Catalyst

Instead, he opted for a porno. If she woke up, he'd hear the door open and be able to shut it off. That ruled out pay-per-view. If he might get interrupted, he wasn't about to pay ten to fifteen bucks for a movie. Instead he slipped one of prize DVDs from his collection and dropped it in. This one wasn't too hardcore, just the usual sucking and fucking, but with an interesting storyline. Rodney may laugh at his preferences, but it got him going.

The movie had been playing for less than five minutes when he heard Maya stir, slipping off the bed, feet hitting the floor. He quickly stopped the movie and switched the TV back to cable. "Maya?" he called out when she didn't seem to move. "You okay, Beavis?" A long pause; still no answer. He stood and felt a twinge let go in his back. Those two ibuprofen hadn't done the trick at all.

Andrew stopped, halfway risen from the couch. "Wait," he muttered to himself. "There were only three left in the bottle. How did she take four pills?" The answer shocked him when it came. He stood up the rest of the way, ignoring the ripping pain in his back. The OTHER bottle, the one he'd completely forgotten about. The ibuprofen with codeine the dentist had prescribed after the root canal. They hadn't done shit, so he'd never bothered taking anymore, instead calling the dentist back and getting Percosets. The Percosets were gone, but the nearly full bottle of ibupro... "

"Maya?! Maya, are you okay?" He rushed into the room, not bothering to knock. He opened the door slowly, though, in case she was standing behind it. Instead, he found her standing beside the bed as though she'd stood up and then just stayed there. Her eyes were open, but heavy-lidded. She looked to Andrew like the people his psychology teacher had hypnotized back in college. Not awake or aware, but still there. "Maya?"

"Yes, Andrew?" Her speech was slurred, but understandable. "Whassup?"

He sighed with relief. "You are, Beavis. Time to go back to bed."

"Can't. Can't. Can' sleep." she murmured.

"No wonder. Listen, Maya. You took four ibuprofen with codeine. And drank booze. Do you feel okay?"

"Yeah. Just... " She paused, licking her lips. Andrew had been so intent on studying her face that he hadn't noticed the pants that had slipped off her waist, pooling around her knees. He could see her panties, little purple things so unlike the ugly granny panties he knew she usually wore. "Who am I trying to impress?" she'd asked when he brought it up one day several years ago. He'd been helping her do laundry. Apparently she kept her only sexy pair of underwear as a backup in her purse.

"Juh." Andrew cleared his throat, clearing out the huge lump suddenly formed there. "Just what? What's wrong?" He was still worried about her, but she hadn't taken that many pills, and wine coolers were pretty weak. He knew first aid in and out, moonlighting as a lifeguard at the beach during the summer weekends. Most likely she was just out of sorts, in a dreamy kind of state. Like crude hypnosis, he thought, then shrugged the idea away.

"Can't sleep. Tired, but can't sleep." She took no notice of the condition of her pants. Normally she would have squealed and yanked them back up. Andrew fought the urge to take advantage of the situation.

"Maya. Your pants fell down."

"Oh. Sorry." She tugged at the halfheartedly, getting them most of the way up.

"Why don't you try and get some sleep? Sleep off the pills and alcohol. Okay?" He took a step forward, the put his hands on her shoulders. "Lie down." She didn't protest, just sat back on the bed, then let him guide her onto her back. Her legs still dangled off the side; she was only a couple inches over five feet, and Andrew liked petite women. With his help (and he marveled when she let him grasp her calves and lift them) she got back into bed. This time he got the covers over her.

"Thanks. Sweet Andrew." Within seconds her breathing became heavy and she uttered a tiny snore. Andrew watched over her for a few minutes, watching for signs she was falling too deep, or that her breathing might become irregular or shallow. She only slept. He was about to leave when his passion overwhelmed rational thought. Knowing full well it could mean the end of their friendship, he tugged down the covers just enough to bare her slowly rising and falling chest. That so reserved a woman was graced with such perfect C-cups screamed of injustice to him. She wore only sport bras most of the time (he looked). Yet they were still quite pert, he noticed through the t-shirt. Pity it was so loose; tight would have been better.

With a sigh, he made to put the covers back when he noticed her nipples grow hard through the fabric. Unable to stop himself, he reached out and laid a hand on one breast. She stirred, but seemed to remain asleep. He caressed her tit for the first time and savored the sensation. Her nipple was rock hard, something he would have thought impossible with all the relaxant running through her. Suddenly, her eyes fluttered open!

