BFF

University was the first opportunity to get away from home permanently and I took it. It wasn't that living at home was all that bad. It's that my mother was a control freak and constantly reminding me about my responsibilities while I was under her roof. Her to-do list was unending. She added new tasks almost before the one at the top was finished. She left me little time for a social life or a job and barely enough time to do my homework.

Fortunately, my father was the breadwinner and good enough at it to fund my continuing education completely for all four years with enough to cover moderate expenses on the credit card he gave me.

Living in the dorms was mandatory for all first year students. I wasn't much more comfortable in the dorm than at home. The room was Spartan, the food barely editable and the privacy non-existent. Getting a good night's sleep was equally difficult. My roommate had a propensity to entertain coeds who were indifferent to me being in the room and his moaning while whacking off when he was not entertaining kept me awake at night and on the defensive most of the time.

The first opportunity to abandon dorm living came at the end of the first year and I took it. I worked it out with my father and got a one room, second floor apartment not far from campus and a job to cover the additional expenses. I found some minimal furniture at a local Goodwill store and dad gave me one of the old televisions from home. I left it up to him to explain to my mother why I was staying at school for the summer.

The room was as Spartan as the dorm but it was mine, alone. It was a heady freedom.

By the way, my name is Kirk. Among my mother's many issues, she was also a Star Trek fan.

Midway through the fall semester a young lady about my age moved into the studio apartment across the hall. She was attractive, well proportioned and, frankly, the first girl since high school that I took more than a passable interest in.

However, my fantasies were over ambitious. We became friends. Her name was Maxine but she preferred Max. We spent many hours together talking about the usual philosophical ideas abundant in most college students. Over time, we became more casual with each other, indifferent to what we did or didn't wear and forgetting to close the bathroom door when peeing. It was a friendship that would last a lifetime and I was unwilling to venture anything more erotic.

However, she was a woman.

One evening, Max and I were curled up on my second hand sofa watching Columbo or The Rockford Files on my father's television that was balanced on a wooden cable spool I picked up a local work site. Max had fallen asleep on my arm and had slid down until I was holding most of her body in my lap. It wasn't unusual. Max frequently fell asleep in my lap and it wasn't a problem, until that evening.

She was wearing an oversized white t-shirt that barely reached the top of her thighs and nothing else. That also wasn't unusual. Sometimes she wore panties and sometimes she didn't. I couldn't figure out the pattern and I assumed it had something to do with whether her laundry was up to date.

That evening I was fading in and out of sleep myself and thoroughly enjoying the comfort and warmth of Max sleeping in my lap and watching her breasts beneath the thin t-shirt fabric rise and fall with her breathing. Absentmindedly, I began to stroke her arm and then her side over the t-shirt.

Max began to hum softly as I stroked her. Then, without apparent reason, she wiggled around and onto her back in my arms. I could reach almost as far as the top of her thighs as I continued to stroke her body. I struggled with my conscience about what to do and lost to my dark side.

I slowly moved my strokes toward the center of her body, centered on her navel. Max's humming morphed into something akin to a coo. I slowly lengthened my stroking until I was just touching the underside of her breasts and the top of her pubic hair through the t-shirt fabric at the bottom. Her soft coo became a gentle pant.

Emboldened, on my next stroke I ventured to cover the area of her pubic hair over the t-shirt. I lingered, my fingers floating in the soft pillow of pubic hair. Max's hips moved upward slightly, daring me to further explore her pubic area. I was extremely pleased at her response and my courage. Maybe my fantasies weren't just imagined.

That's when the fuckin' fire alarm went off.

It wasn't unusual, just inconvenient. It was usually the idiot on the third floor who tried to microwave Chinese take out in their original containers or fell asleep while something was heating on the stove.

Max woke with a start. "What the fuck ..." she muttered.

I got to the door just as the building superintendent was coming up the stairs. There was thin smoke in the third floor hallway. "It's okay," he said. "It's that jackass Harold again. He's dangerous. I'm going to try to have him evicted," he shouted as he turned the corner and started up the stairs.

I closed the door and walked back to the sofa. Max was sitting there, yawning and rubbing her eyes. Her t-shirt was bunched around her waist allowing me a peek at the perfect triangle of my earlier attention.

It's just Harold again," I told her.

"I think I should be heading home," Max said.

