Part One of Cardiac Arrest, the love story of a man torn between his girlfriend and his best friend.

John's girlfriend had decided that sex was no longer important in their relationship. It was a relationship that had become all about cuddling and his girlfriend falling asleep, leaving him horny, lonely and disappointed night after night. His advances weren't welcome.

Any questions about how they could relight her fire, or make it easier were swept away with, "It's me."

This went on for days, then weeks, then months. These sexless, intimate-less months dragged on, as John slowly descended from boyfriend, to friend, to roommate, to just the guy who spends most nights on the couch.
 
About the time that this all started, a new girl began working in his office. John instantly found her attractive from the minute he clapped eyes on her. She looked hot in her uniform.

She walked over to him and said, "Hi, my name's Tasha."
 
She had a sweet-sounding voice that sent shock waves through him. Her gentle, well-spoken manner was attractive. Her hair was thrown back into a rough bun, with spikes of beautiful jet black hair hanging down from it.
 
Her uniform hugged her body. He noticed her tongue piercing, and through her shirt, and could see a nipple piercing poking out. As he scanned her body, he could feel his now semi erect bulge starting to poke out. He was glad he was sitting down at a desk, because his member was stiffening by the minute, and John was now surrounded by an office full of people.
 
In the weeks and months that passed, John and Tasha exclusively worked together, and had become best friends, able to tell each other absolutely anything. The sexual tension between them was electric, but they tried as hard as they could to maintain the boundaries. Tasha knew that John had feelings for her, probably somewhat a little deeper than hers for him. She found it hard to trust men, after a number of abusive and explosive relationships, which generally ended after she'd been cheated on, she was unwilling to give her heart away again. She'd become that person, she empowered herself by cheating on partners. She was proud of it, even if it was only verbally to save face. John knew this. He knew she wasn't really like that, and he had grown to know the real her. In these weeks and months, he grew to love her more and more, until all he could think about was her. He dreamed about her nightly.
 
Knowing that he would dream of Tasha made going to bed a pleasure. He would often dream of kissing her, holding her and hearing her say that she loved him. He would often wake up in the night, finding himself retiring to the bathroom to masturbate at the fantasy of her.
 
He felt guilty. Despite everything, he still loved coming home to his girlfriend. She was steady, secure and she didn't have the reputation for ending relationships by cheating. He knew she wouldn't hurt him, although it felt like she drove a dagger through his chest every time she rebuffed his advances night after night. John knew that no one would get hurt if he could keep doing what he was doing. He could love his girlfriend on the physical plain, while satisfying his sexual urges and desires inside his mind.
 
John had lost confidence in his appearance, had began gaining weight. He felt lifeless at times, and was constantly tired, where he was visiting the bathroom night after night to release his bulging, growing sexual tension. He was worried that he wouldn't have the same confidence again sexually, either. Would he suffer from premature ejaculation? Would he be able to satisfy a woman again? And would he ever find the sexual stamina he was once proud of?
 
All these questions and doubts continued to add to the wedge that was now growing in his relationship. Even the cuddling and hugging had now stopped.
 
Tasha was also struggling to find herself. She slept with several partners, throwing herself at "friends." These friends were actually exes and old hookups. They didn't love her. Sure, she enjoyed being thrown around the bedroom like a sexual rag doll, but she couldn't bring herself to kiss them. She also couldn't bring herself to perform oral sex on them. She was beginning to miss the closeness of it all.
 
It was Christmas time, and it was the night of the, now legendary, Christmas party. The whole office descended on the city like a firm of football hooligans, free from the shackles of uniform and work. Their sheer numbers and howls of laughter made them feel strong. People who weren't previously known to be smokers were seen furiously puffing away, and the quieter members of the team were showing their true party animal selves.
 
The night wore on, with drinking and dancing. John and Tasha kept apart, choosing not to dance with each other, out of fear of rumours that were now circulating. Sure, they bought and shared drinks and cigarettes, but John watched on as Tasha danced her way around the club, latching on to men and other colleagues. This was killing John inside. He wanted to be the only man she was grinding against, rhythmically banging her hips against theirs, in time with the music.
 
She knew what she was doing, gazing over at him like a star-cross'd lover. Her eyes were afire and aglow with passion with each mesmerising gaze.
 
John knew had to get out of there.

