know if you change your mind." 

"Keep talking. You might change it for me." 

"I like that plan." 

"I thought we already had a plan. We were going to take it slow." 

"Yes we were," Tamara confirmed. 

"We're not taking it very slow," Ben observed. "Are we?" 

"No," Tamara said softly. 

"I'm having trouble remembering why we came up with that first plan." 




New Year’s Surprise



"I think it had something to do with making sure we liked each other for the right reasons, and not just because we shared the same opinions on sex." 

"Oh yeah." Ben thoughtfully shifted his jawbone from side to side. "Tell me this: What steps should we take to find out whether or not we like each other for the right reasons?" 

Tamara laughed. "Well... you could just ask." 

"Yeah," Ben said with a laugh of his own. "Alright. Do you like me?" 

"Yes. I really do." 

"Okay. Tell me why." 

"Because you're nice. And sexy. And you're very important to me, to my life. And we think alike on a whole lot of topics that have nothing to do with sex." She skimmed her lovely arms across the top of the water. "I've always looked forward to being with you, and I've never dreaded it. You're the boy I compare other boys to before I say 'yes' to a date." She advanced a few inches toward Ben, imperceptible to anyone who wasn't watching her as closely as Ben was. "You're the boy I think about when I'm in another man's arms. I've had a crush on you your whole life, too." 

Ben shortened the distance between them. "I might be ready now." 

"Might be?" 

"I'm still not sure it's a good idea to just start kissing like this. Neither of us has any self-control when it comes to lust." 

Tamara nodded. "But?" 

"But... I have no self-control."

Tamara licked her lips. "I'm waiting." 

Ben blew out his breath. "What about the fact that we're both nearly naked in the pool?"

"You mean, can we just kiss and not do anything else?"

"That's just what I mean." 

"We can wait until we're dry and clothed again."

"That sounds like a more sensible plan." 

"Good. You go first." 

Ben didn't move. It was a comedic moment, but neither laughed. Ben said, "We could pretend we've got clothes on."

"I won't look if you won't."

"Deal." Ben reached out—he had, without knowing it, closed the gap between them to a single arm's length—and tentatively caressed Tamara's wet shoulder, first one, then both. "You're so pretty," he said, echoing his thoughts precisely. Then he pulled the girl, light as a feather as she floating in the water, close enough for his mouth to touch hers. He kissed her, softly, sacredly, with a sense of reverence. With that kiss he told her everything that was left to say—how much he wanted her, needed her, respected her, lusted after her. And when her hands wrapped around his biceps, and she pulled his body closer to hers, he heard her saying the same things back to him. 

Minutes passed one after another, and the newly christened lovers took their time. They pressed their bodies together under the water, not purposefully but neither accidentally, more of a comfortable bumping together from time to time. Ben waited patiently for Tamara's mouth to open and invite his tongue. After she did, they licked each other softly, carelessly. This, Ben realized, was what all his relationships leading to this moment should have been: fun. Kissing Tamara, holding her close, was just as natural, relaxing and rewarding as any hobby he'd ever pursued. Yes, he would make Tamara his hobby. He was hooked. 

Suddenly, surprisingly, Tamara pulled away. Ben didn't know what to expect next, so he was thrilled when turned her back to him, placed her hands on his and wrapped his arms around her torso. They floated that way for a few moments, wrapped in each other's embrace, forming a memory. 

"That was a good start," Tamara said. 

"Are you sure we have to stop?" Ben asked, deliberately interjecting a touch of smartass to the proceedings. 

Tamara turned her face so that her soft, warm cheek nestled against Ben's neck. "I suddenly had the thought, I wasn't done talking to you yet." 

A few more smartass comments came to mind, but Ben simply said, "I know. Me too." 

"I'm glad we kissed," Tamara said. "I want to some more. Maybe after dinner." 

"Hey, that's right. We still have to spend New Year's Eve together." 

"I never forgot. It's the most romantic part of this whole wonderful day." 

"'Romantic,'" Ben said thoughtfully. "I never thought you'd see me that way." 

"I never stopped," Tamara said. Maybe she pressed a little harder against him at that moment, maybe not—it was hard to tell in the water. 

The girl broke free, swam to the pool's edge, climbed out, gathered her clothes and walked toward the women's locker room. "I'm going to take a shower... alone." 

"Damn," Ben said, and meaning it.

"You need anything?"

"Can you find me some hair gel?"

"If I can't, I'm a pretty sucky snooper. Look for it when you come back to the pool." And with that, she vanished. It was the first time since late morning they'd been apart. 

