tagFirst TimeHart's Desire

Hart's Desire

byMatthewK©

Waking up, Sheila Hart didn't need to glance at the alarm clock to know it was too early for her to get up. However, her bladder insisted, and the twenty-one year old sighed. Rolling out of the nice warm bed, she quietly padding to the bathroom, completely unconcerned that she was naked.

After relieving herself, she cupped a hand and drank a little from the tap, washing the aftertaste of sleep from her mouth, and studied herself in the mirror.

Shoulder-length auburn hair framing her oval face, complimented with a slender nose and thin lips, she was very pretty, not needing make-up to enhance her looks. Most people thought she was still in high school. As a redhead, going to the beach this summer hadn't really changed her naturally pale skin any, aside from the slightly-noticable tan lines from her bikini. Obviously she inherited her fair skin from her mother, along with her aquamarine eyes. Going a tanning salon was a thought, but there were still reports on the news making her leary of being bombarded by vast amounts of concentrated ultra-violet radiation. She didn't need cancer, thank you very much.

Looking down at herself, she was proud of her athletic figure. Thanks to a love of dancing, soccer, and healthy, gourmet-quality meals Jesse prepared every day, her slender build had just the right amount of feminine curves in her opinion. Because of it, she often looked taller than her five and a half feet.

She could almost cup her firm breasts completely in her hands, and in the sticky heat of the summer it was a blessing not needing a bra. Unlike other girls she showered along side in her soccer team, her aureola and thick nipples were quite pale. At least the girls never teased her about her petite breasts.

What she was truly proud of was her bare pussy. It had been her own mother, during one of their mother-daughter talks entering puberty, who'd suggested keeping her vagina clean-shaven. Not for appearance sake, but it was easier to maintain when it came to hygiene, and felt better wearing briefs or thongs. As she was in most things, her mother was right. With its noticable dimple and well-defined cleft, it was easy to understand why some of her teammates were envious of her pussy.

Advice her mother had given her years ago came to mind. Never be anybody but yourself. If someone doesn't like you for who you are, quirks and all, then they're not worth being a friend. Smiling with renewed pride, she nodded at her reflection. Damn right, mom. Damn right. There were enough guys out there willing to get into her pants; she wasn't going to debase herself just to lose her virginity.

Stepping from the bathroom, Sheila paused. That was freshly-brewed coffee she smelled. Peering over the bannister, the kitchen light illuminated the grey carpeting of the hallway at the base of the stairs. Debating going back to bed, the aroma was too enticing to ignore. Returning to her room to struggle into a tight-fitting jersy, more to ward off chills than to conceal her nudity, she headed downstairs.

Entering the large kitchen, she tiptoed across the cold tiles and went straight to the young man sipping a coffee at the oak dining table. Leaning over to kiss him on the cheek, she got a warm smile in return.

"Good morning," she greeted, feeling far more awake than her usual sluggish morning routine. Seeing it was six in the morning, she was grateful it was Saturday. "I hope I didn't wake you up."

Jesse Wolf shook his head. "Not at all. I just got down here when I heard you getting up. I made another coffee if you want."

"Thank you." Giving him another kiss, she padded to the counter to mix herself a mug. His coffee always tasted better than hers, and his cooking couldn't be beat. Coffee in hand, she joined him at the table.

Wearing only a pair of black boxers, where most mornings he was fully dressed before coming downstairs, he was absently rubbing his scarred right shoulder, glancing through his college textbook.

Having been best friends since they were kids, they were sensitive to each other's moods. Ever since the car accident eleven years ago that nearly claimed their lives, they were inseparable.

Losing his entire family four years ago, Jesse had inherited the house and sizable inheritance. As he lived alone with no other relatives, Sheila was more than happy to move in at his request before they enrolled in college together.

Because of their bond, she sensed something wasn't right with her friend, and rubbed his forearm.

"Hey there," she said gently, ducking her head to look in his eyes. "What's wrong?"

Jesse tried to shrug, but winced doing so, not going unnoticed by her. "Nothing, really. I think I just slept wrong. That's all."

Having cared deeply for each other for years, they knew warning signs of trouble, usually being able to help before problems got out of hand. Right now, she didn't think something major was wrong, but neverless felt concern.

