by C Standing
Jesus.
I can’t deny that what she’s doing doesn’t feel good. Being touched like this after years of nothing is like paradise.
“I’m more than happy to be the one bringing you back into the wonderful world of sex.”
I must be in some kind of alternate universe where everything is backward, because how the hell is my best friend on her knees in front of me, ready to eat me out?
“I’m straight,” I pant, feeling the need to say it one more time, in spite of how fucking good this feels. “I don’t like women.”
“I’m aware,” she replies, gripping my sleep shorts and yanking them down the rest of the way, so I’m completely naked from the waist down. “Yet here you are trembling, dripping, and completely at my mercy.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
This is so wrong. So wrong.
She takes in every bare inch of me, and I watch in amazement as her pupils dilate and her nostrils flare. “Such a pretty cunt.” A low purr emanates from the back of her throat and barely a second goes by before she’s splitting her fingers into a V and spreading me wide.
Oh fuck.
“This is so wrong,” I gasp as she licks the tips of her fingers and plays with my saturated folds, teasing me and building my desire.
“Bestie?”
“W-what?” I ask on a broken moan, my knees close to buckling.
“Shut the fuck up and let me eat your pussy.”
I feel like I should say something, protest, but I can’t focus on anything other than the way she’s touching me. It’s so sultry and erotic; every stroke and rub amps up my pleasure, bringing me closer to the release I haven’t had in so fucking long.
Mali coasts two digits up and down my embarrassingly wet slit, her nimble fingers zeroing in on my clit. “Tell me to make you cum,” she demands, her voice growing dark as the ministrations on my swollen bud increase.
I swallow hard and squeeze my eyes shut. “Mali,” I breathe, barely able to form a coherent sentence.
She clucks her tongue in disapproval and circles my clit faster. “Not the right answer, bestie. Tell me what I want to hear,” she taunts.
“Please,” I whimper, palming the top of her head and guiding her to where I need her the most.
“You’re so pink and wet. You’re aching for my mouth, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” I cry out because what’s the fucking point in denying the truth? I’ve never been so turned-on in all my life.
My nipples stiffen with arousal, and I can’t help it. I cup my breasts, touching myself, needing something to relieve the pressure.
Darkened eyes peer up at me. “Look at you touching yourself for me like a naughty little slut.”
I suck in a sharp breath as she eases two fingers inside of me, while simultaneously circling my clit.
“Get your fucking top off. Let me see those beautiful tits.”
I do as she says, lifting my tank up and over my body, revealing my breasts to my best friend’s hungry gaze. My hair swishes over my shoulders and chest, and she groans. Climbing to her feet, Mali’s hands reverently skim the length of my figure.
“Damn, girl.” Her blackened eyes find mine as she cups each breast and squeezes hard. Leaning down, Mali flicks her tongue out and swirls it around one nipple before moving to the other. “Such a sexy fucking rack.”
I watch through heady eyes, hardly able to look away, as she wraps her lips around my hardened peak and sucks hard. A low groan slips free as she bites down, making me hiss before soothing the pain away with her tongue.
Desire courses through my veins as my traitorous hand flies into her hair and pushes her face into me.
“Mmm, that’s my girl.” She smirks around my breast, scraping her teeth across my sensitive nipple. “Treat me like I’m your dirty little whore. Punish me for being a bad girl and wanting to bury my face in my best friend’s pussy.” She bites down hard, and I damn near see stars.
“Oh fuck,” I moan, gripping her brown strands and dropping my head to hers.
Mali attacks my tits like they’re her only source of sustenance, burying her face in my chest and lapping, suckling, biting, and nipping at me until it becomes too much.
“Mali, please…” I moan.
Releasing my breast with a loud pop, she grips the back of my neck and smashes her mouth to mine.
My body lights up as we kiss wantonly.
She plunges her tongue into my mouth and curls it with mine.
Unable to hold back anymore, I give into this wave of forbidden desire surging between us and kiss her back with everything I have.
