Just Friends

I should have known what was going to happen. He wasn't being particularly subtle when he invited me over for wine and nature documentaries. But we had gone on three dates, or rather we had spent the afternoon together three times before and he hadn't even presumed to touch me, not a kiss, nor a hand on my knee. I figured we had settled into being friends, and I had gotten very behind on my Netflix cue.

I also should have known myself better. When I got dressed in a sundress with a lace bra and no panties- I should have seen my choices and clothing oversights were hints into my own need. I liked him, and it had been so long since I had had anyone between my legs.

I walked up to his apartment with the breeze rustling my skirt around my legs, and a bottle of bubbling rose in my hands. The wind gently kissed my pussy. It was a lovely free feeling, like I had a secret, and the cool bottle in my hand promised giggles and relaxed inhibitions. But my conscious mind claimed again that this was just friendship, just an afternoon drink.

He answered promptly when I texted that I was in the lobby, he was dressed casually in some navy joggers and a t-shirt from some sports team I didn't recognize. His apartment was clean, and there was a soft smell of lemon and bleach. I was flattered he had cleaned for me.

We settled onto his couch in front of his obnoxiously large tv. At first, we sat close but not touching. I tucked my legs under me, careful not to flash him, or to let my quickly dampening pussy touch the light fabric of the couch. In moments there were penguins, sea lions, and whales all over the screen, and I was becoming more and more aware of his warmth beside me, aware of his clean male smell. I found myself looking at him more than I was looking at the screen. I almost reached out to him, but before I could he stood and offered to pour the wine. I agreed and resettled myself.

"He's just a friend," I told myself, "it's a good thing, I need more male friends after university, and he's one of the good ones." I was reassured for only a moment. He returned from the kitchen with the wine in actual wine glasses. I melted. He handed me the glass from behind the couch and his scent wafted over me, I also saw how his arms flexed as he moved. I took a deep breath, but that just filled me with more of his scent.

"Did I miss anything?" He asks as he settled back next to me on the couch. He sits closer this time and his thigh brushes against my knee. He holds his wine in his right hand and lets the left drapes along the back of the couch behind me. Before I think I lean into him settling my head in the crook of his shoulder. I feel his stiffen for a moment and I freeze. But when he relaxes I do too. I've always said that friends should be able to touch each other, to snuggle even without it being sexual. And it's not. Not yet.

We watch quietly for a while, sipping our wine between inane comments on the animals. I can feel it warming stomach then the warmth spreading to the rest of my body. I snuggle closer, he is so warm and smells so good, and his shirt is so soft. He stands suddenly when I rest my hand on his thigh. I worry that I have insulted him, but he simply returns with the bottle of wine and refills both out our glasses.

I'm nearly done with the second glass, and the second episode begins. I feel his eyes on me and look to meet them. I expect him to look away, but he holds my gaze, and eventually I am the one who looks away. I have forgotten that we are just friends, I just want to feel more of him.

I give up on watching the show, I swallow the rest of my wine and set the glass aside. I carefully settle into his side more firmly, he holds me closer as well. I inhale his scent and let my hand rest on his knee. He doesn't move, and slowly, carefully, I let my hand trail higher and higher up his thigh. I am about halfway when his arm slides from the back of the couch and rests on my shoulder. His fingers stroke the wine and sun warmed skin lightly, and I am hypnotized. He plays with the thin strap of my dress, then as my hand reaches three quarters up his thigh he flicks the strap from my shoulder. I shrug lightly and encourage the dress to fall. The edge of the lace of my bra shows through. He puts his glass down as well and turns his body to face me.

"This is pretty, I like it." He traces my shoulder, just skirting the lace, I would blush, but I feel my skin is already flushed from the wine.

"Thank you, I hoped you would like it," and as I say it, I realized I did hope he would like it, that he would like it and see it and desire me- even if he was just a friend.

He reached for the other side of my dress and pushed it off my shoulder as well. I let it fall, then pulled the dress off to pool around my waist, my bra and breasts in full view. My nipples were pushing through the lace, reaching for him. We were both quiet for a moment, but I didn't feel shy. I felt sexy and confidant and warm, from the wine, but also from my comfort with him.

