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I Fucked My Best Friend

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John was a "one of a kind" best friend.

John was my best friend. When Sam and I broke up, it was John who came by and consoled me.

I have known John since middle school. We tried to date each other off and on in high school, but it just wasn’t meant to be. After high school, we lost contact for a few years while we each went our separate ways.

John, I later learned, had dated several girls and even proposed to one, but the relationship fell apart as they got closer to the wedding date. According to John, they argued incessantly about everything, so they both agreed to call off the wedding. John said it broke his heart, but that in the end, he realized the relationship was doomed. His fiancé married another guy within six months of their planned wedding date.

When Sam and I broke up, I called John. I am not sure why, but I figured he knew me as well as anyone. I didn’t know when I called John, that he was on the rebound from his very own broken relationship.

John came by my apartment and I was happy to see a familiar face that I hadn’t seen in several years. We downed a bottle of red wine catching up on our pasts. As we chatted, I realized whey I had called John. He was super cool, easy to talk with and he seemed to really understand my needs on every level.

The wine had loosened both of our inhibitions, to the point that I told John that if he didn’t leave, he would have to spend the night with me.

He smiled, a gentle smile, a smile of understanding, need and wants.

“If I spent the night,” he replied, “I might not ever leave.”

John was brutally honest. I needed his honesty. I also needed a guy who would hold me and make me feel special.

John stood up and made his way to the front door of my apartment as I followed him. He turned and opened his arms in my direction, palms up. I embraced him and could immediately feel a spark of undeniable want filling me. We both lingered in the embrace for probably quite a few seconds too long.

“I better go,” John said. Begrudgingly, I let him go.

I cried myself to sleep that night. I needed a man in the worst way.

The next day, John texted me to make sure I was OK. I assured him I was, even though I wasn’t. I had lost a love that had meant the world to me and I was still hurting. I knew John was still hurting and the last thing either of us needed would be a sexual interlude that we might regret.

I was extremely attracted to John. Not only was he a good close personal friend, but he was physically attractive, with a solid rock-hard body, ripped abs and biceps. With his handsome chiseled good looks, girls could not avoid looking in his direction.

John and I had never had sex, although we came close a couple of times in high school. I knew he had a large cock, because I had felt it on several occasions. Thinking about him only made me want him more and more.

I texted John and asked him if he wanted to go out to dinner.

He readily agreed, setting in motion my plans. I wanted John in the worst way.

I showered and made sure everything down stairs was nice and clean and shaved clean. I slipped into a short, one-piece, backless cocktail dress and some spiked heels. I fished through my drawers for some sexy panties, but then decided- what the heck- I’d just go commando.

As I brushed my hair while checking things out in my dresser mirror, I felt a little self-conscious dressing up so fancy for a date with John. We had been out many times before and I never really “dressed up” for John.

John arrived on time as planned. When I opened my apartment door, his eyes widened.

“Wow!” John exclaimed, “You look really nice.”

I smiled.

“It’s the new me,” I said as I pirouetted slowly in front of John, being careful to not make a fool of myself in my high heels.

“Do I look okay?” I asked.

“Yes,” John replied. “Very nice.”

I looped my arm under his.

“Come on,” I said enthusiastically, “Let’s go have some fun!”

John was a perfect gentleman, walking behind me as I traversed the steps of the stairs to the parking lot. He opened the door on my side of the car. I smiled as my dress rode up high on my legs, providing John with a good view, I was sure, of my thighs.

My dress rode high on my thighs. I attempted to readjust it as I put on the seatbelt, but there wasn’t much I could do, since the dress was intentionally cut short. John glanced at my legs as he got in and put on his own seatbelt.

I took out a pale shade of pink lipstick from a small clutch purse, as John drove us to a steakhouse. I mashed my lips together and asked if things looked OK.

“Perfecto,” John replied.

We valet parked and John walked alongside me as we headed into the restaurant. He provided the maître’d with his name and as we stood and waited for a table, I slipped my hand into John’s. His palms were clammy, and I could tell he was nervous.

I leaned against John and whispered that it felt good to hold his hand, that it made me feel secure. John smiled, and nodded his head, but didn’t say anything.

We shared a bottle of red wine and the dinner was fabulous. We talked about my job and his job and surprisingly, discovered we had some shared interests. The waiter asked if we wanted desert. I declined, looking at John and commenting,

“I think we have our desert already planned.”

John turned about four shades of red, but didn’t say anything.

“So what now?” John casually asked as the waiter sauntered off to get the check. I suggested going back to my place where I could slip into something more comfortable and less fancy.

The waiter brought the check and John provided his credit card. As we made our way out to the valet stand, I developed a sudden sense of fear. I was extremely attracted to John, I wanted him. I need him. But things were progressing fast. I wondered if I was making a mistake. I wondered if John might say “no.” I sure didn’t want or need another rejection.

Settling into the car, I quickly fastened the seat belt. I slipped out of my heels as John settled into the driver’s seat. My dress was barely covering my coochie. I was horny as I could be and was pretty sure John knew it, but he didn’t let on. I locked in on his hands on the steering wheel. I wanted his hand on my leg, but I didn’t have the courage to make the move.

