otherworlderotic
The morning seeps in, rays of sunlight filtering through cracks in the curtains. I stir, the comforting warmth of the blankets coaxing me back to sleep. But then, I become aware of the body curled up against mine, and my heart skips a beat.
Amy. I'm spooning Amy.
The realization sends a thrill down my spine, the intimacy of our position whirling through my mind. I can feel the curve of her body against mine, her backside pressing into my stomach. We fit together perfectly, like two pieces of a puzzle.
My arm is draped over her waist, my hand just barely grazing the soft fabric of her pajama shirt. Underneath my fingers, I can feel the gentle rise and fall of her chest.
I can't resist the urge to bury my face in her hair, inhaling the sweet scent of her. Her hair envelopes my face, a curtain of soft warmth that shields us from the world. Our bare legs are entangled, warm against each other under the sheets.
The feel of her in my arms, the heat of her body against mine, sends a wave of arousal through me. I want her, I realize. Not just in the physical sense, but in every way possible. But there's also a sense of comfort, a feeling of rightness that I've never experienced before. It's as if everything in my life has been leading up to this moment, this beautiful morning with Amy in my arms.
I tighten my grip on her, my fingers tracing the lace of her shirt. She stirs, her body pressing back into mine, and I hold my breath. I want her to wake up, to move, to touch me. But I’m scared, what if she wakes up and pulls away? I don’t want this to end.
As the morning light grows brighter, I lie there, holding Amy, my thoughts a whirlwind.
I allow my hand to travel downward, tracing a path along her side until I reach her bare thigh. The skin there is smooth, hot to the touch under the blankets. I run my fingers along her thigh, marveling at the way she feels. So soft, so delightful.
Amy stirs, a sigh escaping her lips as she presses back against me. The sensation of her body moving against mine… the intensity of the moment is too much, the line between friendship and something more becoming blurred. With a sudden surge of nervousness, I extract my arm from around her. I move away, the loss of contact like a physical blow.
A few inches separate us now, and I already want to go back. I can’t risk it, so I just tuck the blankets around her, ensuring she's warm and comfortable. Amy doesn't wake from my movements. She continues to sleep peacefully, oblivious to the turmoil of emotions raging within me.
I watch her, my heart in my throat. The morning light illuminates her face, accentuating the curve of her cheek, the arch of her brow. She looks content in her sleep, and my heart aches with affection.
Holy crap. It hits me like the shafts of sunlight breaking through the window. I'm smitten. Completely, totally, irrevocably smitten. It's a terrifying thought. I’m the horny one, not the smitten one! I have a brand to protect!
It’s undeniable: My feelings for Amy are no longer just a crush or a fleeting attraction. They're real, deep, and all-consuming. They have been for a while, and I’ve been shoving them away. Over, and over.
Unsure of how to confront whatever this is inside me, I slip on some shorts and quietly glide out of the room, leaving Amy to her slumber. The wood floorboards of the cabin are cold under my feet as I shuffle to the great room.
Ethan is there, the smell of fresh coffee filling the air. He pours me a cup without a word, a knowing smile on his face. I take the hot mug gratefully, the warmth seeping into my hands.
“Hey Ethan, good morning,” I mumble, gratefully accepting the cup of coffee.
Ethan looks at me inquisitively, lips pursed. I give him a smile, but I think I do a pretty shitty job at hiding the fraught emotions behind it.
"The cabin's a bit cold this morning," Ethan says nonchalantly, sipping his coffee. "I was actually just going to take a solo dip in the hot tub while everyone else slept in. Care to join me?" He gestures down at his swim trunks.
“Yeah, you know what, that sounds good,” I say. I don’t want to risk waking Amy, so I just shrug out of my shirt and shorts. My bra and panties will make a fine makeshift swimsuit. I follow Ethan out in my skivvies as he pulls off his shirt. The sight of the hot tub brings back memories with Amy. I flush, both from embarrassment and my drunken behavior, and from the memory of Amy’s skin against mine.
In a few moments, we're settled in the hot tub, our coffees resting on the side. The warm water feels great against the cool morning air, the steam rising in tendrils around us. We sit in comfortable silence, the only sound the gentle bubbling of the water. Ethan’s pointed words pull me out of my reverie.
"Dude, so, when are you going to stop leading Amy on?" he asks. The question catches me off guard, my heart pounding in my chest. I look at him, surprised.
"What?” I reply, trying to keep my voice steady. “I mean, things are getting complicated between us, but leading her on? I have no idea what you're talking about.". Ethan just raises his eyebrows, an incredulous look on his face.
"Really?" he says, his tone laced with disbelief. "Amy's obsessed with you. She watches you, you know. And any time you give her attention, she lights up like a Christmas tree. What’s complicated about that?"
His words hang in the air, heavy and undeniable. I fall silent, my mind racing. It's true. I've seen the way Amy looks at me, the brightness in her eyes when we're together. I don’t know. Was I denying it? Was I just oblivious? More pieces of the puzzle start to slot in place as, in real time, I overcome whatever block I had.
"I guess you’re right,” I start. “So in Amy's story, the one she’s been writing for me, there's a dominant and energetic redhead..."
Ethan laughs, a hearty sound that echoes through the quiet morning air. "She's even writing you love letters!" he says, his amusement clear. “Fanfic. About you!”
I can't help but blush, the reality of the situation sinking in. Amy has feelings for me. And I... I have feelings for her. Ethan’s shit-eating grin is not helping.
“And for the record, I have no idea what Amy sees in you, you’re crazy.” His teasing tone pulls me out of my thoughts. I scowl at him playfully, splashing him with the water. He just laughs.
“There’s my friend Jo. Why are you so down this morning?”
“I… I think,” I look down, tracing paths through the water with my finger, “I’ve got the hots for Amy. And I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what that means.”
Ethan's expression turns serious. "Well, Jo, whatever you do, you need to be careful," he says, his voice firm. "You could hurt Amy. Whether you intend it or not, you're leading her on. You need to either set a boundary, or...unleash your full sapphic energy."
His words strike a chord within me, the thrum of truth setting off harmonics in my soul. I've been avoiding this situation for far too long, and it's time to face it head on.
"We cuddled last night," I confess, my voice barely above a whisper. "But nothing more."
Ethan smiles at this, a genuine smile with no trace of irony. "You two are so cute."
I return his smile, despite the nervous energy coursing through me. "I'm attracted to Amy," I admit, the words sounding strange to my own ears. "But, the whole idea of being with a girl... it's weird and scary."
Ethan nods, understanding flashing in his eyes. "For you and me both," he says. I bark out a laugh.
Ethan falls silent, his gaze focused on the rising steam from the hot tub. I watch him, sensing his need for space and giving it to him. His brow furrows slightly as he reflects, lost in his own thoughts.
Finally, he speaks. "I've never had, like, ‘issues’ being gay," he confesses. "I mean, like with other people. Sure, there was some bullying, but it was never too bad. My parents were accepting, and my dating life has been generally fun."
He smiles to himself, a soft, private smile. "Honestly, the worst part might be not having an exciting, dramatic coming out story. When I was a teen, I was actually kind of jealous of not having any drama to brag about and share. I wanted that badge of honor, that experience of overcoming adversity. I didn’t have it."
"That's good… I guess?" I respond, unsure of what else to say.
He nods, his smile still present. "Yes, it was good," he affirms. His gaze meets mine. "So I don't have that much advice when it comes to coming out and experimenting. But maybe just try taking it slow?"
He pauses, considering his next words carefully. "If Amy turns you on, then you know you're attracted to her. I guess it’s that simple. You don't have to..." He trails off, a cheeky grin spreading across his face. "I don't know, engage in whatever the most intense lesbian sex act is that I'm too gay to know about."
We laugh together, and I give him a playful nudge with my foot under the water. He grins at me. We sit in silence for a bit, enjoying the morning. It’s peaceful out here. Too quiet. I miss the city. It’s good for moments of reflection like this, I guess. I don’t do this “reflection” thing very much, and for obvious reasons. It totally sucks.
