Lesbian Best Friend


I had to get into work Saturday, which made me feel slightly better considering the lie I had told Pat, and I didn't have time to go home and change afterwards, so I showed up dressed in a suit and tie ten minutes early. London traffic was generous today. I spent five of those minutes in the car debating whether I should abort this madness. Now was the last chance to get out clean. After that, we'd always have that night where we'd tried but hadn't succeeded in our memory. I sighed. You're thirty-three for fuck's sake, don't be such a baby. With that, I got out of the car, walked to her door and rang the bell.

"Coming." I heard from inside, followed by the clacking of heels. Well, I was sure I'd have to wait for another forty minutes. Sam was always late. If you think pretty women take long in the bathroom, try a pretty lipstick lesbian for a change. Seconds later, the door flew open.

"Rea ..." Oh my fucking god, "... dy?" I managed to stutter.

Sam had gone overboard. Never, ever had she dressed like this around me. Sam wasn't dressed to kill. She was dressed to commit fucking genocide. The black cocktail dress hugged her in all the right places, it was more like a second skin, and showed off her gorgeous legs – covered in stockings – and enough cleavage to leave any man or woman drooling. Her bum, her perfectly heart-shaped behind stood out, intensified by the three inch strappy heels she wore. She had her hair pinned up, glimmering ear rings, glossy lips, and mascara to make her already long lashes obscenely long. She wore light green eye shadow which was perfect with her olive skin.

"Sure, all set. By the way, you look handsome." she mentioned in passing as she kissed me on the cheek. I numbly took her suitcase from her as she locked the door, and followed her to the car. Sam was ready. On time! That was a first as well. I opened the door for her before getting into the driver's seat.

"Sam," I started.

"Yes?" she asked.

"You look gorgeous." Friends can say that to each other, right?

"Hey, I'm trying to seduce a man tonight. It's a skill I haven't mastered yet." She patted my leg through my suit. My skin started to burn under her touch. I pulled out into traffic and shortly afterwards we were on the M23 toward Brighton.


"Are you nervous, Leon? You're quiet." Sam observed.

Nervous didn't even begin to cover it, so I started babbling. "No, I just have a reservation for 7.30 at a restaurant. I figured you'd be late, but now we're early. I thought about whether I should give them a call." I turned my head to look at her. "But I'm sure if I show up with you, they'll find a free table."

Sam wasn't buying my crap. That's the problem with being friends since forever. You know the other person so well, you know when they're talking bollocks. It took one glance from her to tell me that she knew, but she was smart enough not to say it.

It was mostly quiet for the rest of the drive. We arrived at 6.45 at the hotel and checked in, but didn't go to our room just yet – the porter would bring our bags upstairs. Of course, everybody in the lobby was staring at us – or mostly at the beauty I had on my arm. I was already used to that. You tend to go unnoticed when you have Sam at your side.

The candle light dinner was excellent, and we managed to return to the roles we were used to around each other. At least until desert came. That's when Sam suddenly leaned forward and reached under the table. I didn't know what she was doing – maybe she had an itch on her leg. When she had straightened back up, I suddenly felt something – her foot – on my calf. That crafty temptress had gotten out of her heel. Mercilessly, her foot trailed up my leg slowly. My body had become rigid under her touch.

"Sam," I all but whispered in protest. The mischievous smile she gave me told me that my pleading would be in vain. This was a public place for crying out loud, and my cock was getting hard quickly. My heart beat furiously in my chest. I had about ten seconds left to escape to the bathroom before the bulge in my pants would effectively prevent me from getting up and leave me at her mercy.

But it felt so good.

And that was that, my way out had just closed its door on me as my cock sprang to its full size. I stared into her eyes, those chocolate-brown big eyes, as I felt her foot tracing along my inner thigh. Further. And further. Until she came to a stop against my hardness. I could tell from her gaze that all of a sudden, my seductive kitten had been thrown into a pool of the unknown. Yes, honey, that's a cock, something your usual dates don't have. Sam left her foot in place, getting a first impression of what she thought might await her later. What she thought. I was still quite sure that nothing was going to happen. Ninety-nine percent. At least.

"Was everything to your satisfaction?" a male voice asked next to me.

