While She was Sleeping

In college, I had crushes on several of my female friends, but I didn't really understand it. I would be deep in denial of my bisexuality for another decade and a half at this point. 

Stephanie was a polar opposite to me in many ways: outgoing where I was shy, sporty where I was bookish, confident where I was awkward and unsure. We became close in the college theatre and worked on plays together, and I always enjoyed sneaking a look at her while we changed in the dressing room. She was toned from a lifetime of sports, but still curvy and soft, with beautiful full breasts with large brown nipples that made me bite my lip against the desire to take them into my mouth. (How could it have escaped me how much I was into girls? Denial is a crazy thing.)

After one of our plays, we had a cast party at someone's off-campus house, and everyone got a little overly tipsy. Most of the night was a blur to me, but I remember distinctly one moment where I was telling some kind of joke to a group of my friends. The punchline involved me dropping to my knees in front of where Stephanie sat on the sofa, pushing her legs apart to pretend to go down on her. Everyone laughed as Stephanie squealed and giggled at the unexpected attention. As I kneeled there, enjoying the moment in the spotlight and the pride at making my friends laugh, I kept my hands on her legs and realized how warm her body heat was. I was nearer to her than I'd ever been. Kneeling this close, I could faintly smell her pussy when I breathed in. The scent made me feel drunker than all the alcohol I'd already had that whole evening. My heart sped up as my own pussy began tingling at the scent and the nearness of her. I could so easily picture myself running my hands up her thighs, hooking my fingers into her waistband, peeling her jeans and panties off, burying my face into that sweet scent. (Again...how did I not realize...straight girls don't have these desires...I was so stupid.) I quickly realized I couldn't linger there any longer without being incredibly awkward. So with a stab of regret I joined in the laughter and stood up again, and plopped down on the sofa next to her. Stephanie threw her arm around me and gave me a laughing hug. "You're so crazy," she said. She had no idea.

Later that evening, the party wound down. Half the guests left and returned to campus, but several of us decided to just crash there for the night. I found myself in one of the bedrooms, sharing a bed with Stephanie. We talked for a little while in the dark, and then she passed out fairly quickly. I stayed awake, the room in the dark spinning a bit from all the drinks, listening to her slow breaths next to me. All my wishful fantasies unraveled, the sweet kisses in the dark I'd halfway dared to hope for. But my body didn't get the message of my disappointment. The desire that had been tingling within me earlier buzzed to life again as I replayed the moment when I kneeled between her legs. In the bed next to her, I couldn't keep myself from squirming as my horniness grew. I could feel my pussy aching to be touched. I tried to sleep, but with the needy throbbing between my legs, there was no way I would be passing out anytime soon. 

I listened intently in the dimness, but the even rhythm of her sleeping breaths stayed the same. Nervously I kept my eyes on her as I slowly rolled over. At the time, I had only learned to make myself cum by lying on my tummy and humping my fingers. It was inconvenient when trying to do it in my dorm room while my roommate slept, and it seemed impossibly dangerous to try it with Stephanie directly next to me in the same bed. But I was driven by the recklessness of drinking and the desperate ache in my pussy. I had to cum. 

Her face was tipped slightly toward me on her pillow, and I stared hard at her closed eyes to try to detect any movement as I slid my hand underneath me and began grinding my hips down onto my hand. As my fingers stroked my aching clit, I pressed my mouth closed tight against a moan. I couldn't remember ever feeling this desperate in my life. The terror of being caught was the only thing that kept me from grinding with total abandon. I kept my movements slow and small, trying to flex my muscles as imperceptibly as possible. My wetness seeped out onto my hand with each tiny movement. I was more turned on than I could ever remember being before in my entire life. Every time my eyes tried to close in pleasure, a burst of fear pushed them open again so I could watch her face. I thought at any moment she was going to open her eyes and catch me. But her breathing pattern never changed. 

I got into a steady rhythm. I pressed my hips down, driving my clit into my fingers, then relaxed my muscles for a second before pressing down again. I wanted to moan with the frustration of not being able to just fuck away against the mattress like I wanted. I thought I would never get there with this slow, gentle rocking. My clit throbbed beneath my touch as it slid against my hand, slick with my warm juices. It seemed to take forever, but at last my pussy started twitching. I sped up my humping as much as I dared, and the orgasm took hold. I lost control and started bucking into my hand, pressing my face into the pillow to muffle my moans as the pleasure exploded within my pussy in rapid contractions. I came so hard, I forgot for a moment where I was.

In terror, I looked up from the pillow. Stephanie's face, which had been turned only slightly in my direction when I started cumming, seemed now to be turned further in my direction. I froze, holding my breath, studying her closely. Her breathing was still slow and even. Her eyes were still closed. I didn't move for the longest time. I lay there with my hand still pressed to my soaked pussy that still twitched faintly in the last twinges of my orgasm. Stephanie's breathing never changed, her eyes never opened. After an eternity I felt brave enough to pull my hand out from under me and roll over onto my back. After a long time of staring toward the ceiling and listening to her breathe, I eventually drifted off. 

The next morning, Stephanie was already awake when I got up. She acted perfectly normal when I joined her in the kitchen, and our drive back to the college was uneventful. I analyzed every word she said to me to try to detect some knowledge of what I'd been up to right next to her, but nothing she said or did was out of the ordinary. She never brought it up, I never mentioned it, and nothing, sadly, ever happened between us.

I still wonder about it. The way her position changed after I had cum seems so suspicious. I like to imagine an alternate reality where she did wake up, where she saw me touching myself, where she wanted to touch me too. I can so clearly picture the feeling of her hand sliding over my grinding ass, dipping between my legs, taking over my touches. I still precisely remember the sweet smell of her pussy when I dropped to my knees before her, and sometimes I let that fantasy run wild as I touch myself and imagine what might have been.