"Thank you for the birthday presents. They were wonderful. And it was fun." With that, Amy closed her eyes and leaned to me. Our lips met, tongues touching for the briefest of moments. I leaned forward, trying to prolong the contact as she pulled back slowly. Amy gave me another gentle kiss, leaving just a hint of her wonderful flavor on the tip of my tongue. "Good night. See you soon.", she said, climbing into her car. She left me standing with a false smile on my face, and forbidden thoughts struggling to reach my consciousness. Friends? No, more. Lovers? No, considerably less, my hopes and efforts notwithstanding. I had just held a private (just the two of us) birthday celebration for her. We had watched, through the magic of video tape, "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" (her favorite). I had hidden several small gifts through my place and sent her on a treasure hunt, complete with obscure, but decipherable clues. We talked a lot as we always seem to. Communication is rarely a problem between us. The events of the fairly recent past that had threatened our relationship seemed all but forgotten. Due to a strange set of circumstances, we had slept together in my bed for a week as just friends about a month before her birthday. We spent more time in each other's company than ever before, essentially living together. Her roommate hadn't paid their electric bill, and their all-electric warehouse loft got mighty cold and dark as fall had turned nasty one weekend. She had stayed over in order to give me a ride to the airport at six the next morning, and I had left her the keys. This also happened to be the night before her electricity got turned off. Of course, when she found out that her place was cold and dark, she returned to mine while I was away. She picked me up from the airport when I returned, and apologized for staying while I was away. No big deal. After I had finished telling her about my trip, and cleaning up, I asked her out to dinner, since I didn't want to cook and I hate eating out alone. The trouble began during dinner when she began to talk about her week. "I don't know if I should tell you this..." I waited patiently. Amy does that a lot. Translation: I'm going to tell you about this man I went out with, because you're my _friend_. Then she paused, lowering her eyes. "You know, there's this guy I met a couple weeks ago...", and she stopped. I waited for her to finish establishing the line between us. Early on in our friendship, we had crossed that line on a couple of occasions, much to her current anxiety. Subsequent discussions revealed that while she had no regrets ("I was feeling very close to you..."), she worried about my current interpretations and plans. "OK, I met James a couple of weeks ago, and we went out. I had fun, he was pretty cool, and so I went out with him again..." Amy gingerly dragged out the last word, watching me for a sign of despair. I stayed calm. "Well, the next time we went out, that second time, he gave me this." She pulled at the heart-shaped cameo pendant attached to a gold chain that she was wearing. It had diamonds around the perimeter. "They're real. I checked.", she said, causing my eyes to bulge and my heart to sink slowly. Amy quickly resumed her story to prevent me from committing suicide with a steak knife. She explained how flattered she had been, but how she had tried to explain to the guy that it was only two dates, and she wasn't thinking about any long-term commitments. I listened, externally impassive, heart somewhere around my knees. I heard what she was saying, however, which was the cause of my discomfort. Translation: "See, you're not the only guy who's nice to me and does stuff for me and finds me attractive." Fine, it's nothing new. Unfortunately, later that evening Amy dropped the bomb. "Can I stay here until I have heat and light in my place? It's so nice and warm here. I trust you." It was definitely going to be an uncomfortable night. I only have one bed; big enough for two, but she trusted me to sleep with her and keep my body to myself. I should have said no, but one look into those gorgeous bright blue eyes stunned my common sense into silence. The night turned into seven, but true to our friendship, I never crossed the line once. I did wake up in compromising positions on a couple of occasions, however. While Amy may have been safe from my conscious actions, my unfettered subconscious left me vulnerable. Amy had rolled over one night, and I immediately woke up. Seems she had rolled on top of something. I spent a good while trying to extricate myself without waking her, and slept the rest of the week with my back to her. She moved out, because her roommate finally paid the bill. She thanked me with a gentle kiss, and promised that she would go to a party I had been invited to while she was staying at my place. She kept her promise, but halfway through the night she said "Evil." For no apparent reason. I asked her what she meant, but she said she didn't want to elaborate. Translation: "You're bugging me, and I wish you weren't here." The tension built, and as we left, she