He walked to the bar. His head spinning from the mixture of booze and feelings pulsating through every channel and nerve of his being. He was love-drunk, intoxicated on her. He remembered all of his dreams about her, and how he felt each time he approached climax as he stroked and rubbed himself to thoughts of her. He gathered his thoughts, straightening his tie, desperately trying, and failing to compose himself. When he returned, he found her, tracking his every move with her gaze. She reached over to the man she was dancing with and began kissing him.
 
John felt his heart crush, and he felt sick to the pit of his stomach. He was jealous. She'd cracked him. And boy, did she know it.
 
Shortly after, he decided to leave, making excuses that he had enough to drink and wanted to get home. He said his goodbyes, finally getting around to her.
 
"I'll see you Monday, partner" she said, hugging him. "Text me when you're home!" she demanded.
 
John nodded, he was still holding her close, his arms around her waist. She held her arms around the nape of his neck, not wanting to let go. John knew if he didn't leave now, he would stay, and he would tell her everything. He also knew he wanted to punch the guy she'd been kissing. He knew it wasn't the guy's fault. He was collateral damage. He'd been swept up in her warpath, but had been discarded like an unwanted puppy the second she saw John saying his goodbyes.
 
The long train ride home made John want to cry. Maybe it was the drink, or perhaps it was her. Holding her so tight, it made him feel so strong. He felt so wanted. Her body was screaming out, calling to him, begging him not to go; and if he was, could he take her with him? He kissed her warm, now tear stained cheek. He pulled away, turning and heading towards the door. Just as he exited, he turned one last time. Tasha hadn't moved. She was watching him walking away.

She mouthed, "I love you," to him, although he was so far away by now, he would never have clearly made out the words.

She was crushed as she saw him ascending the stairs.
 
The laughter further down the carriage continued, as it was now also the long journey home for the city boys, out partying up town, before travelling back to their suburban daydreams. John sat in silence, slumped in his chair, shattered by his soul.
 
John arrived home, shattered. His girlfriend had waited up for him. She was in bed when he arrived home. She tried to kiss him seductively, rubbing at his loins, cupping him. She pulled back the duvet to reveal her naked body. She began to run her fingers between her breasts, slowly over her stomach and towards her vagina. Her fingers circled her throbbing clitoris as she moaned. She offered her fingers towards John's face. This was the intimacy that had been missing for all those months. He took them into his mouth and tasted her juices. He closed his eyes, but all he could see was Tasha. All he could see was the glitter ball, the strobe lights, the hustle and bustle of the crowd and her, kissing that guy.
 
He tried to shake the thoughts from his mind, as he felt his trousers being tugged at. Once the belt had been removed, the button and fly were easily wrestled open by her hands. He was powerless as she took his throbbing tool into her mouth, gently rocking her head backwards and forwards. The disappointments of earlier that night faded as the warmth and moistness of her mouth encompassed his throbbing member. He could feel her fingers tickling at his testicles, moving slowly further and further back, until she was tickling his anus. He'd never been into that, or tried it, but he found his usual stuff upper lip mentality fade. Maybe it was the drink, or maybe it was him getting high off the fumes of her intimacy.

She stopped, pulling away, laying back and revealing her hairy, wet hole. He unbuttoned his shirt as she removed hers, showing the fine pair of breasts and rock hard browning nipples he had long since forgotten. Before he knew it, he was naked. She looped his tie back over his head and pulled her towards him. They didn't kiss as months of tension exploded between them. She became wetter and wetter, as he found himself losing sensation. The bed sheets were soaked in her essence as he slowly made his way towards orgasm himself with each thrust of his hips, pushing further, faster and deeper inside of her. He could hear her screams of ecstasy as he felt their bodies arch as they climaxed in unison. He lay his head to her chest, they were both breathing heavily. He was still inside her, and could feel both their juices running out of her, over him and onto the bed sheets.
 
Neither wanted to move. He knew he hadn't made love just then.
He knew that he had found a release for the night. Feeling slightly guilty, he withdrew from her, pulling their juices out from her as he did so.
 
He crashed out, laying next to her; dreaming that she was Tasha. Dreaming that he could hold her, and she would play with the hairs on his chest as they fell asleep in his arms. He knew that the love had gone from this relationship. His heart was no longer in it.
 
He finally admitted to himself; Tasha had done it. She had cuffed his heart. John was under finally under Cardiac Arrest.