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My Best Friend's Guy

The door crashed open and at practically the same time, all three of us squeezed our way in through the door way. I was drunk. The difference between every other time and this specific time, was that this was the first time I was not only twenty-one, but went out with a group of my friends dancing. Did I mention we had a blast? It was 3:34 in the morning. I was lucky my best friend was allowing me to sleep over because a cab to my own house would have been absurd money. She had told me earlier her boyfriend, Michael, would make sure to open up the pull-out couch for me so I would have somewhere to crash once they were off to their bedroom.

"I'm so tired…" She whined.

I was giggly. Once into the kitchen I threw my left arm onto the counter and began sloppily removing my heels. "So go to bed!" I practically yelped as if the hour was just after dinner. The only people in the house were her, myself, and her boyfriend, so my volume didn't seem to bother anyone. With a bit of a waddle and without a goodnight I heard her make her way up the stairs to her bedroom. My head was spinning.

Keeping my happy-go-lucky spirit alive, I barefoot and in my cute blue, short, party, dress, began raiding their cabinets. I pulled out a loaf of bread. "Michaeeel…" I slurred with an innocent smirk on my face.

"Whaaat?" He groaned back. He was just getting out of the bathroom and stood near the entrance of the kitchen staring at me. I didn't realize at this moment that he wasn't just looking at me how he always did. I spun the twisted plastic wrap open and ripped off a piece of bread, shoving it into my mouth.

"Open the bed-couch for me!" My mouth full, I leaned back onto the stove, turning my body facing toward his, although we were a solid few feet away. He paused for a moment… and although he didn't let his eyes look me up and down as dramatic as a vulture, for a moment I believe he undressed me through his contacts. Hm, nah.

I continued pressing bread past my pink lips as I watched him, clumsy, open up the couch. He had to move the coffee table and a few side chairs. It was a small apartment and opening the couch literally transformed the room from a cozy living room, to look more like a messy, well decorated, storage space. Once he was finished, he stood back and put his hands on his hips, approving of his hard work. He caught me watching him and smiled to one side of his mouth. "What're you sturrin' at?"

Playfully, I popped a piece of crust in my mouth. "Nuttin!" He began walking toward me. The room was poorly lit due to the fact we had only turned one light on. It was one of those open-floor-planned apartments. A kitchen that was connected to the living room. At this moment I could tell his body language was, well… different. He seemed more relaxed, but with an air of confidence that read, 'Yeah, I have a motive!' The idea made me nervous. Although, I'm not sure what idea specifically, but something about him was different.

He stepped real close to me, and without moving his head, let his eyes jump from the bag I was clutching to, to my mouth, and then to my eyes.

"What're you doing over here?"

"Just eating some bread…" I spoke rather quiet.

He stood for another moment in silence staring at me. He didn't move. I felt my heart sink to my stomach, and in one fluent motion I raised my hand and pressed a piece of bread to his lips. He instantly took it as if he was waiting for it, and I pushed passed him and made my way to my pull-out mattress. I tossed my body onto it and sighed loud. I had such a nice night, and I knew this nights sleep was going to be a great battery re-fill. I stopped paying attention to him at this point and grabbed the remote off the side table next to the couch. TV: On. MTV's greatest hip-hop videos!

"MTV's greatest hip-hop videos!" He shrieked, repeating my thoughts. I kept my eyes glued to the TV as he walked around to the opposite side of the mattress and invited himself on top. We sat for a few minutes in silence before I maneuvered my body a bit and tucked my bare legs beneath the blanket, snuggling myself in to the springed pad I was soon to sleep on. He mimicked my actions.

Instantly my nerves were every where. The floor, the mattress, the blanket, and mostly upstairs where my best friend had just gone to bed a little while before. I tried to react tired, although my mind was reading through hundreds of pages of thoughts at every second. He's just my good friend. My best friend's boyfriend. Plus, he hasn't even done anything wrong. Actually, he hasn't done anything at all! He has plenty of girl friends, and a beautiful girlfriend. He's just being comfortable around me. He knows I would never do anything behind my friend's back. Heck, he wouldn't do anything like that either! Wow, I am definitely just being crazy right now. I glanced at him at the corner of my eye. He was, sincerely, watching the TV. Ha, and to think… ugh, I definitely had a few too many drinks tonight.

I let a few music videos play before I turned myself onto my side with my back to him. I felt his body shift, instantly. I believe he was still on his back, but he was now directly next to me. I couldn't help myself, but my mind was still going. The volume was low on the television. You could barely hear the music. I thought for a second he could hear my heart beat when he cleared his throat. "Hey, Lynn, do you mind that I'm down here? I'm just not tired at all…" He spoke quiet through a hoarse voice.

Mine was now raspy, from the loud singing over the music we were recently dancing to, from the alcohol, and now from my sleepiness. "No, it's fine, Mike," I suggested politely. It was after all his house. He didn't answer me.

I suppose somewhere in between him asking if I minded him being behind me and my reply, I dozed off. When I became conscious again, I blinked my eyes open and was able to see the clock about the stove in the kitchen. It was now 4:45 in the morning. After thinking about the time, I realized I had completely disregarded the fact that Michael was now spooning me. His body was pressed against mine from behind.

I bit my lip and closed my eyes. He was still. I could feel the heat radiating off of his body through his clothes and onto me. He was still. I felt his breath on my neck through my hair. He was still. His arm was draped around my torso, and he slyly let his hand fall on my upper thighs right below my dress. I moved my hand up and pressed the palm of mine over the back of his, and as I was going to move his hand away, he pressed his finger tips into the skin of my thigh. He's been awake.

I took a sharp breath in at the same time as I felt him sigh a deep breath out, onto my neck. Instantly, good bumps covered my entire body. Other than my hand clutching onto his, I didn't move. He just barely rubbed my inner thigh with his finger tips. I felt a knot growing in my throat.