Ben walked on shaky legs to the boys' room. Why shaky? Was it from being in the pool, or was it Tamara? The urge to jerk off in the locker room shower was tremendous, but two things kept him from it. First, he was, shockingly, not in the mood, not in light of the truly genuine emotional buzz he was still sharing with the love of his life, against all odds. Somehow he thought he might cheapen the experience if he acted selfishly at this point. And secondly, because he saw the situation for what it was, and because he now saw Tamara in a whole new light, he knew he might be ruining good things to come in the later evening by jerking one out too early. Calculating, yes, but there it was. If he was wrong, he could always do the dirty work at a later hour. 

The lovers didn't say much as they circled each other by the pool, swapping hair gel and a brush, taking turns with a hair dryer Tamara had found. With a sense of near-anticlimax, they threw their towels in the dirty laundry basket in the corner and left the building. Tamara held Ben's hand as they walked to the car, and Ben opened her door for her. "Oh my god," she said girlishly, as she poured herself into the passenger's seat. 

"Where are we going now?" Ben asked once he was behind the wheel. 

"Well, Wendy may have been a fan of Wendy's, but I don't mind an expensive meal now and then." 

"I've been saving money on meals for six months," Ben admitted. "I think I could splurge for our first date." 

"Our first date. This all seems like a dream."

"Don't say that shit," Ben joked. "I have a habit of waking up early from good dreams." 

"Not this one," Tamara reassured him, and she took his hand once again. 

Ben drove to a restaurant very close to the college campus, a place that seemed to entice two different types of clientele—students on dates who wanted seafood and pasta but couldn't afford the fancier places on the edge of town, and professors meeting their spouses for dinner and cocktails. The place wasn't immune from the jeans-and-t-shirt crowd, but most students took the time to comb their hair and dig out a shirt with a collar for the occasion. This night, New Year's Eve in a town where hardly any students had stuck around, the dining room floor was only half full. 

Tamara couldn't stop smiling, and that made Ben smile. After they ordered their food, they spent the first part of the evening recalling stories from their hometown—sometimes laughing hard over a shared memory, sometimes revealing previously unknown insights about people in their separate social circles. Talk of parties and school functions led to scientific analysis of the friends and enemies who made them memorable, and such talk of people inevitably led to the topic of past boyfriends/girlfriends. 

"I remember Clarisse the most," Tamara said, as her fork played with a shrimp covered in alfredo sauce. "Beverly and I both liked her so much. We figured you'd turn her into the fourth Musketeer." 

"God, Clarisse. Well, it's been years, so I guess it's safe for the truth to come out." 

"The truth? Oh boy, that sounds juicy." 

"If you think that now, just wait, especially in light of recent facts that have surfaced." 

"Well, don't make me wait!" 

"It's nothing, just this... She decided she was a lesbian." 

"No way! Clarisse?"

"And you'll never guess who." 

"Mary Lanois!" Tamara exclaimed.

"What? How'd you know that?" 

"Oh man, it was the big gossip in the tennis locker room that year. Mary wouldn't shut up about how she was going to grow up to marry another woman, and then all of a sudden, she started taking French, and she wouldn't shut up about how she was going to move to France. And I'm sitting here now, thinking, oh my god, Clarisse was the president of the French Club. She wouldn't shut up about moving to France, either! It's so obvious, now." 

"Well, I heard last year that Clarisse did move to France. She's in chef's college." 

"How great for her! And what about Mary?" 

"Who knows? We'll probably find her here on the West Coast sometime soon. She'd fit right in." 

Tamara laughed her agreement, then she said, "Hmmm." 

"Hmmm what?" 

"Just thinking... Mary wasn't the only progressive in our high school. I would have turned heads, if anyone knew about..." 

"I guess so." Ben skewered some steamed vegetables and waited his turn to eat them. "You and Beverly led a secret life. And to think, you were both dating all those boys at the same time. Hey, can I ask, did you ever share about Bev and you with any of the boys you dated?" 

"Oh god no. No way. Most of them were just boy toys."

"You and Sammy were pretty close." 

"Sammy? He was smart, but totally conceited. I told him how much I liked his hair, and he gave me the best oral sex I ever had. After Beverly, of course." 

"You know, if you're telling the truth about how much sex you and Bev had with other boys in high school, I'm surprised word didn't get around." 

"It wasn't about quantity, but quality," Tamara said, then sipped from her glass of Coke. "I only had two one-night-stands, both my senior year, plus the three steady boyfriends you knew about. Five was a lot of boys to have sex with, but with girls like Penny Calief making the rounds, Bev and I weren't going to make any headlines in the gossip mags."

