I would do anything for this woman. Go anywhere. Be anything. Just to taste her. She doesn't know that yet.

It's been a long day. We're getting a drink. A casual hangout between friends.

I think about her all the time. I've cum with her in my mind more times than I can count. Including earlier that day. She doesn't know that. Yet.

I'm rambling about someone else I've been casually sleeping with, and then I say, as smoothly as I can after a number of drinks:

"Here's a proposal for you. It's kind of out there."

"Okay?"

"Let's get high and masturbate together."

She laughs and looks away.

We joke about sex a lot. I think it's because she likes the attention it gets her from me. I think she likes the attention more than she likes me. But the way I crave her runs so deep, I'll do anything if I think I've got a shot at bliss with her. We live 2 blocks from each other. Nights when I'm high and masturbating, I tell myself it'd be so simple for her to just come over. If she wanted to.

We had a casual text exchange weeks ago about the effects of edibles on masturbation. Triggering me to want to do it with her.

"For me," she explains, "masturbation is like a small, personal experience."

So that's a no. We chat about masturbating. I said I just thought it might be fun.

"Also," I say, knowing I'm about to throw a hail mary, "I would love to go down on you."

I'm grinning. I love how it feels to be this bold.

"I've thought about it," she says. She had a surgery recently. She's never been able to have sex, not really. For her life, penetration has been painful. But now it's a possibility. "I've thought, maybe you could be someone I could try that with. To answer your question - it's not a no."

I hate that I love this. I want a yes. This keeps me a wanting fool at the end of her string. Wrapped, still, around her finger.

I talk, a little rambley, about how I don't think it would affect our friendship (though I know it would) and she agrees. We agree that we trust each other. We agree that we're comfortable with each other. It's so tantalizingly close, but so far out of reach.

We part ways at night's end. Her to her place, 2 blocks away. She says, "It's a maybe. Maybe next week, maybe in three months, I don't know."

I go home, feeling drunk and happy. I said it. At least I said it. The rush of talking openly about it is like a drug. Yet another drug she's got me hooked on.

I want her in my bed. Moaning. Feeling things she's never felt. Feeling more sexually alive than she thought possible. Cumming harder than she's ever cum. Shocked that she's moaning my name.

Soon.

"It's not a no," she said.

This goddamn roller coaster that only one of us is riding just got longer. But fuck it, I'm not getting off. Until she does. On my face.