One Night

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Best friends forever with a bond that will never be broken.
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Life had been good to Chloe. She was perfectly aware of being a cliché Southern Belle but felt this only accentuated her already irresistible qualities. Petite, with a cascade of golden hair that rippled like dawn on the Mississippi, tiny gravity-defying breasts, and a constant tan, she never wanted for dates or doting from her parents. Mama was proud that her daughter had inherited her own stunning beauty, and Daddy was sure his little angel would go on to be a strong and successful Southern lady.

Brett had struggled to keep his head above water, determined to live up to his family's standards even if that meant he had to work a lot harder than most kids in his family's income bracket—born to an industrious and driven businessman and a kind yet meek mother, he had made a Herculean effort to please his father and live up to his mother's unspoken but obvious wishes.

Naturally, once he began school, the embodiment of this dream happened to be Chloe. Both attended the same exclusive private school. Their parents ran in the same circles. Brett and Chloe became fast friends even during the later years of childhood when the sexes usually seemed to be repelled by one another.

She would come to his house to ride the horses his father acquired like prime real estate, each bred meticulously for optimum beauty and stamina. He would go to her house to walk in the peach orchard or hide beneath a vast grape arbor, the two of them pulling fruit off the trees and vines despite genteel admonishments from Chloe's mother, and then hiding behind some snowball vibernum to devour their forbidden treasure.

But as happens with all childhood friendships, theirs was tested. The constant efforts of Chloe's parents to breed a proper young lady combined with Brett's efforts to learn the skills of a businessman made maintaining their closeness difficult at best.

Chloe set out for all the right pursuits. Cheerleading, school government, and spending her free time reading beauty magazines or being courted by the star quarterback. Brett met a distraction by the name of Amy McFarlin, the mayor's impossibly beautiful red-haired daughter with endless curves and charm, neither of which he could resist.

The shifting social circles of St. Alfonse High soon meant Brett and Amy grew ever closer, while Chloe and Robert Martin—the most promising football player in the class—became serious. Floating on the turbulent tide of popularity was never easy, and everyone who belonged in that elite, sea-faring class knew that the head cheerleader—recently crowned homecoming queen—and the handsome lead footballer were destined for great things.

Brett would take his father's stallion—Caesar— riding past the verdant stretch of Chloe's lawn and fight off the reminiscences of afternoons as sweet as Concord grapes and as bright as fine white peaches. He cared for Amy, and when the moment was right, he wanted to show her just how much, by taking her to his favorite spot in the wood behind his house. But the thought of Chloe and Robert nagged at his guts. Irritated by this internal conflict during yet another ride which should have been peaceful, he gently nudged the horse's sides with his boot heels, and it started into a hard gallop.

It was May. Prom season and graduation weren't too far away. Chloe's mother planned a party to celebrate her daughter's admission to Vassar. They had shopped for three months to accumulate a wardrobe she could take to college with pride, and her custom prom gown was nearly complete.

Brett's father kept trumpeting on and on about his fine boy getting accepted to Harvard's School of Business, and his mother eagerly set about planning a soiree that would rival that of the lavish event for Chloe to be held the preceding afternoon.

Checking his watch, Brett realized he needed to head back home to shower and get ready to take Amy out. He planned for them to have dinner at her favorite French restaurant, and then go horseback riding as the sun set. This combined two of her favorite activities that they enjoyed often, especially now that the weather was favorable for both.

When he arrived at the house after tending to Caesar, his mother sat at their carved oak dining-room table, looking through the silver she had stored away.

"Hello, Brett." She smiled, her green eyes dazzling in the pale afternoon light. "Are you getting excited about your big day? Your father says that the two of you can get out to the Mercedes dealer next week to pick out the car you'll take to Massachusetts."

Brett saw the quick glint of proud tears dancing in her eyes before she blinked them away, getting to her feet to embrace her tall well-built son. "Oh Mom," he sighed, a boyish grin spreading across his face as his mother's arms wrapped around his waist, her face beaming up at him from just below his chest. "Give yourself a break from all this planning. Go watch a movie and eat some Häagen-Dazs for God's sake! I won't tell Daddy."

Giggling, she reached up to tap his chin gently.