"Penny Calief. What a total slut. I wanted her." 

"I bet you did, you perv." 

"I wanted you, too." 

"Did not."

"Physically? I sure as hell did. I mean, damn, to think I could have been your boy toy!"

"Come on, Ben. Are you kidding with me?" 

"Just slightly. I mean, if you and I had hooked up, we might have been a couple all this time."

"It never would have worked. We were brother and sister. That's how it was. You know it's true." 

"Yeah, I do know it. I'm just saying." 

"Plus," Tamara said, wiping the last of her meal from her lips with the linen napkin, "who knows if we'd have made it this long? Maybe by waiting, we were able to make today possible."

"You're probably right about that. And I wouldn't miss this for the world." 

Tamara casually placed her hand on the tabletop, offering it to Ben. Ben accepted. She said, "So how will this work?" 

"This? You mean us? Do we really need to map the whole thing out?" 

"No, of course not. It's just... I mean, there's a reason we didn't do this before, right? I want to make sure we both still want it."

"I do," Ben said very quickly, almost as a reflex. He wanted there to be no doubt in the girl's mind.

"Me too," Tamara said. "So what next? How will it work?"

"Well, for starters, next time you want to watch my porn, all you have to do is ask."

Tamara groaned. "Look, ass, I didn't say anything at first because I didn't want to be a rat, but your sister's the one who's totally been stealing your tapes for years. I never once went into your room... unless Beverly forced me to follow her." 

"You're not innocent." 

"Are you mad?" 

"Not really. I knew about all the embarrassing shit in Beverly's life, too. She's not the only one who snooped around where she didn't belong. Although, it certainly puts her collection of vibrators in a different light, knowing she wasn't using them alone." 

Tamara continued to speak with refreshing candor about her past with Bev, as though a great weight had been lifted between her and Ben. "Oh hot damn, she had the best toys. She never wanted to buy tapes or anything—I guess you had to cross state lines for that shit, and you always had plenty—but she never minded walking right into Barney's Toy Box and buying a new dildo when she felt like it. She was always so..."

"Confident," Ben said. "I always envied her for that." 

"You were confident, too."

"In ways. But not like Bev. She was the perfect girl to have as a twin. We knew some other twins who were ashamed of the fact, always pretended they didn't know each other at school. I'm sure you remember some of them. Or else they dressed the same—gag me. But Bev and I were just friends, good friends. We still are. Honestly... I'm a little worried about what we're going to tell her about... everything that happened today." 

"I thought it was all a secret between us two." 

"Come on. The Three Musketeers, remember? You're gonna tell her that you fessed up to me. But really, I was talking about... you know. You and me. Going on a date."

"Or two." 

"Or twenty." 

"Yeah, I can see why you'd be worried. But I'm not." 

"Not at all?"

"No way. She wants you to be happy. And me too. She'll be really excited, I think." 

"You'd think I'd know that. She's my twin, after all."

"Yeah. But she was my lover." 

The turn of phrase caught Ben's attention. Even in the spirit of frankness they were enjoying, Ben hadn't expected Tamara to put it that way. He said, "I sort of feel like, if Bev were my brother instead, I'd be getting his ex-girlfriend when he was done with her, and it would make him mad. But you said it wasn't like that with you and Bev. That you were never in love." 

"It wasn't. Not ever. I didn't mean 'lovers' like that. I just meant, we shared a bed. It was just sex, but the one-night-stands you and I have both had were also just sex, and what I had with Beverly obviously meant a lot more than that. It went on for years. It was our secret, and we kept it. It's part of who I am." Tamara looked out the window. "I've never talked to anyone about this before. Not even Bev." 

"Yeah," Ben said, trying to sound understanding. "That's all I meant before... It's amazing to me that I thought Bev and I shared everything, and now I find out, we didn't at all." 

"That's not true, Ben. Not really. Look, she'll want to be part of the discussion. She's my friend and your sister. You and her can talk about this if you want. Like I could stop you." 

"But it's good to know you don't mind."

"I don't," Tamara said with a smile. 

"I love when you smile," Ben said. 

"I love when you smile, too."

They shared another wonderful time of silence, and Ben was amazed at how comfortable he felt simply sitting and waiting with Tamara, not worrying about what would come next. He was tempted to revise their history and say that it had always been this way between them, but he knew that wasn't true. This was something new, though it had grown from the seed of their past friendship. In the end, they had simply found the right time to begin. 

"Thank you for dinner," Tamara said.