"Pardon?" I stuttered before I turned my head. The waiter was standing there, looking at me with a friendly but professional smile. "Oh. Um. Yes, everything was perfect." Except that my escort is massaging my dick with her toes, but that's not your fault. "Could I have the bill, please?"

"Right away, sir." he answered and took our plates. I didn't miss that he smiled at Sam much longer than necessary.

"Sam," I whispered when he had left, "I cannot get up right now for obvious reasons. Can you please retrieve your foot?"

She giggled, but thankfully she played nice and followed my instructions. Again, she leaned under the table to put her heel back on.

We left ten minutes later after I had paid the bill, willed my cock into semi-hardness and then shoved my hand into the pocket of my pants to first readjust my member and then keep it there so people would assume the bulge came from my hand. We slowly walked back to the hotel, enjoying a beautiful night. Sam had her arm looped through mine and her head rested against my shoulder. If you added it up, we had probably walked several marathons exactly that way. But tonight, it felt different. Very different.

I was aware of every spot where our bodies touched. Her arm on mine, her cheek on my shoulder, her breast softly pressing against my bicep. She had washed her hair with her favourite shampoo. Her skin wore the scent of her usual soap and a bit of Chanel. And of course, her own scent. That complex scent that was Sam, sweet and delicious – honey, a hint of vanilla and something else, something exotic I hadn't managed to distinguish in all those years. Everything was familiar. And yet, it had never been so erotic.

I had registered all that before, but since I knew that I could have her, I found myself rediscovering everything about her. Had her skin always been so soft? Had her body always been so warm, literally radiating through mine? Had her breast always been pressed against me so persisting when we walked like this?

"It's a beautiful night." Her voice broke through to me. It was soft, velvet ... sexy.

"Indeed it is." I breathed back, hardly recognizing my own voice. Deeper than usual I thought, throaty, husky. God, I was into her. Head over heels. I reassessed the probability of us not getting involved tonight to ninety percent – still a pretty decent chance that nothing would happen.

I tried to get the mood a bit less romantic by turning the TV in our room to the first football match I could find. Thankfully, you will always find football on English TV, no matter what the hour or the day. If I had to put money on it, I'd bet that you could have watched football throughout September 11. I guessed that Sam knew what I was doing, and the smart woman that she was, she played along for a while. For exactly fifteen minutes.

"I'll run myself a bath." she said and got up from the bed on which we had lain with a decent space between us. The bathroom door was right next to the TV, and Sam was very much aware of that. Before she even entered it, her dress had dropped to the floor – leaving her with only what she worn underneath. Which was nothing, apart from the garterless stockings and the strappy heels.

My hands went to my face in disbelieve as if I wanted to prevent myself from watching, but my fingers were spread and I saw everything that was going on. That heart shaped bum, naked, in front of me – mine for the taking. The outline of her breasts when she turned slightly to the side. And those long, long, fucking long legs. If someone had switched the TV to a horror movie, or a romance, or porn, I wouldn't have noticed.

Sam slowly walked into the bathroom with my eyes fixed on her, deliberately wriggling that bum of hers with an impossible elegance and gracefulness, moving her feet in a straight line, one in front of the other. She closed the door slightly, but not shut. The water tab began to run before she sat down on a dressing chair that was behind the door. I couldn't see Sam anymore, until her stretched out legs came into view through the door crack as she sensually rolled off her stockings.

Her fingers lightly traced the skin on her thigh as she moved the fabric off her body, over her stretched knee. Nobody gets out of stockings in such a way for practical reasons. I was enjoying a show. A private show. Her upper body bent forward, further and further, and came slowly into view. Her head first, followed by her shoulders. Her fingers were at her calf, and suddenly, those legs couldn't be long enough for me. A few more inches and I'd get a glimpse of her breasts. My breathing had picked up, my heart was pounding in my chest.

Sam seemed to slow down as she rolled that stocking over her foot, showing off not only her gorgeous body but also how flexible she was after all those yoga classes. I felt myself moving over to get a better angle. I hadn't given the command consciously. Eventually, her breasts came into view. Those perfect C-cups, as they lay softly against her thigh.

