I can't stop thinking about her. Which actually is par for course these past few months. It wouldn't be so hard if she wasn't so...

tempting.

Sitting there all innocent and sweet, just begging to be scandalized.

and yeah normally I'm the kind of girl that  would take her up on it. I would take her. Do those things her eyes and mouth and body beg me to do everyday.

But she has this really over protective, whiny, too strong, too vanilla friend who goes by the name of Buffy. Buffy who would probably kill me if she knew I was thinking such naughty thoughts about the Virgin Willow.

GOD. I need to get laid. Some redheaded, slutty girl with green eyes and long hair that I can run my hands through. Clutch. Pull her down on top of me with.

Of course I tried that. Bronze ladies room. She was ready and I was so willing and then this sweet little voice in my head. 'I thought you really cared Faith. I thought we were supposed to be friends and then...'

God I have to stop making stupid deals. Deals my libido is trying desperately to make me break.

I can't stand just being her friend. Especially when the then is like nowhere near happening. And could she try a little more to tempt me.

Maybe not in an obvious way, like sticking her tongue in my ear. Oh there is a nice fantasy, gonna remember that.

No she does it all innocent like. Wearing all those clothes, covering everything. Begging me to take them off of her. With those green eyes that seem to have some sort of psychic connection with my crotch. Because whenever she looks at me, I have an instantaneous orgasm that last until she's nice enough to look away.

Why did I give up drinking?

Life's problems are so much easier to deal with--or not deal with-- when you're shitfaced drunk. I especially like the part where nothing can really faze you.

Like when you wonder why a gir--woman with more notches in her bed than most billionare tycoons is following some small town Mary Sue virgin around like a damn dog.

I should have fucked her that first night. When I first realized that seering anger I felt towards her wasn't really anger.

Should have taken her on one of the pool tables. With all those suburban, 'I am at the Bronze so I'm really hardcore' kids watching.

There's another good fantasy. I need to stop think these things up or the next time I see Red...

I'll probably get some goofy ass grin on my face. Spend ten minutes making an ass out of myself telling her how good she looks in overalls.

And she does look good in them.

I have to get over this entire 'completely covered' thing of hers before I develop some kind of fetish.

Like I don't have enough of those.

And what about when she finds out about those.

'Don't worry Wills these handcuffs are padded.' 

'Oh this? This is what they call a strap on. I like to wear it sometimes when I'm feeling uber butch.'

'Oh its okay I like it when it hurts.'

Those are going to be interesting conversations. Supposing I ever get around to having them. To having her.

I have to stop thinking about sex.

Yeah that's going to happen.

It would be so much easier if I wanted it to stop.

If I really wanted I could go find someone cheap with big tits to end this little trip down Abstinence Avenue with.

But I don't want to.

I want her.

Want her in the physical fuck her brains out way.

But also in the stay with her after. Hold her when she's sad kind of way.

That's the problem.

Not the being hornier than I remember being when I was fourteen and still a virgin.

Its wanting the more that is really freaking me out.

That's what I really can't get.

Because I'm Faith, the bad girl.

I have had many girls--probably more than would actually be decent to admit--but they have never made me want to stay.

She does.

She looks at me and I want to hold her--preferably after some nice, hot sex--and make her feel...

like she's the world.

Because for some strange reason she seems to be.

And that is freaking me the fuck out.