Lesbian Best Friend


She let out a shriek, maybe even a scream, when I pushed my tongue into her opening, her hands leaving my head in that very instant and gripping the sheets around her. She was panting, her breaths coming in quickly and shallowly. I explored those most intimate walls of her, feeling them contract slightly against my tongue as I pushed in and out. I did so for quite some time, ensuring that she was wet, before I moved my tongue back to her clit and filled her hole with two fingers at once. A loud moan came from deep down her throat, lightly muffled by the bed sheet which she had between her teeth, as I started penetrating her with my fingers, my tongue furiously licking her clit. I added a third finger, bending them lightly to massage her from the inside as I slid them in and out quickly while letting my mouth ravish that pleasurable button of hers.

Thirty seconds and a few almost suppressed moans later I felt spasms in her pussy, felt additional wetness on my fingers, felt her hips that had started moving long ago shake uncontrollably – I felt how Sam had an orgasm. A scream of pleasure came from her mouth as I helped her riding out her climax, but my free hand already started to unbutton my own pants and shoving them and my briefs down to my feet before wriggling out of my last items of clothing.

"Sam," I said in a deep, husky voice, full of self-control and authority I didn't actually have, once I thought her orgasm had subsided. The beauty underneath me opened her eyes to look at me. For the first time, I couldn't read her eyes. Something I had never seen before was showing in them. I think my face was serious and composed when I said, "This is your last chance to get out of this. Your very last chance."

But Sam didn't say anything. Her gaze drifted to my cock and I could see the fear in her eyes. But her lips remained closed. Her voice remained silent. I licked my hand, combined the spit with the precum on the tip of my cock that had started building long ago, and spread it over my member. My hands went to her bum to lift her up and adjust her slightly so that I had a better angle. I placed the tip of my pulsing cock on her entrance and slid it up and down her wet slit. Sam whimpered. Her hands clung onto the sheets so hard, her knuckles turned white.

It took more self-control than I thought I possessed to not ram my cock into her, but I managed to pause for a second. I placed my hands on either side of her shoulders and gently lowered my lips on hers. As soft as I could, I tried to kiss the fear and tension away. Slowly, she gave into me and parted her lips, her tongue demanding entrance into my mouth. I granted her, more than that, I sucked her tongue in and engaged it in another dance, a slower, softer dance this time, a waltz compared to the salsa we had shared earlier. Her nipples brushed against my chest, her hands left the sheets and looped around my neck, and her legs parted further.

With her tongue entwined with mine, I rocked my hips forward gently. Sam groaned into my mouth, but she kept her part. She didn't break the kiss, she didn't let go of my neck. I kept my hips still, letting her find her own pace to allow my initial intrusion. It took her a second to understand what I wanted, but then her hips slowly wiggled forward, and she impaled herself on my cock. It wasn't long before my member was buried deep inside her. We just stayed like this for a while, getting used to the feeling of each other.

"Sam," I managed to breath after breaking the kiss, "you feel so good. So tight." Almost involuntarily, my hips jerked back and forth, starting a new rhythm. Sam clung onto my neck for dear life, pulling me down, noises I couldn't identify escaping her lips. Her sex gripped me tightly and I quickened the pace, plunging into her with every stroke, hard, fast and deep. I felt Sam's legs looping around me to pull me in, an act of instinct rooted deep down in her brain. I undid her hold on my neck, grabbed her right hand and led it to her clit before using her fingers to rub her. Within seconds, her fingers moved without my help, and I lowered my mouth back on hers.

I tried to figure out what Sam wanted from me, but she was giving me mixed signals. Her hips didn't meet my thrusts, but her hand rubbed her clit furiously and her tongue twirled around mine in a way I thought was more than just to participate. I could only guess what was going on in her pretty head, what the mixture of revulsion against my gender, the pleasure she felt because of the physical stimulation and the thrill of the unknown would do to her.

Sam's hand had seemed to pick up the pace and I guessed that she was close again, but I wanted to leave her dangling. I stopped, withdrew my member and pulled her legs up to her head, exposing her private areas in an obscene way before I plunged my tongue deep into her.

She was wet, so wet, and I couldn't help myself but enjoy her taste, savour it, commit it to memory as I knew that this arrangement we had would come to an end. Sam was driving me mad now, as she had become more vocal, more engaged than before, and those sexy moans that escaped her lips didn't help my self-control.

