“Wednesday and Thursday nights alone with you were some of the best nights of my life. I'd had some amazing orgasms with you going down on me with all the other girls around, but it's hard to get into rhythm when you're sharing with a bunch of other girls knowing they're all waiting for their turn. But when it was just you and me - no rush, no worry - getting to have you focus on just me for as long as it took..." She sighed in rapturous pleasure, staring a thousand yards and four nights away.

"I had this big night planned for us," she continued while still staring off into the middle distance.

“I went out in the morning and bought that black lace ensemble, just for you. I was going to be SO super-sexy you were gonna squirt in your shorts like Jake Pedson at the mere sight of me. I was gonna make you fall in Love with me, not that I actually want you to be in Love with me or anything, but I wanted..."

Her voice had trailed off again.

Shaking her head slowly, Sam furrowed her eyebrows and muttered, "I don't want you to actually be in love with me, but I wanted to know that I could make you fall in love with me. I wanted to be irresistible to you. That even after all these years of playing it cool, being the

‘safe’ guy friend who would never quite grab my ass no matter how invitingly I shook it in front of you, never quite bite my nipple no matter how close I brought it to your mouth, that I could make you crack. I wanted that rush.”

Sam's eyes were on fire.

But a moment Later, she blinked and that fire was gone, replaced by an abyss of darkness and a... haunted... expression on her face.

"I'm supposed to be the sex goddess. ALL men are supposed to lust for my body. Even my dad's co-workers are hitting on me. I am Venus. I am

Aphrodite. I'm supposed to inspire incredible, transcendent sexual experiences!" Her voice trailed off, and when she spoke again, her volume had gone way down.

“But I've only ever had disasters. Antonio was popular and experienced, but he said I was lousy... I begged him to give me another chance, and we went out one more time, and he stopped calling me after that."

“Sam..." I tried to hug her reassuringly.

“That one drunken college thing, he couldn't even..." Her voice trailed off as she stared out into space. "I just knew that the problem was ME.

I mean, I'm fucking Aphrodite. Of COURSE I was gonna be this incredible lover when the time came. And yet... I... I mean Mari of all people could... Don't get me wrong, I Love Mari. She's soooo sweet, how could you not love her? But despite the fact that she has that massive rack, she's not ME. She's never been as sexy as me. So when we went on that date and we got back to your house, I knew... I just KNEW... I was gonna be SPECTACULAR for you. I wasn't going to fuck you. I wouldn't need to. I was gonna burn the image of me in that sexy lingerie into your fucking retinas so every lover you ever had after me would pale in comparison. I was gonna deep-throat your monster dick. I was gonna fuck you with my big titties until you unloaded all over my gorgeous face.

And Gawd. Fucking. Dammit! -I- was gonna be your FAVORITE!"

I blinked in surprise at the vehemence in Sam's words. She was crying again, bawling really. Why the hell were girls always crying next to me? But I realized she was going through an epiphany and needed my support more than ever. So I held her close with both arms and let her let it all out while she sobbed in my arms.

“I couldn't do it," she whimpered in abject misery. "I couldn't do it.

I'm so sorry I couldn't do it."

"Shhh," I shushed her soothingly. "I know you tried your best."

Bleary eyed, she turned to look up at me. "If I did, would it change the way you feel about me?"

I gave her a reassuring smile and began to say the same thing I'd said to her Last night.

“I told you: I won't love you any Le-"

I stopped as I was suddenly seized with the sense that I was about to make a huge mistake. I remembered what Sam had said to me the last time

I'd said those words, complaining that I wasn't Listening.

But I was listening now, and I realized that last night I'd gotten everything backwards. So instead, I tilted her face to look up at me and stated evenly, “Deep-throating me isn't going to make me love you more. I don't need you to do something like that... or even have sex with me... to try and make me think of you as ‘my favorite’. You can't buy my love with a blowjob. I care a great deal about you and I'd never want to hurt you. I also don't want to lead you on. So I need to make this crystal clear: How much I care about you is NOT tied into whether or not you can deep-throat me. How much I care about you is NOT tied into whether or not you'll have sex with me. I won't Love you any less for not being able to accomplish one sexual act or another, but I also won't love you any MORE if you do. You can't BUY my love like that. And your self-worth should NOT be dependent upon these things."