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Bosom Buddies, Ch 4

"Becoming more than friends with more of his friends"

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Come Monday, there was a spring in my step and a smile on my face. I mean, come on, who wouldn’t be smiling? I even waved good morning to the spider who lived above my locker and just wouldn’t die no matter what I did. As I grabbed a textbook for first period, I heard a voice calling to me:

“Ian, are you okay?”

I spun to see Corrine, looking sexy and radiant as ever in a sleeveless brown t-shirt that pulled enticingly around her enormous chest.

“Yeah, I’m great. Why?”

“You’ve been humming the James Bond song really, really loudly for the last five minutes.”

“I was?”

She flashed me a knowing smile and nodded. I hadn’t even realized I was doing it.

When the six of us met up for lunch, we all came clean about what had happened over the weekend. I, for one, was glad to have everything out in the open. It had been hard enough trying to keep my brief hospital rendezvous with Stephanie a secret; I don’t know how I would have kept mum about all the insanity that had over the weekend.

Amy teasingly told the other girls about how I had come in her hand the moment I saw Corrine’s breasts, but I wasn’t exactly embarrassed given the context of the situation. The real shocker was when Stephanie and Elizabeth told the others about everything that had happened after they all left.

Talia, Corrine, and Amy listened in stunned silence. One by one, they turned to look my way, as if seeing me in a whole new light.

The next two weeks were maybe the best of my young life. Stephanie and I couldn’t get enough of each other’s bodies, stealing every second we could manage for a frantic blowjob or some frenzied, admittedly uncomfortable sex in the back seat of a car. On a couple occasions, Elizabeth joined in on the fun, though unlike Stephanie she had no intention of losing her virginity just yet.

I still remember how Liz’s eyes had practically popped out of her head the first time she saw my shaft disappear inside the folds of her BFF’s pussy. It must have really got her going, because ten seconds later Elizabeth was riding my face in perfect sync with Stephanie’s rhythmic bouncing on my cock. Steph’s slender fingers grabbed hold of her friend’s wild, storm tossed breasts and tweaked those big, super-sensitive nipples while my tongue butterflied on Liz’s clit–and the three of us shared an earth-shattering, simultaneous orgasm.

Despite the fact that Amy had more or less offered to be my sexual tutor the next time her dad was away from home, I didn’t take her up on it. Amy was beautiful beyond words, but I didn’t want to do anything without Stephanie there too. After all, she and I were in love, right?

Right?

Steph and I taught each other a lot in those two weeks, and, as the days zipped by in a haze of excitement and discovery, I let my guard down. I started thinking of Stephanie as mine alone. I should have known better, especially after she and I were so clear about establishing our ground rules at the outset, but I was so damn happy, I just assumed those rules had gone out the window. After all, we’d really had sex! That sure hadn’t been part of the plan.

There was a park near Stephanie’s house where we’d found we could get relative privacy at night. As per our usual routine, we snuck out there, found a nice dark spot away from prying eyes, and laid down in each other’s arms. But as I began kissing her, I noticed that Steph’s heart just wasn’t in it tonight. She kissed me back, but it was robotic; distracted.

I should have stopped right there and asked her what was wrong, but I was too horny to stop. Instead of talking to her, I tried even harder to get Stephanie in the mood, teasing her trigger points with my tongue and fingers. But that just made things worse. After only a few minutes, Stephanie calmly instructed me that she wanted to go home, and so we did.

I did my best to dismiss my rising panic during our quiet walk home: Stephanie isn’t having second thoughts. Things are going great! Why, just last night she was all over me. So she’s in a weird mood tonight, it happens. Nothing to worry about. We’ll talk it through.

The next day, she dumped me. Well, not “dumped” exactly. We had never technically been a real couple. But between first and second period, she met me by my locker and apologized for her cryptic behavior at the park.

“I wanted to tell you something last night, but you were all over me and it just wasn’t the right time.”

My gut clenched. “Tell me what, Steph?”

“Remember how we said we’d have to stop if either of us started dating someone? Well, I never told you, but I’ve always had this really huge crush on Simon Rhee, and yesterday he asked me if I would go out with him.”

My blood ran cold. “What was your answer?”

“I said yes. I know it kind of sucks for you, but I had to say yes. I really like him. Not that I don’t like you, but I LIKE him, you know? Anyway, I don’t think you and I can keep fooling around anymore, it wouldn’t be fair to him.”

But… But…

My eyes felt heavy in their sockets. I think my mouth did some sort of involuntary, sad little twitch.

“No!” Stephanie exclaimed upon seeing my reaction, “Please don’t take it that way! You’ve been perfect to me, you really have! But you and I are just friends, and I want to have a guy in my life who’s more than that.”

“I could be more than that,” I whispered. Stephanie gave me a hug and reluctantly shook her head.

“That’s not how I feel, Ian.”

After a long, deep breath, I assured her I understood completely and wished her well. I even tried to sound like I meant it. I walked to second period in a daze. I wouldn’t say I was heartbroken, or even jealous. I was just defeated. My blissful two weeks with Stephanie suddenly fell into perspective, and I felt empty. Insubstantial. A tasteless wafer of a man. Above all, I felt stupid for letting myself get so caught up in a relationship that I had known from the start entailed nothing deeper than “fooling around” with a friend.

On an emotional level, it was hard to accept that this was the way things were. I mean, Stephanie had let me inside her, literally. I couldn’t help but feel connected to her. And I couldn’t stop picturing the loving look in her eyes as we moved together that first time, our hearts beating like crazy.

Maybe I had just imagined that look. Seen what I wanted to see. Or maybe sex is never as simple as it’s supposed to be.

