No need to hide it; it's natural

He felt his boxers begin to take on a decidedly three-dimensional shape, but he decided to just ignore it and act natural. If someone had a problem with it, they could just take the issue up with Mother Nature. It wasn't his fault the male body was engineered to be as ostentatious as possible about certain emotions.

Unfortunately Kate was not quite as liberated in her thinking. Her smile of thanks suddenly faltered as her eyes dipped and spotted his Gizan reproduction, and she deftly pirouetted to face in the other direction, her suddenly scarlet complexion spreading all the way to the back of her neck.

"Wow, it's certainly getting late!" she squeaked, "I guess it's high time we got some sleep!"

"So soon?" Ilyana grinned unabashedly, "Seems to me you were just beginning to stretch the right muscles!"

John felt the heat rise to his own face at her obvious innuendo.

Kate delivered a solid punch to her friend's right shoulder and resolutely began climbing into bed, keeping her face determinedly averted from him throughout.

"Oh all right," Ilyana relented. "Night, John," she smirked as she turned out the light.

Grateful for the concealing darkness, he climbed onto his cot and laid on his back between the two fair damsels. For a long time he rested happily with his eyes closed, hands clasped behind his head, replaying the magnificent sights of the evening in his mind and re-tasting them like rare wines. The soft purrs of his sleeping roommates contributed imaginings of their semi-nude forms blissfully poised in the repose of slumber under their sheets.

At some point he must have dozed off, because gradually he became aware of a tickling sensation on his chest. He opened his eyes just a crack. It was still very dark, but the moon had shifted positions and was now shining through the window. By its faint light, he could see Kate's arm extended out from her covers and her limp fingers ever so slightly brushing against the skin of his chest.

The **** contact raised goosebumps on his flesh and set his heart racing. But then as the fog of sleep receded, he became aware that her hand was slowly moving along his rib cage, delicately but methodically traversing it with the tips of her fingers. This was no **** touch.