Best Friend Ch. 01

Eventually, they had sex. The boyfriend, George, was reluctant with anal at first, but he had his mind blown after doing it. He constantly wanted to do it again.

Imani didn't share the same opinion though. Over time, anal, which used go be a pastime for her, started to feel like a chore. Sex with him was alright. You know, love, intimacy, and all that crap (her own words).

But she wanted something....bigger. Simple as that. Otherwise, their relationship was perfect; he perfectly satisfied her emotional needs.

She really did feel like he was the one. They even planned on getting married right after they graduate this year. They've been talking about it since three weeks ago and Imani said she couldn't be happier about it. This was what she wanted. She's been saving herself for someone like him.

But one night, after making her squirt so good from her ass, she said maybe, just maybe......I was that special someone she was waiting for. It was hilarious to me. I could practically see her mind turn to think of justifications for what she was about to do.

She never said she had to be married, right? A big dick can count as a "special someone."

I saw Imani grin as her cock-drunk mind justified her betrayal to herself. Her entire body shivered out of excitement.

With her ass gaping from the merciless fucking I issued on it just a few minutes ago, Imani spread her pussy apart and begged me to take the virginity she was saving for years.

So I did.

It felt great knowing she was giving me something she refused to give any man, including her fiancé. It was so fucking twisted, and I loved it.

I ended up only fucking her raw and from then on. Imani was addicted.

I was hooked on her pussy too.

One day, Imani admitted she loved being dominated by me. She also mentioned her dad and how he was the reason she forced herself to like nice guys. She said it might've been a subconscious need to look for submissive men because her dad was a typical power-hungry man who basically used her mom all the time while fucking every girl he takes to coffee. Her dad never even found the need to hide it from them. In fact, he arrogantly invited the young, barely-legal girls in their house to fuck. Imani grew up doing homework under the constant noise of her dad and his women moaning out loud in the other room. She always wondered why her mom didn't just leave her dad when he hurt her that much. If it was her, she would just leave.

Right?

In the end, Imani grew up as the strong, independent woman she always wanted to be. She told herself then that she didn't want to be someone who just took it.

She didn't want to be like her mom.

From then on, she decided to only romantically pursue weaker men--they'll never control or use her. And she did.

Until experiencing me, that is. When she heard about my big dick, she checked me out from afar. I looked tame and submissive, so she asked me out. Imani was proven wrong as I drove myself into her that night.

Imani didn't want to admit it, but she was lying to herself. She loved dominant, uncaring men. She loved men with big dicks. Sure, their sheer fucking size was the reason, but she also liked them partly because the men who had them didn't have to prove anything by pretending to care what she felt. That sort of apathy towards her comfort secretly turned her on even then. Having sex with me only proved that.

She loved feeling weak when she's pinned under me. She loved it when I fucked her like a cheap whore--the same way her dad fucked those barely-legal teenagers. I told her that was some severe, fucked up daddy-issues. She just laughed.

In the end, she said a big cock in her ass made her realize she liked feeling used. There wasn't any going back from that.

Since then, I made sure she felt that way every time I fucked her.

The few weeks after that were just us venturing around her unused pussy. I always came back to anal though. Strangely enough, being inside her ass felt like home. So I called her any chance I could and she delivered every time. At one point, she actually secretly blew me in the men's bathroom inside the cinemas while she was on a romantic anniversary date with her boyfriend. Later that night, she even sent me a snap of her kissing him with the mouth my cum was swirling in awhile ago. It was almost disturbing. She repeatedly told him she loved him too like, what kind of cheap love was that? Did she get off on saying she loves her boyfriend while doing this sort of crap with a bigger, better man? A slut to the core, I thought derisively as I jerked off to the romantic snap side by side with the hot, illicit picture I took of her earlier that day in the bathroom--a picture of her kneeling with her tongue stuck out and her face covered completely in my semen. I really looked down on Imani then. I made sure she knew that every time we did it.

She fucking loved it.

Months later, I attended her graduation. It was pretty sad and melancholic--one less fuck-buddy for me after all. But I didn't let that ruin the moment. I'm glad I didn't because, overall, I had a nice experience. Fucking the valedictorian's dripping wet pussy right after anal as she wore her black toga was pretty sublime, I'll say. Plus, I helped with her speech the day before. Until now, I still had a recording of her practicing her graduation speech on my fucking dick as if it were a microphone (her idea).