All that said, I don't have to rush it. Ethan’s right. Taking it slow, figuring out my feelings for Amy at my own pace – it's reassuring advice, and I'm grateful for Ethan's understanding and support. It’s not my style, but it might work.
"That's actually really helpful, Ethan," I tell him.
He smiles, a soft, knowing smile. "I know," he replies, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "You're not exactly known for your subtlety, Jo. Maybe give it a shot for once."
I give him a smirk and a pouty face. But he’s right. Maybe subtlety is exactly what I need right now.
Just as I'm about to respond, Amy appears on the deck, wrapped in a blanket from the great room, her hair tousled from sleep. "Good morning," she says.
"Good morning, Amy," I say back, meeting her gaze, feeling emboldened. There's a moment, a silent exchange between us that speaks volumes.
“Hey, who made the coffee? Can I have a cup?” Amy asks.
Ethan laughs. "Of course, you’re sweet for asking, Amy. Help yourself."
“Thanks Ethan, and thanks for making the coffee,” Amy turns to me, and looks like she’s about to say something. But then she just smiles, and heads back inside.
Ethan and I exchange glances, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "See," he says, "Subtlety. Amy’s already an elegant master."
I laugh, the sound echoing through the quiet morning air. Subtlety, huh? Let’s give it a shot.
I can always go back to “feisty Jo” any time I damn well please.
≋ ≋ ≋
"Look what I didddddd!" Caleb's flamboyant declaration draws my attention to the perfectly packed trunk of the Mini. Caleb stands beside the efficiently stacked luggage, a triumphant grin on his face as he proudly showcases his packing prowess.
“Well, it was a lot easier without all the beer and food! And now, Amy doesn't have to sit on Jo's lap on the way back," he says, his tone filled with satisfied accomplishment. He snaps once in the air for emphasis. “Comfort!” He declares.
I try to hide my disappointment, forcing a smile onto my face. I was totally looking forward to having her pressed against me the whole trip. And the bumpy ride out…
"Oh, great," Amy responds, her voice barely masking the fact that she feels the same. The enthusiasm she attempts to infuse into her words falls flat, a clear indicator of her true feelings. That makes two of us.
Amy and I pile into the back, followed by the boys in the front. “Goodbye, my darling dearest,” Caleb says, waving dramatically at the cabin as Ethan pulls the Mini out of the driveway and onto the dirt road.
Just like on the way in, the Mini has a rough time of it. We lurch along slowly, and I turn my head to look at Amy. She looks back at me, smiling conspiratorially. I give her a grin back, glad at least that she’s thinking about the same thing I am.
After a short while we find ourselves back on paved roads, and we all settle in for the trip. We pass through forests and rock outcroppings, our morning melting away as we drive. I gaze out the window, watching as we move to roads with progressively more lanes and faster speed limits. A podcast about cuttlefish or something plays in the background, but I don’t give it any attention. All my thoughts are of Amy.
She plays through my mind, her smile, the feel of her. I want to share a bed with her every night. I want to feel her warmth against me. I want to play my fingers along the smooth skin of her arms. I want her to touch me, to put her palm against my cheek and pull me in for a kiss…
I look away from the window, turning my attention to her. She’s looking out her own window, a hand under her chin, arm supported by the arm rest. Her other hand, though, is on the middle seat between us, awkwardly lying limp.
Without thinking too much, I take my hand and also put it in the middle seat, the position not exactly natural for a long car ride. Our hands sit just a few inches apart now. I’m staring at her hand, eyes glued to that tiny distance that separates us. My heart is racing, and over such a silly thing.
Her hand twitches, and inches ever so slightly towards mine. She’s turned away from the window now, and is looking straight ahead. I do the same, inching my hand a little bit towards hers. My heart is hammering in my chest now.
Another small movement toward mine. There’s a quarter inch separating us now, and I feel like my hand is on fire. My eyes drill a hole into the headrest in front of me, but my entire attention is located at the tips of my fingers. Suddenly, the Mini lurches, an imperfection in the road jarring its delicate suspension. The bump knocks Amy’s fingers into mine, closing the final distance.
Her pinky is on top of mine, a high voltage wire pouring current straight into my heart. I swear I can feel her heart through the tip of her finger, hammering away at the same speed as mine.