"Maya." he muttered, knowing how stupid he sounded, as though she had surprised him instead of the other way around. He lifted his hand away when hers slipped from under the covers. He began to stammer something, some apology, when he saw the look in her eye: distant, awake but not aware, almost hypnotized. Instead of grasping his hand, or slapping him, she instead began to caress her other breast. She sighed, almost a moan. Andrew couldn't see what her other hand was doing, but thought perhaps it was also busy, under the covers. Hoping this wasn't a trap, he laid his hand back on her other breast and imitated the way she touched herself. He hoped she was mistaking his hand for her own.

"Mmmm. Yeah. Andrew." He jumped a little at the sound of his own name, but didn't stop caressing her. Taking a chance, he varied how he was touching her, squeezing the firm-yet-soft flesh of her breast, stroking her erect nipple with his thumb. She responded with another sighing moan, saying his name again. Was she lost in a fantasy somehow? And was he the star of it? Her eyes, though open, weren't focused on him, but at a point directly above her.

What am I doing? he asked himself. She's gonna wake up and tear me apart any minute. But he didn't stop. Wishing he could reach under that shirt, and not daring to try, his fondling grew more vigorous. He lifted the breast upwards, then let it drop, feeling the nipple slide down his barely touching palm and delighting in how her tit bounced. He nearly laughed when he saw her imitate the maneuver, moaning a bit louder.

Just as suddenly as it all started, the session stopped. Maya's sighs and moans turned back into deep breathing and snores, and Andrew reluctantly let go of his prize. He left her alone, this time leaving the door ajar, and returned to the living room. Although not a religious man, he prayed his way back to the couch, please, don't let her remember that tomorrow.

He removed the porno, then began searching his collection. There was this movie, he recollected, from back in the eighties. The golden days of porn, he often called it, when people took their time, talked, stripped slowly, played out games and fantasies. He couldn't remember the title, but it involved a woman being hypnotized by her therapist, and commanded to do all sorts-

"There it is!" he whispered. "Bad". Now that was an original title for a porno. It was VHS, so he switched the input on the TV and slid the tape home. It was actually fast-forwarded to the hypnotism scene, he noticed with some satisfaction. How long had it been since he'd watched this? Five years? More? "Whatever. Let's get some ideas."

The scene lasted almost ten minutes, another thing he liked about the "classic" adult movies. They took their time on a story, usually. There were a couple more scenes involving the girl who was hypnotized, being knocked back into her sleep-state by a keyword. His psychology professor had thrown out that old legend, insisting that keywords helped the person relax and take a step towards being hypnotized; but that it was impossible to hypnotize a subject with just one word. Still, this was fantasy, and the girl kinda looked like Maya.

He was just re-watching the three-way scene when he heard Maya again stand up, this time wandering out of the bedroom. He stopped the tape, and turned to see if she needed help.

She was standing on the doorway, leaning on the frame as though her legs couldn't support her 100%. Her eyes were open again, but distant. "Andrew?"

"Yeah, Maya?" He stared at her fully erect nipples and pants hanging loose from her left hip. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Tired, but can't... " She yawned, and the pants slipped off her other hip. Andrew had no idea what was keeping them up. They should be around her ankles by now, he thought. "... can't sleep."

"Do you feel sick?" As concerned as he was horny, Andrew rose from the couch and went to her. "Do you feel warm?" He laid a hand on her forehead. No fever.

"No. Just... edgy," she slurred. She let out another yawn, a little one. "Andrew?"

"Yes?"

"D'you want me?" Her expression never changed, her voice never changed from the semi-monotone drone, but the intent of the question was crystal clear. Andrew asked anyway.

"What do you mean, 'want' you?"

"D'you thin' Um pretty?" she muttered. As she spoke, the jeans fell down the rest of the way, ending up crumpled around her ankles. She shifted, but made no move to fix them.

Andrew stared at her. Unsure what was going on or what to do, he threw caution to the wind. "Yes, Maya. I think you're beautiful." She smiled faintly. "In fact, I've found you beautiful for many ye-"

"Thanks. Goin' back tuh bed." With that, she turned and shuffled back into his bedroom. She stumbled, nearly tripping on the pants. She stopped, but made no move to fix them. Just stopped.

"Need help with your... uh... jeans?"