I rolled her over so that she was on her side, her back toward me, as I spooned up behind her, pure need shining from my quick actions. I lifted up one of her gorgeous legs, placed the tip of my rock hard member on her entrance and kissed her neck. Sam didn't shriek like she had when I first entered her, she didn't flinch – instead, she pushed down the instant I pushed into her, impaling herself on me again. Those familiar, velvet walls of her pussy brushed over my cock, pressing firmly against it, and I gasped in pleasure while burying myself inside her. My hips started rocking, plunging in and out of her, as my hand looped around her body, searching for her clit and started to rub her little pleasure button. Sam moaned, groaned with every stroke, her own hands squeezing and twisting her nipples as I nibbled her throat.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck," she chanted between moans, as I fucked her relentlessly. My fingers moved in a blur over her clit, rubbing her furiously. I nibbled her ear lobe, which was hard to catch considering the activity that was going on, my hot breath washing quickly and shallowly over her perspired skin.

"Don't stop, don't stop now, please don't stop," Sam whimpered, her hand drifting down to her clit, only to realise that mine was already working overtime down there. She then moved hers to my butt, trying to pull me in, to quicken the rhythm, willing to do anything to increase the intensity of our fuck.

"Oh god." she shrieked as she came, her lower abdomen shaking from spasms, her tight pussy contracting incredibly around my cock.

"Sam!" I moaned, make that grunted, as my own orgasm crashed over me and I shot my load into her, wave after wave, with her pussy milking me rhythmically.

I clung onto consciousness, glad that I wasn't on top when we had come or I would have crushed her. We had come. Together. I didn't know what to do with that.

We both stayed in that position for a long while, trying to catch our breaths with my cock still deep inside my lesbian best friend, enjoying the afterglow of our climaxes. Only when I came down from that rush, realisation hit me.

What have I just done?

"I'm so sorry, Sam."

"For what?" she asked between two breaths.

"For losing control like that. Have I hurt you?" I asked concerned.

"No, I'm fine." she said, but her voice was shaky and insecure.

We lay like that for another, long time – minutes, not seconds. Neither of us moved, and neither of us talked. Whether Sam was as unwilling or unable as I was, or whether she did it out of politeness, I didn't know. Our breathing had settled long ago when I eventually withdrew my softening member from her and rolled over onto my back.

A long moment later, Sam said, "Hey, your ... stuff ... is coming back out. Yuck!" At least her voice didn't sound shaky anymore.

"Well, where did you think it would all go? You need one cell for a baby. I gave you a couple of million." I answered in a matter-of-fact tone.

"So, do you think we've just made a baby?" she was hopeful.

"Highly unlikely, but we still might." I answered.

"What? Don't get cocky, mister!" she said in a teasing voice. Relief washed over me. Sam was teasing. Maybe we could get through this.

"I didn't mean that." I couldn't stop myself from chuckling. "Technically, you're only fertile during your ovulation, which lasts twelve to twenty-four hours. To make the timing a bit simpler, my stuff, as you called it, lives on for up to five days inside you. So you might not be pregnant just now, but you could still become pregnant in the next couple of days."

"Have you taken a biology class at university I don't know of?"

I chuckled again. "No, I've done my homework after you've dropped the bomb on me. You see, statistically ..."

"Good lord, why on earth did I have to end up in bed with a statistics freak?" Sam interrupted in mock horror before giggling lightly. I joined her.

"Let's sleep, shall we?" I asked when our laughter had settled.

"Mhm," was her already sleepy answer.

I turned on my back and fell asleep almost immediately, exhausted from previous activities. I slept dreamlessly that night. No pictures of Sam, no naughty sex sessions, no nothing. When I woke, however, the first thing I noticed was that one discovery I had made yesterday.

Cedar. How could I have missed it so long? Honey, a hint of vanilla, and cedar. I took a deep breath, Sam's scent being stronger than ever – I must be lying close. But that wasn't all. We hadn't showered after having sex, the scent of her soap, shampoo and perfume had subsided, and all that was left was Sam. Pure Sam. Her scent was heavenly.