"I don't work out so hard for nothing, sweetheart. A minute on the lips, forever on the hips they say, and I believe them. Now go get cleaned up. Amy called and said she'd expect you around seven. Oh, and I almost forgot. Chloe called while you were out."

This last sentence was relayed with just as much surprise as his mind had in comprehending it, and he paused en route to the broad staircase, a puzzled expression on his face.

"What did she want?"

"I don't know. She asked me if I'd have you call her as soon as possible."

Brett shrugged, taking the first two stairs in one long step. "All right. Thanks."

Upstairs in his bedroom suite, he grabbed his small silver cell phone and scrolled through the personal phone book until he got to C. Wallace. She gave him her newest phone number as a matter of course one day in class, but when he repeatedly tried to call her to invite her to his graduation party, he only got her voice-mail message.

With his door closed, he relaxed and kicked off his shoes. Propping his feet up on the antique wingback chair near his bed knowing full well that this would give the housekeeper a heart attack, he hit SEND and listened as her phone rang. In seconds, she picked up.

"Hello Brett," Chloe's voice, as cool and silvery as a Rocky Mountain stream, filled his ears, as familiar as his mother's embrace and yet so different and womanly as to give him pause.

"Hey, Chloe. Mom said you called while I was out riding."

"I know. I saw you ride past out my window." Something pensive in her voice caused him to drop his feet to the floor and sit up straight.

"Is everything all right? You sound upset."

"Oh no, everything's fine. I got my dress for prom today and it's absolutely gorgeous. I don't think Daddy will spend that much again on a dress for me until I get married! But I was wondering ... well..."

"What?"

"Come over later. I want to talk to you before we graduate. I mean like we used to, you know? The day after I graduate, we're going back out to the Banks to stay with my Aunt Natalie, and then I'll be back here just for a week or two before I leave for Vassar. I won't get to see you for a while, and I've missed just hanging out."

"I would, but I have a date tonight."

"Well, when you take Amy home, then. I'll be up. Just come the way you usually did. I'll leave the back gate open and meet you by the arbor. I really want to ... just a second." She covered the phone and shouted something, most likely to Abby, their housekeeper. "Okay. Anyway, I have to go. Just come on over after you take Amy home. See you later, Brett." And then there was silence.

"If you take a picture of me, Brett Marshall, I will kill you!" Amy threatened, jeans halfway up her shapely legs as she struggled not to stumble on the pant legs. "I swear to God!"

Brett smirked, gazing at his girlfriend's narrow waist, crimson bikini panties, and pale upper thighs with his finger ready to capture the moment forever in electronic history.

"But you look so hot!" He chuckled, watching as she zipped and buttoned her jeans, tossing her red silk dress, matching heels, and red suede purse into the back of her car. Horseback riding required a change of clothes. Brett didn't mind that Amy took the opportunity to change in front of him.

They held hands as they made their way out to the stable, Amy tugging the pins from her hair to let it tumble in abundant curls down to her shoulders while he got the stallion saddled up and ready for a ride. At the beginning of their relationship, they would take two horses, but they had long since given that up for the closeness riding Caesar together provided.

The sun was low in the sky and tinged red as they took the path that led into the rolling acres of woods behind Brett's house. Amy clung to Brett's back, captivated by the beauty of the sunset as they crossed the open field and approached the shadow of the woods.

"Mama says I can come see you at school this winter," Amy's voice was a soft purr just behind and below his left ear, her velvety lips grazing his neck. "I have to cover my own expenses while I'm there, but Daddy will pay the fare there and back."

"Great," Brett responded, feeling her tight embrace around his waist and the soft press of her ample breasts against his back. "I don't know what I'll be doing for certain yet, but I'll let you know."

"I know you will," Amy's tone was self-assured and certain. "I'm still waiting to hear back just when I'll be going to school in Savannah, but I think it's a good start. If I want to go to NYU, I have to begin here. I think it sucks, but that's Daddy's rules. He never listens to what I want."

"Yeah. Fathers are good at that."

For the thrill she'd gain, Brett spurred Caesar on to an all-out gallop. The graceful animal leapt over logs and cleared a small stream in a single bound. Amy giggled and whooped, tightening her grasp on Brett as they penetrated deeper into the forest. At last they neared his favorite part of the shady landscape—a small pond ringed with flowering bushes and reflecting the deepening blue sky above.

