tagAnalMy Best Friend's Girl

My Best Friend's Girl

byDolma Kalem©

21st September

“Come on Steve, we’ll lose time on the court.” Steve was being harangued as usual by Nicky for leaving her with the two children to feed and put to bed. I’d only known Steve and Nicky for three months. In that short time, Steve and I had discovered a mutual interest in squash. We’d become good friends, and it seemed that we’d known each other forever. Steph, my wife, had met Nicky at school functions. They’d hit it off, and suggested a Saturday night get together for quiet drinks. Steve and I had immediately clicked, similar sense of humour, similar interests, sport (all varieties), work, and families. As couples we were completely different, but we were all mid thirties and we got on famously. As Steve got in the car, he said,

“This is getting beyond a bloody joke, how do people get out for five hours to play golf? She’s moaning on and on about me going out, but we’ll be back together at your place in two hours, after I’ve stuffed you at squash”.

“Dream on mate,” I staunchly replied as I drove away. However, he was probably right. He had the better all round squash game. In the five games we’d played, I’d won two. But I’d been reliant on a cruel serve. It was aimed to come out of the sun into the backhand corner, and then roll down the wall. Properly executed, the receiver needed to be eight foot tall, have a good backhand, and very lucky even to return it. However, if my serve was less than perfect, Steve would take command, and the tee. He was a big powerful guy, and the rest of the game would involve me desperately trying to return his shots from wherever on the court he’d placed them. Fatigue usually won, as did Steve.

“She’s had her hair done today, been out all afternoon! I watched the kids while she had a nice pamper at the salon. I hardly saw a try in the rugby match.”

“You didn’t miss much, most of the game the ball was in the air. Why don’t they play more like the Australians? They play the running game.”

“I know what you mean, anyway I’m out now. Looking for a good thrash on the squash court. I hope your serve is crap tonight.”

The game went as predicted. My serve was crap! It held together for the first game, which I won. I spent most of the next three games following the ball into various corners of the court attempting to ‘dig’ out a shot, which would put Steve under pressure. I did play some good shots, but he was always in control and won the three games fairly comfortably.

We showered. Steve wore his trunks, as usual. And then adjourned to the squash club bar for the ‘final game’. Just one beer, and some conversation about the week’s trials and tribulations before returning home to the girls. Steve was ex armed forces and now working as an engineer at a local factory. He loved his work, but he’d told me that Nicky had designs on an improved standard of living. She’d been encouraging him to ‘moonlight’ as a security guard driver on his days off. I suppose that that’s fair enough, but since Nicky herself didn’t work other than as a housewife, I confess that I thought she was being more than a little unfair. I’d never said anything to him, other than bemoan when our squash matches had been cancelled in the name of money.

My job as a travel agent manager was fairly lucrative, although very hard work, so part time work was not an issue. It also allowed me some flexibility with my hours. So if Steph fancied a day out for any reason, I could simply arrange a day off.

We dispatched the weeks issues, mainly football, rugby, some current affairs and a small amount of indecent discussion about a female TV presenter. The latter topic introduced by me I must admit. It may be true that men think of sex quite a lot, but they rarely talk about it. And even when they do, it is without any relationship attachment whatsoever, simply sexual. We set off home via a liquor shop for provisions, wine for the girls, and beer, of course, for us.

When we got home, Nicky had already arrived and the girls were halfway through a bottle of the house white wine. The beer and conversation began to flow. I was shattered from chasing Steve’s shots around the court. Steve was in good form, and the girls were enjoying themselves. Nicky had recovered from the ordeal earlier and was chatting away to Steph.

“Lets play Trivial Pursuits,” Steve suggested.

“Steph, do you know where it is?”

“Of course, it’s in the unit, would you like to get it darling?” she smiled. Damn, she’s spotted and rejected my coded request to stay in my current position on the floor. I dragged my tired frame to its feet and recovered the game.

“Girls against boys?” said Steve.

“Not a chance, we’ll lose it on the sports questions,” said Nicky. You and Steph, play Joe and me.

“Ok by me” I said.

“And me,” said Steph.