"You're welcome," Ben replied. 

"What do you want to do now? Should we go somewhere? I mean, like, a party?" 

"Naw," Ben said. "I don't know of any." 

"Well," Tamara offered, "we could go back to your house."

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah. We can watch TV or something. You've got all those movies—" Tamara and Ben both laughed at the same time. "Not THOSE movies. I meant..." 

"I know what you meant." 

"It's already 8:30. We'll just... you know. Until midnight."

"Okay. Hey, I know, we'll get some dessert at the store and take it back with us. That'll keep us occupied." 

"Excellent. Can we get a peach cobbler?" 

Ben paid for the meal, and they got in the car. At the store, Tamara paid for the dessert with a credit card—"To make up for almost stealing your spaghetti"—and they took it back to Ben's place, not saying much along the way. Ben pretended to listen to the radio music, but all he could think about was how he'd never be able to control himself in an empty house with Tamara, not tonight. 

"It's official now," he said, trying to get his mind off sex. "We're dating." 

"We-e-e-e-ll," Tamara hedged, "just because we went on one date..." 

"Ouch." 

"Just joking. But if I could change one thing... Oh, never mind. I don't want to ruin a nice time." 

"Uh-oh. That sounds scary." 

"Nothing but the obvious. I wish it hadn't all started with... Man, I still can't even talk about it." 

"You mean the infamous tapes?" 

"Yes. That's what I mean."

"Alright, but look. Are you embarrassed at how I caught you, or ashamed that you like watching porn?" 

"The first one, definitely. I'm a big girl, and I don't see anything wrong with porn. I'm even old enough to say 'porn' without giggling." 

"Good. Me too. Then the only thing left is that I'm the one who should be humiliated, and I'm actually nothing but relieved."

"Yeah, I know. But all I meant was, it would have been nicer to have a less disgusting story to tell people about how we started out." 

"That's no problem at all," Ben explained. "We'll just say you broke into my place to steal some spaghetti. My roommate's spaghetti." 

Tamara laughed. "Okay. I like that." 

As they parked in the driveway of Ben's house, he stopped the car engine and took the pretty girl's hand. "This morning when I pulled up to this spot, I was about as low as I could get. You have no idea how grateful I am you picked this morning to drop by." 

"That's a nice way to put it. 'Drop by.'"

"I know you're still freaked out about the whole tape thing. Look at it this way. There were probably a hundred times I tried to talk myself into throwing all those things in the dumpster. People think what they think, and it's inevitable that one day I'd get caught. But if I had, then you never would have come to me like you did. Ever." 

Tamara traced lines across the back of Ben's hand. "That DID occur to me. But I'm not convinced we never would have gotten together."

"You're probably right. Seems like... this was always supposed to happen." 

Ben thought he detected a tear in Tamara's eye. "You were never this romantic growing up. But you were always very sweet."

"Let's get that dessert cooking." 

Once in the house, Tamara put the cobbler in the oven, set the timer, and joined Ben on the sofa as he turned the TV on, sitting right next to him. Thankfully, she didn't try to hold his hand again; otherwise, he never would have been able to pry himself off of her. They watched a movie on cable for about fifteen minutes, and then Tamara turned off the TV and tossed the remote on the table. 

"What?" Ben asked. "What is it?" 

"That movie sucked."

"I'm not disagreeing." 

"I've got an idea." 

"Yeah?" 

She buried her hands in Ben's hair and planted a big kiss on his lips, slowly, so slowly. The kiss escalated, and soon she was sitting on Ben's lap, offering her neck to his hot breath, his wet attentions. Ben was elated to find that the easy-going sense of fun from before hadn't been a fluke. His new girlfriend would continue to be just as open and happy in his arms as she had been that first time in the pool, and for that matter, all the years they'd known each other before tonight. 

Just as Tamara was beginning to moan in a way Ben had never heard before, the timer in the kitchen went off. "Holy shit," Tamara said, as she tried unsuccessfully to pull herself away from Ben for the next few minutes. At last the oven timer refused to be ignored, and the girl stood, hair and clothes disheveled, and walked to the kitchen. 

Ben followed her. She found hotpads and placed the dessert on the stovetop. "Are you hungry now?" she asked. 

"Yes," Ben said, and he grabbed her, kissing her once again, holding her tight. Tamara fell back against the counter, pulling Ben with her, rubbing her hands over his chest and arms and hips. Her faint moans of pleasure returned, muffled as they were by Ben's mouth. And then, without disengaging from Ben's endeavors, she reached behind her and found the light switch. She turned off the kitchen light, the only light that had been on in the house (besides the TV, which was now also extinguished). 




New Year’s Surprise



In the dark, everything changed, and nothing did. They continued as they had, but now their hands began to roam across the inappropriate territories. Tamara was first to take things to the next level by grabbing Ben's butt with both hands. Ben took this as a sign that Tamara's ass was now fair game, and he fondled her with impunity. Then his hands crawled back around the front, and he finally did the thing he'd been wanting to do ever since finding her in his house wearing that adorable, tight red sweater—he caressed her breasts, gently at first, careful to give the moment the ceremonial air it deserved. He and Tamara weren't just making out, they were observing a rite. They were starting something meant to last. 

"Do we have to talk about this?" Tamara whispered in Ben's ear.

"If we talked about it, could we stop it?" 

"No, not at all." 

Ben kissed Tamara's ears as he whispered in them. "It's all been said. You're the only one who would understand. I'm the only one who understands you." 

"I believe it, Ben. I do." 

"We can wait if you want, but it won't matter. It won't change anything." 

"I feel the same way. I don't want to wait." 

"Thank you god." 

"We've wasted too much time as it is." And just like that, Tamara pulled Ben's shirts off. She kissed her way down his neck to his collarbones, and Ben held her by the waist, letting her take her time. When she returned to his mouth, Ben slid his hands up Tamara's sides, pushing the sweater, taking in the feel of her smooth skin like tasting a new kind of candy for the first time. His hands kept moving until they found the sides of her bra, then lifted the sweater right off of Tamara's body, placing her arms above her head. Ben's palms traced lines down the girl's arms, down to her chest, down to her breasts. He cupped them in his hands and kissed her lips once more, very softly. Tamara's hands touched Ben's elbows lightly, and they kissed that way for a long, luxurious minute. Where earlier Ben's heart had been beating fast, he now felt as though all the air and blood in his body had completely stopped moving. Every function within him now belonged to Tamara. 

She moved her hands up until they rested on top of Ben's, so they were holding her breasts together. Then, in the dim light of the distant streetlamps, Ben watched as Tamara reached behind and unclasped the bra. She slipped the straps off her shoulders, which fell down her forearms, then returned her hands to Ben's elbows and waited. Ben was slow to move, not out of fear but because he wanted to record every single second of the experience in the deepest recesses of his long-term memory. At last he removed Tamara's bra from her body, then lifted his hands back to her chest. The soft mounds of flesh were warm to the touch, and he felt her nipples, impossibly hard, between his fingers. He told himself that if he were forced to stop at this point, it would have all been worth it, and no regrets. But he knew they weren't going to stop. 

"Turn around," Ben said. "I liked when you did that in the pool." The boy turned the girl so her back was against his chest. He moved his hands tenderly across her tummy, under the curves of her breasts, around the goosebumps of her very hard nipples. Tamara lifted her arms overhead and around Ben's neck, allowing him unfettered access to her body. And when his hands reached the top of her blue jeans, Tamara's excited breathing infected Ben like arcing electricity. He wanted to rip her pants off but forced himself to continue moving slowly, allowing them both to savor every second, every touch. At last he opened the top button, pulled down the zipper, and moved his hands along the edge of her panties to her hips. 

"Yes," Tamara moaned. 

Ben breathed deep the scents from Tamara's beautiful curly hair, shampoo mixed with a touch of chlorine from the pool. His hands pushed her jeans down as though smoothing the final edges from a fine work of statue art. Her legs were strong and smooth, perfect in every detail, just as he imagined. He remembered how infatuated he had been at age 16 with the flawless curve where her buttocks met her upper thighs, a sight he'd seen so many times at swimming pools and in brief glimpses during all those two-girl slumber parties. 

"I dream about you," Ben said, not meaning to talk but unable to stop. "You're in my dreams constantly. Never angry or sad. You always smile in my dreams." 

"I don't always smile, you know." Tamara helped Ben push her pants to the floor and off of her feet, tugging her shoes away with them. "I know you told your sister you think I'm always smiling." 

"Aren't you?"

"You make me smile, Ben. That's why you see me that way." 

Ben fell hopelessly in love with Tamara at that moment. He turned her back around and kissed her mouth with gentle purpose. His kissed across her mouth and chin but never wandered far from her lips, as she kissed and tasted him tenderly in return. As Ben's hands wandered over the girl's back and arms and the sides of her boobs, Tamara's fingers fumbled greedily with the mechanics of his jeans. She managed to yank them to his knees, and then her hands moved upward across his legs and finally to his (still slightly damp from the pool) boxer shorts. When she found the hard, twitching member waiting for her there, both of them once again experienced ragged breathing and racing heartbeats. 