Only a week younger than herself, Jesse was still thin as he was as a teenager, but every now and then she noticed he was developing a muscular build playing hockey, especially on his hairless chest. He was definately attractive with his square jaw, narrow nose, and hazel eyes. Masculine in almost a boyish way, he didn't need to be a stereo-typical muscular hunk to be a man.

However, it wasn't just his looks people noticed with his shirt off. Where she'd been lucky to escape the car accident when they were ten with a faint scar inside her left thigh, where she'd nearly bled to death, he hadn't been so fortunate. His broad back was scarred. While others cringed seeing it, Sheila found they were badges of honor. The doctors said if he hadn't used his own body as a shield to protect her when the dump truck broadsided them, some of the wreckage he took in the back would have killed her. She owed him her life, and had never forgotten that.

What a shirt didn't hide was his hair. Wearing it long, most of it was brown. However, from the top of his head down to the tip of the bang that swept over his right eye, the long patch was pure white, a result from the accident. They said it came when the car's roof had crumpled inward to pin them, a jagged piece slicing through his scalp where the white was now. She vividly recalled being trapped, before the paramedics came, not knowing if her motionless friend was dead. His blood trickling onto her, she'd screamed over and over, not from pain, but thinking he was dead. Thankfully, she rarely relived it in her nightmares. Personally, she loved the white patch of hair, and still tease him he was part skunk.

Sheila also knew him intimitely too. Since they were little and continuing into this summer, they'd go skinny-dipping in the small river in the bush behind the subdivision. Seeing each other unclothed so much, it was no shock when they caught the other naked, especially going to and coming from showers and in the morning as they both slept in the nude.

Most of the time she saw his circumcised cock soft, the pubic hair over it and his scrotum thin, much like the hair on his limbs and stomach. She'd seen it erect quite a few times, too. Bending like a banana, the thick shaft was topped by a large head that reminded her of a fireman's helmet. They'd measured it erect before, and she'd been surprised to find it was only a little over six inches. Because it was so thick and well-formed, she'd guessed it was closer to eight inches, though guessing measurements was hard for her.

Despite being so-called average, she thought it was just the cutest thing, soft or hard, and loved the times she spied it. Over the years, many nights she masturbated thinking of Jesse and his cock. Granted it was the only one she'd seen in the flesh, but it still heightened her lust when horny. Sheila was sure he masturbated thinking of her too, and the thought always left her feeling warm and sexy.

Right now she wasn't thinking of his cock. Her best friend didn't look any different this morning, but she knew something at the very least was bothering him.

She covered his hand with hers. "It's your back again, isn't it?"

He looked like he was going to deny it, then thought better of it and simply nodded.

Damn, she thought. She should have known he wasn't feeling well as he went to bed early last night. She'd sensed something then, but thought he was just tired.

"I almost forgot. You had that date last night," Jesse mentioned. "How was it?"

You sneaky skunk, Sheila thought, amused at his skillful change of topic. He'd be by her side day and night if she needed him, but pretended his problems were minor things. He did it she suspected not to appear manly, but felt guilty when she looked after him, feeling he was a burden. She thought it was horseshit, and told him that more than once, yet he still down-played his problems.

"It was okay," she replied, "until we left the restaurant. We were going to catch a movie, but getting in his car, suddenly he was a whole different guy."

Jesse's expression darkened, a sign his protective streak was kicking in, but held his tongue, willing to hear the whole story before reacting.

"Yeah," she agreed with his unspoken thoughts, "he was another one of those guys. I really thought this time it was going to be different, but it wasn't. He didn't even start the car before he was pawing me, saying stupid things like, 'C'mon baby, ya know ya want it' and other crude things. Bring a girl out to dinner on the first date and she's supposed to be your little love doll right afterwards. He even dangled a condom in front of me, as if we were going to do it right there and then."

Seeing Jesse's expression darkening more, she held up her hand to forestall an outburst. "You know I wasn't going to put up with that," she continued, "so I got out of his car. He had the gall to get out too and grab my arm, telling me I owed him and I was going to sleep with him to pay it off."

Suspecting what was coming, a small grin came to his lips. Sheila on the other hand was grinning from ear to ear. "You guessed it. He's not going to be pissing that well for at least a week, not with the kick I gave him. Guess he forgot soccer players are very good at kicking balls," she laughed. "I hoofed it to the nearest bus stop and came home. You were asleep when I got back, so figured it could wait until morning."