I’ve never played such a relaxed game of trivial pursuits in my life. I was laid on my side on the floor resting my head on my hand, with Nicky knelt beside me. If you count cheeses in place, we were winning. But neither of us could add to our score and finish the game. After a short intermission for a snack we carried on our tour of the board. The alcohol, music, and warmth in the lounge was having a narcotic effect on us, all of us uncharacteristically uncompetitive. Each question triggered two or three minutes of conversation before an answer was volunteered. Time for the team asking the question to either talk amongst themselves or doze. The food break seemed to have made the lethargy worse.

The picture was almost dreamlike. Nicky was looking particularly attractive, in a skirt and fitted polo neck woolly jumper. If, before this evening, you’d asked me to describe her to you, I’d have simply said tall brunette with big tits. I know that that will sound outrageous, but she wasn’t really my type, so I’d not looked too closely before. However, knelt beside me in profile, with this relaxed atmosphere I was able to see just how good a shape she was. Her perfume smelled pleasant, and her breasts looked perfect. I couldn’t see much of her legs, but the bit I could see looked fine. This was terrible; I was ‘stirring’ looking at my mate’s wife. I lay on my stomach for a while, but that only seemed to make it worse.

Eventually the CD finished, and Nicky offered to put another one on. I stayed where I was, and was greeted by a good view of her long legs as she got up and walked over to the HiFi. She selected some CD or other, and then knelt down to load and play it. After two attempts:

“How do you operate this damn thing?” she said. Reluctantly I got up and knelt behind her, my chin on her shoulder.

My, her perfume did smell nice! I reached around her in golf lesson fashion, pushing various buttons to select the tracks she’d asked for. This took a few seconds; Steph and Steve were still deep in consultation about the last question. Something then came over me. The closeness, the warmth, the music, her perfume, Hell I don’t know! But once the first track began to play, my hands went and cupped her breasts, squeezing gently. The fraction of a second that they were in place, they were able to confirm just how fantastic her tits were.

However, they were definitely unwelcoming. She stood up immediately, I fell backwards and she marched back over to where we had been a minute ago. I followed her and regained my place. She then moved back a full four feet further from me. She had an expression like thunder! I didn’t look at Steve or Steph in case I made the situation more obvious. I simply started to read the next question, and hoped to god that no one would notice, and that Nicky would forgive me.

The un-finish able game continued. After a little while, and lots of soft requests from me for consultation on answers to questions, she returned to her position alongside me. Thank god, I thought! Maybe she’s forgiven me. I tried to avoid any further problems, but in spite of my mistake I was still ‘stirred’, probably more so, but now I had to behave myself. This self-control was severely tested after about half an hour when a tired Nicky lay down alongside me resting her head on my stomach. Nicky’s head and one hand were resting on my bare flesh in the gap between my shirt and my trouser waistband. Her fingers moved occasionally causing tremors in my stomach muscles through to my groin. Her finger tips were separated from my very excited ‘friend’ by millimetres, any movement from her or me stood a fifty percent chance of blowing my cover. I was hoping that she wouldn’t move too much, otherwise I’d be in trouble again! She did seem to be very relaxed, so maybe I had got away with my indiscretion?

Eventually tiredness overtook us, and the game was abandoned. We broke up for the evening, and we said our goodbyes at the door. I gave Nicky as little eye contact as I could get away with. I didn’t want to push my luck.

24th Sept

After a couple of bad days, I’d decided that I must talk to Nicky to apologise profusely for my unforgivable behaviour on Saturday evening. I’d been like a cat on hot bricks since Saturday. Had Steve noticed what happened? If Steph had, then she’d said nothing. Our relationship was still cordial, but was Nicky intending to point out to her what a shit she was married to? I also wanted to know how to approach Steve. Was I going to get a black eye, or worse next time we met? I hadn’t known them for long enough to predict either of their behaviour. Would my secret come out? I’d taken Joe junior to football on Sunday morning, and never seen a thing he did. He’d kept looking expectantly at me as he fell in the tackle, but nothing was registering in my mind. All my thoughts were taken up with what I’d done the night before, and the possible ramifications.

Life at the office yesterday seemed unimportant, and my attitude to the staff had been detached. I needed to sort this out, put things right. Steph had a meeting this morning so I left home, opened the shop, got the staff going, and then went into my office to phone Nicky. After three or four attempts, I concluded that I couldn’t do it by phone. It needed eye contact to overcome my likely clumsy use of words. I was simply going to throw myself upon her mercy, a pathetic approach I know, but this is my first and last offence, surely I deserved a stroke of luck. Hopefully she’d understand. I pushed her number.