I was disconsolate. I walked her to the door. We hugged as usual. I watched as she crossed the hallway, entered her apartment and closed the door before I closed my door.

Sleep was almost impossible that night. My head was flooded with possibilities, all destroyed by that idiot Harold on the third floor.

The next evening, Max and I shared a pizza for dinner and headed back to the apartment house. We stood in front of her door. The atmosphere seemed strained. "TV tonight?" asked Max.

"I'd like that," I told her hoping for a repeat of last night.

"Give me a few minutes to get changed and I'll be over," Max said.

I agreed. Max entered her apartment and I entered mine. I left the door unlocked so Max could come in when she was ready.

We settled on the sofa and put something on the television that neither of us was very interested in.

"Kirk," opened Max. "Did something happen last night?"

I pondered her question for a moment. Max might have mistaken my pause as thinking. "Nothing that I can think of," I replied. "We were watching television. You fell asleep and Harold ended our evening. Why?"

"I had unusual dreams last night," Max shared.

"Anything you'd care to share?" I asked.

"I dreamt that you and I were ... how can I say this ... more than just friends."

"I thought we were more than 'just friends,'" I said. We have the kind of friendship that most people can only hope for."

"No, more than that," explained Max. "Something sexual."

"Would that be so bad?" I asked. "Lots of friendships include benefits without ruining the friendship."

"It seemed even more than that," Max said.

"If it helps," I said. "I had a similar dream last night."

"You'd be okay with it?" Max asked.

I held her hand. "Max," I said. "With or without benefits, our friendship is solid and I would never consider anything that would damage that."

She kissed me quickly on the lips. "I need to think," she said. She turned and headed across the hall.

Saddened, I turned off the television, turned out the lights, undressed and went to bed.

Twenty unsettled minutes later, I was still awake. The door to my apartment opened. I could make out Max's silhouette in the doorway. The bottom half of her t-shirt had been torn off to just below her breasts, exposing her midsection and she was wearing panties.

She turned, closed and locked the door and started toward me. I rubbed my eyes and the next time I looked Max was only a few steps from the bed and her panties were on the floor half way to the door. Her girl parts were on display. I could see the thin folds of her major labia outlining the entrance to her vagina. Her minor labia were extended below and between her swelled outer lips. Her labia seemed to be focused on me.

She knelt on the edge of the bed facing me. Her labia seemed to be calling me. "I'm done thinking," she said.

"Benefits?" I asked.

"No. Something much more than that," she said.

"I don't understand," I said.

"We'll talk later," Max said. "Right now I want you to kiss me."

She bent over me, her breasts swinging below the barely covering t-shirt and kissed me. We had never kissed like that. She tasted incredible and her aroma telegraphed her arousal with predictable results.

I kissed her back. Max ended the kiss and leaned up. "Don't leave," I implored her.

"I'm not going far," she said. She pulled the light sheet off me. "Roll on your back."

I slid toward the center of the bed and rolled on my back. Max removed the rest of the sheet, exposing my body in full. "You sleep naked," Max commented.

"I do," I confirmed.

"I like naked," Max admitted.

She stripped off the torn t-shirt and tossed it in the direction of her panties.

"Oh," I sighed.

"You like?" she asked.

"Like hardly expresses my true feelings," I told her.

Max reached for my hand and placed it on her breast. Simultaneously, she gripped my erection in her other hand. "I like too," she smiled.

I palmed and squeezed her breast. She stroked and squeezed my cock. Our friendship deepened quickly.

"Close your eyes," ordered Max.

It would have been foolish not to close my eyes. She touched my eyelids with her fingers and then kissed each one. Suddenly, her breast was out of reach and my erection without attention. I kept my eyes closed as she straddled my hips. Her hand found my erection again and I felt my glans slide between her labia as she lubricated my erection with her fluids. She paused for a moment and then pushed down on top of me. I slid a short distance within her. It was incredible. I opened my eyes briefly. Max's eyes were closed and her expression was angelic.

I closed my eyes again and focused on the feeling of Max sliding down with me within her. I felt her stretching as I entered her. She was a tight fit but, unlike OJ's glove, she settled with me fully inside her.

I wasn't a virgin, but being inside Max for the first time was a new experience. There was a level of intimacy and trust that had been growing with our friendship. There was no subject I couldn't talk with Max about, no feeling I couldn't share and, now, no sexual favor I couldn't experience with her.