It was a weird sight to see; her performing the exact same speech about love and integrity on stage as if she wasn't mumbling it around my cock-head while pumping the base yesterday. The way she positioned her hands on it was pretty fucking similar too. I even made a recreational video of a side-by-side comparison and sent it to her the next day. Since I've made the most out of it, there wasn't any huge regrets.

I only wished I was a guest speaker so she could've secretly blown me on the podium as I deliver an inspiring speech to her boyfriend and her whole department.

But we can't have everything we want, can we? I was satisfied enough anyway.

Safe to say her diploma wasn't the one she was gripping onto later that evening. God, I remember she even missed her boyfriend walking down the aisle as he was handed his own diploma. I pointed that out then, but she just kept deepthroating my whole length sloppily.

In her wise, hilarious words as she was handily blowing me with two hands backstage, "This fucking ceremony is looong, but this dick is longer."

From then on, three years passed by in a blink of an eye. Ilya and I were already seniors. I still had plenty of women. I did miss Imani sometimes though. She's happily married with a kid on the way. We still meet up every now and then. So things haven't changed much in that regard.

I was also still pretty in love with Ilya.

Which leads us here, in the current time, with me ogling at her sleeping face.

She opened her eyes. Startled, I flinched. I didn't want her to figure out I was panicking though, so I played it cool. I opened my mouth and calmly spoke, "You fell asleep, Ilya."

She stared at me before muttering, "Yeah."

I sat down on my bed and put down the tequila shot glasses I took from the kitchen. We both lost the mood to drink.

"God, weed sounds great right now," I said, half-joking.

"I've never tried," she replied.

I looked at her in incredulously, "Really? Not even once?"

She shook her head. Wow, that was unexpected.

I spoke after a while, "I have some under all the alcohol here. Do you want to try? I'll teach you how to do it."

"Isn't it pretty psychoactive?"

"Nah. I mean borderline, sure. But it's pretty mild in small, controlled doses."

She replied with a smile, "I did hear my friends saying that."

"Oh? And you never joined them? Didn't know Ilya was a good girl," I said with a teasing smirk.

"Oh, I wanted to," she remarked.

I pulled on my closet, rummaging for the pack of weed I had kept since about a year ago. A quiet, reserved, yet surprisingly kinky underclassman who loved drugged-up sex gave it to me.

"Why didn't you?" I asked casually.

"I don't trust them that much," she replied in a factual tone.

I laughed mockingly, "And you trust me?"

"With my life," she said with a straight face.

I feel my heart skip a beat at her naked, immediate response. Fuck. She trusts me. God, hearing her say that felt so good. I guess I did something right after all. I found the weed and closed the drawers before staring at her.

I bit my lips. "Damn, I'm about to burst into tears."

"You sound like you're joking, but I know you're really about to." She rolled her eyes in a joking manner.

If only you knew.

I took a single piece. The joint looked like any other cigarette. Most people wouldn't be able to tell the difference.

"That's not a cigarette?" she asked.

"Nah. I don't smoke. Do you?"

"I haven't tried." She shrugged her shoulders.

"I get you. It just seems like something you'd hate, huh?"

"Yeah," Ilya agreed.

"I haven't tried smoking either."

Ilya laughed. She said with a sneer, "But you smoke weed?"

I laughed at the irony, "Yeah, pretty much."

I lit it up before staring at her.

"Watch. You do it like this,"

I held the joint between my fingers before gently putting it between my lips and inhaling. The whole time, I made sure she was watching, never breaking eye-contact. She was. With an excited glint in her eye.

I took it out of my mouth and gave her a couple of tips before I handed the weed over.

"Your turn. Sure you up to this?" I asked calmly.

"As long as you're here, Pete. Nothing bad would happen if you're here, really."

I stared at her for a while before muttering in a low tone, "You're right. I wouldn't let anything happen to you." I meant it.

She smiled as she put the joint in her mouth and inhaled. I didn't want to admit it, but a part of me was thrilled seeing her lips touch the same surface I had my mouth in just a few seconds ago.

It felt like an indirect kiss.

I'm not going to lie. I'm pretty ashamed something as juvenile as this was messing with my head. Especially when I've experienced sex far nastier than the common kind. A man-whore flushing over an indirect kiss? A pretty new low, if you ask me.