Between second and third period, Elizabeth reluctantly informed me that Stephanie’s decision meant she too would not be able to do “fun stuff” with me anymore, as it could lead to complicated feelings between her and her BFF. I curtly responded that, even if she was right, it still wasn’t fair to me. None of this was fair to me. Why did things have to change?

Elizabeth looked hurt by my brisk, irritated response, and she left me without a word. I kicked myself for being so short with her when all she wanted was to keep the peace.

I’m not sure why I went to Talia’s house instead of my own after school that day. I guess I subconsciously figured her manic energy would take my mind off my disappointment over Stephanie. Talia’s mom greeted me with her heavy Korean accent and waved me inside, where I headed upstairs into my friend’s bedroom.

Talia had not been expecting company.

She was stretched out on her bed, Crystal Method blasting on full volume while she frantically fingered herself (it was the nineties, remember). Her eyes were scrunched shut in rapture and her back arched rigidly, those perky C-cup breasts heaving beneath a thin silk camisole. She was naked below the waist, revealing her deliciously squeezable ass, a small patch of jet-black pubic hair, and three slender fingers pounding away furiously inside her swollen pink pussy.

I froze—caught—unable to tear my eyes from the explicit sight before me. She was so caught up in her own pleasure, Talia hadn’t even noticed that I was there. She came hard, legs shaking, hand glistening with her own natural lubrication. Still rubbing herself, Talia finally opened her eyes and saw me standing there, staring at her. She yelped in fright, hurriedly covering up with a sheet.

“I’m sorry!” I blurted out, “I just wanted to hang out. I didn’t know you’d be—uh—like that.”

Talia turned bright red and shouted for me to shut the door. A second later she opened it back up, now dressed in a tiny pair of pajama shorts that barely covered her ass. Modesty was relative where Talia was concerned.

“Well, that was embarrassing,” she giggled, giving me a quick hug to show there were no hard feelings. “I could have sworn I locked my door. I haven’t been myself, these last few weeks. Ever since I realized that I—” she dropped her voice to a whisper, “that I liked girls too, I haven’t been able to stop getting myself off. It’s like this dam burst inside me, and all these forbidden fantasies I never allowed myself to have are just hitting me left and right. Me with a woman, or women, or me with a man and a woman, or with men and women… I think I need to be institutionalized! It’s unreal. I can barely make it through a whole class at school. I’ve been sneaking off to the bathroom to get myself off just so I can pay attention. I’ve never been this horny for this long.”

“Wow,” I answered, the thoughts of Talia’s constant masturbation doing nothing to bring down the erection that had sprung up in my pants over the last few minutes.

“I’m kind of getting worried, actually. Like, is there an end in sight? Because I can’t stop. I hope I’m not doing any permanent damage by over stimulating myself or whatever.”

I shrugged and jokingly suggested she just needed to get laid before she went completely insane. Talia suddenly broke into a big, shit-eating grin and asked, “Do you think I could maybe join in sometime with you and Steph and Liz? I know they’re not bi, but—Wow, Talia, inappropriate much? I’m sorry Ian, stupid question. But do you think they might go for it? Like, maybe if I just watched? Or touched them a little? I really want to touch another girl. Stephanie touches Elizabeth sometimes, right?”

My face fell at the mention of Steph’s name. Talia prodded me for an explanation until I finally just blurted it all out, confessing how Stephanie had moved on to another boy while I had stupidly convinced myself that what we’d had was real.

Talia immediately calmed down. She pulled me into a hug and sighed, “Of course it was real, silly. Sure, it didn’t end in marriage, or even happily ever after, but it was real all the same.”

I shook my head, grumbling, “I’m just her friend. I don’t mean anything to her.”

“How can you say that? Stephanie adores you! She chose you to be her first lover!” I felt my eyes turn heavy in their sockets again, but Talia just hugged me tighter, her voice soothing: “There’s not one particular ‘real’ type of love that makes everything else meaningless, you know. There are all kinds of love, Ian. I mean, look at me! Turns out I’m into everybody. I don’t think any two people in history have ever shared the same kind of love. The five of us are your friends, but that doesn’t mean we’re ‘just’ your friends. We all love you, in our own ways.”

Warmth radiated from Talia’s arms, wrapped around my chest. I looked down into her incredible, exotic eyes as she continued, “You made her happy, Ian. And she made you happy. That’s what matters.”

Without thinking, I kissed her. Talia recoiled in surprise, but kissed me back, nonetheless. I quickly pulled away, shaking my head clear.

“I’m sorry,” I stammered, “It’s just been kind of a rollercoaster. I don’t know if I’m going down or up right now.”

She swallowed, holding my gaze. “Maybe you should do it again.”

I hesitated, unsure of my feelings. A pang of loyalty to Stephanie rose up inside me, but with it came a grudging admission that she and I were over.

And Talia was so damn beautiful.

Our eyes locked, and some magnetic force pulled our lips back together. Talia wrapped her arms even tighter around me and we fell onto our sides, splayed across her bed in a mutual embrace. We kissed for over an hour, unhurried. Our kisses weren’t really even sexual in nature. It was just a tender exchange of mutual affection. Reaffirmation. As Talia said, exactly what we’d both needed. Talia was able to take her mind off those unrelenting sexual fantasies, and I finally felt like solid matter again. Flesh and blood with a heartbeat.

Then, at some point, I realized I had started unconsciously caressing her luscious ass through her PJs. Talia cooed from the attention, hooking one of her long, bare legs up over my hip so that our crotches were pressed directly together. The heat emanating between her legs was so intense I could actually feel the warmth through the denim of my jeans.

