My Best Friend's Affair

"Mandy, hi! I've been waiting for you!" Jaime turns to me with a big grin. That impish smile, the boyish face, they never cease to charm me. He is very good looking, in a way that makes you feel at ease rather than uncomfortable. He has a warmth and grace that shows itself with the calm, casual way he placed his hand on my lower back, and a tenderness leaves me powerless. He lead me to an elevator, and pressed up. We get in, ride to the third floor, and get out. He steers me towards room 316, unlocks it and pulls me inside.

Jamie is one of my best friends. It feels like I've known him forever. We are both attached, and I have never thought myself to be that beautiful. Over the last few years, my affection for him has deepened, and I never allowed it to become anything more than a silly crush. I told myself I was happy, he was happy. He couldn't really want me. I'm overweight, and awkward.

And yet, somehow, I couldn't quite shake the feeling that he desired more from me than mere friendship. He was always finding reasons to touch me, be near me, talk to me. The way he looked at me made my heart flutter. I began to see him through different eyes. I no longer want to be just friends, either. Once, he confessed his feelings to me.

"I've had a crush on you since the moment I met you," he'd texted me. I was floored. I didn't know what to say. "I have too," I sent back.

And we began a dangerous game. We would text every day. It started out fairly innocently, but soon we were typing out our longing. A love letter with every push of the send button. After less than a week we were planning on how we could just steal one kiss. You know, he once made a comment about how much women should be worshiped. That's the best way to describe that kiss, like he was worshiping me with his lips. Like I was a goddess, and he was an undeserving mortal. I've never had a kiss so full of passion and gentility. The thought of it still takes my breath away.

And now, here he stands. Looking at me in that too awe-filled way. Making me go weak at the knees. He reaches up and puts his hand to the side of my face. I turn and kiss his palm.

"Jamie," I breathe into it. He pulls me close and kisses me. Slowly, teasingly, he explores my mouth with his tongue like he's never tasted anything so perfect. Like he'll never get to kiss me again. His kisses are like honey wine; sweet, strong and intoxicating.

"Mandy," he whispers as our lips part. He starts kissing my cheek and down my neck. Oh, God, I love when he kisses my neck.

"Jamie," I say, tears in my eyes, "this can't happen. We're just going to end up hurting Ella." My boyfriend, Sam, is fully aware, and approving, of our time together.

He pauses in his kissing, not moving his head, and whispers to me, "Just give me one night. That's all I ask. The memory will be enough to keep me for a lifetime." Another kiss. I am putty. No one has ever made me feel so desired in my life.

His hands are sliding down my shoulders taking the straps of my dress with them. His kisses begin to trace my neck downward, settling into my collarbone, as he reaches behind me and unzips the pale blue fabric that is the only barrier between his eyes and my body. As he lets my dress fall to the ground, he steps back for a moment to look at me. Suddenly every curve of my body, every soft part that I had tried for years to firm, is no longer undesirable. I had been so afraid to have him see me for what I am. But as he looks I feel transformed from an overweight, insecure woman, to the goddess of perfection he has always told me I was.

His hands find my breasts, as his mouth begins to explore my neck, my chest, my arms. I reach out and began to unbutton his shirt. He pauses his activities only long enough to shrug it off. My hands run down his chest and abdomen, and once at his waist, I unbutton his pants. He slides them off with one smooth motion. Our bodies are both bared to each other, the way our hearts had been bared these last few weeks. I place my hand on his heart, and he places his on mine.

Then, he picks me up! Right off the floor! No one has ever done that for me. He swings me around, to lay me on the bed. He kneels between my open legs, looking at me as though asking me permission. I place my hands around his face and look him in the eyes as I say, "I need you, Jamie." Slowly, almost reverently, he enters me. It's like electricity. A thousand volts are coursing through my veins with each inch of his cock that pierces me. He begins to move back out, then in again.

My God, I've never felt this way before. I never knew sex could be both intense and soft.

"Mandy," he says, "you are an amazing woman. I feel so lucky to be with you."

Then he kisses me, speeding up his tempo as he does so. He pushes all the way in with each stroke, deliberate, no effort wasted. He cups my breasts, lightly pinching the nipples, as he continues to speed up. Every stroke is perfect, and I am fast approaching the most intense orgasm of my life.

When he breaks the kiss, I see that he, too is very close. His body is slick with sweat, and he is trembling slightly.

"Let go," I say. "We can come together." A few more strokes, and there it is.

We both scream with the release, the devastating power of my orgasm rushing through every inch of me. I throw back my head and give into the crushing waves of pleasure.

As he collapses off of me, I draw close to him, nestling in his arms.

"I'm so sorry," he says.

"For what?" I ask.

"I wanted to give you more."

I look up at him and kiss him lightly on the lips. "My darling Jamie. We have all night for that. For now, I am happy, and I am satisfied, and I am whole."