"Yeah. Sweet." Andrew, unable to believe his luck, leaned over (getting a righteous view of her ass) and tugged the jeans back up. They still hung loose on her, but they stayed up for the return trip to the bed. She simply stood after bumping into the bed, and Andrew had to tug at her shoulders so she would turn. Once facing him, she sat down hard.

"There you go. Try to get some sleep. You need to sleep off the pills." He tried to get her to lay back, but she resisted.

"Can't. Can't sleep. I feel... like... dreaming." She ran a hand through her hair. "Is th's a dream?" By the sound of her voice, Andrew realized she was already convinced she was in a dream. He felt like he was, too.

He decided not to answer the question. To do so would be like lying to her. Even though he had touched her in forbidden places, and was ashamed to admit he may do more, Andrew couldn't bring himself to lie to Maya. "At least lay down. You should try to sleep." Giving in, Maya flopped back, head barely missing the headboard. There was no malice in the gesture; it was simply resignation.

"Can't sleep." she muttered again, but her eyes closed. Andrew tiptoed backwards -bumping the door frame and nearly landing on his ass in the process- and went to the kitchen for a drink. He gave the Jim Beam a long, cold look, then decided against it. If he got drunk now, he might do something he'd regret. He opted for a soda. Lots of caffeine, that would do the trick. It was going to be a sleepless night anyw-

"Andrew?" The voice came from the living room, faint, almost pleading. "Can you he'p me?" He turned, and found Maya nearly falling onto the coffee table. The jeans had tumbled to her knees this time, and tangled there. She looked completely at a loss. No panic or fear was evident on her face; just that lost, confused look.

"Coming. Don't move Maya." He was at her side in a second, hands on her hips to lend balance. It took a moment for his panic to wear off and the sensation of firm hips through sheer, lacy cotton to reach his consciousness.

"Thank... sweet." She lay a limp hand alongside his cheek and smiled faintly. "Ev'n dreamin', yerr still my he... "

"Your what?" Was she going to say 'hero'? She didn't answer, the comment already forgotten. Did Maya have some kind of quiet fantasy about him? Andrew scoffed inwardly, knowing full well they were just friends. But a little kernel of doubt was forming inside that surety, threatening to burst. "Maya, do you need help with those pants?"

"Yeah." He reached down to help pull them up again, then stopped. His face was nearly level with her chest. Nipples. They were rock hard again. He had the heat turned up, and they had both been inside long enough to warm up. "Maya? Do you want to just take them off?" He held his breath without knowing he was doing it.

"Yeah," She answered as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Take 'em 'ff." she murmured. Andrew could see she was becoming lightheaded again. Well, more lightheaded, anyway.

"Okay. I'll take your pants off." He knew it was juvenile, but just saying those words gave him a thrill beyond anything in his entire porn collection. She just nodded and smiled, not even looking down at him. Being careful to keep one hand on her hip to steady her, Andrew tugged the pants down to her ankles, then asked her to sit on the couch. Kneeling between her legs, Andrew tugged the old pair of jeans off, thanking whatever fates that might be for not letting him from throw them away after Gina broke up with him.

"Thanks. Sweet Andrew." Maya slumped back on the couch, still awake but barely cognizant. Her legs lay open; Andrew remained on his knees, between hers. He just stared at her crotch. They were thin cotton, wide enough to cover her private areas, but sheer enough to make a viewer want more. The pale purple fabric bore a slightly deeper hue in a narrow vertical line. She was drunk and high, technically, but she hadn't peed herself. Andrew could smell the musky scent of her sex. Hard nipples, wet panties. Andrew was about to scream.

Finally, he stood, although doing so required a major crotch adjustment. Maya just stared at the TV with it's blue screen. Andrew had forgotten about the movie. And the fridge door, which he could see standing wide open from where he stood. "Be right back, Maya. Just stay there, okay?" She nodded.

He returned a moment later with the soda. He realized hadn't asked if she wanted a drink, and was just about to when she spoke. "D'you like m' panties?" she slurred. He almost burst out laughing. The words were absurd, but the tone was serious.

"Yes. I love your panties. They're really- " He paused. How truthful could he be? She wasn't actually hypnotized; he couldn't tell her what to do beyond making requests. Neither was she stoned, still in charge of her basic faculties, but without inhibitions. What the hell, he decided. Let's go for broke.

"D'you?" she asked again.