“Hi Nicky, it’s Joe. I just wanted to nip round and talk to you. Is that OK? There was a long pause.

“What about Joe,” she said in a quiet detached voice.

“Nothing bad I promise, but I just need a few moments of your time.”

“OK, but I’ve just taken the kids to school, you’ll need to give my fifteen minutes or so.”

“No problem, see you in fifteen minutes. Bye.” I put the phone down, sweat running from my brow.

“Are you ok?” said Stella my senior Travel agent. She’d walked into the office as I was replacing the phone.

“Yes why.”

“You seem a little flushed.”

“I think that I’ve got the beginnings of a cold, I’ll nip out in fifteen minutes of so to the chemist for some ‘Night nurse.’

“Good idea, I’ll look after things while your gone. Stella was a couple of years older than me, and she’d worked in the travel industry for all her working life. So I had no worries in leaving her in charge. I was lucky to have her, and I’d just recognised that by awarding her a seven percent salary increase. Which reminded me, I hadn’t told her yet. Now wasn’t the time though, my mind was on other things. Oh, in addition to her knowledge of the travel industry, she had fantastic legs.

The next fifteen minutes were the longest of my life. After twelve minutes I was in my car on my way to Nicky’s.

I knocked on her door, my mind racing trying to arrange some coherent explanation for what I’d done, to no avail. The door opened, and Nicky said:

“Joe, nice of you to call, come in. Would you like a cup of tea, or coffee?”

“Coffee would be lovely, thanks.” I followed her through into the kitchen. Nicky watched as the kettle took a few seconds to boil. I watched Nicky as she watched the kettle. She had her back to me. I nervously considered that although she appeared friendly, there had been minimal eye contact between us since she opened the door. It seems odd, but the absence of conversation, and my nervous state, my senses began to concentrate on her appearance. She had on a white long sleeved blouse, a dark pin striped miniskirt, and dark tights. The blouse was not transparent, but it allowed enough of a view to see clearly her bra and straps.

“Are you going out?” I inquired.

“No why?” she replied.

“Oh no reason, I just didn’t want to keep you from anything important.” She finished the drinks.

“Should we go into the lounge?”

“Sure.” I followed her through into the large lounge. She sat on one of the two-seater leather Chesterfields, and I sat on the one opposite. I regretted the seating arrangements almost as soon as I sat down. Nicky looked very smart, the blouse had a modest vee neck, but it was fitted. I could see that her bra was a half-cup lacy garment. This seemed only to accentuate her breasts, the cause of my troubles. Whilst the blouse was opaque enough to prevent a view of her breasts, it was clear enough to reveal where the cups began. This was almost at the tip of where I imagined her nipples must be. In addition, she had crossed her legs and the skirt was revealing most of her nylon clad upper thighs. My thoughts now, were not what I’d come for! In fact I’m ashamed to say that I was again ‘stirring’.

“To what do I owe this pleasure? Surely you should be at work?” she said.

“Umm, yes probably,” I began clumsily. “I wanted to talk to you about Saturday evening.”

“Saturday? You’re not going to tell me off for my useless performance at Trivial Pursuits are you? To be honest I just couldn’t be bothered, I was just enjoying the conversation and company. We must do it again soon.”

“No absolutely not, I enjoyed it as well. I didn’t give a stuff who’d won.”

“What then? I didn’t make a fool of myself, did I?”

“No, no, you didn’t. You were lovely. I wanted to apologise for my behaviour.”

“What behaviour, you were good company.”

“No I wasn’t, you are being too kind to me. I don’t deserve it.”

“Sure you do, you’re a nice guy.”

This wasn’t going well, we both couldn’t occupy the moral high ground, so in the end I blurted out:

“Nicky I feel absolutely awful for taking advantage at the HIFi, when I grabbed at your breasts. I don’t know what came over me; honestly I’ve never done anything like that before. Your response was very understandable, and tolerant. You could have slapped me and made a scene. Please forgive me.”

“Oh forget it.”

“Honestly, It wasn’t planned. I was almost as shocked as you when I did it. Er, something just came over me.”

“I believe you, now forget it.”

