Sleepless Over

From the author of Bliss Kiss:

Ashlee and Turi were flops as roommates during their sophomore year at college. They barely talked!

Since then, they've built a steady friendship and are close to graduating. When Ashlee invites Turi to a sleepless over party, she accepts gratefully.

Little does Turi know, however, that she's the only one invited to the evening's festivities, which will take several unexpected turns.

Warning: Adults Only. This title contains erotic situations, including strong language and sexual situations between two females. Do not purchase unless you are 18 or older, or if you believe you might find such content offensive.

Sleepless Over is a longish short story of around 9,100+ words or about 30+ pages of story.

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Excerpt:

“It’s no body-length mirror, I’ll admit,” she said.

“It will be fine,” I said, then pointed at our reflections in it. “Now tell me what you see.”

“Just us,” Ashlee said.

“Exactly,” I said. “Describe yourself.”

“Blonde hair, blue eyes, like that?”

“Exactly like that. And don’t forget you’re a size zero.”

“Only because they don’t make negative sizes,” Ashlee complained. “I have to buy half my clothes out of the young misses section. Little girl clothes. Nothing sexy. I have virtually no curves. I’m a straight, narrow line. It’s humiliating.”

“Well, forget that for a moment,” I said. “You have blonde hair, blue eyes, and you’re a size zero. And you wonder why I felt invisible around you?”

“Are you saying—”

“I’m saying you’re gorgeous,” I said. “A nightmare for… for a girl like me.”

Ashlee raised an eyebrow without raising them both. “Nightmare?”

“Nothing personal, but yeah.”

“You’re leaving out something important,” Ashlee said, glancing to stare me down through our reflection on the mirror.

“What’s that?” I asked as I stood behind her, looking over her shoulder at our reflections.

“Well, first, your red hair,” she said, and my body tensed.

“I’m a ginger. I know.”

“You’re saying that like it’s a bad thing.”

“I’ve been teased my entire life over it,” I said. “I’ve heard them all. Ginger, Carrot Top, Fruit Rind, Agent Orange, Backdraft, Orangutan, Better Dead than Red, Big Red, Cherry, Bonfire, Cheetos Crotch, Nacho Head, Fire Pubes, Freckle-Fart from K-mart, Rust Hair, Lava Head, Little Orphan Annie, Raggedy Anne, Freckle Face, the Redheaded Stepchild, Strawberry Shortcake, Amy Pondscum, Used Tampon, Tomato Top, the Human Torch, Raspberry Beret, Cranberry Twat, Volcano Head, Ginny Weasley, Dumb Blonde with High Blood Pressure—”

“You’re making half of those up,” Ashlee said.

“I’m so not.”

Ashlee noticed the tears staining my cheeks and her face softened. “God, I’m sorry,” she said. “But you forgot one.”

I tensed again. “What’s that?”

“Beautiful.”

I leaked a blast of breath from my mouth in disbelief. “As if.”

“I mean it.” Ashlee looked at me and everything about her indicated her sincerity.

“Well, maybe in your eyes, but we’re friends. People see you, they think sexy. People see me and assume I’m short-tempered. Which really makes me—”

“Short-tempered?”

I realized I’d been pouting, on the edge of anger, and Ashlee’s comment broke through the rage that had built inside me so quickly and unexpectedly.

“Yeah..."