She gave it back to me as she relaxed and closed her eyes.

I gently muttered, a lump in my throat making my voice quieter, "You'll feel it hit after a few minutes."

Ilya looked at me and said, "Since when have you tried weed?"

When I was struggling with the fact that I couldn't have you.

Of course I couldn't tell her that. I simply told her a friend introduced it to me before I deflected the question by asking, "You've never really done weed before?"

Ilya probably noticed, but she was too polite to point it out.

"Nope. I've always wondered how it'll feel though," she answered.

"It's pretty much different for every individual. Some relax, some get stimulated."

She asked, "Which one are you?"

"Relaxed, but ironically alert and stimulated too."

"I guess they're not exactly exclusive," Ilya hummed.

I nodded so as to agree.

We spent an entire minute in silence before she exclaimed, "Oh, I'm feeling it."

I smiled. "How are you liking it?"

"Pretty well, actually. God, it feels quiet.....and numb. Although, I can feel every inch of my skin too. Wow, that's weird."

"See, what did I tell you?"

She laughed, stating, "I like it. This feeling would be better when you're doing something else though," I hear her say.

Ilya continued, "Maybe some games. Do you have something like, um, really surreal?"

"I do have the newest Spider-Man game. It's pretty great swinging around New York with all the lights lit up at night. I'd say that counts as surreal."

"Oh, Peter Parker. That guy is mighty fine." Ilya looked at me for a while and said, "You're pretty hot too, Pete. The same name too."

"Okay. That's enough weed for you, I guess," I said jokingly.

"I'm serious! Plenty of my classmates badger me about you. I don't give them your number though."

"Why is that?" I asked curiously.

"Less time to spend with you," Ilya cheekily said.

"Wow. Are you cock-blocking me, Ilya? I really thought you were better than that." I shook my head in mock-disappointment.

"Oh, please. I've never seen you date anyone. Except maybe that first date you had with, um. What was her name again?"

"Imani?"

"Yeah! That extremely hot upperclassman. Man, you were so into her back then. And I never saw you go on a date after that. So really, what cock-blocking are you actually talking about, you emotionally-unavailable man?"

"I don't have to date women to fuck them." As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I regretted it.

I never broached this topic with her. I was hoping the weed distracted her and that she didn't hear me. She did.

"I heard," Ilya replied casually. I stared at her. She stared back.

I coughed. I didn't expect to fully keep her in the dark, but still....how much does she know..?

"You hide it well, but rumors exist. You have a reputation, Pete. I'm not judging you. It's no biggie--unlike your dick."

"Jesus, Ilya! Stop talking," I begged, covering my face as it contorted out of embarrassment.

She laughed hysterically. I did too.

The next few minutes were complete silence as we relished in the feel of our own neurochemicals massaging our brain.

"You got music, Peter?"

"You're asking me? Of course I do. Wanna use my surround-sound system?"

"Fuck, that sounds great. Play something."

I connected my phone to the system briefly before playing a random song.

"Daniel Caesar? Just when I thought you couldn't get any more basic," she teased.

"Shut up. You love him."

"I do. Very much. I'm a girl though. It's technically not basic for me," she said, grinning.

After a while, she started to sing along with her cold, freezing voice, almost lulling me to sleep.

But I knew very clearly what sleep does to the frozen. So, I woke myself up.

"Have you ever masturbated with weed?" she suddenly asked. That woke me up completely. Thinking of her question though, I was surprised to find out the answer.

"No," I replied.

I was telling the truth. I've never actually tried playing with myself while I'm high

"I wonder how it feels like," she muttered.

I wasn't sure if it was the weed or my desire for her talking (maybe both), but I replied, "Me too."

We locked gazes as we basked in each other's quiet presence. She was flushed, her eyes dilated as she smiled flirtatiously. I couldn't breathe.

"You wanna try?"

I said, my mind hazy and filled with thoughts of her, "Yeah."

"Boys first," Ilya replied with a smirk.

I obliged. I told her to grab this bottle of lube on my desk. She obeyed without question. I wondered if she was this submissive in bed. Did her previous boyfriends see that side of her? I watched her rummage absentmindedly through my desk, even though the bottle was right in front of her.

I laughed hysterically. She growled and said, "Shut up."