Hooking that leg over me also forced the hem of her tiny little PJ shorts to ride even further up, almost to the crack of her ass. I was suddenly groping smooth bare skin, and I allowed my hand to travel lower and lower as I squeezed, until my pinky finger could just feel the edge of her wetness.

“Mmm…” Talia teased her fingertips along the waistband of my jeans. “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable without these?” I felt myself nod, though I don’t remember consciously deciding to do so. The experience had turned surreal. This is Talia! I thought to myself, in disbelief. You’re actually doing this with Talia! I had fantasized about my stunningly exotic friend so many times I couldn’t even fathom.

Briefly, I flashed back to our first encounter, all those months ago, when she had landed on me in the hammock and passed out mid-kiss. But the two people in her bed right now were not the same two people from that night. She no longer saw me as a pitiable, unfuckable virgin, and I no longer saw her as an untouchable goddess on a pedestal. We had been through so much together, shared so many experiences; we meant so much to each other. She might never be my girlfriend, but in our own singular way, we loved each other.

I reminded myself to breathe.

The house was quiet. I could hear nothing but the faint hum of the TV show her parents were watching downstairs, the heavy sound of Talia’s and my collective breathing, and the metallic unbuckling of my belt.

Her dark eyes stayed locked with mine as I felt trembling fingers lower my zipper and reach inside to grasp my hardness. She slowly and gently pumped her hand up and down my shaft, feeling the reassuring thickness against her palm.

I smiled at the palpable arousal I saw in her beautiful eyes, holding her gaze as I let my own fingers travel up beneath the silk of her camisole. I knew where I wanted to go, but I was in no hurry to get there just yet. I teasingly swirled a fingertip around Talia’s bellybutton, staggering her breath, barely making contact as I brushed my hands along her flat, toned midriff, up past her slim little waist, and then higher still—feeling along the faint indentations of her ribs.

Talia’s erotic panting quickened with desire the closer my hand got to her breasts, but I took that as my cue to slow things down. I moved my hand slower and slower—wanting so badly to fondle her breasts, but wanting even more to drag out the thrill of anticipation. Finally, achingly, I felt the give of her soft flesh against my fingertips as I came in contact with the underside of her fabulous rack.

The gentle pumping motion of her hand on my erection increased, silently demanding that I go further. She teasingly bit down on the side of my neck as I grazed my palm across one of her diamond-hard nipples.

That was about all the anticipation poor Talia could take. She took her hand off my cock and impatiently tugged my pants and boxers down past my knees. She wiggled out of her brief little PJ shorts and kicked them across the room.

Again she hooked a slender leg up over my hip, and again our crotches pressed up against each other—but this time we were both totally naked from the waist down. Her soft wetness burned maddeningly against my skin. Talia reached down between us, taking my cock in hand and angling it towards her opening.

Then my tip slipped inside the heaven of her body.

I pushed into her slowly, quietly savoring the sensation as I penetrated deeper and deeper. Talia let out a long, ecstatic sigh as I filled her up. Our faces pressed together, kissing sweetly. Electricity arced between us as her tongue played along the inside of my lips.

As we rocked together, the bedsprings began their rhythmic squeaking. I moaned audibly, prompting Talia to place a trembling finger to my lips: “Shhh,” she whispered. “My parents are downstairs.”

I nodded, silencing our mutual pleasure by pressing my lips to hers as I withdrew my length all the way to the tip, then gently slid it back inside. Without realizing it, our breathing had synced up with our slow, sensual lovemaking: breathe in as I pulled out, breathe out as I pushed in.

I whispered in her ear, “I wanna see your tits.”

Wearing a coy smile on her face, Talia rolled on top of me and teasingly lifted her camisole up above her midriff, stopping just short of showing me the goods. I urgently bucked my hips up into her, salivating at the prospect of what she was about to do.

With an agonizing slowness, Talia raised the silk fabric above her bust, allowing first one, and then the other of those firm, healthy tits to drop down into view with an erotic bounce. Her breasts were incredible; full, round, and impossibly perky. The perfect little nubs of her nipples poked out and screamed for attention.

My eyes went wide, drinking in the vision straddling my cock. Talia grinned at my reaction to her nude body, playfully biting down on the fabric of her camisole to hold it in place while we fucked. She rocked her hips from side to side like a hula dancer, purring as my cock stimulated new regions of her body.

I held her ass firmly with both hands and we gradually increased our pace—Talia lifting herself up and me pulling her powerfully back down onto my dick again and again. We grew frantic; her boobs bouncing crazily with each wanton thrust until they became a blur of flesh before my eyes.

Talia’s fingers latched onto my hair for stability, pulling roughly while her lithe little hips slammed down against me. I felt my balls tighten with anticipation and I sat up, still holding her ass as I inhaled one of those generous tits into my mouth.

Our fucking increased to blinding speed, Talia’s thighs gripping me like a vice. Her other, unattended breast kept bouncing, softly slapping against my cheek with each thrust. Talia grabbed onto her errant boob and mashed it against the side of my face as I sucked on its twin—

I blasted my load up inside her.

“God!” she shrieked, throwing her head back in ecstasy as her own orgasm overwhelmed her. I released her tit from my mouth and let my exhausted head collapse against the pillow of her breasts. We sat there for several minutes, catching our breath with my deflating member still inside her.

It was a huge relief, both physically and emotionally. The phrase “that hit the spot” popped into my head. As I sat there on her bed, feeling the creamy skin of her breasts against my face and the machine-gun heartbeat pulsing within her chest, I felt healed. I was a man again.

