tagInterracial LoveWhat Are Friends For?

What Are Friends For?


It had been 6 months since my husband died in a car accident when I started to come out of my shell and begin to feel alive again. I attributed a lot of my new gusto for life to Logan. We work together in the Marketing Department and had been partnered on a couple of campaigns for the past two years. Early on, we had developed a foxhole friendship when as a result of constant downsizing, we were forced to work overtime every night and traveled together on several campaigns.

He was a gorgeous guy, 6'3, great fit body, black, wavy, hair green eyes, but it was his sexy husky voice, cocky style and sardonic sense humor that kept my panties damp. He was the consummate alpha male. He had a quiet, intelligent, confidence about his work that was compelling and was cocky-asshole in his personal friendships. For me, it was an irresistible combination.

Though historically he never flirted overtly with me, indirectly he peaked my interest in a big way by regaling me with his sexual exploits and tapping into my erotic nature and curiosity in a manner no man ever had. We developed what I thought was a kind of older brother sister relationship -- he was protective, amusing and slightly annoying sometimes.

Because I was a bit shy, it always startled and disconcerted me when I realized a man as interested in me. I am second generation biracial; a real mut with African American, Irish and Puerto Rican in my bloodline, I stood 5'5 and was an exotic mix of curvy and petite with full, firm breasts, flat tummy and tight ass from going to the gym 3 times a week. My parents died when I was young, and I was raised by my maternal grandmother. I was the girl in school who was shy, quiet, and always had my nose in a book. I danced classical ballet and modern until my early twenties, so my body always attracted attention, which I tried to downplay with big clothes and unisex styles. I had two serious boyfriends in my life and married one of them.

The marriage was not a happy one. My husband had been physically and emotionally abusive but that was a secret that I shared with no one, while my husband was alive. And since it's difficult to accept condolences by responding, "please, don't give it another thought, I couldn't be happier" it seemed best to keep my thoughts to myself after his passing.

Recently, I noticed a different tone to Logan's and my friendship. He watched me all the time and seemed more possessive, I assumed it was because of the death of my husband. I could not put my finger on it, but it the trip to Florida changed everything. Our team had worked hard and the campaign and it included a two month preparation for a sales meeting that culminated in a late night celebration at a trendy bar in South Beach with some of our co-workers. One of the sales guys, Lance who was a great looking guy, single, about 6' 2" chocolate brown skin, great body and bald head; had always flirted with me and decided tonight was the night to take it beyond talking.

He asked me to dance. To everyone's surprise including my own, I accepted and we hit the dance floor with vigor to the hoots and encouragement of my friends who seemed happy to see the curvy, young widow in the sexy, black silk dress, enjoying herself. Everyone was laughing and teasing me when we returned to our table, except Logan, whose expression was downright angry. I assumed one of his women had spurned his advances and since that rarely happened he was pouting.

After the dance, Lance and I sat a little off by ourselves for a couple hours while the rest of the group laughed, danced and drank. I am not normally a drinker so 4 or 5 Mojitos later, I was feeling no pain and practically sitting on Lance's lap laughing at every word coming out of his mouth.

As I stood up to go to the bathroom, I noticed Logan was staring at me and Lance, still sitting quietly with a brooding expression. As I passed him I playfully ruffled his hair, and said, "hey pretty boy, enjoy yourself -- we earned it" he grabbed my hand and pulled me to stand between his legs with one hand on my hip, staring at me intently, with a serious expression, and asked me "do you know what you're doing?", with a head nod in Lance's direction. I giggled and held on to his shoulder as I swayed to the music, and said "no and for once I am not gonna think about it, I just want to feel something". His eyes darkened and his breath quickened as he stood and he pulled me by the hand and led me to the bathroom. "go inside and rinse your face with cold water, I am taking you back to the hotel" "Why?" I asked in a hushed voice, scared I had done something stupid.

"Because you don't know what you are doing and you will be sorry tomorrow" he said in a forced voice, full of that throaty sexy huskiness that made me want him so bad my insides ached. "No." I said,"I am not going back to the hotel with you, I am staying with Lance" I affirmed with my bottom lip jutting out, making my little stand.

"Oh really" he asked, one eyebrow lifting, advancing on me slowly as I backed into the wall near the bathroom door.

"Yes" I responded breathlessly for some reason, his expression and body language had me as wet as rain and I couldn't stop my heart from pounding as I looked directly into his darkening green eyes. He licked his bottom lip and I bit my lip harder to keep the little moan inside my throat.

When my back hit the wall, he stopped and put one of his large hands beside my either side of my head, trapping me and leaned down to say in my ear "Isa, get your fine ass in that bathroom and rinse your face and be ready to go back with me to the hotel in 5 minutes or I am gonna drag you back to the hotel and wear your tight ass out" he whispered, as calm as if he had asked me to go to lunch.

