“I am.”  Bette made another grab for Tina’s shirt.  This time Tina didn’t stand in her way and lifted, giving Bette the entrée she sought.  She pulled the shirt up and unfastened the back hooks of Tina’s bra in a way that only a long time ***** could—quickly and erotically.  The bra hung down between them inside the shirt and Bette’s warm hands replaced the cotton cups.  Her fingers played over Tina’s erect nipples and Tina arched into Bette’s hands, offering herself to her.  Bette pulled the shirt up and lifted her head, pulling one of Tina’s ***** into her mouth.  Bette’s mouth moved across to the other breast, then back.  Back and forth, she moved, watching as Tina’s nipples changed from pale pink to dusty rose to a dark merlot.  Tina panted on top of her.  Their bodies pushed and pressed against each other.  For Bette, there was something about this act that represented the essentiality of Tina in her life.  This feeling was as necessary, as elemental as breathing or needing water to survive.

“Tee, take me to bed.”

Tina and Bette stared into one another’s eyes.  Tina lightly ran her index finger over Bette’s full lips before bending again for another kiss.  When she broke away, she said, “C’mon,” as she stood and pulled Bette up.

The women held hands as they walked to the bedroom.  Tina turned to kiss Bette again, dragging her across the room to the bed.  She sat down while Bette remained standing above her.  Once again, Tina lifted Bette’s T-shirt and kissed her belly, then pulled her down on top of her.  The women kissed with unbridled desire now, moving faster and more frantically against the other.  Bette’s mouth was hot.  Her tongue ran circles over Tina’s earlobe, narrowed and followed the pattern of the shell-shaped ear, licked along the ridges and lines, lapped at the smooth skin near the opening of the ear canal.  Tina moaned loudly.  She loved the feel of Bette’s mouth on her ears, she always had.  But suddenly, Bette became motionless.  

“Baby, wha—what is it?”  Tina turned to look up at the face that was contorted in confusion and dismay.

Bette rolled over.  “I’m sorry…I—I can’t…”