The Day that Never Happened

"You gonna tell me who he was?" I continue to probe.

"No," she answers curtly.

"Well," I say in a smart-ass way, "I guess our conversation returns to you being horny and sexually frustrated."

"Ah, I think you mean we," she corrects me, "not just me."

"You have a point there." I agree.

"It felt a little weird," she admits, then after a pause, "holding you in my hand."

"OH MY GOD," I feign concern, "do you think I have a deformed dick?"

"No, stupid," she laughs at my response and backhands my leg.

"Whew," exaggeratedly wiping my brow, "I was worried you thought something was wrong with me."

"Something is wrong with you," she laughs, "but that's beside the point. I just meant I had a weird feeling inside..., when I held your...."

Kelly doesn't finish the sentence.

"Weird? Weird good. or weird bad?" I ask.

"The jury's still out on that," her voice was a bit sheepish, "but it kinda felt good."

"It felt good to me too," I agree, but don't add more. I want Kelly to talk.

"It got too real," she says, glancing down at her hands.

"How so?" I ask.

"It's just... that's not like us," she slowly explains, "but it felt so good, I wanted to... But, then, I knew I wouldn't want to stop if we went any further."

"And that's a bad thing?" I probe.

"I don't know, maybe," she hedges, "when your fingers touched me, I wanted to feel you...." Her voice trailers off.

"You wanted to feel me...?" I probe and then offer an ending. "Inside you?"

Kelly looks down at her hands, clasping them together.

"I couldn't let myself..., let us...," she doesn't answer my question, "not with Bill coming over later."

I don't respond; I look at her and take a drink.

"And now I feel...," she sighs, "even worse than before. I'm just glad Bill will be here later."

Silence enshrouds us again; I mull over what she said and didn't say.

"Maybe we should smoke some more," I suggest. My smile is becoming more of a smirk.

"Not sure that's a good idea," she says flatly, "look what just happened, and we haven't even peaked yet."

"I don't know, but I'm pretty stoned," I say. "You said it felt good; I didn't mind personally."

"Of course, you wouldn't mind," Kelly laughs, "you're a horndog. As sex crazed as you are, this shit gotta be doing a number on you." She shakes her head and laughs.

"I don't think I'm sex crazed," I defend myself. "That's kinda extreme. I have a big libido but think I'm a pretty average 21-year-old male."

"Well, I guess. But you're way more flirty than normal." Kelly backpedals, "you constantly flirt with women. You've been flirting with me since we smoked that joint."

"Sorry," I say sincerely, "I blame it on the weed. Do you want me to stop?"

Kelly pauses for a moment considering her answer.

"No," she says demurely, "and I shouldn't blame you; I played along; I like to flirt. When you flirt with me, it makes me feel good." Her lips turn up into a sweet smile.

"But sometimes I don't know if you're just teasing me or being real," she adds.

"What do you mean?" I ask. "

"My outfit?" she clarifies. "You complimented me about how I look in this dress. Were you teasing me, or did you mean it?"

"No, I wasn't teasing, or not in a bad way," I admit, "I know I'm a bit more randy than usual, but honestly, you look smokin' in that dress."

"Thanks," she says with a cute smile.

"So, for clarity," I continue, "I've always found you attractive, but you take that to a new level in that dress. I may be flirting, but I'm definitely not joking. You'd turn me on with or without the weed."

It's my turn to put a hand on her thigh, and part of my palm rests on her warm, smooth flesh.

"Thanks, " she says again, but a blush rises on her cheeks this time.

She continues to look down and sets her right hand on top of mine on her leg. She looks up at me, a little grin on her face.

"So you don't want me to take it off?" she asks jokingly.

"I never said that," I say quickly.

We laugh, and she squeezes my hand.

"What is it with you guys?" she teases. "We women wear something sexy, and you want to rip it off us."

"True," I say, "and I bet Bill will have that off you in minutes."

I'm not sure why I brought Bill back into our conversation. Things were going just great without him. I'm a fucking idiot.

"Yeah," the frustrated tone creeps back into her voice, "but that's hours from now."

"If I had my way, that dress would be in a pile on the floor," I laugh, trying not to be too serious. "Just let me know if I can help."

Kelly gives me a 'you're unbelievable' look and drinks her water.

"Again," sounding exasperated, "all you want to do is take off my sexy clothes."

"Well, ya gotta peel an orange to get to the juicy center," I retort.

"You want to eat my juicy center?" she says surprisingly. Now, who's teasing who.