The emotional content of Max riding my erection surprised me. The feelings diffused throughout my body, including my genitals. Sooner than I'd ever experienced, the urge for release built to uncontrollable levels. I grabbed her hips and, at the last possible moment, I pushed her up and off me. My ejaculate hit her first on her abdomen and pubic hair and the rest landed on my chest, stomach and pubic hair.

"What?" exclaimed Max. "What the hell? Why?"

"Max," I said with some emotion. "I'm sorry but I had to. I couldn't cum inside you. You could get pregnant and I didn't want you to have that happen."

"You don't know that I'll get pregnant," explained Max. "I won't. Not today. Not ever."

"I don't understand," I said.

"I'm on birth control," explained Max. "And I don't see me getting pregnant anytime soon, if ever."

"I didn't know," I said sheepishly.

"My fault," confessed Max. "I should have told you. We've talked about almost everything else. I don't know why I didn't tell you."

"Everything except sex," I reminded her.

"Well, that starts now," said Max. "You tell me what you like and I'll tell you what I like."

"About sex?" I asked.

"About sex," she confirmed. Then she became quiet.

"Is everything okay?" I asked.

"Kirk," said Max softly. "Have I screwed everything up?"

"Just me," I quipped.

"I'm serious," stated Max. "Is everything okay between us?"

"I don't follow," I told her.

"I mean us," she said. "Are we still friends?"

"Why wouldn't we be friends?" I asked.

"We just had sex," said Max. "That's a lot more than friends. I liked it. I want to do it again. Can we still be friends if we are having regular sex?"

"Of course," I opined. "We can still talk about everything, share our thoughts about everything, including sex and still be friends. Friends before sex and friends after sex. Sex doesn't change anything. If anything, it makes us even better friends. And," I added after a short pause, "I like the idea of regular sex with you."

"Then you owe me one," smiled Max.

Owe you one?" I asked.

"Yeah, you owe me one. Next time I want to feel you cum inside me," insisted Max.

"Nothing that I'd like more," I told her. "Other than that, how's your day been?"

"What?" laughed Max.

"Friends talk," I explained.

"You're an idiot," said Max. Then she jumped on top of me and kissed me. "Ready to pay your debt?"

"I don't think I've had enough time to recover," I told her.

"How much longer?" she asked.

"I don't know," I responded. "It depends on how much encouragement I get."

"What does encouragement look like?" asked Max.

"I've always been a fan of oral sex," I suggested.

"You mean blow jobs?" asked Max with a smile.

"I mean oral sex," I explained. "Blow jobs are only half of it."

Max involuntarily covered her genitals with one hand. "Oh. I think I'm going to like being your friend."

She slid off me and fondled my limp cock. "Looks like encouragement is in order."

"Feels like encouragement is already started," I offered.

"Then this should feel really good," Max declared as she slid her mouth over my cock.

"Oh," I exclaimed.

The intensity of her focus had my reluctant penis responding in minutes. "Ready to pay your debt?" Max asked.

"First things first," I declared.

I pulled her up on me, rolled her on her back and kissed her. Her legs separated and I positioned perfectly to settle the IOU. Instead, I kissed down her body with special attention to her nipples, until I was able to suck her clitoris between my lips.

"Oh!" she exclaimed.

Her response was quicker than mine. Within seconds, Max was squirming on the bed and nearly losing it. I slid back up on her body and entered her without pausing for her to take a breath. Her back arched and her vagina squeezed me as her orgasm seized her body. When her hips returned to the bed, I began a series of strokes within her with the intent of keeping her on the edge.

Panting, Max managed to ask, "Still didn't cum inside me?"

"Not yet, but I will," I told her.

Another orgasm wracked her body.

"Please, cum in me soon," begged Max.

The third time was the charm. Max came and I followed with an eruption of my own.

"Oh! Oh!" moaned Max.

I lay on top of her, slowly withdrew my remaining erection and lay alongside her on the bed. "That was worth waiting for," she admitted. "I'm going to like this friends with benefits arrangement," she added with a huge smile.

That was forty-eight years ago. Max and I are still best friends and forever is a real possibility. Our sexual appetites have diminished little over the years. Frequent sex and playing with our five grandchildren keep us busy in our retirement.