Talia’s pussy clenched around me a final time and she went completely limp in my arms.

“You didn’t pass out on me again, right?” I jokingly whispered. Talia just giggled and smacked me on the shoulder.

Suddenly, we heard footsteps on the stairs outside and, with supernatural speed and agility, we both somehow managed to get fully dressed and engrossed in our AP biology books by the time Talia’s mom opened the bedroom door to bid us goodnight. Soon as the door was closed, we both burst out laughing and couldn’t stop for the rest of the night.

Though the sex had been incredible, post orgasm neither Talia nor I were feeling particularly lovey-dovey. We had been there for each other during a frustrating, confusing time, but we both knew we simply were not relationship material for each other, and that was perfectly fine.

I’d felt nothing resembling the avalanche of emotions I’d experienced after my first time with Stephanie, just a sense of overwhelming relief and a transcendent physical pleasure. A different kind of love, I suppose. Talia and I finished the night as “friends,” but not necessarily “just friends,” watching Buffy The Vampire Slayer of all things and study-buddying for our APs.

It wasn’t exactly fun seeing Stephanie at school the next day, but I had made my peace with the situation. I didn’t really know what to say to her, so things were unusually “polite” when we bumped into each other between first and second period. We acted like two people who barely knew each other.

Between second and third period, Stephanie went out of her way to make sure we crossed paths again. I could see the deep worry on her face as she pulled me in for a frantic hug, words of contrition tripping over each other as they fell from her mouth:

“I couldn’t sleep last night, I felt so bad about how I treated you yesterday. There must have been a million better ways to say what I said, but I just blurted it all out like some heartless bitch.”

“Steph—” I interjected.

“No, just let me finish! I’m trying to say I really, really screwed up, and I wish I hadn’t. I never expected things to get so confusing. I can’t stand the thought of this ruining our friendship, or whatever it is we have now. It’s true, I don’t like you in the same way I like Simon, but you still mean more to me than he does. If it’ll make things ok between us again, I’ll break things off with him. I will, I promise.”

“It’s okay, Steph, I don’t want you to do that. You didn’t do anything wrong, I did. Everything’s been changing so fast, I lost perspective on reality for a bit. I talked with Talia last night, and she kind of put my brain on track again.”

Steph let out a huge sigh of relief, thanking me for being so understanding. We both checked our watches; passing period only lasted five minutes and we were running out of time. “I know what you mean about things happening too fast,” she finally added, “I feel like most couples spend months and months slowly working their way up to having sex. We jumped in the deep end with no idea how to swim.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t ready for how that first time would feel. Still, I’m glad it was with you.”

“You too,” she sighed, giving me a quick, sweet kiss on the lips. I knew that little kiss was probably the last she and I would ever share. “You made my first time perfect,” she said.

As we both hurried off to our next classes, I told myself that this was going to be okay. Simon Rhee was a good enough guy, and I knew he would treat my Stephanie like a princess.

Wait—I thought—rephrase: she isn’t “my Stephanie” anymore. Just “Stephanie.”

During lunch, Talia and I revealed to the others that we had hooked up. Most of the other girls shrugged it off as “one of those things,” but Stephanie got very quiet.

“You okay, Steph?” Talia asked, genuinely concerned. “Are you mad at us?”

“No! Of course not,” was the reply. But she faltered, reluctantly correcting her response to, “I guess maybe I’m a little mad. A little jealous. But I’ll be okay. I’ve got no right to be, I just wasn’t… expecting it.”

I draped an arm across her shoulders and her eyes turned pink. I promised her, “I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I just needed some—uh, well, I just needed some.”

Talia blushed, adding, “Me too.”

For a long time, Stephanie didn’t make a sound. My insides tied in knots. Then she finally smiled and said, “You know, it’s weird, but part of me is actually relieved? I was carrying around all this guilt about breaking things off with you, so it’s sort of a weight off my shoulders. I’ll be okay.”

I thought that would be the end of the fallout from my sexy evening with Talia, but there was one more moment, later that day, that really threw me for a loop. When Amy and I finished our after-school run, my hot redheaded buddy gave me a congratulatory pat on the back and whispered, “Two down, three to go, stud.”

“Hold on—What?”

“First Stephanie, now Talia. Two down, three to go.”

“It’s not like that,” I insisted.

Amy just laughed, “What do you mean, ‘it’s not like that?’ You expect me to believe you don’t dream about fucking each and every one of us? I bet you jerk off thinking about one of us every single night.”

No! I thought. Well, technically yes, but—

I wasn’t going to stand for Amy’s insinuation. I looked her dead in the eyes and said, “I do dream about you. Every single night since I’ve known you girls. And not just one at a time, either. I imagine myself fucking every combination of threesome, foursome, fivesome, or even fucking all of you at the same time. I dream of fucking you in the swimming pool, in the girls’ locker room, in the great outdoors, and in the far reaches of space.”

“Would you, could you, on a boat?” she joked, “Would you, could you, with a goat?”

“Exactly. Well, maybe not with a goat. But, pathetic and perverted as I may be, I have never, NEVER thought of you girls as a damn checklist. You’re my best friends, and when I say it’s not like that, I mean it’s just not like that.”

Amy was a hard person to ruffle. Even when she was genuinely upset, she typically just covered it up with bravado or sarcasm. But somehow, my little speech had struck an unexpected cord and shaken her. It took Amy a second to pull her thoughts together.

“You’re a weird guy, Ian.”