"Would you be mad if I said yes?" I say.

"No," she replies, "but it might be juicier than you'd expect."

"I have no expectations; the juicier, the better," I say in utter candor.

Kelly gives me a quizzical look and then glances down at her hand on mine. She appears to be mulling over something in her mind. We frequently drop into long silences during our stoned conversation. Finally, she lifts my hand from her leg and stands up. Her back turned toward me, and she pulled down the hem of her skirt. Kelly smooths out any wrinkles when she turns and faces me. She bends her left knee and puts her hand on her right hip.

"You like this?" she asks, straightening up her stance.

Kelly slides her hands down the curve of her body. One hand on her hip, she makes a quarter turn. She gives me a sexy look before turning around slowly like a model.

Kelly is wearing a turquoise print shirtdress. It fits tightly to her body from her neckline to just above her knees. It has a U-shaped neckline below her collarbones and about one-inch shoulder straps. I think she has a little jacket to wear over it, but she didn't have that on when I came in. She is wearing thigh-high orange stockings with black buckle pumps. Every curve of her petite frame is well-defined. The material forms tightly around her tear-drop-shaped breasts. Her nipples are plainly visible. The dress clings to her body over the flare of her hips and down her thighs.

That dress leaves nothing to the imagination, and Kelly knew it as she turned around. I admired every nuance of her body and couldn't believe she wore this to work today. I'm sure every guy there and some women lusted after her.

"The dress, or what's inside?" I ask; two can play this game.

"Either, both," she says with a sexy grin.

When she finishes her turn, I give her a wolf whistle.

"Fuck, girl," I say enthusiastically, "you're sexy as hell."

"Thank you, sir," she says appreciatively, "are you sure that's not the weed talking."

"Nope, not the dope, all you," I say truthfully. "The weed just makes things harder."

"What's harder?" she starts to ask, then her eyes widen in realization. "Oh...,"

We laugh, and Kelly remains standing. I resist the urge to grab her by the waist and pull her to bed.

"I love those stockings," I add.

"Me too," she says, lifting one leg.

"Now tell me, and be honest," she says, looking solemn. "Is this too much? You know, to wear to class or work?" Kelly turns sideways again and then cups her breasts before cupping her ass.

What is she doing? Is she trying to turn me on or just teasing me?

"Well, maybe, but not one guy or many of the women would complain," I laugh, "fuck, Kel, you wear that to class, and you'll become the subject of many sexual fantasies. That dress fits you like a second skin. I don't think you could be any hotter and still have clothes on.."

I feel my erection grow, and thankful that I'm wearing baggy jeans. Not that it matters, she noticed it before, and I'm sure she sees it now. I'm just a little confused at the moment, she's being so suggestive and turning me on, but she just stopped us a few minutes ago. The sexual tension is so thick you can cut it with a knife.

And to make matters worse, she keeps talking about Bil coming over.

Kelly sits back down next to me, closer than before. Our arms, hips, and legs touch and I feel her breathing and the warmth of her body.

"I hope he's not late tonight," she says, looking out the window.

What the fuck? Kelly sits closer to me and then talks about Bill.

"At least you have Bill coming," I say, not hearing what I said until she answers.

"Oh, he will, hopefully, more than once," Kelly laughs. "In the shape, I'm in, I'll be cumming early and often."

"Good for you," I say with some frustration that Kelly doesn't pick up on.

"Oh yeah, many times before he dips his long wick into me," she says.

"Long?" I teasingly ask, "So he's got a big one?" If she wants to talk about Bill, then let's talk about Bill.

"Hell yes," she laughs, "he reaches all the right spots."

"A regular John Holmes is he?" I smile, not sure if she knows the reference.

"God no, but he is long." Kelly holds her hands about eight apart.

"Nice," I say with a bit of envy, "good for him; I bet you like that."

"It feels so good," her eyes close, and her voice is a little dreamy, "it goes so..." Her voice trails off before she says anything more specific. Her mind has gone somewhere else.

"Well, at least someone's going to get some," my voice sounds dejected. "I guess I'll have a date with Righty later."

"What? Huh?" Kelly comes out of her fantasy. "Who's Righty?" Kelly is looking at me with a questioning expression.

I hold my right hand over my crotch like I'm holding my cock, and pump it up and down a few times. Kelly's eyes grow wide.

"Or Lefty," I do the same thing with my other hand. I laugh when I finish.

"Oh fuck," she laughs. "That sucks."