I’ve never touched a woman like this, never felt a woman’s kiss, but I’m so fucking lost in this moment—in her—I block out everything and just go with it.
Skating my hands from her hair to her impressive bosom, I palm her tits and swipe my thumbs across her pebbled nipples.
We moan into each other’s mouth, and she slowly pushes us backward until my calves hit something hard.
Mali breaks the kiss, her greedy mouth going for my neck as her hands move down between my legs. I gasp as she shoves a finger inside of me, slamming into me with relentless thrusts before pulling out and bringing it to her mouth.
Closing her eyes, she moans and licks my essence off. “Mmm, so fucking good.” Grasping my shoulders, she pushes me back, and I land with a bounce between a mountain of cushions. “Spread those legs and let me eat that sweet cunt,” she instructs in a raspy voice, her chest heaving.
Helpless to do anything else, I lie back and angle myself so I’m ready for the taking. Any embarrassment or hesitation I felt before is long gone as I widen my legs as far as they’ll go.
She drops down and eyes my pussy like it’s the hottest thing she’s ever seen. Her soft hands run up my legs and thighs, and my head lolls back onto a pillow as she leans down and drags the tip of her tongue up the length of my slit.
“Oh fuck,” I moan, my hips arching off the sofa as I roll my pussy against her face.
Her hands hook around my thighs, keeping me in place as she swirls her tongue around my clit before sucking it into her mouth. Chills break over my skin as the pleasure spikes in my veins.
Sinking my teeth into my lip, I thread my fingers through her hair as she frantically moves her head from side to side. Trailing her tongue lower, Mali circles the tip around my entrance, teasing me until I keen, before delving inside.
“Mali.” I release a ragged sigh as she pumps her tongue in and out of me in quick, feverish strokes, fucking me just like she promised.
“Tell me,” she reiterates her earlier words. “Tell me to make you cum.” Returning her attention to my clit, she inserts two fingers in my sex and rams them into me like it’s an Olympic fucking sport.
It’s too much.
“Make me cum,” I cry out, rocking my pussy over her face.
Her head shakes frantically as she lashes at me with her greedy tongue. “Call me a whore.”
“Eat my pussy, you dirty fucking whore,” I growl, forcing her face into my wetness, and lifting my hips to ride her fingers.
“Fuck,” comes on her muffled moan.
The combination of her mouth teasing my clit and her fingers fucking my pussy becomes more than I can bear, and I squeeze my thighs together, almost putting her in a headlock as I clench around her.
“Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck,” I chant as I explode in her mouth, my orgasm steamrolling into me, and knocking me for six.
Does she let up?
Hell no. This is Mali we’re talking about.
The bitch goes hell for leather on my pussy, swallowing and licking every drop of my cum until I’m crying out, fisting her hair, and riding her face all over again.
Drawing back, Mali looks up at me, smirking, my arousal glistening across her face. “Did I do good, or did I do fucking good?”
Unable to respond to her with words, I grip her face and capture her lips in an ardent kiss. Tasting myself on her tongue is a surprisi
ng aphrodisiac. I never would’ve thought I’d like the flavor of my own release, but I’m realizing there’s a lot of things I thought I wouldn’t like that I’m turning out to love.
My legs wind around her waist as our kiss deepens, and I run my hands over the feminine curves of her body. Palming her ass, I lift my hips, grinding my pussy against hers, desperate to feel her skin on mine.
“I want to feel you,” I whisper, pulling at her camisole.
Sitting up, she stays nestled between my legs as she removes her top. I gaze at her in wonderment, gliding my hands over her toned thighs and smooth stomach.
There’s no denying that she’s fucking beautiful. Any guy or girl would be lucky to have her.
And for right now, she’s mine.
The next morning, I wake to the mouthwatering aroma of coffee, and a lethal hangover.
Rolling over, I squint and lift a hand to block the sun streaming through the blinds in Mali’s spare bedroom.
Mali. Fuck.
