Loving Cousin

I hadn't been entirely honest with Jules. She was the only woman I'd ever thought of sexually. There were a few times when my imaginary lover grew softer curves and longer hair. It was usually after I'd woken from a dream and I couldn't sleep again without finding release. In those drowsy moments, as my fingers rubbed, it was her breasts I touched, and her mouth I kissed. And when my release came, it was her name I whispered. I was ashamed I hadn't told her.

Admitting it in my journal didn't change the way I felt about John. Being with him was satisfying in ways that being with Jules couldn't replace. I loved his rough skin when he didn't shave. I loved holding onto his strong shoulders as he entered me. I loved the way he called my name when he emptied himself into me. John and I had connected so powerfully that I now feared losing him as much as I did Jules. It was hard to believe I'd only known him two weeks.

I'd fallen for someone wonderful, my best friend had become something mor