Once we got to my apartment, I asked John to make himself comfortable while I changed clothes. In my bedroom, I shimmied out of my cocktail dress. I brushed my hair, wondering if I was making the right move. I slipped into a satin robe and loosely tied a knot onto the waist rope.

I quietly slipped back out into my living room. John was sitting on the couch, his shoes off and his feet casually propped up on my coffee table. I slipped into the kitchen, grabbed two wine goblets and a bottle of wine from the refrigerator.

I plopped down on the couch next to where John was stationed. I handed John the wine goblets and he sat them on the coffee table in front of the couch. I handed him the bottle of wine and corkscrew. As he worked on opening the wine, I loosened my robe enough to insure John had a clear and unobstructed view of my breasts.

John popped the cork out of the wine bottle and poured us each a goblet full of wine. Turning to hand me a goblet, his eyes locked briefly on to my exposed left breast.

I took a sip from my goblet as John did the same.

“Good stuff,” John commented.

I placed my hand on John’s thigh.

“Yes it is,” I replied, gently running my fingers closer to his crotch.

John grabbed my hand and held on to it.

“I’m not sure,” he began, holding on to my hand, “If we should do this.”

“I am,” I replied.

John looked at me. I could tell he was just as confused as I was.

“Look,” I said, pulling on the tie to my robe, allowing it to open up. “We both have needs. We can’t deny it or them.”

My boobs were now totally exposed. My nipples were strong and erect. I took in a deep breath and forcfeully exhaled.

I took John’s hand in mine and slipped it into the opening of my robe and on to my left breast. He gently massaged my breast, using his fingers to lightly toy with my nipple, as he closed his eyes.

As he gently massaged my breast, I fiddled with his belt buckle, and then unsnapped his trousers. The bulge in his pants could not be denied.

John slipped his hand up to my shoulder, under the satin robe, which quickly fell off my shoulder and into my lap, fully exposing me from the waist up. I untied my robe completely, closing my eyes in the process.

I was melting and melting fast. I needed John’s touches and he knew it.

John quickly stripped out of his shirt.

Oh! My God! He was undeniably well chiseled. I ran my finger across his chest, encircling each of his manly nipples, before zig-zagging my way down to his belly button and lower abdomen. I worked my hand past the waistband of John’s pants and boxer shirts, feeling for his massive tool.

Feeling his cock only made me want him that much more. We both were at a point of no return.

I stood up and allowed my satin robe to fall from me.

John’s eyes were glued to my crotch. I slipped a lone finger along the outside edge of my vagina, before slipping the same finger inside of me as John sat in front of me, his eyes never wavering.

“What do you think?” I whispered.

“I think you definitely need some attention and that Sam, or whatever his name was, really screwed up,” said John.

“His loss is your gain,” I replied, tapping John’s leg and stepping between them. I leaned forward and grabbed the sides of his trousers, and his boxer shorts, stripping them from his slender and chiseled body. John’s ten inch steel rod settled on his lower abdomen.

I knelt between John’s legs and did what I had longed to do for years. I slipped his enlarged tool into my mouth, holding on to it with one hand, working my lips over the length of his massive tool. I took in a deep breath as the tip end of his tool tapped the back of my mouth and the top of my throat.

John closed his eyes as I worked on his tool. He slipped his fingers into my hair and held on to it in a tight fist-like grip. I gently massaged his testicles.

I needed reciprocal attention.

I stood on my couch, my feet planted on either side of John’s waist, my pussy just above John’s face, my hands on John’s head. I parted my pussy lips using my fingers.

“Eat me,” I instructed.

John didn’t need any detailed instructions as this point. He slipped his fingers up to my pussy and began his exploratory search, driving me absolutely crazy in the process. My legs quivered. I collapsed on to my back on the couch. John wasted no time in taking full advantage of my state of delirium. I lost total track of time as he did things to me no other guy had ever done.

I had to beg John to put his ten-inch steel rod into me.

Oh-my-God. He was so thick and hard. He filled me completely up. His pubic bone crashed into mine and that was all it took. The flood gates were now open.

I dug my fingernails into John’s broad shoulders as he pummeled me. He pushed my legs up over his shoulders, and I winced as he jammed his huge cock into my womanhood. After a few minutes more of uncontrolled delirium, John rolled me on to my back. I scrunched my legs up under me, my ass fully exposed.

He bypassed my starfish and jammed his huge cock back into my pussy, pounding away, grunting out loud with every push against me. He grabbed my hips and dug in his fingers as he exploded inside of me. I could feel him cumming. I shuddered, shivered and trembled as he filled me up and his cum ran out of my pussy.

Finally, he pulled out and collapsed on to the couch beside me. I slipped on top of him and we kissed, deeply and passionately. I was hooked, hopelessly hooked.

I don’t know how long we lay there, but at some point, I remember asking him if he wanted to spend the night. He never responded verbally. Instead, he scooped me up in his arms and gently carried me to my bedroom. He laid me down on my bed and then quietly slipped under the covers beside me.

I remember snuggling up next to him and laying my head in the nape of his shoulder, listening to his breathing, which eventually turned into a deep snoring sound. I closed my eyes. I was happy again.

 

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