I shrugged, knowing it was Amy’s version of a compliment. She thought hard about something for a second, then it was her turn to look me dead in the eyes as she added, “I’m gonna fuck you, someday. I don’t know when, exactly, and neither will you. But I promise you, one of these days I am gonna blow your fucking mind.”

For a moment, I felt small and timid in the face of what she had just said. Amy was aggressive, adventurous, and way more experienced than I was. Plus her lithe dancer’s body was a scorching fireball of hotness. My throat tightened and my tongue froze up—

But only for a moment. I recalled the look on Amy’s face when I’d made her come underneath that towel a few weeks earlier, and felt a sudden surge of confidence. Maybe I would blow her mind as well.

“You’re on,” I answered.

They say a watched pot never boils, but I was watching that damn pot for over a week, and I gotta say, I got pretty close to boiling over. Every time Amy made eye contact with me, I held my breath in anticipation. Was today the day?

Nope. I guess today was just Tuesday. Dammit! Sometimes, she would be able to guess what I was thinking, and in those cases, her response was always the same: “Not yet, stud. Not today.”

Looking back, I should really thank Amy for taking my mind off having to see Stephanie and Simon Rhee holding hands everywhere I went.

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Though I admit this grudgingly, I could see why Stephanie liked him so much.

Having moved to the United States three years earlier, the then 15-year-old Simon had been friendless and alone in a country where he hadn’t exactly mastered the language. Maybe because of that, he developed a sweet-natured, soft-spoken personality, almost like a male version of Elizabeth (which maybe explained why he was such a good fit for Stephanie). He had a swimmer’s build, with impressive muscle tone I was a bit jealous of, and that triangular shaped torso you only get from a lifetime in the water. He was also tall for an Asian dude, maybe an inch or so shorter than my 5’11”.

More than once, I overheard the girls giggling about how much they were looking forward to Spring Break, and getting to see a lot more of Simon in his speedo.

Much as I resented Simon for infringing upon the perfect little social utopia I had with my girls, I just couldn’t dislike the guy. He was one of those rare people who is genuinely nice to everyone. The fact that he and I had pretty much the exact same taste in video games didn’t exactly hurt his cause, either.

In the months I had known them, my girls had dated plenty of guys; some were assholes, some were awesome, but nobody before Simon had clicked with the rest of us. Our group of six became a group of seven. I watched with a mixture of jealousy and pity as shy, sweet Simon tried to survive the same gauntlet of flirting and teasing I had endured during the early months of my friendship with the girls. Stephanie protectively kept some of her friends’ more overt behavior at bay, but there was nothing she could do to keep her man’s eyes from wandering to Corrine’s expansive, swaying bosom every time the stacked Nordic babe so much as leaned over.

One time, when we were all hanging out at Stephanie’s, Corrine showed up dressed in a little pink knit vest meant for a much shorter woman. At nearly six feet tall and wearing literally nothing else on her chest, Corrine looked positively ridiculous. The garment pulled so tightly around her breasts that the knit stretched loose, hinting at the luscious skin and pink nipples beneath. Corrine’s height also essentially transformed it into a belly shirt, and its plunging scoop neck revealed an obscene amount of mouthwatering cleavage.

Amy burst out laughing at the sight. “Oh my God, Cor, that’s hilarious! Whose is that?”

“Mine,” Corrine answered, grinning naughtily at our combined reactions. “From about six years ago. I found it in the attic.”

I could think of nothing I wanted to do more than to rip that vest off with my bare hands and ravage Corrine’s impossibly fine body, smothering my face with her huge tits.

Stephanie teasingly prodded her utterly stunned boyfriend, “What do you think of Corrine’s outfit, honey?”

“Uh!” Simon jumped a bit, fumbling to respond, “I think it looks…”

He just trailed off, unable to tear his eyes away from her rack. We all cracked up at Simon’s non-response, and the guy turned a deep scarlet, profusely apologizing to both Corrine and Stephanie. Old pro that I was, I took him aside a bit later and assured him, man-to-man, that this kind of thing was just a form of hazing for any guy that wanted to be friends with these girls.

“It will be both the best, and the worst thing in your life.”

Simon just nodded, still embarrassed.

Elizabeth came over to me after Simon had rejoined the others. Ever since the night of our first threesome with Stephanie, Liz had started dressing a lot less modestly. Today she was wearing a sparkling purple top with spaghetti straps and a plunging neckline. Her cleavage looked fantastic.

“Giving the new guy some pointers on how to survive all the teasing?” she asked.

“Yeah, though I think he’ll have an easier time of it than I did, what with Stephanie to take out his frustrations on.”

Elizabeth gave me a funny look, then pressed: “Has Stephanie not told you?”

“Told me what?”

Elizabeth hesitated, but ultimately decided I deserved to know: “She’s not sleeping with Simon. She wants to wait for prom night. Until then, she’s not gonna let him get any further than making out with her and maybe feeling her boobs.”

Steph had been such a nymphomaniac during our two weeks together, I couldn’t believe it. All my jealousy towards Simon suddenly evaporated and was replaced with a swell of sympathy. To actually have a girl like Stephanie, but not be able to do anything sexual with her? Prom was still two months away! By then, I was sure Steph would have poor this guy so wound up, he wouldn’t last more than two seconds.

“Why not?” I asked.

Elizabeth took my hand in hers, and quietly answered, “I think she’s still getting over you.”

I rolled my eyes. “Getting over me? Come on, that doesn’t even make sense, Liz. I was the one that got dumped!”

“That’s because she’s liked Simon since forever. She wants to be with him, but just wanting to be with someone new doesn’t mean she doesn’t miss being with you. I know I do.”