Just as Tamara was about to reach inside his shorts, Ben said, "Did you mean for this to play out just like that scene from 'The Notebook'?"

Tamara had no choice but to laugh. She hugged Ben and kissed his mouth, making yummy sounds that were more playful than purposeful. She understood it was time to find a way onto something big and soft, where they could recline. Taking Ben by the hand, she led him through the dark house, down the hall to his bedroom. "I can't believe this is happening," she said as she peeled her socks off and tossed them in a corner. At least Ben guessed that's what she was doing; his room was very dark with the shades drawn.

"Hey, listen to this," Ben said, also tugging off his pants, shoes and socks. He hit a button on the boom box that sat on the floor, and "Losing a Whole Year," the first song on Third Eye Blind's first album, began playing. "How's that for junior high memories?" After a few seconds he turned the music down to a inconspicuous background level. 

"Oh my god," Tamara gushed. "We played that endlessly for a month. You and Beverly were so good at harmonizing with each other."

"Don't kid yourself. We made a good trio." 

"But not tonight." Tamara stepped back into Ben's arms.

"Not tonight." The ludicrousness of the moment flooded Ben's thoughts like an intoxicating vapor. Was this really happening? Tamara, THE Tamara, in his arms, in his bedroom, naked except for panties and willing to lose them, touching him and kissing him, sharing all his most important memories, promising through words and actions to stay as long as he held her. No dream of her, even among the best of them, had ever been this good. 

"Sometimes," Tamara said as she kissed Ben's neck, "I'd put this CD on when I was alone in my bedroom. I'd take my clothes off slowly and pretend it was you taking them off. I'd remember singing with you in the car, as I played with myself on the bed."

"I wish I'd known," Ben said softly. His hands were drawn magnetically toward the backside of Tamara's panties fabric. 

"It's better this way," Tamara said. "It's so good." 

Ben locked his mouth over Tamara's, licking her and sucking her, as they descended onto the bed. He hadn't bothered to make the bed since, like, grade school, but at least he was able to say, "By the way, I changed the sheets just last night." 

Tamara moved against Ben's body like a force of nature, greedy for more. "You're going to have to change them again," she said without a hint of humor. Her teeth tapped against his flesh from time to time, and her fingernails, short though they were, clawed for shallow purchase across his back. 

They made out that way for three songs. Ben held her tight and kissed her body, paying special attention to every inch of her C-cup tits and strong shoulders. When his teeth touched her nipples, every time, even by accident, she pulled at his hair and gasped through her open mouth. He loved this response, so he kept doing it. After a while he could sense her body approaching that familiar plateau, and he was determined to lift her onto it. He sucked and licked her tits, nibbled her nipples, slobbered down her sternum, and Tamara's feet and legs moved harder and faster against his body. Then finally, their bodies clasped together like matching parts. Ben's mouth and hands pushed Tamara's body closer and closer toward the thing she was hoping for. She clamped her legs around his, her crotch pressed hard against his thighbone, her panties sopping wet. He could smell her. She continued breathing sharply, moaning softly, holding him in place to urge him on, braced for impact. 

"My god," Tamara muttered, then she whipped her back in an arch and came. Ben felt her legs and tummy shivering against him as she summoned more and more orgasm, by way of an electric current located where her wet crotch rode Ben's leg. Her own leg created delicious friction against Ben's aching penis, and he knew the wet spot in his boxers hadn't come from Tamara. 

"Ben, Ben, Ben, oh Ben. OHHH Ben. Oh wow." Tamara took her time coming down from the plateau. She clawed playfully at Ben's biceps with her fingernails. "I knew we'd be great together. I always knew it." 

"I want you so much, Tamara." 

"Ben, sweet boy, my sweet Ben." She chuckled. "I just knew you were a sex expert." 

"Guess I am. Huh." He tried not to break the momentum, but a thought occurred to him. "I don't usually discuss my bedroom experience with whoever I'm dating."

"What do you mean?" 

"You know, I mean, a girl likes to think she's the only one." 

"There's no room for lies between us. I want you to remember everything you've learned from your years with other girls and by yourself." Tamara pecked at Ben's mouth with her dry lips, moistening them. Her hand moved meaningfully across the front of his shorts. "I've learned a thing or two myself." 

Now it was Ben's turn to gasp in open-mouthed pleasure. Determined to wait no longer, he slid his hand down the front of Tamara's panties. "Oh god," he said.