He tucked and errant hair behind my ear, but his eyes were glued firmly to my chest. I reached out to touch him, but he grabbed my wrist, gently, but firmly enough I could feel his strength and knew he wouldn't let go. Playfully I tried with my other hand. He took that one too then wrapped both wrists in one of his hands. He held them in my lap, pressing my breasts together with my arms. I arched my back, pressing them toward him.

For another moment he didn't move, but finally he did, he leaned forward to my breasts and suddenly firmly sucked my right nipple through the lace. The lace added a gentle abrasion in contrast to the warm wetness of his mouth and the soft flicks of his tongue. I couldn't suppress a gasp of pleasure. He pulled away at the sound and glanced at my face. Satisfied he bent again to repeat the action on the other side, then blowing on each. I hadn't thought my nipples could get harder or more sensitive, but they did.

He let go of my hands and immediately I stood on my knees to get closer to him. I rested my hands on his cotton covered thighs and I could feel the corded muscle under the cloth. He was all potential energy and forceful calm and I was intoxicated. I could feel the warmth radiating from him and I wanted more.

As I moved the dress slid further down my body, revealing my other secret, his eyes drifted to my belly button, then followed the cloth as it fell down my body to pool at my knees, hobbling me and showing my smooth skin in all my glory.

His hand slid down my side, across my hip leaving goosebumps in its wake. He then let one hand trail between my thighs. I held my breath as I felt it climb closer and closer to that center of my heat. Before he touched me, he paused.

"Is this okay? Not too much wine?" I took a moment to think, to appreciate him asking. I nodded, then when he didn't move "yes, yes please, I want you to touch me." And he did, but just barely. The whisper soft touch of his hand shook me to the core. I was sure there would be wet dripping out of me in a moment if he didn't stop. My legs shook, and I wanted to beg. He smiled at me as if reading my thoughts.

"No panties you naughty girl, so bare and naked for me. You want this don't you."

I reached out to him, I'm not sure if to steady myself or to just touch him more. But before I could reach all the way to touch him, he sank his finger into me. I gasped, and my thighs clenched around his hand. I was so aroused and swollen with need his finger felt enormous. I imagined I could feel every callous, every vein in his hands. Before I could recover he sunk another finger inside beside the first and curled them both toward him, hammering my g-spot with one try. Immediately the feeling of a full bladder and a distinct tingly urgency hit me. But he paused, fingers hooked inside, both of us holding our breath, eyes locked.

Then the stillness of the moment was over, and he laid scooped my up before settling me on my back on the couch, his hand still firmly inside. He knelt beside the couch and smiled at me before repeating the action, but harder, then again and again. I was shaking, and waves of heat flowed through my body, I searched for words but was overwhelmed with sensation. I felt myself reaching a peak immediately but was stuck, overwhelmed but unable to let go. As if sensing my dilemma, he took his other hand and pressed on my lower belly. Seeing his hand covering so much of my skin, seeing his strong hands, and feeling the intense pressure was too much. I struggled to catch my breath before I was screaming and bucking into his hand, gushing over the couch, his hand and even the floor. Instead of letting up he just increased his speed and pressure and the pleasure grew and grew. Clear liquid was still spraying out of me and every muscle was clenching around him.

"Enough!" I was finally able to cry. He paused for a moment, but left his hands where they were, I gripped the couch, then ran my hands though my hair, letting go of the wrist I had grabbed without noticing. My breathing was still ragged when his hands began to move again.

"I can't" I began-

"We'll see," he answered and immediately began again in earnest. In moments I was again screaming and sinking my nails into any of him I could reach, his hands, his wrists, the neck of his t-shirt.

~

Before I opened my eyes, I realized there was a soft breeze playing across my face, and that I was lying in something wet. My awareness came back more quickly after that. My eyes fluttered open. And his face was right there near me, wafting air with a folded paper and bamboo fan.

"Why do you have that?" My voice sounded like I had been yelling or singing for hours. I pointed to the fan and my arms felt heavy.

"Really that's what you ask?" he paused "That doesn't matter, are you doing okay?" I catalogue my body, I feel nothing but amazing. I stretch and sit up slowly. I smile at him feeling satisfied and calm, nothing like the shyness I usually feel when naked, especially next to someone fully dressed.

