Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people shouldn't be surprising since most of my stories are based on people I know. While I hope you enjoy this story and are compelled to provide feedback, I don't expect the subject matter will appeal to everyone who reads it.

I had no idea why I was having so much trouble falling asleep; I was physically tired and hadn't consumed any caffeine, but I guess I just wasn't sleepy. Before I completely annoyed the guy I was sharing a room with by tossing and turning all night, I finally got up and just figured I'd hang out downstairs where I wouldn't bother anyone. As I made my way down the hall to the stairs, I could hear the snoring of what sounded like everyone else who was on the retreat. We were in a big, old farmhouse out in the woods and had spent the day doing maintenance and landscaping, a volunteer activity that most of us participated in at least a couple of times a year. The work had apparently worn out everyone except me, or so I thought. At the bottom of the stairs, I could see through the kitchen and into the living room, where somebody sat on one of the couches with a lamp on and her back to me. It looked like Karen and, when she turned to see who was crossing the squeaky floor, my suspicion was confirmed.

"What are you doing up?" she asked, once I was close enough that I'd be able to hear her whisper. I sat beside her on the couch, noting that she wore a white nightshirt with apparently nothing under it.

"Couldn't sleep," I replied, "and you?"

"I couldn't sleep, either," she said, "I felt as though I'd had an espresso with dinner...wide awake."

I could tell that the wheels were spinning inside her head; Karen was a modern-day hippie who saw a deeper meaning in every event, no matter how minor. While she figured out why we both ended up awake in the middle of the night, my eyes dropped to admire her body. She had pretty large tits, that appeared to be standing up pretty firmly despite the apparent lack of a bra, and though I couldn't see up under her nightshirt, I checked her hips and didn't see anything through the white material that suggested she was wearing panties. The idea of her being naked under her nightshirt was very appealing but I had to be careful that I didn't pitch a tent in my lounge pants. I doubted that she'd reach the conclusion that, if we were both awake, we might as well get naked and have some fun, so I was trying to think of how else I might get a peek at what was under her nightshirt.

"This may sound weird," she started, finally speaking again, "but I'm getting this strong feeling that we're meant to make a connection tonight, that's why we're both awake but no one else is."

I was afraid that meant talking and sharing our feelings until she pulled her nightshirt up over her head. I'm sure my eyes went wide and my jaw dropped as I tried to take in her luscious tits, topped with large areolas and hard, thick nipples, and her trim, dark blonde bush. As she lay back against the end of the couch, I...