August 2nd, 2009


Inspired by "Lucky" by Jason Mraz featuring Colbie Caillat: (sorry, the music and video don't quite match) and the poem "To You" by Kenneth Koch.

Callie's eyes fluttered open to a field of pale yellow, her face buried in Erica's flaxen waves.  The two women spooned, connected at every curve in Callie's cozy bed. Callie's granite arm was locked around Erica's tapered waist, anchoring her to Callie, and Callie's impressively toned thigh was thrown over Erica's ample hip. Their fingers were threaded together and nestled between Erica's sizable breasts.  They were cocooned under Callie's white comforter, sleeping off the carnal damage they had inflicted on each other hours earlier. 

Burrowing her face deeper into Erica's hair and sniffing loudly, Callie savored Erica's intoxicating lavender shampoo. Callie brushed Erica's hair off her shoulder with her nose and kissed a path to Erica's neck, each kiss more ravenous, the last nip a near bite.  She ached to take a bite out of Erica and mused how she'd never wanted to devour someone before Erica.  Rewinding the last few months, Callie analyzed her growing obsession with Erica.  Secretly pining for Erica, Callie would spy on her favorite sex object at work, gazing lovestruck at Erica's adorable face usually bowed over a chart, Erica's eyebrows scrunched in concentration, biting her bottom lip, an endearing nervous habit that made Callie's heart glow like neon.  Erica floated through her life, completely unaware of how much Callie Torres wanted her.  

Callie rubbed her nose against Erica's peach-fuzzy skin.  Skin had no business being this soft.  Callie carefully untangled her hand from Erica's grasp, but Erica never stirred, still unconscious after their marathon romp.  Callie peeked over Erica's shoulder to admire her sleeping face.  Angels in an alleged heaven aimed to look this sweet. Erica's face, puffy from sleep, reverted to the little girl she once was. Yet her mouth, kiss-bruised and open, was a halved plum, belonging only to a woman. Callie ached to bite that plum.

Then Callie noticed something.

Erica was drooling.

Erica Hahn drooled in her sleep.

A squeaky giggle erupted from Callie and her hand flew to her mouth to stiffle a bawdy laugh.  Her heart swelled, near bursting, watching Erica drool on her pillow.  Despite the drool, Callie selfishly planned to fuck Erica before work. She swiveled her head and looked at the digital clock on her bedside table:  7:12.  Callie charitably yet reluctantly decided to let Erica sleep.  They had taken turns exhausting each other until they collapsed, delirious and sore, at four in the morning. 

Callie reclined on her side and snuggled into Erica, admiring Erica's breasts rising and falling with her steady breathe.  Callie flashed back to the night before. 

After congratulating themselves on taking it slow, their bodies took over.  Their explosive combined lust catapulted them to the nearest flat surface, the couch.  Callie's vision telescoped down Erica's blouse, the top button already conveniently undone in their race to the dirty.  Callie unabashedly checked Erica out all night, trying to discern Erica's breasts through her shirt.  When Erica had leaned over the table to wipe soy sauce off Callie's lip(a flimsy excuse to caress Callie's mouth in public), Callie openly stared down Erica's shirt, spotting a creamy breast barely contained in a black lace bra.  Every neuron in her brain screamed for her to throw Erica on the table and ravish her in front of their fellow sushi eaters.  Instead, Callie picked up her chop sticks with tremulous hands and sheepishly finished her California roll, acutely and blissfully aware of her whippedness.

Later on the couch and pinned under Erica, Callie panted, "Take this off" as she clumsily tried to pull Erica's shirt over her head.  Erica smirked at Callie's impatience and seductively crawled back to sit on her knees, straddling Callie's waist.  Callie unconsciously held her breathe at the impending striptease, her filthiest daydreams finally unfolding, in her lap no less. Erica slowly pulled the bottom of her shirt out of her skirt and methodically unbuttoned each pesky button to peel back the shiny fabric and slide each shoulder out of their confines.  Erica pulled each arm out of the shirt behind her back and purposely arched her spine to push her breasts towards Callie.  Callie groaned, watching Erica's pale breasts spill over the black lace bra and bounce slightly as Erica leaned forward  to throw her shirt on the floor. Callie growled and pounced, hurriedly pushing herself up to savagely grab Erica's face with both hands.  Insatiable and aflame, Callie angled her head to dig her tongue deep into Erica's mouth, earning a rapturous moan from Erica.  Callie's hands, suddenly useless as paws, frantically grabbed fistfulls of blonde hair, yanking Erica to her violently, surprising even herself.  Callie had daydreamed about fistfulls of blonde hair even before Mark teased her about lusting after Erica.  The reality of Erica was infinitely sexier than Mark's schoolboy fantasies.  Callie had to feel sorry for Mark because he would never know the exquisite weight of Erica Hahn on top of him.  Callie's new place in the world was under Erica.