Her gaze trailed down my body, and I saw the physical longing in her eyes; saw her flashing back to the handful of hot nights the two of us had shared with Stephanie. I took a step towards Elizabeth, comfortably draping my arms around her waist. She had to lean back to look up at me, unconsciously lifting those spellbinding tits of hers up towards my face.

“You know, you and I don’t have to miss that stuff,” I whispered back.

But she held her ground: “Yes we do. Until Stephanie has really fully moved on, we do. Or people will get hurt.”

I nodded, reluctantly letting her go, wryly thinking to myself that someone was already getting hurt—a certain part of my anatomy was hurting very, very much, thank you.

That night, under the admittedly false pretenses of needing help with some homework, I lured Talia up to my room. Soon as we were alone, it took her all of five seconds to deduce what my real intentions were.

“I’m sorry,” she sighed, “but I think I’ve decided that the next person I’m gonna be with needs to be a girl.”

“But—but—I thought we had a really good time together last week!”

“We did! And you helped me shake off all that horrible tension! It was keeping me so wound up, I couldn’t even think for two seconds about what it was I really wanted. This whole bisexuality thing is a huge deal to me, and I need to go for it. The easy thing would be for me to just ignore it for now and go back to dating guys like I always did—but then I don’t know if I’ll ever have the guts to really try it out. And even if I do pursue it in college or whatever, it would be way too easy to just never tell my parents, which would be awful on all kinds of levels.”

I guess I understood, but sometimes it sucks being the understanding one. When Talia left I was still so horny I wanted to die. The frustration had become unbearable. After a lifetime with almost no sexual experience, I had suddenly and without warning stepped into a world of never-ending arousal and no less than four gorgeous sexual partners in the space of a month. For a few weeks, I had gotten constant sex, and then it all just went away. Now that I knew what I had been missing all those years, it was torture to go without.

My dreams that night were an all-out assault of sexual imagery:

I saw Amy on all fours, her blazing red hair matted against sweaty skin, glancing back over her shoulder at me while her perfect ass beckoned. A single moist teardrop of arousal dripping from her cunt, down her inner thigh…

“I am gonna fuck you,” she purred.

I stalked towards her, my aching, turgid member leading the way. I grabbed hold of her round, firm buttocks and, without preamble, thrust myself inside her from behind, pounding away furiously—doggie-style—the bare breasts I had long imagined swinging crazily as we fucked.

I reached forward to cup those beautiful tits and caught a whiff of Talia’s perfume. Somehow, I was now inside Talia! I released one of her breasts and grabbed a handful of long, raven hair, pulling that exotic face back towards me for a fierce, angry kiss. My hips slapped loudly against her juicy ass—

We rolled over, never pulling our lips from each other. She was on top of me now, riding me cowgirl, and the impressive tits bouncing against my chest were definitely bigger than Talia’s. I looked into the face of my lover—now Stephanie—her eyes scrunched shut in pleasure as she moaned through the early stages of orgasm.

She threw her head back in ecstasy, presenting those beautiful breasts to my hungry eyes. I reached forward, squeezing them for all I was worth, watching the soft bounty of flesh overflow between my fingers—

My lover suddenly lowered her delicious breasts over my pole, looking up at me with Elizabeth’s emerald eyes. Those angelic eyes sparkled lovingly as she squeezed her tits around my cock and gave me a world-class titfuck, playfully licking my cockhead on each downward stroke as it burst out the top of her amazing cleavage—

Then she was Corrine, laying on her back, and I was straddling her chest. She grabbed her own unbelievably large, oiled tits and squeezed them together. I rudely shoved my cock into the cleave of that ripe, mountainous bosom, watched it completely disappear from sight with each thrust—felt the weight of my balls sliding across her chest—

My lover’s unprovoked orgasm exploded in my mind like a kaleidoscope: Corrine screamed in pleasure. Talia screamed in pleasure. Amy screamed in pleasure. Stephanie screamed in pleasure. And Elizabeth screamed out my name.

“Agh!” I awoke with a cry, filling my boxers with hot, bubbling cum.

I got virtually no sleep that night. The next day at school I could hardly focus on anything. I barely spoke. I was a zombie in class. It felt like my body had rerouted so much blood to my cock that I was operating solely on my reptile brain: EAT. SLEEP. PROCREATE.

After school, I trailed behind Amy on our run, ragged with arousal. We finally came to a stop, the exercise doing nothing to calm me down. Why the hell did she have to wear a sports bra when we went running? Why couldn’t she wear a parka or a cardboard box? Her nipples stared me in the face through the thin material.

“Are you busy the rest of the day?” she asked casually.

I swallowed. Was this going to be the day, at long last, when she followed through on her promise to blow my mind? I had a huge paper due the next day, but who cared?

“Nah, not really,” I answered.

“Well, then maybe you could help me out with something. I guarantee you’ll like it a whole lot.”

That sounded promising. I shrugged, trying to disguise my absolute eagerness to follow her home. We got changed and started walking.

“So,” I asked, “does this mean your dad is working the night shift again?”

“No, he’s home.”

I scratched my head for a moment, still operating off my reptile brain. “Then… we’re not going to your house?”

“No,” she answered matter-of-factly, “we’re going to the mall.”

Oh. Lame.

But it turned out not to be quite as lame as I had feared. Amy explained that, with Spring Break almost upon us, she wanted to buy a sexy new swimsuit to wear to the beach.

“I got the idea in my head when you had that pool party last month, and every girl but me had a fun suit to wear. I’ve always worn my swim team uniform as a matter of principal, I guess. You know, declaring to the world, ‘I’m a jock, and I’m proud of it!’ But this year I want to try something different. I want to wear something that makes all the boys at the beach sit up and go ‘Whoa!’”