Tethering Caesar to a nearby branch, Brett slid off the handsome beast's back and pulled Amy along with him, their feet landing in an emerald cushion of grass. All around them, crickets came out for their nightly serenade.

"Last one in gets more mosquito bites." Brett declared, flinging off his shoes and socks and hurriedly stripping down. Amy paused, hesitant to follow suit, but he offered a reassuring smile as he moved toward the water. "Don't worry. It's just occupied by frogs and a few small fish. No leeches that I'm aware of ... though I'll be more than happy to help you check once we're out."

"I bet," Amy chortled, beginning to undress as well, mindful of Brett's brief gaze as he slipped between some bushes and into the water.

The notoriously fair skin that accompanied her hair color tantalized Brett. He peered through the screen of bushes to watch her place the folded bundle of her clothes on her shoes, and then approach the bank of the pond, her hands discreetly folded over the trimmed delicate red lace of her sex. Affording her a bit more privacy, he turned and moved deeper into the water, gaining the center of the pond in a few long strokes.

Amy's breathing echoed and reverberated off the rippling pond surface as she joined him, her body a few inches from his as they both gazed up at the sky, now dotted with stars as if handfuls of glitter had been tossed above their heads.

"So what was the reason for spiriting me away out here?" He felt the soft brush of her wavy hair against his shoulder like anemone tentacles. "Are you trying to woo me into giving it up beneath the grandeur of the stars? Because if you are..." Her arms slipped about his waist and he started to tread water more furiously to stay afloat. "I might be persuaded."

Their eyes met, and hers were vibrant and glittering as they searched his glass-green gaze. The kiss that followed was inevitable, and her hands left his shoulders to move to his waist, one reaching down to encircle the upward projection of his cock despite the cool water that surrounded it.

Brett felt as if he were a fire and her touch was gasoline. This wasn't the first time she had touched his penis. In fact, she had actually given him an unbidden blowjob two weeks earlier. But something about her touch here in his sanctuary made even this relatively chaste act seem more intense than usual.

Amy was intent on her task, but she began to relax and suddenly found herself dipping below the surface. Her mouth was filled with water, and she giggled and spluttered as she pulled away.

"Come on, sailor. Let's go ashore."

Bullfrogs gulped and leapt along the bank as they swam back to land and climbed out, totally heedless of the chill the night breeze gave their damp skin.

Brett tugged free the blanket he had flung over Caesar's saddle, and they sat down together in the violet light, embracing and continuing where they'd left off.

Amy was on fire tonight. Brett's hands were allowed not only to squeeze and fondle her exquisite breasts, but when he let one stray down to the ginger curls of her pussy, she did not protest. In fact, she splayed her legs wider for him to gain more access.

"Will you miss me when you go away to school?" Amy panted, Brett's fingertips reverently stroking her swollen outer lips. In truth, this was about as far as he'd ever made it with a girl, and he was unsure of how to continue.

"Yeah." His answer was brief and distracted. Amy's sure grip on his cock faltered. He sighed, realizing his misstep and bending to suck her neck in an attempt to mend it. "I'll miss you a lot."

Her confidence renewed, Amy's fingers worked more rapidly. He wanted her to ease up. He hoped to go beyond what they'd done up to this point, but knew that he couldn't hold out much longer if she kept at him.

"I love you, baby." She moaned, as he grew brave, letting his fingers dip into her hot folds. She shivered, falling against him as he laid them on their sides facing one another, his mouth seeking hers. The kiss was intoxicating, until she broke free to make another declaration. "I've been thinking ... wouldn't it be great if we got married? I mean we'd still go to school, but..."

"Hmmmm?" His hands still explored, but his mind began to race. Married? At eighteen? Was she crazy? Where did this come from? The fact that she let him touch her pussy did not mean they were engaged.

"We could get engaged, go to college, and get married when you graduate. I love you, Brett. I want to be with you forever."

He tried to kiss her into silence, avoiding the unwanted attack of her words. Yes, she was gorgeous. Yes, he longed to have sex with her. But did he want to be with her for the rest of his life?

The sudden and jolting malaise that assailed his thoughts soon spread to his body. He felt himself growing soft in Amy's hand, and his ears began to burn.