I could feel him inching his upper body closer to mine, and before I could really evaluate what position I was in, both figuratively and literally, he pressed his lips onto my shoulder. "Michael…" I whispered.

He didn't answer. With my hand still riding his, he moved his fingers deeper between my thighs, and finally I felt the tips of his fingers at the elastic of my panties. Without my realizing, my breathing was increased. I grabbed his hand a bit harder, and as I tried pulling his hand off yet again, he kissed my shoulder harder and slowly moved his lips up toward my neck. I can't be doing this! I squeezed my eyes closed as if it was just a dream I would hope to wake myself up from. Finally, he placed his entire hand over my panties. It wasn't until that moment where he cupped my vagina that he spoke; his hot breath on my neck. "You are wet, Lynn."

"We can't be doing this," I hissed, almost cutting off his sentence. Was I wet? I knew I felt a shiver at his touch, but this was wrong. I shouldn't be- actually, definitely, couldn't be, doing this. He began ticking his fingers up and down my damp underwear. He seemed to know exactly where the outline of all the parts of my vagina were located, and he made sure to rub tiny circles over all of the right places. Over my clit, down the outside of my lips, and trace over my wet hole, and then back up. I was now squirming.

"Michael-"

He cut me off with a loud, 'Shhh…' and began kissing behind my ear.

A few minutes had passed with him tracing the length of my pussy before finally he pressed his body closer to mine and I felt his erection against my ass. With his smooth hand, he forced me to my back and used his other hand to pull my under wear down to the top of my knees. I tried pushing my thighs together and he forced his hand back onto my now, naked, wet, crotch. He didn't hesitate, and shoved one of his fingers inside of me. I gasped. This is wrong.

He began slowly pushing his finger in and out of me. I was trying my hardest to control my breathing. I thought I was doing a great job. The only noise was coming from the quiet hip-hop music from the television, and after a few moments, a light wet dripping sound was popping from my pussy. Once the noise was audible enough, the intensity I felt from him as a person increased. He began thrusting his fingers in and out of me a bit harder, and his kisses on my neck became more hungry. He pulled his fingers out of me and used his now wet hand to push me back on my side with my back to him. No!

I knew what he was doing without looking. I wasn't able to hear his zipper, but from the shuffling, I instantly knew he was removing his bottoms. My heart was racing. This was so wrong, and yet my body was choosing to do nothing about it. My voice was gone, my body was frozen. He inched his body back close to mine, and as I could no longer simply breathe from my nose, I felt the tip of his shaft against my wet pussy. With one hand guiding his penis, he grabbed my hip with his other, and slowly pushed himself inside of me. I was lost. My mind was a dizzy mess, spinning. Enjoying and hating. Why was I doing this? To myself? Why was I letting him do this to me!? And why am I doing this to my best friend? How am I doing this to her?

He began thrusting himself in and out of me slowly. He felt like the perfect fit to my tight pussy. He was filling but not ripping. His body moved amazingly. He was expert. I laid in silence, pacing my breathing to match each of his motions in and out of my body. And just when I thought he was using my body, he shifted his fingers from holding onto my hips, and slowly moved them back between my thighs. Two of his fingers found my aching clit and he expertly began, gently, spinning them in small circles. Wow!

The first moan I could no longer contain slipped my lips, and I practically choked on my own breath. His fingers sent instant electric shocks of excitement throughout my entire body, and my best friend was no longer on my mind. He continued pushing the length of his cock in and out of my drenched pussy, keeping his fingers working on my clit.

"Michael, I--" I began to choke out loud through a moan, and he gritted his teeth onto my neck.

"Don't say a fucking word," he said, stern. What!? I couldn't believe the anger and seriousness in his voice. I swallowed hard, and instead of feeling regret or fear, I felt my legs begin to shake. My breathing was now louder than the music. I started rocking my hips to compliment his motions. His lips were sending goose-bumps up and down my entire body. Down my spine, over my arms, up my legs, and finally onto my pulsing pussy.

I don't know what triggered him to do it- it was as if he knew my body was now craving his. As if he knew my body was now craving an orgasm, and he pulled his entire length out of me. I laid there still for a moment, and as soon as he slowly inserted himself back inside me, I felt it coming. My body couldn't handle this. Once he was as deep as he could push, he pulled himself out fast, and for the first time ever, my orgasm felt like nothing I've ever felt before. I couldn't moan, I couldn't move. I felt my body just relaxing, and releasing. I squirted. Every where. The sheets were instantly soaked. My thighs, a mess. And as soon as he felt some of the juice from my pussy hit him, he released his first moan into my hair.

He pounded his cock back inside of me hard, and it was no longer about me. His fingers were no longer on my clit, and he grabbed my small waist and began fucking me as hard as he could. He was needing. He pushed himself in and out, very fast, and very aggressively, over and over. I couldn't help myself, and my own fingers instantly starting rubbing my entire exposed pussy as quickly as I could. "Michael, I- I'm gonna cum again!"

He slapped my ass, and while digging his nails into me, he moaned, pulled himself out, and I felt his hot cum hit my ass and lower back. It put me over the edge, and almost instantly, my pussy began spasming again. My legs were shaking, my toes were curling, and my fingers were shaking over my clitoris, forcing the orgasm out of me. I moaned loudly and his hand shoved itself onto my mouth, shutting me up.

We lay in silence. His hand was still tight over my mouth as I tried to catch up with my breathing. He was still. My heart was pounding a mile a minute, my vagina was thanking me, cheering almost! I kept my eyes closed. My mind went over the entire scenario over and over again, some how in only seconds, however. We both squirmed instantly when we heard movement on the floor above us.

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