"Oh my god," said Tamara. She moved her own hand down Ben's shorts. Her gentle fingers wrapped themselves around his painfully engorged cock, fondling him but not yet stroking. 

Ben's fingers explored Tamara's genitals with care. She kept a small, perfectly trimmed patch of pubic hair just above her slit, and the rest was luxuriously smooth. Ben felt slick juices coating all the flesh covered by the front of her underwear. When his fingers dipped inside Tamara's wet pussy, tracing the hard flesh just below her clitoris, Tamara's hand froze around his cock. She stopped breathing. 

"You'll make me come again," she whispered almost too softly to hear.

"Do you want me to?" 

"No, not yet. But don't stop touching me." She kissed the boy, her mouth open and full, her breath sweet and steamy. They pulled each other's underpants off at the same time. Then Ben tugged the girl's body against him, on top of him, so that she straddled him spread-eagle, with his cock pressed hard against her crotch. Once they were in that position, they slowed down. Ben caressed Tamara's ass, as she moved very slowly against him, her wetness dripping onto him, slightly stroking him. They kissed in a way Ben had never kissed a girl before, as though they really meant it, because they really did. 

"I'm in no hurry," Tamara said suddenly. 

Ben thought he knew what she meant. They were on the verge of insertion, but if they wanted to, there were a few other fun things to try first. Ben wanted to. "Okay," he said, and Tamara took that as her cue. She kissed a path down his body, fondling his muscles every inch of the way, until her mouth arrived at his penis. 

"You have the best penis," Tamara said. She pressed her tongue against the head.

"Oh yeah?" Ben said, as his head involuntarily leaned back against the pillow.

"I've always thought so. The first time I was it wasn't on that tape. I peeped you in the shower. Beverly never knew." 

"That is so hot. You were an eleven-year-old nympho."

"You're so thick. I really like it." 

"That's important, right?"

"Right." 

Tamara had no intention of teasing Ben. She popped his dickhead inside her mouth, never scrapping the edges with her teeth, which impressed Ben a great deal. She sucked a little more, taking in a bit more of the shaft, then a bit more, until after only a few seconds the entire nine inches was completely buried in her mouth. 

"Holy SHIT," Ben said a little too loudly. 

The girl created a vacuuming pressure in her mouth and throat, never once gagging. The roof of her mouth and her tongue pressed with force against every single inch of him, and for a time Ben felt nothing else in the world, neither in body nor mind, except the mouth sucking him. He knew he was gasping a little too loudly for a man, but he didn't give a shit. Tamara caressed his balls sometimes, but mostly she focused on the most important part, the wet sucking of his hard shaft. 

Ben's orgasm had been building ever since he jumped in the pool that afternoon, but even he was surprised by the speed, and the force, with which his sperm exploded out of him. He instinctively grabbed Tamara's soft curls of hair, then he remembered himself. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't warn—"

Tamara reassured him, through touches and hums, that she had no intention of stopping her powerful suck until every drop of him made its way down her throat. Ben vaguely considering a further apology for both his inability to last longer and his rudeness in cumming in her mouth, but the apology, along with all other conscious thought, faded from his mind. Tamara's slobbering mouth continued sucking, sucking, until he was left breathing shallowly, limbs limp, eyes closed to slits. 

After a minute of recovery, Ben coaxed Tamara back up into his arms. She pressed her cheek against Ben's, draped one leg across his belly and moved her hand across his chest.

"I'm in love with you," she said. 

Ben didn't respond right away, so the only way Tamara could know he was smiling was to feel it in his cheeks. Knowing what he had to do, what he wanted to do, he answered, "I've loved you for so long."

"I thought we could just get it out of the way now." 

"You thought right." 

"Don't say it if you don't mean." 

"I never have before."

"Never have what, said it, or not meant it?" 

"Uh, I don't know what that sentence means." 

"Have you said 'I love you' to a girl before?"

"No." 

"Never?" 

"Hmm-mm. Never. I was saving it for you."

"Oh yeah, right."

"Why, have you?"

"Just a couple of times. And I really thought I was. But now I know better." 

"That's good enough for me." Ben leaned over and kissed Tamara's mouth. 

Tamara reached down. "You're still so hard." 

Ben reached between Tamara's legs. "You're still wet." 

"God, won't you please fuck me now?" 

Ben made one last attack on the girl's breasts. "Should I get something?" he asked, meaning protection.

Tamara understood. "No. We're ready now." 

"Fuck yes we are." 