"Your panties are very sexy, Maya. Just like you." He winced, waiting for the backlash, or the laughter. He wasn't sure which would be worse. Instead, a broad smile crossed her face. "Thanks. Yurr sexy too. Sexy An'rew." She stood, slow and unsteady. Andrew was beside her in an instant. He wrapped an arm around her waist, steadying her. She leaned on him, eyes half-closed, breathing deep.

"Maya?" he asked, wondering if she'd fallen asleep.

"Yeah?" she muttered. Andrew, knowing she was still aware, let his hand slide down Maya's back to rest on her ass. She made no protest, barely responding at all. He gave it a soft squeeze, and Maya moaned softly, laying her head on his arm.

"Better if you sit down, Maya." At first, he tried wrangling her onto the couch, but the angle was difficult and she was unresponsive. Inspiration struck, and Andrew settled into the couch, drawing Maya into his lap. She offered no resistance, settling heavily onto his legs. Normally modest and somewhat prudish, Maya leaned back, letting her legs fall open. To Andrew, she looked like a man watching TV. Unable to restrain himself, he draped one arm around her waist, just below her breasts. The other fell between her spread legs.

Forcing himself to wait for a response, five minutes passed before Andrew made another move. "You're so pretty, Maya." She sighed, nothing else. "May I t-" He stopped. Why was he asking permission? Better to be resolute. Or would it be better to not say anything at all. Realizing this was the final test, Andrew said nothing, just acted.

Cupping her left breast, Andrew tenderly lifted it, feeling the weight of it in his hand after all these years. Maya said nothing, sighing again. Savoring the moment and the feel of her breast in his hand he simply held it, feeling the nipple slowly grow even firmer against his palm. Gently, he began to rhythmically squeeze it.

Maya moaned low and lay her head back over his shoulder. Andrew's cock swelled even more, pressing painfully against both his pants and her rear. Ignoring that discomfort, he grasped her other breast with the free hand. Soon he was full into it, rubbing and squeezing her tits with abandon. "Oh, Maya. I've wanted to touch you for so long." He tweaked one nipple, softly pinching it and rolling the hard little nub. Maya muttered, "Mmm, 'ndrew.", her breathing coming a little heavier.

"You like that?" he asked. Maya nodded, an almost imperceptible motion; but, it was all the confirmation he needed. He worked her nipples, tenderly rolling his fingers over them, flicking and tickling them simultaneously. Maya sighed and whimpered in time with his tending; she writhed subtly, grinding her hips just a bit against his lap. Andrew felt a drop of precum squeeze from his tormented cock.

Fascinated with finally being able to touch Maya's tits after so many frustrating years, Andrew spent long minutes on them. While still stimulating one nipple with his left hand, the other lifted her breast, testing the ample weight of it. It was a shame Maya covered them up, he thought. She had such a full, ripe bosom, a set of heavy C's, nearly a D. One wouldn't know it to look at her, in those sport bras, loose shirts and heavy sweaters. She slouched, drawing attention away from her full chest. Letting it drop, he smiled at the sight of it bouncing. "Watch it jiggle" he mumbled, nearly laughing. How Maya would react if she were truly aware...

He repeated the motion twice more, just enjoying the sight of her quivering tit. Finally, he let go, only to slip his hand under her shirt. The hand slid slowly up her soft belly, and Maya trembled. Once his hand touched the underswell of her breast, she sighed deeply and started grinding her hips against him again. He touched her bare tits as he had through her shirt. The soft, yet firm, flesh felt like heaven in his hands. Her rock-hard nipples pulsed with her thudding heart.

Without warning, Andrew let go of her breasts, lifted her arms and slipped the t-shirt off in one fluid motion. Maya's arms instantly dropped in her lap, as though holding them up for him were a Herculean effort. She lay back against him once again, head lolling over his shoulder, moaning and writhing in a muted, half-aware way. Andrew stared over her shoulder, appreciated the unobstructed view of her tits. He lifted them in order to examine them more easily. Another drop of cum spilled into his jeans as he savored the thought: Maya was sitting in his lap, wearing only a tight pair of panties.

Time to remedy that.

"Maya? Can you hear me?" He cringed at the stupid question and vowed to be more commanding from here on in. She muttered to the affirmative, although the words were lost to him. "Okay, I'm going to take you into the bedroom. I'm going to make you feel very, very good." Without waiting for a response, Andrew sat forward, rolling Maya around in his lap and standing up. She allowed herself to be carried in his arms without any protest.