Surprise, Surprise

You sit back down on the couch, still amazed she didn't kick you out after that thigh-grab. You wonder if she's going to lecture you, criticize you, explain in laborious detail about how great women are, and so on.

As you sit, she shifts her body closer, forces you to look straight in her eyes, and says: "I'm a big fan of the movie Chasing Amy."

With that, Amy lunges onto you, thrusting her tongue deep into your mouth and forcing your lips into a lock so tight a jewel thief couldn't break it. It's that perfect open-mouthed spit-swapping french-kiss that you always dreamed about and it's coming from your lesbian room-mate.

You feel your hands possessed as they chart up her waist, to her breasts between you. You fondle, feeling the soft flesh and supple goodness. She certainly doesn't mind as evidenced by her moan.

And then comes a knock at the door. She breaks the kiss. "Who is it?" she asks, fearfully as if the Lesbian Police were coming to arrest her.

"It's Julie."

Her ex.

Amy runs to the door and sees Julie, a brunette. Julie has tears in her eyes. "Baby, I'm sorry."

And like that, they're locked in a kiss, back in love, leaving you to stare in disbelief.