"I love saying the word 'fuck,' Ben, I really love it. It's one of my favorite words." 

"What are your other favorite words?"

"Rosemary... and sedimentary." 

"Those are good words." Ben crawled between Tamara's spread legs. He pressed himself against her as they kissed again. The heat was turned up in the house, but the temperature outside had risen slightly during the day, and now the lovers were beginning to sweat, which Ben liked very much. He kissed Tamara, over and over, deeper and deeper, working her into a frenzy, until at last he reached down and aimed the head of his dick against her swollen, cream-covered opening. 

"We were supposed to take it slow," Ben whispered. 

"Fine," Tamara said. "Fuck me slow." 

Ben buried his face in Tamara's neck as he slid his cock along the moist passage. He knew it was unlikely, but he couldn't remember ever being this hard and thick before sex. His pulsing cock pushed against the girl's vulva. He expected at least some resistance, big as he was and considering the normal negotiations involved in penetration, but as it turned out, Tamara was so dripping wet, and she had greased his pole so successfully, that he required every ounce of his willpower not to fully embed himself on the very first stroke. 

"Ahhhhh-uhhhhh," Tamara moaned with pleasure. She grabbed Ben's shoulders, desperate to find purchase, as her legs spreads slightly more open. Every part of her wanted Ben inside her.

Ben realized with a little shock that he had never before been so attentive during the sex act. Sometimes, when he didn't really know the girl that well (four of his six one-night stands, to be precise), he usually just wanted to get the sex over with, not really remembering why he'd looked forward to it in the first place. Other times, like with steady girlfriends in high school, he had taken more time, trying to savor the pleasure of a warm pussy wrapped around his hard dick. But tonight, he delighted in every part of Tamara's body, and in every inch of her smooth, squeezing vagina. He was desperate to make that first moment last, to make the first stroke the longest, deepest stroke of the night, and he knew without asking that Tamara felt the exact same way. 

Gasping, panting, the lovers required a full six minutes before Ben penis made its way fully inside the girl. When his balls reached her anus, and the head of his cock was lodged deep inside the passage between her abdomen muscles and her uterus, Tamara started breathing normally again. Then Ben gave her a good thrust, then waited, then thrust again. 

"Slow enough?" Ben asked sweetly. 

"Oh... uh... uh-huh... uh..." was Tamara's incoherent response. She pressed her feet flat against the mattress and squashed her wet pussy up against the boy with all her might, mostly letting him control the strokes. Ben listened closely to the girl as he fucked her, savoring each moan, each breath, like a drop of chocolate on the back of his tongue. Her hands mostly hovered mindlessly around the small of his back and the top of his ass. "Oooooooh," she sometimes cooed in a trembling voice, and her pelvis would shiver, and the muscles in her pussy would tighten. This in turn made Ben groan and thrust harder once or twice. He remained hard, Tamara remained wet, and they fucked slowly in that way for a very long time, perhaps half-an-hour. 

Then all of a sudden, but not unexpectedly, Tamara started bucking underneath Ben's body. "Yeah, yeah, oh yeah," she whispered. Ben enjoyed the added vigor, and he pulled his knees up under his weight so he could fuck her harder. "My god," Tamara moaned, "Uh, uh, uh, uh, oh my, ah ah, yes, yes, oh yes..." 

Ben felt the beginnings of his second orgasm. "I want to cum with you," he said. 

"I want that too," Tamara said between moans. 

"Are you close?" 

"Ah, ah, ah, ah, I've, ah, ah, ah, I've been close, ah, ah, ah, UH, uh UH, awa, ah, ah..." 

"Then let's fuck for real." 

"Fuck me, Benjamin." Tamara grabbed her own tits and swallowed a huge blast of air. 

Ben put it to her with force. The sloppy, wet sounds between their crotches grew louder, joined now by the slapping of sweaty skin. Ben's penis felt fantastically hot inside Tamara, and the level of friction was perfect. Just as he tightened his body to brace for ejaculation, he felt Tamara's legs crushing his sides, heard her scream. "AHHHHHH! Ahh AHHHHH! Oh my GOD, my GOD, FUCK! Oh! Oh! Oh yeah! Oh ye-e-e-ah..." Her moans descended into tired laughter as she slapped limply at Ben's taut arms. Ben growled against Tamara's wet neck as the sperm shot out of him. With each rope he delivered, he pushed deeper inside the girl, hoping to poke all the way up to her stomach if she'd let him. In the end, as his jaw began to quiver and the strength disappeared from his arms, he felt Tamara pull his full weight down on top of her.