Images of last night’s events filter through my mind like a slide show. We’d done things together, touched and tasted each other in ways that go against the rules of friendship.
Do I regret it? No. But I don’t think I’d do it again.
Being with her was hot as hell, but once was enough for me. I’m not looking to add more complications to my life.
Which is why, after our escapade in the shower, I’d suggested we sleep in separate bedrooms. Granted, I can see how pointless that sounds in the light of day, but I needed to put some distance between us. I didn’t want to lead her on any more than I already had.
Now I have to face the music. I have to go downstairs and act normal with a girl I spent most of the night screwing.
Fucking hell.
What was I saying about complications?
Groaning, I grab the nearest pillow and smother it over my face. As much as I’ve enjoyed spending time with the girls, I think I need to go home.
Sitting up, I ignore the thumping in my head as I swing my legs off the bed. Just as I take the first step, a pang of pain hits me between the legs, and I wince.
Making my way into the adjoining bathroom, I relieve myself and turn on the faucet. Splashing my face with water, I tilt my head up and stare at myself in the mirror. Droplets of water drip from my chin as I examine the very prominent evidence of our night together covering my body. Bite marks in the shape of her mouth are dotted all over my neck and breasts.
Damn. The woman really went to town on me.
Thankfully it’s sweater weather in Province, so they will be easy to disguise.
Drying my face and hands, I comb my fingers through my hair and make my way downstairs.
Mali's leaning against the kitchen sink, watching something on TV with a hot mug of something in her hand. “Morning, sleepyhead.”
Cagily, I make my way around the breakfast counter, ignoring the way her eyes follow me. “Morning,” I reply, pouring myself a cup.
“How’d you sleep?” she asks, cradling her coffee between both hands.
Pressing a hip against the counter, I bring the steaming beverage to my nose and inhale the rich aroma. “Like a dream, actually.”
A satisfied smirk tips her lips. “I’m not surprised after last night.”
Fuck.
Tension locks in my spine and my stomach drops as apprehension fills my veins. “Mali, we promised we wouldn’t talk about last night,” I warn, and she laughs.
“Would you chill already? I’m fucking with you.” She turns, rinses out her mug, and places it in the dishwasher. “Relax, bestie. I know the deal.”
I’ve never felt awkward or uncomfortable around her, but right now I want the floor to open up and swallow me whole. “Last night was amazing but—”
“It was just sex,” Mali fills in the blanks, a salacious smirk on her face. “You can’t blame me for wanting a taste, you’re hot as hell. But I get it, McKinley. Believe it or not, this isn’t my first rodeo. I know the drill, okay?”
My heart hurts at the blasé way she’s acting, like being rejected is an everyday occurrence. It eats me up inside. “Mali, come on. Don’t be like that. Last night was special and I’m glad it was with you, but you’re my best friend, I don’t want to lose you.”
Blowing out a frustrated sigh, she snatches the cup from my hand, puts it down, and hauls me into a bone-crushing hug. “Would you shut up? I told you nothing would change between us, and I meant it.”
I hear what she’s saying, but I’m not an idiot. We had sex. We came in each other’s mouths. She’d bent me over her bed, fisted my hair, and fucked me from behind with a double-ended strap-on. I’d straddled her waist and ridden her hard and fast as she played with my tits.
We didn’t just go beyond the realms of friendship; we fucking smashed through the boundaries and rode the hell out of it until those boundaries became nothing more than shattered lies.
Things like this change people.
Emotion builds behind my eyes as I wrap my arms around her waist. “I feel awful, like I’m letting you down or something.” I don’t want to lose her over one reckless night of passion.
“You and your fucking brain.” Pulling back, she cups my face. “You have zero reason to feel bad, McKinley. You gave me one of the hottest fucking nights of my life.”
I pull back, unconvinced, and gnaw on my lower lip. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Releasing an agitated sigh, she snaps her head back to the ceiling. “For fuck’s sake, woman. You haven’t hurt me. I knew what I was getting into and I’m cool with it. Stop over-reacting. It was a one-night thing, not an explicit love affair. Chill out.”