"What?" I asked stupefied; as bent under his arm, escaping as I walked pass him into the bathroom. Did my alcohol addled brain just hallucinate or did this man, my colleague and friend order me to do something and then allude to what? What did wearing my ass out mean anyway? Spanking, fucking, what? Either way, I was in and more terrified and turned on than I had ever been in my life. As I came out of the bathroom not sure if I was expecting him to still be there or not, he did not disappoint.

"Come on" he said as he firmly took my elbow, walked me to get my purse as he briskly walked me passed our colleagues explaining that I was not feeling well and he was taking me back to the hotel. We breezed by Lance who was standing up to say something, as Logan forcefully pulled me like a kid out the door.

The warm, sultry night did nothing for my increasing anger and that combined with my rising passion had me in an uncomfortable and unfamiliar state of mind and body. Logan stopped outside just long enough to hail a taxi to take us back to our hotel. As we sat in the darkened seat in the back of the taxi cab he did not say one word to me, but every time I ventured a quick glance he was staring at me with a quiet intensity that kept me squirming in my seat. Which, I am guessing, he noticed by the smirk on his face as he watched me.

"What was all that about back at the bathroom, anyway?" I asked trying to get things back to normal

"You are not ready for the Lance's of the world" he said smugly. " You are still vulnerable and I don't want anyone taking advantage of that" he said calmly looking into my face.

For some reason this made me very angry, who the hell did Logan think he was deciding when I was ready, determining that I was vulnerable. So emboldened by alcohol, I responded without editing, "Who the hell gave you the right to make those types of decisions for me? I am beyond ready and want to get laid, hell I need to get laid. You don't get to cock block and say it's in the name of friendship or looking out for me or whatever!" I exploded with all the pent up sexual frustration and anger I had been building over the past months.

My little outburst shocked and amused him, he literally stared at me with his mouth agape and laughingly said, "Isa, did you just say cock- block?" Turning toward me in the small seat, his large body suddenly made me feel so tiny as he grabbed my waist and pulled me closer whispering, "Did you say you need to get laid?" He chuckled and said under his breath that it's a good thing I am ready because he was too and it was finally about time.

"What does that mean?" I said still angry and getting madder that he found my frustration funny. "I will have you know that I use bad words a lot when I am not working, and it's a secret passion of mine to say cock and fuck on the regular, smartass" I said, still huffing that he did not see me as a normal woman but some widow-Madonna. It really pissed me off because I truly believed Logan was one of the few people who saw beneath my façade, we never discussed it, but his constant teasing and sexual innuendos made me think he knew me, the real me that few ever get to see. But no, he was like the everyone else, I thought, sitting beside him in the cab, squirming to pull away from his hot body and waiting to get to the hotel, so I could put distance between us before saying something that I could not take back.

By now he was laughing out loud and not bothering to hide the fact that he was still amused by me. "Who the fuck did he think he was anyway?" I wondered to myself and I figured I knew a way to wipe that smirk off his face and prove I was a real woman in one fell swoop. Without thinking about the consequences, I turned toward him and grabbed his face pulling him closer to me as I climbed on his lap and slipped my soft, wet mouth over his full lips straddling his legs.

Before he knew what hit him I was tasting and softly sucking his bottom lip into my mouth as I moved my hips in a slow circle above his groin. "Oh My God! What a package", I thought, his cock felt wonderful and it was thick and he was rock hard. I was just beginning to get off of him and felt so satisfied, with my that will show him victory, when he came out of his stupor and reached up, pulling my hair from it's normal bun, slid his hands in my hair, holding my head while he held me on him preventing me from moving my face or taking my mouth away.

I was moaning and whimpering as he slid his hands down my back, feeling the soft skin along the way until he grabbed my ass and opened his mouth sliding his tongue into my mouth taking over the kiss with a passion and a mastery that left me breathless. He was pulling my crotch over him, rubbing my clit against his hard dick, groaning. Neither of us closed our eyes as we watched each other during that intense kiss and he began sliding his hands under my dress and over my thighs, upwards until he reached the apex of my thighs and slid his fingers along the edge of my lace panties.

As he felt the soaking wet panties, he moaned into my mouth and ripped them off me as he slid his thick, finger along the edge of my pussy lips. My whimpering turned to a gasping moan and he never released my mouth as his dark green eyes and watched me as he slid his finger inside of me with a firm, swift movement that had me grinding into his body. As the cab pulled in front of our hotel, he pulled back gasping, both of us amazed at the intensity of the passion, he pulled back still breathing hard and attempted to help me pull my dress down.

As we pulled apart what I saw smoldering in his eyes scared the shit out of me and I hopped off of his lap. Grabbing my purse and flew into the hotel towards the elevator as he was detained paying the driver. As I looked back toward the cab, I saw him slip his finger inside of his mouth never taking his eyes off of me.

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bycherryontop1973© 12 comments/ 53297 views/ 27 favorites

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