Oh my fucking God, what have I gotten myself into? My face was still in my hands but they were still not preventing my sight. My cock was harder than I thought it could get, and Sam wasn't even in immediate proximity. I enjoyed – and endured – the whole procedure again for her other leg before she lowered herself into the bath tub.

After twenty minutes or so – I had just managed to calm down –, I heard her call for me: "Leon? You mind coming in here for a second?"

I took a deep breath, praying that she used enough bath essence to cover her body, got up from the bed and walked into the bathroom. God had answered my prayers this time. I wordlessly sat down on the toilet next to the tub, and almost automatically started massaging her shoulders. This too I had done on countless occasions. It felt natural. Almost. This time, it was much more intimate. And that soft moan that escaped her lips when I worked the little knots between her shoulder blades – had it always appealed to such a primitive instinct? I didn't do the full reassessment of my probability, but I did notice that it had changed significantly – and not in my brain's favour.

"Hey beautiful," I said in a low voice when she had turned her head to me.

"Leon, I ... If you don't want to do this, then that's okay, you know that. I can't force you to have sex with me." Sam said in a low voice and looked up at me, sadness in her beautiful chocolate-brown eyes.

"Sam, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on. But I don't want to lose you as a friend. I cannot afford to lose you. What would I do without you?" I asked huskily.

"That's what you're worried about? About what this might change between us?" She asked in a velvet voice.

"So much has changed already." I breathed back.

"Like what? We've done nothing so far we hadn't done before. Apart from that thing in the restaurant."

And that striptease you've just given me. "The way I see you has changed, Sam." I paused, searching for words. "Suddenly, you're a person I can have sex with. My whole perception of you has changed. I've become one of those men who can hardly keep their tongue in their mouth around you." I admitted. I have always been honest with Sam. I swore to myself in this moment that even if everything else changed, that shouldn't.

Sam smiled at me. "I have to get out of here, or my skin will become wrinkly. Mind giving me some privacy?" she asked. I nodded, and went back to the bed.

How fucking stupid am I? Yes, that very sentence again. Only this time, I asked it in a different context. In that bathroom was as a godlike creature. My best friend. And she wanted me, needed me. She had asked me a simple favour, and I was about to let her down.

Why couldn't I just give her what she wanted? Why would everything have to be so complicated? I hated to see Sam hurt that way. The sadness I had seen on her face wrenched my guts. Was it my right to deny her wish for a child – a wish so important to her and so easy for me to grant? Or would denying it be the most selfish thing I'd ever do, to keep her for myself rather than giving her what she truly wanted, what that most primitive need of hers wanted her to have, what could turn the happy Sam I knew into the glowing Sam of my dreams?

When she emerged from the bathroom, wearing only a bath robe, she lay down next to me. I had turned the TV off, and we both stared at the ceiling. That awkward moment I had predicted had arrived.

After some minutes of silence, Sam's hand reached over and touched mine. My heartbeat increased slightly, but I didn't withdraw my hand. Slowly, she leaned in closer. I stayed in place. She turned over, half lying on top of me. I didn't move. Her hand was on my chest, opening a single button of my shirt before sliding onto my skin. It burned under that direct contact. My breathing became heavy. My heart beat furiously. My cock sprang to life.

I stopped her hand. I was holding on to a very thin thread now.

"You're not playing fair," I managed to gasp.

"I never said I would," was her answer, before she rolled onto me, her hand grabbing my cock and giving it a hard squeeze.

And suddenly, everything fell into place. How fucking stupid am I? It was the last conscious thought I had.

I had fallen for her play. Hell, I had given her over a week to prepare this plot. The dress – she knew she had to go overboard for me to notice it. Her 'regular night out' wardrobe was something I had witnessed too often before to catch my attention. The restaurant episode – she knew she had to take the teasing to a new level to make me panting, to get that physical reaction from me that she wanted. The strip – she knew I had only seen glimpses of her before, knew that I'd never allow her to undress herself in front of me, much less help her out of her clothes myself.

Sam knew her opponent in and out. For the last seventeen years I had shared everything with her. She knew my history, my every weakness, my every concern, my desires, even my preferences in bed – she knew everything. She knew I wouldn't just shoot her down when she'd asked me, that I'd try to go along and let her see for herself that this was a bad idea. She knew how to wear me down. She knew when to make me think she was giving me space and when to pretend the decision was back with me. It never was. It never had been.