"I hope that bastard won't be able to have kids now," Jesse said maliciously. While he knew she could take care of herself, he was still like a wolf protecting its mate when it came to her. "It's guys like that who should not be allowed to pass on their genes, making another bastard to infect society with."

"I agree whole-heartedly," she said, rubbing his arm. She was grateful he was so protective as it made her feel special, and it let her see how deeply he cared for her. "I think I'm going to cool it with the dating scene for a while. I don't seem to be having any luck, so I'll quit while I'm ahead."

Shifting in her chair, she gave Jesse a stern look. "Now that you know how my night went, let's get back to you," she said, poking his breastbone with a finger. "Why didn't you tell me you were in pain last night?"

Shrugging, he winced again. "It wasn't too bad. I figured get some sleep and it be better getting up."

"But it's not better, is it? I didn't think so. You've had this before, and you know I can help. I wish you would stop trying to pretend nothing's wrong when there is. So many times you've bent over backwards for me, and I won't accept doing less for you. Understand?"

Standing, Sheila brought their empty mugs to the sink and returned to take Jesse's hand, pulling him from the chair. "Let's see if we can at least ease some of your pain. No buts, Jesse. You know it worked before."

Surrendering, he followed her to the second floor. While he went to bathroom, Sheila went to her room to get the oil and peel off her jersy. Then going to the master bedroom, she grabbed the old sheet from beneath the king-sized bed and had it laid out by the time he returned.

She turned to face him. "Drop 'em," she smiled, pointing to his boxers and jerking her finger down.

Doing as she asked, he climbed onto the middle of the bed, grimacing from the movements. When he was stretched out on his belly, she joined him to kneel at his side. Seeing the scars brought back the painful memories of their creation, but she pushed it aside, concentrating on Jesse's needs.

Sheila had bought the vanilla-scented massage oil not only because it was non-toxic, but edible too. Over the years helping ease Jesse's occasional back pains, she'd become skilled massaging him, and took any opportunity to practice on him. Not to mention the added bonus of seeing and feeling him naked. She also knew he eagerly enjoyed the sight of her being naked above him.

"This is going to hurt for a while," she warned, rubbing her hands together to warm the oil. "Try to relax and let my fingers do their work, okay?"

When he nodded in understanding, she started on the back of his neck, kneading firmly. His muscles felt like granite beneath her strong fingers, a sign he was long over-due for this. Though he tried to remain quiet, gasps and groans of pain still escaped. She hated the thought of hurting her best friend, but it was only temporary pain, and was benificial.

Moving to his shoulders, the texture of the puckered scars felt neat under her fingers. The largest scar began on the right side of his rib cage and cut up over his shoulder blade to the front of his collar bone. The torn metal which created it was one of two four-foot-long swords of wreckage that would have impaled her clean through, killing her if he hadn't deflected them with his back. As her hand ran over a circular scar on the ribs, Jesse gave a short, harsh cough, his entire body spasming in pain.

"Oh God," Sheila cried in horror, whipping her hands from him. "I'm sorry, Jesse. I forgot it would do that."

"No prob," he managed through clenched teeth, his body sagging as the momentary agony passed. "It's just my body remembering, reminding me I'm still alive," he chuckled, the pain in his voice robbing some of the humor from his words.

Sheila remembered too. The scar was from the second long lance of metal he prevented from reaching her. But where the first had sliced upwards across his shoulder, the other stabbed between his ribs, piercing a lung to emerge out the front of his ribs. Even now she recalled the bloody six-inch spike sticking from his chest as he hung over her in the wreck, the echo of his scream as the wreckage impaled him sending a shiver through her. She didn't know if there was a higher power in the universe, but if there be, she was grateful it kept Jesse with her.

"I'll be more careful," she promised, hesitantly continuing the massage. Working slowly lower, his grunts lessened, strong muscles finally relaxing with the release of tension. When the back was done, she leaned forward to do his arms, the oil allowing her fingers to slide effortlessly despite the pressure she applied. The air was filled with the aroma of vanilla, their favorite scent besides freshly-brewed coffee in the morning.