"I feel fantastic, thank you." He stood, and I was face to face with the crotch of his soft pants that were doing nothing to hide the large bulge barely contained within them.

"I think it's your turn" I reach for the drawstring. He protests that I don't need to, but I want to, and he does nothing to resist as I untie the string and pull them gently over his cock which bounces proudly to reach nearly to his belly button. It is large enough to be a delicious challenge. It is warm in my hands and I forget the pants and let them fall. He steps out of them, but I am already stroking his cock gently, getting used to the weight and velvety warmth of it. A crystalline drop forms at the tip and I stick out my tongue to taste it, salty and bitter and delicious.

I lick all around the head of his cock before delving deeper. The smell of him is stronger here and I pull it into my lungs. I listen happily and attentively to his sounds as a draw him into my mouth and begin to work my way down to his root. I feel my throat stretch around him and the burn is almost as delicious as the sounds he makes and the away his hands come to my hair, holding firmly but letting me go at my own pace. I am settling into the rhythm when he pulls me to my feet.

"I want to feel you when I cum" he looks into my eyes as he says it and lifts me over his shoulder. I wiggle to be put down and he slaps my ass firmly, and hard. I am stunned by the sting and how I immediately feel more wetness drip down my thighs.

"Again!"

"Oh, you like that do you?" He does it again, and then again and it hurts more than I wanted, and still I want more but he is dropping me on a bed and opening a nightstand drawer. The bed is made neatly, and I smell the freshness of the sheets, perhaps he hoped we would end up here. But before I could speculate more, he is flipping me onto my stomach and pulling me to the edge of the edge of the bed.

"Put your feet on the floor," his voice is different, I feel myself wanting to listen without question and I do "stand up, keep your chest down." I do, acutely aware that this opens me to his gaze, my ass the center of his attention. His hands caress both of my cheeks, before slapping one then the other quickly, as I flinch he slides inside me in one firm motion. I howl.

It hurts more than anything but feels amazing. He is still inside me, waiting for me to adjust. I feel so full; my body is flinching and clenching around him and I feel his breath hitch. He leans over my back and kisses my shoulders, my neck, my cheeks, petting me as I adjust. I feel every subtle movement deep inside, and it begins to feel amazing, then not nearly enough. I push back gently and feel him press against the deepest part of me. I shudder and do it again. After a moment he shifts standing behind me and begins to move in slow deep waves. He still feels huge inside me, but I feel the pressure building again. He presses against my g-spot with each thrust and I have to push back to keep from getting forced onto the bed. I don't have much leverage, but I use it to my best advantage. I relish every moan and gasp I hear, unaware of my own sounds.

When his movements begin to quicken I want to feel him lose control more than anything.

"I want to feel you cum, I want to feel it, I want you to, please, I want to feel it," the words are tumbling out of my mouth over and over and he grips my hips harder, I know I will bruise but I want to feel it, I want to feel more of him. The closer he gets the more I want it. Then finally, he stills, his hands grip harder pulling me against me, I feel him flex inside me then he is hunching over me, pulling me closer and pounding into me erratically and hard and it triggers yet another orgasm. My legs are shaking, and I slide to the floor when he flops onto the bed beside me. My pussy is throbbing with pleasure and delicious pain.

He pulls me up to lie beside him and it's a long several minutes before either of us have the breath to talk.

"That was amazing." It wasn't really something that I wanted to ever say, but in this case, it was true.

"I hope I didn't hurt you." I look at the red spots blooming against my skin and decide not to lie

"I loved every moment of it." Our eyes meet and we both begin to laugh. It is too ridiculous of a moment, and too perfect of one. I wiggle closer to him and snuggle in.

We lie together, listening to each other's breath, but it isn't long before I am reaching for him again, wrapping his cock in my hands and marveling that this was inside me just minutes before. Even soft it is intimidating enough. But it doesn't stay that way for long. I enjoy playing with it absentmindedly as it grows. And he lets me- for a bit.

"Again?" he asks

"Again," I answer, all thoughts of staying "just friends" forgotten.