I can’t take it any more.
In a single confident move, I reach out and take her hand, intertwining my fingers with hers. Amy's response is immediate and firm, her fingers lacing through mine in kind. This simple action is the only thing I’ve ever seen her do so confidently.
Our hands fit together perfectly. A sigh escapes my lips, and I swear I can hear a mirrored exhale from her.
We sit there, our hands held together on the middle seat, our bodies turned subtly in toward each other. Neither of us dares to look at the other, our eyes are focused on anything but the other’s face. My mind is buzzing.
I feel high!
The car continues its journey, the hum of the engine a soothing backdrop to our silent confession. The touch of her hand in mine is electrifying, every nerve ending alive and sparking. Against all odds, this thing, this silly little thing… it feels like the most important connection in the world.
Slowly, Amy begins to run her thumb across the back of my hand. Her touch is feather-light, but it sends jolts of electricity crackling up my arm. I squeeze her hand in response, a silent plea for more. Amy responds in kind, her grip tightening gently. Her finger continues its lazy transit, setting my nerves on fire.
Underneath the drone of the podcast and the hum of the car engine, the world slows down. It's just us, and the steady thrum of our hearts, and the warmth of her hand in mine. The touch of her thumb on my hand is a tiny spark that ignites a wildfire within me.
We stay like that for the rest of the drive, our fingers exploring and caressing, the boys none the wiser.
≋ ≋ ≋
“Bing bong,” Ethan imitates the sound of the London Tube announcement chime, “This stop: Crazy Jo.” Ethan hits the brakes abruptly for comedic effect as we pull in at the West Dorms. The motion jostles us all, hastening the speed at which Amy and I disentangle our hands.
“Ladies,” Caleb says as he steps out of the car, folding forward the seat. Amy’s out first, with me short on her tail.
We’re all a bit worn out from the weekend and the drive. Amy and I both stand on the curb, not quite knowing what to do with each other as Ethan pops the trunk and Caleb grabs my bag.
“Well, I’ll uh, have some more pages for you to read in the Adaric and Bren story soon, I think,” Amy says lamely, clearly trying to fill the air.
I could say a million things back. Hell, I’m Jo. I could get away with saying anything. I could invite her up to my room right now, I could make a crude joke, I could just lean in and kiss her right this second…
“Yeah, that’d be great. I can’t wait to read them.” Oh, or I could say that.
The boys are hanging back, giving us some space. They’re pretending to talk about something, but I know Caleb is surreptitiously paying attention, straining for a word. Amy looks up at me, her cheeks rosy, a genuine smile on her face.
“I… the drive was nice,” she says, looking down sheepishly. Oh my god she’s so cute I want to die. “Could we maybe hang out soon?”
“Yeah!” I say, the interaction feeling stilted. I just look into her eyes and smile.
Before I can get in my head about it, I step forward and pull her into a hug. I feel her stiffen in surprise for an instant, and then immediately melt into my arms. Her body molds up against mine in an intimate, personal embrace. Her arms wrap tightly around my waist, holding me close.
We hold like that for a moment, her face buried in the crook of my neck. I feel her breath lightly against my chest as she exhales, a soft sound passing through her lips. I want her to pepper my chest with kisses, her tongue working down my cleavage… She pulls back, and we look into each other’s eyes for a moment. It’s so intense I can barely look at her.
Then, easy as that, she smiles, pulling away as her fingers trail down my arm to find my hand. She pulls it with her for just a moment as she steps away. I don’t want to let her go, but she lets her hand continue with her momentum, slipping through my fingers as my arm extends toward her. It drops back to my side as she moves out of range.
She casts a mischievous glance over her shoulder. “Text me soon, ok?” With that, she disappears into the back seat of the Mini.
I’m left standing there dumbfounded on the curb.
Holy shit, Amy’s got some spice in her! All things too-lesbian-for-Ethan-to-possibly-know-about flash through my mind.
I gather my wits and turn to look at the boys. Ethan has the most self-satisfied smile on his face. Caleb is flashing me a double thumbs up.
I flush crimson.
Oh, this is how I make people feel…