"It's right there, Ilya." I pointed it out to her gently. Her eyes widened as she grabbed it.

She said begrudgingly, "Why the fuck did I only see that now?"

"Because you're high as fuck, baby."

I noticed my slip-up belatedly. I've never called anyone that. Well, I actually have, but it was always the moments where I imagined it was her.

Where I imagined I was making love to her instead of some other woman.

Ilya looked at the bottle. "I'm surprised, but I shouldn't be. Considering how much of a slut you are," she said lightheartedly.

I laughed at her remark as I grabbed the bottle from her hands. I breathed deeply; one minute into this charade and I was already out of breath. Electricity was painfully running through my arms and legs, reminding me that this wasn't a dream, despite how surreal it was. I put the bottle down beside me as I slowly removed my belt and pants, staring at her eyes the whole time.

Fuck, marine biologists should come up with a GPS that prevents you from getting lost in them.

I cringed internally. Sounds fucking cheesy. I conveniently blamed it on the joint.

When I unfurled my partially soft boner, I laid still and gave her a few seconds to take it in.

With her eyes. Not anywhere else, unfortunately.

She seemed startled, a lump in her throat preventing her to speak coherently. After what seemed like forever, I hear her quietly mutter, "You're pretty big."

I took the bottle cap off and poured some directly. Then, I gently stroked it to slowly spread the oil-based lube around the length and rouse my cock from sleep. I asked, tilting my head curiously as I closed my eyes in pleasure, "Good or bad?"

"I don't know. I've never tried," she replied blankly.

I opened my eyes and stared at her. Biting my lower lip, I asked breathlessly, "Would you like to?"

Ilya looked at me silently.

I said, "Kidding."

A few moments pass by and the only noises I was hearing were the ones my hands were making along with the soft, quiet music as well as my own deafening heartbeat. I unconsciously realized I was stroking to the rhythm of the song playing in background. God, was she looking at me? I took a peek. Fuck, she was.

I was high, not dead. I was perfectly aware that my best friend was currently watching me play with myself. Eyeing my body as I fucking stroke my cock up and down. I hissed at the sexy thought. I don't even know if it was the drug or her, but I was a lot more sensitive than usual.

What exactly was she thinking right now? Was it me? Was she thinking of me the way I thought of her for years? More importantly, was Ilya...liking the view? God, I wish she was.

"We're friends, Pete," she said, never taking her eyes off of my huge member.

"I know," I said through gritted teeth. My thumb, playing with my bulbous cock-head, circling the tip as I felt Ilya's gaze crawling on my skin. She blankly leaned and lifted up my shirt to my mouth. I knew what she wanted. I bit onto it as she let go. Ilya slowly put her hands on top of my naked chest, her fingers brushing off my sensitive nipples. She kneaded my pecs for what seemed like forever before suddenly pinching me. I gasped.

Electricity seemed to flood in from the part she just pinched. I moaned with gritted teeth; this was getting out of control. I was so fucking horny, I swore I was seeing stars at one point.

Right when I was blacking out, I saw her slowly grab my dick. I groaned. Holy fuck. Shit. Ilya had her hands on my cock. She started stroking. Fuck. Her hands felt so good. It felt exactly like how I imagined it would be. Fuck. Fuck.

Fuck.

I hear her take a deep breath as she ran her fingers sensually over my whole length. I gritted my teeth; I'm way beyond my limit. It felt like the drugs were amplifying a mini-orgasm. The thought that this was Ilya's hand I was feeling only sent my head reeling harder.

The last straw that broke me was when I saw her other hand travel between her pretty legs.

I've had enough. I kissed her. Ilya seemed startled before she gently put her arms around my neck and obliged--I don't know why. I clearly didn't think this through because I never expected she would reciprocate. I was stunned.

But god, it felt so fucking good. Her lips felt amazing on mine. My thoughts turned messy as I kiss her deeper. I slowly press her down, running my lips in every part of her face. Carefully, I put my hands under her shirt and ran my fingers from her stomach to her ribs. She felt so soft in my hands. Ilya took off my shirt and uncaringly threw it on the floor. I partially took off hers in exchange. Our lips press against each other as our tongues danced haphazardly. She reciprocated everything. Our kisses slowly became a lot more rough. Lightly biting at her already swollen lips, my tongue traveled down her pretty neck and chest--all the way down to her stomach....