Callie wrenched her mouth from Erica's, their wet kiss echoing with a resounding "smooch."  The women gulped for oxygen, exchanging steamy breathes.  Erica hovered slightly above Callie, still straddling Callie's waist.  Callie slid her hands all over Erica' s ass and squeezed hard.  "Erica, I want you.  I know we said we'd take it slow, but...I. Want. You."  Callie gripped Erica's ass tighter and yanked Erica's body closer, their cores colliding with each word.  Erica's breasts bounced in Callie's face with each yank and Callie buried her face into Erica's cleavage.

Erica squirmed, giggling, and lifted Callie's face out of her cleavage.  She gazed down at Callie's upturned, flushed face and lovingly brushed Callie's hair off her perspiring forehead.  Suddenly awash in emotion, at the brink of all she ever wanted, Erica swallowed her tears.  Callie wanted her.  She traced Callie's mouth with her thumbs before plunging her tongue deep into Callie's mouth.  Erica ripped her mouth from Callie's and timidly confessed, "I've always wanted you." 

Those words unlocked a beast in Callie and she attacked Erica, all teeth, tongue, and paws.  She squeezed Erica, her debilitating, carpenter's arms stealing Erica's breathe.  Callie hungrily kissed  Erica's chin and neck as her hands clawed at Erica's bra straps and fumbled with the clasp.  She privately panicked at never taking a woman's bra off besides her own. She vowed to chew that bra off with her teeth if she had to.

Erica's head spun at Callie's assault.  She managed only to dig her hands further into Callie's hair and press Callie's head to her chest as Callie feverishly groped and kissed her breasts.  Callie's brain finally caught up with her uncharacteristic caveman-ish behavior.  She was finally going to fuck Erica. Tonight.  Callie realized Erica deserved better than a couch that smelled vaguely of Cool Ranch Doritos and stale tequila.  She wanted to worship Erica tonight.  If their kisses were any indication, their first fuck was destined to be wondrous. 

Callie clutched Erica's shoulders, reluctantly pushed her away a few inches, and attempted to catch her breathe. She wanted to stop time and remember Erica like this always: Erica straddling Callie's lap with her black skirt hiked north of her mid-thigh, her curls sexily disheveled, her swollen mouth open and panting, and her breasts falling out of her bra.  Callie snapped a mental Polaroid and stashed in it her Erica-file under "filthy." 

Erica's bra straps drooped off her shoulders and she attempted to fix them, but Callie stopped her hands and kissed her knuckles.  Callie gazed up at Erica's worried face, half hidden behind Erica's tousled curls.  Callie hooked Erica's curls behind her ears and noticed Erica was biting her bottom lip. She immediately kissed that bottom lip, needing to soothe Erica's needless worry, channeling all the love she had for her in one kiss.  "Erica...I want to do this right.  I want to undress you.  Slowly.  I want to kiss you.  Everywhere.  And I want to fuck you.  All. Night.  Okay?"  Callie begged before nibbling on Erica's chin.  

Erica exhaled, relieved that Callie didn't want to stop.  She stared tearfully into Callie's eyes, overwhelmed by the heft of her love for Callie.  Tonight she could finally show Callie how much she loved and lived for her.  Erica nodded slowly and whispered, "Okay." 

Callie's eyes glowed devilishly and her smile exploded, lighting up her entire being.  She sucked on Erica's bottom lip as her hands slid around Erica's hips to smack her ass.  "Get in the bedroom.  Now."

