I knock on your door, shaking. Why did I think you would want to see me again, after so long? I never come to Denver, but I remember you had moved here. I cancelled my seat on the red-eye before I phoned you. This is crazy, but I can't let this chance pass by.

"Hi, its me, Deidre. I'm so glad you let me come over."

You open the door and let me in. Once the door is closed, I take both your hands in mine and give them a squeeze. Holding your hands I stand close and kiss you full on the lips. Maybe you're suprised that I kissed you like that right away. Maybe you're suprised at how my kiss lingers on your lips. Maybe you can feel your body waking up to the touch of our lips together. You give a little sigh and squeeze my hands in return. Your lips part. I trace them with the tip of my tongue. You must be remembering what it was like for us. You must be imagining how it will feel, when I do that to you between your legs. The warmth must be already spreading through you. Its already spreading through me.

You realize that we are still standing at the door. Laughing, you pull away and invite me in to sit for coffee. Your place is big and airy, not like that place we shared. Holding my hand you lead me to the sofa. You go to the kitchen to fix it and I follow you. I don't want to leave you, now that I am here. You are filling a pot of water at the sink when I come up behind you. I hug you from behind. At first my hands circle you, holding you, letting you know how dear you are to me, even after so long. Then they creep up your chest and I take your breasts in my hands. I knew you wouldn't wear a bra for me, I was so excited when I came in and saw your breasts swinging against the fabric of your blouse, nipples pushing up against the thin cotton, dark aureoles showing through.

Looking at your breasts always thrilled me. I remember the first time you undressed for me in our tiny Boston apartment, the sight of your breasts bobbing free made my throat dry. I thought my heart would never stop beating harder and harder, faster and faster. Your skin was so white, your nipples so dark in the dusky half light. Now I hold them and can't help but carress you through your blouse. My fingers seek out your nipples, how wonderfully full and stiff they are. I pinch them, pull them, twist them to make you moan and push your ass backwards into me.

Somehow you pull my hands away from your breasts and continue making coffee. You bring it in to the living room on a tray that you set down on the table in front of the sofa. We sit and talk, sip our coffee. My eyes roam over you, taking in your attractive figure, your hair, your eyes, your smile. Our fingers never stop touching, playing with each other.

We were sharing that place, two students trying to stretch their pitiful bank accounts by sharing everything. For two years we went nonstop. We each put in relentless effort, never looking up from our studies, falling asleep exhausted every night. No vacation or social life for either of us. Until one night when I looked up from my book, thinking you had suddenly become very quiet and still. I looked up, thinking maybe you didn't feel well. You were looking at me, and little tears were gathering in your eyes and rolling away down your cheeks.

"Christine, what is it? Whats the matter?" I reached across our little table where we ate and studied together, taking your fingers in my hand. You started to cry and in between your sobs you told me why.

"I was reading and looked up to relieve my eyes and I thought to myself that the eyedoctors say that to help your eyes after too much close up work you have to focus on something far away. But there isn't anything far away in this place, you can't even look out the window and see anything except a brick wall. And I thought that I have a very small world right now, all books and papers and study, and that of that whole small world it suddenly struck me that you were the most beautiful thing there was and then this feeling started to well up inside of me and I started crying and I have to tell you... I have to tell you that I love you so much."

It was two steps from the table to the bed, and I remember taking you across that great distance with my arm around your shoulders, feeling them shake as you sobbed. In those two steps my own tears rose and overfilled my eyes, my own feelings burst free. We sat there, arm in arm, crying. I turned to hug you and my cheek pressed against yours. Our tears mingled together, making a slippery contact spread across our cheeks. I tasted salt at the corner of my mouth, I started to kiss your tears away, you started to do the same for me. Our lips met as we chased each others tears, and then they met again, and again, and would not stop. We kissed as the tears dropped away. My hands moved shaking to the buttons on your blouse. We each broke into a new round of tears as the buttons slipped from the eyeholes. I think we cried through that whole first exploration of each other, orgasms and all, until we dropped in an exhausted tangle on the bed.

We put down the cups. Leaning forward our lips meet again, and this time our tongues meet between them. Your hands drift up to touch my breasts the way I was touching you before, cupping and stroking me. I can feel them swell and grow warm and the sweat bloom in my armpits as you touch me, I whimper as you pull at my nipples. We embrace and I feel a great rush of emotion and passion as our breasts rub together. I'm holding you close, passionately kissing you, and your tongue probes deeply into my mouth. Its the first time again.