finally brought up the subject. "I have to say something. I'm beginning to feel obligated and I don't like that. I know what's on your mind, and it really hampered my evening." "Well I'm _sorry_,", I replied, voice dripping with not-quite-yet- malice, "but you look very attractive tonight. I've been in close contact with you for a long time, and I think I have every right to want you. Obviously you meet lots of men that want you, like James. Do you feel -- _obligated_ -- to them?", I asked innocently. My question may have been posed with innocence, but Amy understood the sentiment behind it, and took offense. We argued in the car, my false apologies ringing against her fallacious arguments. I slept on the floor that night, because she was too drunk to drive home. For the first time all night I got her to do something that I wanted her to. She crawled into my bed, mumbled, "Aren't you going to bed?", and fell asleep. Anyway, we didn't see each other for a few weeks after that, but she would still call me and we would talk in generalities, avoiding the issue between us. As the days went on, it became less and less of an issue. Her birthday approached, and we talked briefly about it. Amy mentioned that she didn't know what she was going to do for it, since it wasn't on a weekend, and everybody she knew seemed busy. I heard the tinge of depression in her voice; and being the close friend that I was, resolved to do something about it. I came up with the treasure hunt idea, and invited her over. Which brings me to the present. I needed another early morning ride, to the train station this time for my Christmas trip to visit family. Taxi service is expensive, and not necessarily reliable at that time of the day. All of my friends had to work that day, because it was Monday. All of them except Amy. She actually asked how I was going to get to the station, then cheerfully volunteered. "I can spend the night, and take you down there. I'll even watch your apartment while you're gone, because I still have the spare keys. That way, you don't need to go through the hassle of getting a cab that early." I accepted her generous offer (anybody willing to get up at five for that reason is generous), and waited impatiently for the departure day. She called me the Saturday before I was to leave. "Ummm, I'm not eager about getting up that early on Monday.", she said, abruptly bringing business into the discussion. I groaned inwardly. Looks like I'll be getting up and calling a cab at four in the morning. "What say...", Amy started over the phone, "What say we just go out and stay up. We can start the night at the club across the street from you and go from there?" That made a lot of sense, actually, because Amy was a night person in the truest sense of the word. I could sleep on the train, and she would just go to bed a little later than usual for her. I agreed. Sunday evening rolled around. I was all packed and ready to go, but I hadn't heard from Amy all day. Her roommate said that she hadn't been home since early that morning, and I wondered if she had spaced out our most recent plan. The phone rang at nine-thirty. "Hi. I'm sorry, but I've been running around all day, and I'm late as usual.", Amy explained, slightly out-of-breath. "Why don't I meet you at the club and we can wing it from there after they close at midnight. OK?" Relieved at hearing her voice, I was happy to accommodate her. I went over to the small basement jazz club where the Sunday night session was in full swing. The patrons, however, weren't. There were many empty tables, so I got one and settled in with a drink. When the band took a break at quarter after ten, I wasn't worried. However, they started a half-hour later, and Amy still was nowhere to be found. Her phone was busy, so I couldn't get in touch with her. At eleven, the waitress came over and said that they had a phone call for me. "I'm sorry. I got tied up and my plans have changed, but I'll meet you at your place. I'm on my way over now." I wondered if I should just go home and go to bed so I could call the cab at four in the morning. Surprises were the last thing I needed. I tried calling Amy back to tell her to forget it, but the line was busy again, so I went home. I opened my door, and saw Amy sitting calmly at my table. I certainly hadn't expected her to be at my place already. She looked at me with amusement. "How -- how did you get here so fast?", I stuttered in shock. She stood up. "Oh, I called from this phone. I was already here." "Why didn't you come over? I was waiting for you.", I pressed, still in shock. Amy sauntered over to me lazily, smiling. She put her arms on my shoulders. I realized just then that she was made up, but not dressed up. Amy has red hair and freckles, and is attractive. She isn't gorgeous or anything, but when she dresses up and really spends time putting on her face, she can be very beautiful. Her full body isn't displeasing, and she's very soft. Amy giggled. "I haven't given you your Christmas kiss yet." She leaned forward and closed her eyes. Our lips met again, but her tongue pushed into my mouth and she opened