Only then did I notice that her body was pressed into mine. My face was buried between her shoulder blades. My morning erection squeezed between her thighs. My hand cupped one of her breasts, her arm lay over mine. How we had ended up like this, I didn't know, not even a theory came to my mind.

"Sam?" I whispered as softly as I could. There was no answer.

It was both awkward and wonderfully intimate. I tried to disentwine, but couldn't bring myself to it. Her scent was too strong, her skin too warm against mine, and she simply felt too good in my arms. For a long time, I just lay there, barely able to not flex my fingers, to not move my hips one bit, to at least not molest her consciously. It took every ounce of willpower I had. Eventually, I couldn't stop myself from placing a kiss on her neck. My lips brushed on her skin, and what should have become a quick peck ended up being a long and soft kiss.

Who was I kidding? Oh my god.

"I love you, Sam Wilson." I whispered in the same low voice I had used before. I kissed her neck again before I eventually disentwined myself from her, got up and walked to the bathroom. A voice stopped me in my tracks.

"What was that?" Sam asked out of the dark.

"What do you mean?" I asked back after taking a breath.

"What did you just say?" she pressed, the shock evident in her voice.

"Um ... nothing?" Shit, had she actually heard that?

"Don't act daft, I heard you."

Uh-oh. "That ... that wasn't supposed to be heard." I replied truthfully. Leave it to you, Leon, to ruin not only the moment, but everything.

I stood there for another moment. Neither of us spoke. Eventually, I got into the shower.

We went for breakfast early, not talking, hardly looking at each other. I couldn't look at Sam, afraid of what I'd see in her eyes. When my curiosity got the better of me and I did take a glimpse, I only found her staring away from me. We drove home early afternoon after spending an hour sunbathing at the beach, again in complete silence. Sam seemed deep in thought. When I dropped her off, we didn't say more than 'Bye' to each other.

It was only when I was in the safety of my own home that misery crushed over me. I felt the tears in my eyes when I walked up the driveway, and as soon as my door had closed behind me, I cried. I sobbed. I was a thirty-three year old man, whimpering like a child. On a single night, I had fallen in love with my best friend of seventeen years. With a friend who wouldn't and couldn't return the love I felt for her. A friend I had pushed away by saying those three little words.

How fucking stupid am I?


I did what every normal man does to mend his broken heart, and probably what many men before me had done to get over Sam Wilson. I went out. I drank. Oh lord, did I drink. I didn't care whether it was weekend or not. Somehow, I managed to show up at work the next morning – once I went there straight from the pub. I was lucky that the only word I had to share with my boss was "girl-trouble" on the third day to earn his understanding. He told me to stay home when I thought it would be better, and to come in when I thought that would be better. I appreciated the offer, but I did come in every day. I wouldn't stay home sick because of Sam Wilson. Or would I?

Of course the lads had noticed that something was severely wrong with me, but I wasn't willing to give up anything. The arrangement I had with Sam was strictly private, and even now that things had backfired horribly, I wasn't going to betray her - even if I wasn't ever going to see her, to speak to her again. Her secrets would be safe with me.

I started about three-hundred texts to Sam, but I didn't send a single one of them. Innocent questions about how she was doing, some teasing, or even shouting what a bitch she was – all those thoughts crossed my mind and had been typed into my mobile phone, but I never pressed the 'Send' button. The silence was mutual. I didn't get an email, a text or a call from her.

Two weeks later, I had eventually managed to stop the downward spiral. I had the lads over at my place and we enjoyed an early summer day with a barbeque, a couple of beers and a football match on the TV we had carried outside to my backyard. It was the first normal day I had since that night with Sam, and I managed to smile and have a couple of laughs. Even my team won. I started to look at the bright side of life again – if only there wasn't that aching spot in my chest whenever I thought of Sam.

They had left at around 8pm and I had started to clean up my back yard when the doorbell rang. I had found Pat's hoodie which he had forgotten on one of the chairs outside. I quickly grabbed it and brought it to the door, assuming that was him wanting to pick it up.

I opened the door. But outside wasn't Pat. That was the only thing I realised before a hand flew to my cheek, giving me a resounding slap. Only then I managed to look up.

There she was, wearing yoga pants and a sweat shirt, no makeup, her hair hanging loosely over her shoulders. She looked tired. Exhausted. Only her eyes were filled with anger. Make that fury. Sam was furious. With me. And still breathtakingly beautiful.