I highly doubt she’s as ‘cool with it’ as she’s letting on, but not wanting to get into an argument on my last day here, I let it go.
“If you say so.”
Her features soften and she laces our fingers together. A perfectly platonic gesture of affection. “Positive.”
A moment of pregnant silence passes between us. She’s looking at me, I’m looking and her, but it’s different. There’s no ease to us like there used to be. Instead, there’s an invisible wall.
I flatten my lips and wring my fingers together. There’s a question burning in my mind, but I’m not sure if I should ask it. But that goes against everything I believe in. I’ve always faced my problems head-on. I’ve never seen the point in delaying the inevitable.
Fuck it. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Tell you what?”
“You know what.”
Her brow raises. “That I’m into you?”
I nod.
“What’s the point? I knew it wouldn’t change anything.”
I gnaw on my lip. “You still could’ve told me, Mali. We’re best friends. We used to tell each other everything.”
She folds her arms and shrugs, a vulnerable expression filling her eyes. “Some things are best left alone. I wasn’t about to ruin what I have with you over a stupid fucking crush.”
I take her hand and give her an affectionate squeeze. “It’s not a stupid fucking crush, Mali, it’s how you felt, and I’d never judge you or belittle those feelings. And don’t be stupid, you could never lose me, Mali. I love you, and I’d never let anything come between us.”
“I love you too, bestie.” She pulls me in for a bear hug. “Now, let’s get some food in you. I can hear your stomach growling from here.”
I roll my eyes and snicker. “Yes, Mom.”
Winking, she sets about making us breakfast. “Have you spoken to Joey?”
Pursing my lips together, I take a seat at the counter. “I did last night.” I circle my finger around the rim of the mug. “She says she’s proud of me.”
Peering back at me over her shoulder, Mali frowns. “Why do you sound off? What did I miss?”
“You didn’t miss anything,” I echo her words back to her. “I’m happy she’s proud of me.” Even though I don’t feel it in my soul.
“Bestie,
it’s too fucking early for riddles. Say what’s on your mind.”
Looking out her bay window, I take in the gray sky and snow-tipped trees. “I guess I just…” I pause, trying to piece together what I’m trying to say. “I really am happy she’s proud of me, but I almost feel like everything I’ve done lately has been for her. She says she wants me to live for me, but how am I doing that if I’m ticking off all the things she wants me to do?”
All these years I’ve been putting Joey’s needs above mine, and even though she’s away at school, I still feel like I’m living life for her instead of me.
She wants me to reconnect with the girls, and I have—even though I probably would’ve done that myself sooner or later.
She wants me to sell the apartment and move into a nicer place. I’m currently in the process of doing that.
She wants me to date… well, that one’s a working progress.
I feel like I need to do something for me.
I love the house, and I’m glad I made the decision to buy it, even though the thought of leaving my parents behind saddens me, but I’m slowly moving past it.
Laying two rashers of bacon in the pan, Mali walks over to the faucet to wash her hands. “Joey just wants you to live your best life, bestie.” Drying her hands on the dishcloth, she continues, “But you’re right. This is your life and you need to start doing stuff for you.”
“Exactly!”
“You do you. Live life to the extreme, that’s my motto. Take the bull by the motherfucking horns and ride the shit out of it. The world is your oyster.”
Yes, it is. But now it’s all out in the open, I feel a little overwhelmed. I could do anything, go anywhere, so where do I start?
Plating up our breakfast, she serves me mine. “What’s something you’ve always wanted to do?”
I sit there for a second, grinding my teeth as I think about the one place I’ve always wanted to visit but never had the chance to. “When I was in high school, I had this dream of going to New York.”
Shoving her eggs onto her fork, she stops mid-flow and peers up at me. “Shut the fuck up. That’s awesome. Why didn’t you ever say anything?”
I shrug coyly. “It was a pipe dream.”