But the most brilliant part of it all? She didn't have to lie, hadn't spoken one untrue word. She was even upfront, literally walked into my house and threw the truth right in my face, knowing that this way she'd get me to do what she wanted me to do.

She hadn't broken one rule in friendship code. Except she hadn't played fair.

Well, two can withdraw from fair play.

I wouldn't give her clinical, mechanical sex, just to get it over with. I was going explore every inch of her gorgeous body, touch every skin cell, and lick her wherever I wanted to lick. I would use her until I'd lose consciousness. My brain had shut down, my body had taken over, and it was giving into a need I had denied for much too long.

I rolled us over until I was on top before crushing my lips on hers and forcing my tongue into her mouth. Sam gasped – whether she was more surprised by the kiss or by my intensity I didn't know – but she let me in. My tongue ravished her mouth, forcing hers into a dance I wasn't sure she was willing to participate in. The sweet taste of her tongue, the touch of her soft lips – my memory of our first kiss hadn't done her justice.

I sucked her bottom lip hard before breaking the kiss and ripping that bath robe open in a split second. My hands and eyes roamed over her body, from her legs to her waist up to her boobs and lingered there, enjoying those perfect breasts, finally in my palms where they belonged. I drank in the naked Sam so many men desired. I had been one of them all along.

Her boobs stood up firm, not giving in to gravity. Her pussy was bare, apart from a tiny stripe of well-trimmed pubes she had allowed to remain. Her lips were swollen from our kiss. Her eyes glowed – whether it was fear from what she had gotten herself into or satisfaction of victory, I didn't know. I didn't care.

I grabbed her wrists and pinned her legs between mine. In a rush I lowered my lips onto her right nipple, sucking it into my mouth, a bit rougher than necessary, but she was at my mercy. She felt so good. So soft. I let my teeth slide over the nipple I was sucking. It made her shudder, made her back arch. Then I moved my legs in between hers, and pressed my hardness through my pants against her bare pussy. She drew in a sharp breath in response.

I released one of her wrists and pushed two fingers into her mouth. Sam wasn't into this – she wasn't into men. We would need all the lube we could get. She sucked on my fingers, increasingly so when I took her left nipple into my mouth and between my teeth. My hips started to move in small circles against her pelvis. I let go of her other wrists and used the hand to unbutton my shirt. When I was done, I slid out of it and tossed it on the floor.

I moved my mouth back to her right nipple, twirling my tongue around it while squeezing the other with my free hand. Sam whimpered softly, the sounds muffled by my fingers in her mouth, as my lips moved up, delivering little kisses, licks and nibbles to her shoulder, her ear lobe, her chin, her throat. My mouth was everywhere, exploring Sam on its own.

I let my mouth trail south then, a quick stop at her breasts to ensure her nipples were still hard and wet, leaving a trail of wetness with my tongue over her flat tummy, breathing her in. I dipped into her belly button, my hands moving back to molesting her breasts. Her abdomen twitched lightly under the touch of my tongue, and a throaty sound – was it anticipation or fear? – escaped her lips when my tongue continued its journey. I saved her most intimate part for later as I moved my mouth to her knee, licking her inner thigh and slowly closing in on my target. When I was two inches away, one word flashed in my mind.


The scent I had always been unable to identify about Sam. It was cedar. I could smell it clearly now. For some reason, that was important, but I didn't know why. Smiling to myself, but unable to stop, I slid my tongue over her soft mound. Sam gasped at the contact, and suddenly I wasn't so sure how unenjoyable this whole experience would be for her. Her hands flew to my head and grabbed my hair. Whether to push, pull, or keep me in place, I didn't know. I was lost in the taste of her sex, that heavenly sweet musky scent that appealed to my brain like no other taste ever could. I flicked my tongue over her clit, sucked the tiny button into my mouth, held it between my lips and pressed my tongue against it. I could feel it becoming hard under my care, could hear Sam moan when I lapped my tongue over it, left and right, up and down, circles - she liked it all.

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