Shifting position slightly, she applied more oil to knead his buttocks, enjoying how the firm flesh and muscles clenched and relaxed beneath her fingers, and the tiny gasps of pleasure Jesse made. She loved his butt, both nude and in tight jeans. Working his legs, she secretly smiled watching his bum wiggling from massaging the sensitive backs of his thighs.

Finishing with his toes, she sat back on her heels. "Okay, time to roll over, rover," she giggled.

Jesse complied, his short grunt a far cry from his earlier pain-filled moans.

"You don't have to do my whole body," he said. "I'm feeling a lot better now."

"Oh no. You're not getting away that easy, Jesse Hunter Wolf." On impulse, she suddenly swung her leg over his narrow hips, easing her firm buttocks onto his thighs. Her hairless pussy rested on his scrotum, its hairs tickling it slightly. In response to the touch of her warm flesh, his cock throbbed several times, thickening to become semi-erect. She pretended not to notice as she started with his arms.

"There," she said in amusement, "you're trapped. Let's see you get away now."

"I don't think I can," he admitted, his grin matching hers. "Or that I'd want to."

"That's right," she laughed, leaning over to give him a kiss on the lips. "I got you, and I'm keeping you."

His former groans of pain were becoming moans of pleasure as she worked his muscles. The feel of his slippery skin under her fingertips was luxurious, and she concentrated on prolonging the massage.

"Jesse, can I ask you something," she asked out of the blue.

"Sure," he replied. "You know you can anytime."

"Well," she began hesitantly, "last night, as I was going to bed, I got to wondering. I've been trying to find a guy for a while now, granted without luck. But, except for the girl you took out started college, I can't remember you dating anyone else. I can't get why out of my head."

"Oh, that. It might take a bit to explain."

Sheila grinned coyly. "That's okay. I'm not letting you go for a while."

"Well, in that case," he chuckled. "How do I explain? I think in part it's the girls I meet. At first all of them seem nice, but the moment they find out about the house and truck, suddenly I'm the catch of the day, and they want to move right in. And of course, that means getting rid of you." He shook his head. "No way that's going to happen. I don't care how nice they seem. Remember the obsessive girl two years ago?"

Sheila frowned at the memory. "The one calling at all hours of the day and night, hanging up whenever I answered? Wasn't she also the one who practically staked out the house looking for you?"

"That's the one," he answered with a grimace. "It's that type that turned me off dating. Since then, I guess I got discouraged and a little scared to try again, if that makes any sense."

She nodded. "I understand perfectly. That's why I've decided to cool it myself. But I heard you say that was part of the reason. It's more than that, isn't it?"

"Damn, Sheila, you know me too well," he laughed.

"You better believe it. Come on, Jesse, it's okay to tell me." Done with his arms, she sat up straight, resting her hands on either side of his waist, waiting. In that position, her arms were pressing her small breasts closer together, creating a bit of cleavage he couldn't help but notice.

"It's going to sound pretty wierd, I think," he warned.

"Maybe," she replied, gently rubbing her fingers on his breastbone, "but it doesn't mean I don't want to understand. No matter what it is, you won't offend me. You know that."

"That's true," he granted. "Well, here goes," he said, taking a deep breath before explaining.

"We've known each other, and been best friends for, what now, fifteen years? You've always been there for me, looked out for and after me, and know me better than anybody can. More than a few times I've wondered if you can read my mind."

Sheila laughed. "I've wondered the same thing about you sometimes."

"Exactly. This'll sound corny, but I feel you're my soul-mate. I can't imagine life without you around."

"It's not corny because I feel the same way," she admitted, tenderly stroking his cheek. Unconsciously he nuzzled her hand. "I never doubted we were meant to be best friends. Even mom has said many times we're two peas in a pod."

"So true. Looking for a girlfriend, I guess I've based the ideal one on, well, you. You're smart, wise, caring, patient, funny, and playful. Everything and more someone could look for in another."

"Flatterer," she whispered affectionately.

"If flattery is being honest, then guilty as charged. I know basing a possible girlfriend on you will leave me a lonely man. You're too special to compare other girls with because no one can come close to you. Ever since you moved in, I feel I don't need a girlfriend. Seeing you every day is more than I could ever ask for."

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