Brave the bees to save Elizabeth

I bolted up the hill shouting Elizabeth’s name, following the sounds of her screams.

I found her backed up against a rock formation, with nowhere to run from the angry swarm, afraid to move. Then I felt the first sting.

Not realizing it, I had charged right into the middle of them.

I grabbed Elizabeth, shaking her out of her panic, and pulled her down the hill with me as fast as I could, until I was confident we were totally safe from the little bastards.

“Ow!”

Like the final scare in a horror movie, one of them had been hiding in my shirt just to fuck with me when I thought it was all over.

Luckily, nobody was allergic to bees. And, all said, the damage wasn’t nearly as bad as it should have been. As the person who’d actually disturbed the hive, Simon got it worse than anybody with eight stings. Then came me, with five stings, and then Elizabeth, who’d somehow survived the ordeal with only three. The other girls had escaped miraculously unscathed.

We all took off our shirts while our friends pulled out the stingers. It was the one and only time in history when I saw Elizabeth in her bra and didn’t get an instant hard-on. Soon as we had all calmed down, everyone started joking about how Elizabeth had been rescued from the bees by her “Prince Charming,” a comment she responded to by giving me a big, satisfying kiss on the lips.

I whispered to her that she’d just made the whole thing worth it.

Stephanie drove to the store and got us some ointment to help with the irritation, but honestly it didn’t help me nearly as much as Elizabeth’s kiss. That kiss had left me with a good mood that no amount of itching could dampen.

Elizabeth and I had kissed lots of times in the past—New Years Eve, Valentine’s Day, and the handful of times she and Stephanie had shared me in bed together—but there was something different about the kiss she gave me that afternoon. I’d never felt that way after a kiss before. It was like—I don’t know—it was like—give me a sec—it felt—

It just felt “right.” I guess that probably sounds lame, but it’s the most real way I can describe it. It felt right, in the kind of way that very few things in life ever do. I began to daydream, entertaining thoughts of romantic nights with her on a blanket, looking up at the stars—

But I was being stupid again, wasn’t I? All I felt was the adrenaline from our recent excitement. I was just doing what I always did, getting all excited over nothing. So I’d helped Elizabeth get away from a couple bees—it’s not like I’d slain a dragon for the girl. It didn’t change anything.

We were still just friends.

Nonetheless, Elizabeth hung on my arm for the rest of the day, and I felt pretty damn heroic. There was something incredibly comforting about her presence that always put me in a happy place. That evening, when our group sat around the living room telling jokes, Elizabeth’s soft, curvaceous body stretched out beside me on the couch, and as we lay there spooning, I became painfully aware of just how much I had missed being intimate with the girl.

But I knew that Elizabeth’s close friendship with Stephanie meant that she and I couldn’t be together in any capacity. She had told me as much, several times. And I hated it. It was totally bogus, and unfair, and—

Elizabeth’s full, juicy buttocks wiggled against my crotch. I swear I caught her smile at the feel of my erection. I didn’t want to get my hopes up, but that was very interesting development indeed…

The **** flowed freely that night, and eventually a very tipsy Amy asked a very tipsy Rachel, “So, Rachel—You’re a lesbian, right? Well I’ve always wondered, not counting Talia, which one of us do you think is the most hottest?”

Sober, Rachel probably wouldn’t have answered such an obviously loaded question. But with a little bit of **** in her, she felt no hesitation in telling us all: