Sara was immediately in love, then, as she remembered the filthy things that those lips had uttered when the girl thought she was alone, felt her own cunt start to leak. Her breath came short and she felt her nipples harden and press against her shirt. She wasn't wearing a very heavy bra because her breasts were so small, and she was sure that the girl would see the nipples. This made Sara even more aroused because she felt humiliated by the possibility of the girl knowing how excited she was. "Can?" Sara started, then had to clear her throat, "can I help you?" The girl licked her lips in what seemed to be an unconscious gesture. She looked at Sara in an appraising manner with neither like nor dislike in her eyes. It was a look that seemed out of place on such an innocent face. It seemed to weigh Sara to decide if she was worthy of? something. Sara didn't know what. "Oh, hi," replied the girl. Then she frowned and said, "You look familiar. Have we met before?" Now. It’s funny, waking up with the morning light, it really is perky. Especially if you have nothing to do. But then time slides. You have a good book in hand, and even though you’re sleepy, the pages are delicious. And the sleepiness is delicious too, a rich undiscovered indulgence. Sleep, that’s only an undiscovered country. But sleepiness: now that’s pleasure, a sweet decadence. Like dancing, fucking, getting high. An elixir sprinkled on your eyelids and left to tingle, shooting quicksilver deep into the eddies of your brain. And so it goes. A few nights suffice before I’m up to three am. I can hold that pattern for a couple of weeks, but then inevitably 3 turns to 4, and soon there’s that same perky morning light creeping up behind the blinds. A stern greybeard Apollo glaring in judgment. Probably it’s Jehovah, in fact. Old bastard. Then I’ll be up till noon. Soon enough. But for now, I’m still konking out by 3. Not for long though, I have too little to keep me occupied. **** I’m a.
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