I felt the cream glide on, easier than Ihad imagined. There was no going back. The glistening color found it'shold on my lips. The image in the mirror...held, not my male face, but apreview of the decision I had made when the lipstick touched everysquare millimeter of my new womanly lips, put there with a precision Icould not have imagined.I felt a sigh being transmitted from my Mother's hand to my shoulder andthen the hand left my shoulder with a loving pat. I had painted my lipswith my mother's. He felt confident in the situation and hoped he may have correctly played his cards to get her home and through to morning...hopefully even longer. But…he wasn’t exactly ready to make the attempt to fuck her. He wanted to wait things out and see if there’s something more than a physical attraction between them. Chelsie was all but ready to take him home and let him have his way with her. Their playfulness had caused quite the mess in her southern regions and she definitely needed that to be. . I can’t do justice to her aura of quiet sexuality. Hers was an understated beauty.Weeks passed and Claire and I became good friends. We even flirted, but I flirted with most of the girls I knew, so thought nothing of it. We found more things in common than just maths homework. We played pool in the social area and talked about politics in the library. She showed me little glimpses of the true Claire, the one she kept hidden, and I liked what I saw.In free periods, we knew exactly where to. He was home tonight, studying. I imagined him bent over his biology textbooks by lamplight, waiting for my call to let him know I had gotten home from work alright. He had assumed I was at my waitress job, of course. I imagined what he might do or feel if he had been witness to my transgressions. I tried to process my feelings. Surely I had to feel guilty for what I had done? But then why did I just feel a kind of numbness, like I had just gotten high off a sexual version of cocaine and wasn’t.
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