“Thanks, I don’t deserve it. But I needed to talk to you. Your friendship is very important to me; I just wanted to make amends. I’d better be getting back to the shop.”

“But you’ve not finished your coffee.”

“I’d better go.”

“OK.” She walked after me to the front door. At the door I turned and said:

“You’ve been very kind, if there’s anything I can do to make it up to you, please don’t hesitate.”

“Ok,” she whispered leaning forward. She then touched my lips with her finger. “You’re a nice Guy.” She then leant forward again and kissed me gently on the lips. This wasn’t helping, I was now completely fully ‘stirred’! “Did you mean it?”

“What?”

“Anything?”

“Sure.”

“Do it again!” she said, her eye contact looked directly into my soul.

“Are you kidding?” Her left hand took mine, and her right hand undid the second button on her blouse. She lifted my hand and guided it into the now partially open garment. I couldn’t help myself. I responded, sliding my hand into her blouse and onto her right breast. Still she looked at me as I explored the magnificent partially covered soft flesh.

“Does that feel good,” she said?

“Magnificent.”

“Don’t hold back,” she said and then kissed me again. That was the event horizon, or no turning point, as far as I was concerned. I was now in a very tight embrace kissing her as hard as I could, and exploring her breast with my left hand. I felt her arms over my shoulders holding me in a tight embrace. I slid my right hand around her waist onto her bottom, and traced out its delightful shape over her skirt. I released her breast from its cup and examined it in all its unadorned glory. My right hand pulled her bottom towards me, and held our bodies very closely.

“I can feel you,” she whispered into my ear. “I can feel you through your trousers.” I slid my right hand down to the hem of the skirt and onto her legs.

“Touch me,” she whispered. My hand slid up the back of her left leg onto her pantyhose clad bottom. It slipped between her legs and touched gently around the crotch of the pantyhose. This exploration continued, progressing slowly, until my fingers searched out the waistband of the tights and forced themselves down onto her bottom.

“Take me to bed,” she whispered.

“Are you sure?” I replied stupidly. She never answered me; to my frustration she broke away ending my delightful explorations and locked the house door. She again took my left hand, in her right and led me to the staircase. I followed her up stairs, taking every opportunity to look at her legs and bottom. She started to take off her blouse, which was removed completely as we reached a bedroom. She led me into the room, and closed the door.

She was now stood in front of me, in just her lower garments and the half-cup bra. Her right breast was still exposed, revealing a wonderful pink nipple and areole. I pulled her towards me and we kissed passionately. I used my right hand to release her left breast and began to explore it. I took her right hand and slowly placed it on the crotch of my trousers. She grabbed hold of ‘him’, (I prefer in circumstances like these to think of him as another individual, since he’s clearly not under my direct influence.) and had a reasonable attempt at masturbating me through my trousers.

After a few seconds of confusion, and to my frustration, she dropped onto her knees robbing me of my fantastic playthings. She pushed me back against the fitted bedroom unit and in almost one move, undid my belt and trouser band, and ripped my trousers and boxers to the floor. My penis was almost vertical, and seemed to be much bigger than I’d seen him for a long time. Most of ‘him’ disappeared immediately into Nicky’s mouth as she attempted to masturbate me to a world record rapid climax.

I stood there, feeling more than a little, like a bystander. This was not going like my normal sex technique. I liked to spend a certain amount of time on each focus of attention. Left to my own devices, I’d have still been massaging or sucking Nicky’s exposed breasts, possibly widening my attentions onto her crotch. However this was like trying to run alongside a runaway lorry.

I managed to avoid the almost inevitable consequences of Nicky’s endeavours only by planning a detailed travel route to the Hindu Kush from London via Delhi, avoiding anywhere with place names beginning with vowels. As I was arriving at my destination, ‘he’ was still buried somewhere in Nicky’s throat. Suddenly she leapt to her feet, kissed me fairly violently, and whispered,

“Fuck me, fuck me now!” It wasn’t so much the words, more the eye contact that confirmed that my normal programme for sex activities could be retired for the day. She threw herself back onto the bed, her legs apart and said:

“Take them off, take them off now.” Since I didn’t have them on, and from the way she was holding her legs in the air, I assumed that she meant her tights. I put my hands up her skirt and grabbed at the waistband. Nicky closed her eyes and moaned:

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