hers fully. I responded. "Merry...", Amy said before pulling me closer and kissing me harder. "Christmas...", she said, a little bit out-of- breath, pulling her head back. Her hands still rested gently around my neck Her eyes closed again, and we grabbed each other tightly this time. There was much more than a hint of her taste in my mouth and a pressure beginning to build. I looked at her eyes and they were half- open. Amy had her bedroom eyes on. "Amy?", I asked, voice almost a whisper. "Why?" She pulled away and sat down. "It's a unique gift, and it shows how much I care about you. And it's something you really, really want." The smoky look in the eyes disappeared, replaced by bright blue intensity. "You know my situation, and how I feel. You can't _have_ me, no man can. But would you like to share me for Christmas? Be honest with me -- _and yourself_." Her eyelids drooped again "You know the answer, or else you wouldn't have gone through the trouble of setting this up." "I just wanted to give you a taste of your own medicine." Amy smiled, and held out her hand. I kissed it, and she let me lead her to the bedroom. We were joined at the mouth as soon as we sat down on the bed. "Let me undress you first.", Amy panted. She pulled my clothes off quickly, yet carefully. I was naked before her and we kissed some more. She fondled me gently as I savored her mouth and tongue. "Do you want to undress me, or should I undress for you?" It took me a while to remove her sweater and pants, because I couldn't get enough of her kisses. When I undid her bra, Amy pulled my head to her chest. She stroked my hair while I used my tongue to stroke her breasts. "Ohhh, forrr- playyyy...", she sighed. We were kneeling on the bed facing each other, and my hands roamed along her torso, brushing her warm, soft, skin as they traveled. Amy's breathing became deeper. I started to lie down on my side while she was still kneeling, one hand sliding across her chest, my mouth still active at her navel. Amy sat and pulled off her panties. "You like the way I taste, don't you?", she purred suggestively. If there was one thing I could put Amy on the ceiling with, it was oral sex. She had said she didn't really get off on it our first time together. Her body had shown her to be a liar. My tongue gently started between her legs, and I just touched her with the tip. The circles I described grew smaller, then larger, and I increased the pressure. Amy's hips were moving in response to my efforts, and I tasted her inner sweetness before I tickled her clitoris. A whimpering grunt (?) told me that I was close. Slowly I pushed my fingers into Amy, who tugged at them from inside. "Yess... Oh, yesss...", she sighed, because she knew what was coming. Amy. She grunted as I batted at her G-spot, tapping, rubbing, grinding my fingers within. My tongue and head fought to stay at her clit. Amy's body jerked and wrenched around on the bed, and her liquid euphoria coated my hands and lips. She grabbed at my head and hair. I had told Amy on many occasions how wonderful her whole body tasted, and I was being given as much of that particular treat as I could handle. And it's much softer than a fruitcake. She cooed and sighed as she descended from orgasm's peak. Amy sat up and put my fingers in her mouth, sucking her juices from them, bedroom eyes on fire. She stuck my fingers back in my mouth and we kissed around them. Her hands stroked my chest. She ran them up and down the front of my body touching to stimulate, to tease. A gentle push and I sat in front of her, legs spread. Amy's red hair swirled in my lap. My eyes fluttered and a chill roared down my spine. She regarded me devilishly. Her oral ministrations didn't last very long, and I was disappointed. Not for long. "Move back to the top of the bed.", she whispered. Amy knelt over my lap when I got there, and kissed me as we started to grind at each other. Our arms wrapped around each other, we could only move back and forth. There was never much separation between our bodies. We breathed in gulps and gasps, noises in our throats. The eyes communicated mutual desire and pleasure, the lips and tongues adding to the closeness. My movement became uncontrolled, quiet grunts stilled by Amy's mouth and driving tongue. She languidly continued her easy thrusts and we stroked each other's bodies. For once there was silence between us. We both slid onto the bed, temporarily exhausted. Kissing took up some time, then Amy said, "That was Merry." "Merry what?", I whispered, kissing her on the forehead. "You still haven't gotten to Christmas yet," Amy replied, throaty voice joining the still-smoldering bedroom eyes. "You can't go to sleep now. I promised you we'd stay up all night..." She drove her mouth against mine, and our tongues dueled passionately. "And then there's Baby. You know, Merry Christmas, Baby? B.B. King?" she asked after a pause to catch her breath. I nodded, blues being one of the great things we had in common. Amy sighed. "By then, we'll just make it to your train in time, or I'll have to drive you to Chicago." She turned the light out and pounced on me.