At the end of their conversation, nothing was really resolved, and feeling just as disappointed and frustrated as ever, the two women got even closer and hugged. The young woman buries her face in her friend’s chest, as her friend gently strokes her hair and back.
The way her face was positioned against her friend’s chest, she was aware of how close her mouth was to her nipple. Her friend was wearing a tank top to bed, and she knew if she was able to pull it down even a little, all she’d have to do would be to stick out her tongue to start caressing her areola. She began imagining how she would make tiny circles with her tongue, how she’d start gently flicking the end until it became hard and she could gently suck and play with it. As these fantasies overcame her, she felt the heat spreading in her. She moved in closer, she couldn’t help it. Her desire was so strong. She wanted to feel her body pressed up against her friend’s, as close as possible.
Throwing caution to the wind, she asked, “is it okay if we cuddle again? I just really want to feel someone touch me right now, I’m sort of starving for contact.” She took her friend's hand and placed it under her tank top. “Just so you can really feel me.”
It was too much. She couldn’t remember a time when she’d ever felt this aroused. “Just touch me. Touch me all over,” she said. Her friend readily complied. She sat up, pulled her top down, and grabbed both of her large breasts this time. She began rubbing them and playing with her nipples. Then she reached down and began sucking on them, using her tongue on her nipples in the exact same way she had fantasized about doing earlier.
Later, after much more play, her friend smiled and said, slightly out of breath, “what are friends for?”
That was then. Now the chemicals are depleted. Lust is gone from my wrinkled face. I feel empty.