Chapter 6: Interlude I

I wake up in darkness with an insistent pressure in my bladder.

For a minute, I feel like there are two realities in superposition. I’m in my bed in my apartment and I’m the same boring dude I’ve always been. There’s probably a cat sleeping somewhere near my feet. I’m also in an unfamiliar bed in a strange house after some very bizarre events.

I fumble for my phone on the bed next to me. My hand finds it and I pick it up. As I bring it up to my face, my upper arm brushes a boob and reality collapses to a single state: the weird one.

I squint at the light of my phone screen. 2:19.

My bladder demands my urgent attention, so I extricate myself from the covers I’m tangled up in and stumble to the door. I’m a little sweaty, so I shed my flannel as I go. The hallway is dark, but there’s a light coming from under the door of what I assume is one of the other bedrooms.

I make it to the bathroom that June showed me earlier. There’s a nightlight inside, so I don’t have to turn on the light.

I stand in front of the toilet and in my barely-awake state it takes me longer than it should to realize that’s not going to work at all. Rather than deal with the awkwardness of trying to keep it out of the toilet, I step out of my skirt before sitting down.

Taking care of business is more straightforward than I feared, although wiping is more involved, and I feel much better. After washing my hands and taking a drink from the sink, I decide to not put the skirt back on. It occurs to me that I could probably lose the bralette as well, so I take off my tee, extract myself from the bralette, and pull my tee back on. That feels better, although jigglier.

When I gather up the discarded clothing and step out of the bathroom, the other bedroom door is open and Anya’s solid figure is silhouetted in the light of a bedside lamp.

“You okay?” she asks.

“Yeah, just needed to pee,” I answer.

“Do you need anything else?” She takes a step outside her room and now I can see that she’s wearing only boxers and a thin tank.

“I think I’m good?”

Anya takes another step and then another. Now she’s leaning against the doorframe of my room. I’m going to have to squeeze past her to get back to bed.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” she says.

“You’ve already apologized. I forgive you. I guess I needed to deal with that sooner or later. Maybe not the timeline I would have chosen, but, like, I’d already put it off way too long?” I put my hand on the doorknob and then I hear my stupid mouth say, “Anyway, I’m sure you can make it up to me.”

“I’d love to,” Anya breathes.

Holy shit. Her words completely bypass my higher brain functions and go straight to my crotch, sending sparks throughout my nervous system along the way.

I turn toward her. Her mouth is inches away. I look into eyes that are darker than I remember, with oval pupils like mine.

I lick my lips and can’t help but stare at hers. I realize that I want nothing more right now than for her to kiss me.

Oh, what the hell. I close the distance.

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Our lips meet and Anya responds instantly, fiercely. Her hands find my waist and one begins to slide upward but stops with a thumb just a little below my breast.

I wrap my arms around her and pull her close. I sneak one hand inside her tank and knead the powerful muscles of her back. My ass hits the door and I can feel the wood creaking behind me as Anya presses into me. I wiggle a bit as she does and the sensation of my nipples against her firm body is indescribable.

My lips part to gentle pressure and her tongue slips inside my mouth. It somehow feels a little different than I expect, but not at all in a bad way, so I simply enjoy it.

I don’t know how long we kiss. I lose myself in Anya’s mouth and hands and strength.

My knees wobble and almost buckle. Anya quickly shifts her hands to support me and then she slowly pulls away.

“Please…” I whimper. I don’t know what I’m asking for. Probably whatever she wants.

“The things I would love to do to you right now,” Anya says huskily. “But with everything you’ve just been through, I’d feel like I was taking advantage of you.”

“I think I’d be okay with that,” I whisper.

“Maybe.” She pauses. “I wouldn’t.”

Her lips brush my forehead and then she looks into my eyes for what could be a few seconds or a few hours. “Let’s revisit this when you’ve had time to adjust. Sleep well.”

I have absolutely no idea how to respond, so I mumble a good night and stagger into the guest room and into bed.

Without conscious thought, my hand drifts down to my crotch, slipping into my underwear. I cup the gentle mound that I find and press lower with my fingers. I’m already dripping, so they slide easily inside and then back out with a lazy rhythm.

My other hand is slowly squeezing my breast. I circle the nipple with my thumb and gasp as a wave of pleasure washes over me.

I slowly increase speed and pressure with both hands. Pleasure builds slower than I’m used to, but it feels deeper, suffusing my whole body instead of centered on where I’m touching myself.

I come long and hard, my back arching as I bite my lower lip to keep from crying out. I can feel my eyes roll back and I’m probably whimpering.

“Fuck,” I pant.

I feel utterly spent and am soon fast asleep once more.

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