Gemma had been my best friend for as long as I could remember, my dearest confidant, my soul mate. When I discovered my sexuality as a teenager, she was the first person that I told about it. She never judged me any differently because of it. It had never crossed her mind how my orientation would have anything to do with our friendship. Gemma and I were the best of mates, and nothing could ever break us apart.

The worst day of my life was the day that I fell in love with her, merely a few years afterwards. Knowing that she could never reciprocate my feelings, I stopped talking to her. She tried telling me that I had hurt her deeply, but what she did not know was that it must had been nothing compared to the heartbreak that I felt.

It took her one month to find out what was going on. The day that she told me she had, found out what was going on, I meant, was also the best day of my life.

It was the winter break of our junior year at college. The break gave me the opportunity to avoid her without having to bump into her in classes and so on. Staying at home also meant that I had the time to reevaluate my feelings.

I had just decided to stop loving her, not for the first time, when she came knocking on my apartment door that night.

I was having a Gilmore Girls marathon on Netflix, not expecting anyone to interrupt at all. Reluctantly, I put away my laptop and the bowl of popcorn. And when I saw that it was her, I knew that I had no choice but to face her for once and for all.

She was not smiling. The look on her face was one of determination, like she was on a mission, a quest, so uncharacteristic of her usual cheery self that I was momentarily at a loss for words.

And she kissed me. It was slow at first, tentative, inviting. Am I right, Penny? her kisses seemed to be asking, Am I right about you? As I kissed her back, I felt a smile on her lips. She pulled me closer, her hands tangled in my lengthy brown curls, on my neck, so close I could feel her heartbeat racing along with mine. The familiar smell of sweetness that she emanated was making it hard for me to think.

“People might be watching,” I breathed between kisses.

She opened her eyes, and smirked. “Well then, let them.” And slipped her hand under my shirt to unclasp my bra and both its straps.

“Gemma!”

“Hush, hush,” she said, and trailed kisses along my jaw and down my collarbone, and neck. My bra, in all its pink frilly glory, dropped onto the floor with a dull thud. As if sensing my fear, she finally pulled away and closed the door behind her. The instant she left I felt the cold where her skin had been. Every part of my brain screamed at me to walk away. This isn't right. But something about it did feel perfectly right. I was hungry for more.

“Well, well, what have we got here?” she asked playfully as she returned to me, tracing her finger along my small breasts, my stomach (she knew I was ticklish; I giggled), my hips, and finally, teasingly slowly, lifted off my shirt.

I stared at her, taking in every last bit of detail, as I hadn't able to for the past few weeks: her golden locks, her freckled face, her soft brown eyes, the small, barely visible scar on her chin she got when she fell whilst cheerleading in high school, her large, pale breasts, still covered by layers upon layers of clothing I was itching to remove.

Standing half naked before her, suddenly self-conscious, I almost wanted to cover myself up.

“No, don’t,” she said softly, lifting my hands off my breasts.

“They’re beautiful.”

And as if to prove that to me, she cupped the both of them with her hands, and pinched my nipples. I drew in a breath.

“Your nipples are hard,” she whispered into my ear, and took off her coat, her sweater, her skirt, her shoes. She had on that black bra her ex-boyfriend bought her last Christmas that was so small it barely covered up her nipples. She was wearing white lace tights and a red thong. Intentionally wanton, but it worked on me, and she knew it.

She bit her lip, only acting her part as the lustful lover. But still I let her push me onto the sofa, spread open my legs, straddle me, and slip her fingers down my panties.

Her lips curled into a smile as she fingered me. “Oh, you’re wet.”

I closed my eyes, and bit my lip to suppress a moan as she rubbed my clit faster and faster.

Finally I could not help it anymore. I reached down and pushed her fingers into my pussy. She smiled knowingly and started penetrating me. With two at first, then three – steadily, then with more urgency. I arched my back, grasping the edge of the leather sofa as I felt myself coming close to an orgasm.

And there it was. I could feel the tremble from my core to the toes on my feet. I was biting my lips so hard I could almost taste the blood on my lips, but at that moment there was no holding back. I screamed and gasped out her name, a desperate prayer.

She leaned down on me, her fingers wet from my cum, unceasing in her fingering. Slowing down now, however, just soothingly rubbing my pussy. “Hush now, my dear,” and effectively shut me up with kisses, on my mouth, on my nipple, and a final one on my lower lip, a lick.

I covered my sweat-gleaned face with an arm, my breath still shaky from the orgasm. “Where have you learnt all this?” I asked, turning my head over to look at her.

She curled up next to me, as if we were just in another slumber party. Sucking the remnants of my juice from her fingers, she said, “The past two weeks, I watched a fuck-ton of lesbian pornography.”

“But I thought…”

Suddenly serious, she said, “Anything for you, Penny.”

It was at that moment, watching her staring at the ceiling of my apartment, her fingers on her stomach still wet with my cum, that I thought I would never love anyone as much as I loved my best friend Gemma.

I got up, dripping with cum, and crawled across the floor until I reached between her legs. “Let me get down on you,” I plead.

She sat up, and watched me remove her red thong.

My eyes never once left hers.

I rested both my hands on her pale thighs, pulled her closer, and buried my face in her Garden of Eden.

Her pussy was already wet as I began licking it. I drank down her juice, and attacked her clit with all the force my tongue could muster.

“Oh, Penny, give it to me,” She moaned, as she pushed my head deeper into her sweet pussy, again and again.

I sucked and licked, with increasing speed, until I could feel her quivering, quaking. And I drew back, using three fingers to rub her wet clit as hard and fast as I could, so as to match her growing desire.

And at last, shivering all over, after one hard kiss on my lips –

Her eyes widened as she pulled away.

And she fell back against the sofa, and squirted.

I smiled, gratified. And I lied down next to her, resting my head against her shoulder. We both laughed, as we never laughed before. Both naked, glowing after an orgasm, we were beautiful, happy, and in love.