"Awwww..." she cooed, letting go of him to fling her arms around his shoulders. "Are you cold, poor baby? Let's get back. We can go for a drive."

Gaining a sitting position, Brett listened as Amy made her way over to her clothes. She paused to give a soothing pat to Caesar, and then started to dress. Reluctantly, he got up and folded the blanket, preparing for their ride back to the house.

Night expanded all around them, giving the leaves a silvery quality and making tangled shadows on the forest floor. Brett hoped she took his silence as delighted wonder at her confession, but he was stunned and inexplicably disappointed. He just turned eighteen. His life was unfurling before him, it was limitless and full of varied possibilities. This anxious and bright-eyed outlook extended to the women he would meet along the way. Amy was a great girl. But great enough to marry was an entirely different matter.

Ahead of them, they soon saw the lights of his house through the trees, and the closer they got to home, the more convinced he was that things were going to end badly with Amy tonight.

Amy was nuzzling his shoulder, her hands playing with his shirt as they approached the stable.

"I'm so worried about my calculus exam," she sighed, sliding off the horse as Brett led Caesar into the dim building to rub him down and settle him for the night. "Ms. Charles is such a bitch, and I've had to work so hard just to keep my good grades in her class."

Brett seized the opportunity, uttering a bit of profanity beneath his breath.

"What's up?" Amy hurried in behind him as he unfastened Caesar's saddle and tugged the saddle blanket off the patient stallion.

"I totally forgot about that damned exam. I've been so busy reading up on my Shakespeare and finishing that term report that it's kind of been low on the priority list." It was a flimsy start, but it was all he had. "Listen, baby. Can we go out later in the week?"

Amy's expression of good humor faltered, and she forced a smile that did not light her eyes. "Yeah. I suppose I should study, too. Are you going to stay up late tonight? I could sign into our messenger program and hook up my web cam. Just in case you need a little inspiration to keep going." A playful brush of her hand over his crotch and a wink was offered, and he let a soft smile curl the corners of his mouth.

"Sounds good." He returned the favor, bending to kiss her cheek. "Love you, Amy. I'm not trying to blow you off. I just want to get some of this studying out of the way so I won't be distracted next time."

"I hear you. Well..." She leaned up on her toes to plant a slow and sultry kiss on his lips, rubbing her breasts suggestively against his chest before disengaging to run back to the car and hurriedly change into her dress clothes.

"I'll talk to you later," she called as she jumped into her car and sped down the winding drive toward the road. He figured Amy was smart enough to know something was up, but she was well-mannered enough not to push.

The shower felt invigorating as Brett lathered his hair. Alternative rock music blared from his room, and the remnants of a microwave pizza sat on a plate near his computer.

As he washed, he thought of the mysterious call from Chloe. He hadn't intended to end the evening so quickly with Amy, but the m word had effectively quashed his lascivious intent.

Closing his eyes, he took his time in the warm water as it cascaded down his back and ass. An image of Chloe crossed his mind, becoming clearer and more precise as it developed. A memory of her sitting on the hood of Robert's car last week soon made him forget about the warmth and pleasure of the shower. He could see the bright May sunshine playing upon her pale gold hair, her small breasts shown off to great advantage in the black midriff top she had worn beneath a white blouse that day. She also wore a black skirt and sandals, and she had been enjoying one of her favorite vices. Chloe's delicate fingers cradled a cigarette. Her lips were painted the color of black cherries, and her long legs were crossed, one luscious hip straining against her skirt.

Warm tingles crept along Brett's nerves. As he focused on a specific detail like the languid blue gaze of her eyes or the way she had smiled and tossed her hair out of her face, he felt himself harden. He never stopped caring about Chloe, even when they had grown apart, and she was certainly attractive. But he hadn't thought about her in this light in a very long time, not since junior high when he'd started to notice the changes in her body.

His hands relaxed at his sides, and then with one, he reached forward and grabbed his lengthening cock. His hand was still slick with shampoo, and he curled his fingers around the tip, unable to help the short thrusting motions of his hips. He thought of Chloe's full red mouth. His hand moved faster. The tiny hint of cleavage her top offered. His other hand reached down to rhythmically squeeze his balls. The contrast of the black skirt against her beautiful flesh...

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