"No sucking, I'm not that nimble," I laugh again, my hands falling to my lap. "Just a self-applied hand-job."

Kelly doesn't have a comeback for that, and we sit silently for a few moments.

"Wait, show me that again." she insists, interrupting my frustration.

"What?" I have a quizzical look on my face. "You want me to pretend I'm beating off?"

"No. Please, hold out your hand like before," Kelly asks.

I hold my hand the same way. She forms her hand in the same shape and sets it on mine. She opens her hand more to match the shape of mine. I'm 6'2", she's 5'3", and my hands are way bigger than hers. My fingers form a circle, and the tips of my thumb and middle finger barely touch. Kelly's two fingers are over an inch apart.

"Damn," she says appreciatively. "Is that accurate?"

"Accurate?" I don't understand her question.

"Is that how big you are?" she asks, looking at her hand.

"Big around?" I'm still confused.

"Your..., you know," she points at my crotch. "Is that how thick your dick is?" She laughs and seems a bit embarrassed.

"Oh... well, you should know," I say, "you were holding it."

"Not really," she says, "and not for long, because... because I was distracted when you made me cum." She lets out a nervous laugh.

"Oh..., well..., yeah, pretty close," I feel self-conscious. "If I have a hardon." She is still looking at the bulge in my jeans.

"Damn..." her voice trails off.

She looks at her hand before picking up her water bottle and drinking. She looks at her hand holding the bottle.

"Not a little willie then," she looks and sounds slightly impressed. "I couldn't really tell..., earlier."

Kelly pauses for a moment, looking straight ahead and not at me.

"You're joking about it being hard," she asks, "aren't you?"

She glances at me, and her brown eyes sparkle. A wry smile on her face.

I wonder if she can see the confusion I'm feeling. Does she want me to show her? I consider standing up and dropping my pants. What's the worst that can happen? She'll tell me to pull them back up. The other possibility is that she won't. If she wants to check it out, there is no telling what might happen. I wimp out and stammer through a response.

"Not fully, some..., a little maybe." I downplay my response. I wonder if I just missed an opportunity, so I ask her.

"Do you want to see it," I look straight at her when I ask.

She pauses again before she answers.

"No, just wondering," she says, the same wry smile on her face. "I did cop a good feel earlier."

"Yes, yes, you did," I add.

Our conversation pauses, and 'Brown Eyed Girl, by Van Morrison, comes on the stereo. We sing along with it. And then the next song, too, American Pie. When the commercial starts, we fall silent, letting the buzz soak in, and the late afternoon sun bathes us in its warm rays. Confused frustration takes its toll, and I sigh and fall back on the bed. I lock my hands over my belly and close my eyes.

I feel Kelly's hand on my thigh.

"You ok?" she asks.

"Yeah," I lied, "just chillin'." I don't open my eyes.

I lied because I was sexually frustrated and didn't want to do anything that might ruin our friendship. These feelings are accentuated by Kelly's back-and-forth behavior. One minute she is coming on to me, and the next talking about fucking Bill. Fucking Bill, I like him; he's been good to Kelly, but still, fucking Bill. He's not really a friend; he's an acquaintance. Not that friendship has stopped me from a conquest. Last summer, I fucked my best friend's girlfriend. He never found out because they broke up after he caught her fucking another guy. But still, I'm sure I'll do it again. I can be such a shitty friend.

My self-loathing is interrupted when I feel Kelly turn towards me; her hand shifts up my thigh a little. I lied earlier; I have a sizable erection that won't go away. It is probably visible because I laid it down on my left leg when I arranged myself in the bathroom. I am sure Kelly can see it. Her eyes might be on my upper body, but I don't think so. To test my hypothesis, I flex my erection. Her sharp intake of breath and her fingers jerk into my thigh give me my answer. I wonder if she is contemplating touching me. Her fingers are very close to my cockhead. I flex it again; this time, I hear her humming, and her hand gently squeezes my thigh. This causes me to get even harder, and my cock involuntarily flexes, with the same result. I resist smiling. I wonder how often I can do it before she does something else. Her fingers are so close.

"Penny, for your thoughts?" I ask, thinking this may move things along, and I'm curious how she will respond.

"Oh, just enjoying the view on this sunny day," she says, admitting and not admitting she is looking at me.

Her non-response does not move the situation along. So I thought.