Morning's benevolent, golden rays halowed Callie's conjugal bed.  The world was waking up and morning had never seemed so promising.  Erica, still deeply asleep, shifted slightly, curling tighter into herself.  Callie stared in awe and held her breathe as the ripples of muscle in Erica's back flexed and then relaxed.  Callie's hand worshipfully traced the vertebrae of Erica's slightly curved spine, her finger tips admiring each sequential ridge, marveling at Erica's perfect architecture.  Callie then skimmed her hand over Erica's round hip, barely touching Erica's fair skin.  The sway of those hips had turned Callie's head months before, before Callie could articulate what she wanted.  And what she wanted was exactly this, waking up naked next to Erica. 

Callie chided herself for wasting so much time dancing around the truth, denying she had fallen for her best friend. 

"Wait! Have I fallen for Erica!?" Callie panicked. Callie flopped over on her back and stared at the sun-dappled ceiling, her mind whirling, desperate to pinpoint if and when the falling occurred. 

Callie sighed, admitting to herself that Mark was right, Erica was all she thought about.  Erica was Callie's every thought, her every breathe, her every blink, yet Callie had battled valiantly to ignore her body's plea for Erica.  Despite his legendary douchebaggery, Mark was perceptive enough to see what Callie was denying, that she was falling for Erica, just as he had months earlier. He generously stepped aside, having witnessed the lustful, electrical current between the women for weeks and hitting its zenith over Cement Boy.  Mark, who would normally cross swords with a potential rival, instead ridiculed the girls' mutual attraction, proposing a threesome and games of Twister, but he eventually conceded defeat and nudged Callie towards the girl she couldn't take her mind or eyes off of.  

Callie roughly combed her fingers through her hair, frustrated, still unwilling to pinpoint her feelings for Erica. True, she had never been more turned on in her life than at the mere mention of Erica's name. Just the configuration of Erica's name on the surgical board made Callie's core throb.  Callie's mind flooded with Erica, details she had compulsively cataloged, devotedly learning the alphabet of Erica.  Callie grinned, remembering Erica's breathe after her morning cinnamon latte. The charming way Erica raised her shoulders when she laughed.  Her smile that buoyed Callie's soul.  Those sublime legs that stretched to her chin.  Erica's perfume wafting down the halls in her authoritative, sexy-as-hell wake.  Her use of a straw was pornographic.  Erica naturally owned and commanded every room she entered.  "People should bow to her," Callie thought.  Erica's skill with a scalpel(and her fingers, Callie recently learned) was holy.  That bourbon-soaked voice, especially when whispering hotly in Callie's ear.  Her lustrous hair that begged to be touched.  Erica's ability to eroticize every activity, Callie was turned on watching her read the newspaper.  She'd get this habitual twinkle in her eyes the nanosecond before Callie kissed her.  Since Erica, Callie had never been more herself, yet strived to be better.  She was undone yet whole with Erica by her side.  "I am crazier than shirttails in the wind, when you're near," Callie read that in a poem once, never forgot it, and finally understood it.  With Erica, Callie's laugh was infectious and rowdy again.  Her confidence still faltered occasionally, but Erica was always there to center her, her savior, although Callie knew Erica would scoff at such a word.

Callie's smile grew in degrees, the truth too impossibly beautiful and obvious to deny anymore.

She was in love. 

With her best friend.  

Callie chuckled and shook her head, dumbfounded by her luck and stupidity.  Her heart's missing piece had been in front of her for months.  Her longed-for home had been her home all along, Erica.  Callie had waited for a love like this. "For this we live a thousand years." That poet knew what he was talking about.

Callie rolled onto her side and burrowed into Erica again.  She snaked her arm around Erica's waist and threaded their fingers again.  Although asleep, Erica knew Callie's touch and pressed their hands to her beating heart.  Callie felt Erica's heart throbbing as her own heart slowed to meet her companion's pulse.  Callie swung her thigh over Erica's hip again and Erica unconsciously fused into Callie.

Kissing the babysoft skin between Erica's shoulder blades, Callie whispered onto Erica's skin, "Do you hear me, talking to you?"

Erica's only response was shallow, slumbering breathes. 

Callie pressed her mouth to Erica's back and whispered,"I'm in love with my best friend. You."
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