“And you want my advice?”

“Well, more like your reaction. You are a boy.”

It was true. I was a boy. I had a painful reminder of the fact between my legs at that very moment.

The local mall had a special shop that catered to expensive women’s swimwear, and Amy made an immediate beeline for them. As I watched her pick up various skimpy pieces of fabric to try on, I couldn’t help but salivate at the prospect of what I was about to see. Some of those swimsuits were made with less material than my shoelaces.

When Amy was finally satisfied with her selection, we hurried back to the secluded area with the changing rooms—

But a stern-faced young woman stopped me from following my friend. “I’m sorry sir, no men allowed past here.”

Amy wasn’t gonna take any of that. She angrily placed her hands on her hips and got up in the woman’s face:

“Listen, lady, these swimsuits are ridiculously expensive, and I need my friend’s input on which one I look best in. You let him through, and I’ll buy something. You keep being a pain, and you’ve just lost yourself a sale.”

The woman glared intensely at Amy for about thirty seconds, then just gave up and wandered over to a customer on the other side of the store, pointedly not looking at us.

We hurried inside the changing room area.

I fidgeted nervously, painfully aware of the cock trapped in my jeans as I watched Amy disappear into one of the changing stalls. Below the partition, I could see her pants drop down to the floor around her ankles, and a cute little pair of women’s briefs follow suit. Amy stepped away from her discarded clothes, still wearing her socks.

My eyes flicked briefly over to the sign politely requesting that all women wear panties underneath the swimsuits they tried on, but hell if I was gonna point it out to Amy.

I watched as Amy’s feet shifted position on the floor, clearly posing in front of the stall mirror in such a way that she could critique her impossibly perfect ass. I fought the urge to pull open the door and stare.

A second later, I watched her arms lift above the partition, tugging her shirt up over her head to be cast down to the floor beside her pants. I heard the distinctive snap as she undid her bra and watched as it too hit the floor at her feet. Inside that stall, Amy was buck naked except for those white cotton socks. Why was it that those socks made my mental image of her somehow sexier?

If I wasn’t in public, I probably would have started touching myself right there. I was going crazy just imagining what was on the other side of that feeble changing room door—

It swung open and Amy smiled, looking proud and powerful in a sleek, electric blue two-piece. The fabric was not traditional swimsuit fabric, but some sort of stretchy rubber that gripped at her skin and clung to her tits. It was thick enough material that she looked a full cup-size larger than she really was, a factor which got me drooling from the get-go.

“What’s the ‘Whoa factor’ on this one?” she asked.

I gestured for her to spin around.

Clearly getting a kick out of her little exhibitionist display, Amy turned to show off her derriere, which did a very nice job filling out that stretchy blue fabric. I couldn’t help but admire the sculpt of her athletic body—the way her shapely legs flared out to that tight round ass, and then immediately curved back in to her tiny waist and toned midriff.

“Whoa factor is ten out of ten.”

She pouted at my response. “You can’t start with ten! You’ll have nowhere to go if the other suits are better!”

“I call it like I see it. You look gorgeous.”

With a tsk-tsk, Amy shut the door again and left me to imagine her beautiful lithe body once again stripping naked of everything but those silly socks. An eternity later, she opened the door.

I felt my knees go weak.

Her next choice was basically a dark green piece of dental floss. Her soft breasts swelled out in all directions around x-rated triangles of fabric, covered more by the wildfire hair flowing down off her shoulders than by the bathing suit itself. My eyes ran a marathon down her entire exposed midriff, past her sexy navel, all the way to the two square inches of fabric that covered her pussy. The smooth-shaven skin where her pubic hair was supposed to be was completely exposed, and somehow the sight of that exposed bare skin was the sexiest part of all.

“Holy shit, Amy! Twelve out of ten! Twelve!”

I must have made a really ridiculous face because Amy got this huge, shit-eating grin upon seeing my reaction and couldn’t stop laughing. I gestured for her to turn around and show me the back, but she shook her head. I sighed with mock frustration—

“How am I supposed to make an informed decision without seeing your ass?”

“You already said twelve!”

“Pshh, that was just a preliminary estimate. Once I see your ass it might go up to thirteen.”

She giggled, refusing to budge. “I am NOT getting this suit, Ian. It’s way too small! I want to look sexy, not like a fucking clown.”

“Show me how your butt looks!”

“My butt just looks like a butt, it’s completely exposed.”

I playfully torqued my head to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of her ass in the stall’s mirror—but before I could really take it in she slammed the door shut again.

“Bad boy!” she called from the other side.

If the last swimsuit had been too small, the next suit was too big. It was an uber-sexy silver one-piece, with huge holes cut in the sides exposing everything from her bare hips to the sides of her large breasts. The neckline went all the way up to her throat, where it tied around her neck with a black choker.

“Twenty out of ten,” I stammered.

Amy was starting to really enjoy my reactions. “Really?” she teased. “You like this one better? Why is that? Is it because the fabric is so loose around my boobs that they practically spill out every time I do this—“

She leaned forward, letting her loose-fitting swimsuit droop until I could see almost her entire breast through the window cut into the side. My eyes glazed over with lust, and the easy humor of our situation dropped from my mind. I was no longer just ogling my sexy friend as she tried on swimsuits, I was sizing up a body I was determined to fuck.

Amy must have picked up on my change in attitude, because she quickly straightened back up, breasts jiggling from the motion. “What are you thinking about right now?” she teased.