A moment later, her body hit the bed next to me. I turn my head and see her looking at me with a sexy smile. Then she turns to stare at the ceiling before closing her eyes. I prop myself up on my left elbow. Kelly is lying beside me, her arms outstretched above her head. Intentionally or not, her dress is pulled tighter against her body. The swells of her breasts grow with each breath. The hem of her skirt is three-quarters the way up her thighs. To my surprise, she spread her legs apart, causing her dress to rise even higher.

I glance up and down her stretched-out body. Her eyes remain closed, and the sunshine highlights the delicate features of her oval face. A peaceful, contented expression fills her beautiful face. Kelly's whole demeanor exudes a relaxed serenity. I silently sigh, thinking I've never seen her this lovely. It may be a side-effect of the weed, but everything about her inflamed my desire for her.

Kelly's mid-length wavy brown hair spreads out on the bed above her head. Her straight bangs are slightly parted in the middle, just inches about her crescent eyebrows. A subtle hint of turquoise eye shadow adorns her closed eyelids. The always flawless skin of her cheeks shows no sign of makeup, but her upturned lips shimmer with a light-pink lip gloss.

Kelly appears asleep, and I feel a strong urge to lean over, kiss those glistening lips, and wake Sleeping Beauty. I admire the uniform pale tan shin from her face and the soft chin line over her smooth throat to her upper chest. Her collarbones softly protrude above the neckline of her skirt.

Her skirt accentuates her small but shapely body. I remember when we first met; it was weeks before I saw her without heavy winter clothes. Her smallish breasts form well-defined twin mounds in the tight-fitting material. Her nipples create tiny points at the top of each. Her breathing causes her breasts to rise and fall in a slow, steady rhythm. I wonder what they'd feel and taste like in my mouth. My mind fills with lusty thoughts as I look further down her flat stomach to where the dress clings to her waist and hips. Kelly's parted legs cause the dress to highlight her mound rising at the apex of her legs. I imagine pulling the skirt over the curve of her hips, exposing her most treasured place. How would she react to my tongue? My mind falls further into the abyss as I imagine the sensation of her warm lips slipping along the sensitive skin of my shaft as I enter her. What would it feel like to be enveloped by her tight sheath?

I almost moaned at the thought, but at that exact moment, Kelly sighed softly, contented. I freak out at the coincidence and look back at her sweet face. Kelly has not moved, but when I look, her lips part, and the tip of her tongue licks her upper lip. I so want to taste her lips. Glancing down at her rising chest, I wonder if it's my imagination or do her nipples look larger. Imaginings and wishful thinking... My arousal heightened as I gazed wantonly at her body.

Then I wonder if she has just changed the game. Where I was waiting for her to act, was she now waiting for me? Is she waiting for me to initiate? She did start the last round. She ground herself against me and squeezed my cock. Does she want me to make the first move, so she can go along with it? Does that help her justify what happens? I am filled with questions and doubts about what should or shouldn't happen next.

"Penny, for your thoughts?" her soft voice asks.

I lean over and kiss her.

Some Of Them Want To Be Used By You....

Kelly's lips are soft and sweet, and I resist moaning when they finally meet mine. To my surprise, Kelly lets out a pent-up sigh as she gently returns my kiss. She parts her warm lips, allowing my tongue to slowly pass between them. With her eyes still closed, another sigh escapes her mouth as our kiss deepens. Her soft lips, the light brush of her tongue, and the sounds of her pleasure conspire to increase my passion.

We do nothing more than kiss for several minutes, and the whole time I'm worried she will stop me. I expect Kelly will slap my face and yell at me, "what the hell do you think you're doing." But she never does, and with each passing minute, my desire for her grows, and I feel more encouraged by her willingness to go further. But simultaneously, she remains still and with her eyes closed. Her only movements are with her mouth and breathing. Her sounds of pleasure assure me she is present and enjoying what's happening. I am afraid to speak for fear of breaking the spell. But in my mind, I believe she is giving me the green light.

I moan as my tongue swirls through her mouth. I feel the tentative touch of her tongue against mine. I place my hand on her abdomen, eliciting a sharp intake of breath and then a soft moan as her body relaxes. My hand glides over and around her firm belly. I kiss my way from her lips, chin, and cheek, dragging my tongue down the side of her neck. Kelly moves her head to her left, offering me her neck. I kiss, lick, and nibble on her soft flesh. My tongue leaves damp trails as I kiss and lick her smooth skin. I gently kiss and nibble on her earlobe, tracing her piercings. Soft moans escape her mouth, and I feel her breaths become more rapid.