"How fucking dare you say you fucking love me?" She said in a shaking voice, trying hard not to scream.

"What?" was all I managed to say, my own hand rubbing my cheek where she'd hit me.

"You cannot love me, Leon. You can't. I ... Fuck."

That's when she started to cry. To sob.

"Oh Sam," I breathed, looping my arms around her waist, moving her inside and closing the door behind us. Sam protested against my touch, but only briefly, before her arms looped around my neck and clung on for dear life. I pressed her body against mine, feeling guilty that even in this moment all I could think of was how good she felt in my arms as she soaked my tee-shirt. We stood like that for a couple of minutes before the crying, beautiful creature in my arms eventually raised her head and looked into my eyes. Her eyes were soft. Gone was the fury, replaced by something tender, something I hadn't seen before.

Nothing had prepared me, however, for what happened next.

In a swift move, Sam stood on her toes and pressed her lips against mine before I could do anything about it. My body went rigid from shock, my hands dropping loosely to her hips, but my lips moved with hers. She deepened the kiss as her arms around my neck locked me in place. It took me a moment to snap out of it and break the kiss.

"Sam, what the ... What?" I managed to stutter.

It was hard to distinguish between all the different emotions in her voice and eyes, especially through her tears. Happiness, sadness, and that tenderness I'd seen before. She even had mocking in her voice when she said, "I've had my period, you bastard. You were supposed to give me a baby." Her lips twitched into a smile. "I'm hardly ever a day off, and now I was even a day early!"

"Sam, even if we had sex right now, you wouldn't get pregnant from that. Your cycle..." I managed to say.

"Don't you get it, you idiot?" she interrupted softly, brushing her fingers over my cheek where she hit me and staring through the tears into my eyes. "This isn't about the baby."

"What is that supposed to mean?" I was confused now.

She looked down and leaned her forehead against my chest. "It used to be, okay? It was all I wanted. I never lied to you. But then you come along with that fucking cock of yours. That repulsive piece of flesh." She snorted through her tears before she continued, "And you rape me with it after you raped me with your mouth, your tongue and your hands. I should find it repulsive. I should hate you. Instead, I find myself thrown into intense orgasms and keep staring at you all night long, stroking your biceps and abs for hours, like a drooling idiot who can't take her eyes off you. And then you turn to your side in your sleep, and I can't stop myself from spooning into you, place your cock between my legs and your hand on my breast.

"I felt so safe. Warm. Protected. Loved. You didn't need to say one fucking word in the morning – I had felt it while you slept. How your arms tightened around me, how you pressed your face into my shoulders. How we merged, how we became one. How your breath tingled my back. How your fucking five-o'clock shade that I always hated scratched my skin, and suddenly it was the most erotic touch I could imagine. How you didn't move an inch when you woke. The last piece of proof was your kiss on my neck because you thought I was still asleep. I knew then you were in love with me – and I thought my heart would explode from joy."

She paused briefly, looked up to stare into my eyes and spoke, "But I'm not into men! I'm gay. I'm gayer than bloody Ellen DeGeneres or Elton John. It's the one thing I'm sure of in my life. I don't know if I picked the right major at university, don't know if I like my job, hell, I'm still not absolutely sure if I really, really want that baby. But I do know that I'm gay. And now you've taken this away from me, Leon. This one constant in my entire sorry, fucking life." Her voice broke down at the end, and she buried her face in my chest again, and her arms clung tightly to me. Her voice was soft and velvet, hardly more than a whisper when she said, "How fucking dare you?"

We stood like that for a long moment. Minutes later when Sam looked up to me, I was still unable to speak. Her eyes were soft, tender, and full of ... love. She stood on her toes and started kissing my face. "I love you, Leon. And if you really love that emotional, ex-lesbian bitch in front of you, I suggest you take her to your bed room and fuck her brains out." she breathed.

"No, Sam," I answered. She became rigid in my arms, "I'm not going to fuck your brains out. I'll make love to you." And with that, I swept her into my arms and carried her to bed.


"For fuck's sake," I said, my voice calm and soft despite the words I had chosen, but still thick from sleep, "she just can't shut the fuck up, can she?"

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byMadeYaLook© 42 comments/ 67450 views/ 178 favorites

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