I don’t know where it came from, but I responded, “Honestly? I’m thinking about walking up to you, reaching my hands inside those big holes some genius cut in the sides of your suit, and grabbing hold of your tits.”

Amy’s nipples grew visibly rigid beneath her suit. My frustration was really turning her on.

“You mean like this?”

She sensuously slid her hands up her sides, trailing her own slender fingers across the exposed sides of her breasts, then she darted those fingers beneath the fabric of her suit, cupping the full weight of her tits. I couldn’t take this much longer—

“I’m not getting this one, either, it’s way too big.”

Somehow I suspected Amy had chosen those last two suits knowing they would look exactly the way they did, but I kept silent as she shut the door yet again and went back to work getting herself naked.

Seriously, how angry would she really be if I just opened that door right now and got a good look at the body she had been teasing me with all these months? The same body I had once felt stretched out naked on top of me while I had my fingers inside her. The body I had glimpsed that one time she and I had masturbated in bed together, and she had hopped out to change her underwear. The body she had promised to show me and share with me, the body I had fantasized about every single day when we went running—

Don’t be a creep, Ian. She’ll let you know when she’s ready.

As soon as Amy opened the changing room door, I stepped inside there with her.

This time she was wearing a pastel purple tie-on bikini that, combined with her fiery red hair, made it impossible for me not to think about the two little seashells covering the breasts of The Little Mermaid. The naughty contrast between Amy’s incredible, fuck-worthy body and her bikini’s association with that innocent children’s movie put my urges over the top.

I grunted with desire as I closed the distance between us. Amy stopped my advance by placing her palm on the crotch of my jeans, testing the hardness beneath.

“Now THAT’s the reaction I was hoping for,” she laughed.

I shut the changing room door behind me, crowding our bodies together in the cramped space. Amy’s eyes twinkled mischievously as she realized my intent:

“Just what do you think you’re doing?”

I kept advancing. Amy reflexively took a step back, her ass bumping against the mirror. My hands found her hips, fingers toying with the single, loose knot holding up her suit. Her own fingers dropped to my wrists, teasing across the backs of my hands. Her hot, naughty smile unmistakable—

“Today’s the day,” I said simply, then I tugged loose the tie on her skimpy little bottoms and watched them drop to the floor.

Amy looked into my eyes as I stared at her beautiful bald pussy, playing my fingers across the smooth skin. Over her shoulder, I caught her reflection in the mirror; saw the exceptional bare butt I had lusted after for so long. I hungrily reached behind her and squeezed, watching the reflection as my hands—my own hands and no one else’s—grabbed hold of her body and explored.

Amy leaned into me, enjoying all the attention. I felt her tongue graze my earlobe as she whispered, “But someone’s gonna hear us!”

“And your dirty, exhibitionist mind is gonna love every second of it.”

I impatiently yanked aside her delicate bikini top, freeing a pair of gorgeous, healthy tits. The small piece of purple fabric still hung from her neck, resting limply atop her full beasts. I drank in the sight of her incredibly body in its entirety: from the stunning red hair on her head to the white cotton socks on her feet. Every inch of this woman radiated sex.

I pushed her back, sandwiching Amy between my body and the changing room wall as I crashed my mouth down upon hers. Her sweet tongue wrestled in my mouth for a moment, then she gently bit down on my lower lip and gave it a tug.

Holy shit, I was hard.

“Mmm… took you long enough,” she teased.

“Took ME long enough?” I snarled, forcibly spinning her around so that her ass pressed into my crotch. I reached around and roughly palmed her breasts. “You’ve been keeping me on a fucking hook! What day were you planning on making good on your promise to fuck me, anyway?”

I jabbed my fingers down and furiously rubbed at her soaking wet clit. Grinning devilishly, Amy wiggled her hips, grinding that bare ass against my jeans.

“I was waiting—ooh, yes—waiting for the day you finally took the initiative, dumbass! Some girls want their man to take charge, you know.”

But-! But-! Aw, fuck it.

We were here now, trapped in this ridiculous little room, and we weren’t going anywhere until I had good and truly fucked that tight body of hers. I pushed Amy against the mirror long enough to drop my jeans and boxers to the floor, then I pulled her right back against me, thrilling at the feel of my naked cock resting in the warm cleft of her dancer’s ass. I pushed my hips back and forth, stimulating my shaft between the globes of her butt while I bit down on her shoulder—hard.

“I love your fucking body so fucking much,” I breathed in her ear. Where had that come from? It was like another guy’s voice was coming out of my mouth. I never talked that way to the other girls.

“What do you love about my body? I want you to tell me.” Her breath fogged the mirror as she spoke.

“I love your hair,” I gave her hair a quick yank, eliciting an excited shriek. “I love your face, and your neck…“

Her breath caught as my teeth gently grazed the vulnerable skin of her throat. My hands traveled down her body as I continued, “I love all these little freckles on your tits, I love the way your nipples feel between my fingers…”

“Mmm!” she moaned. I gave those nipples a sudden tug, and Amy spun back to face me, pulling my lips to hers for a fiery kiss that left us both gasping for air. Our bodies mashed together as we kissed, sandwiching the full length of my cock against her toned stomach. She frantically yanked the shirt over my head and planted a dozen sloppy kisses across my naked chest.

“I love your perfect ass,” I went on. “You’ve got the greatest ass in all creation.”

“Aw,” she stammered between kisses, “That’s—so—sweet—”

She bit down on my nipple. Wow.

“But what about this?”

She pulled my hand up between her legs, against the smooth, slippery folds of her clean-shaven pussy.

“That I cannot wait to get my mouth on.”

“Your mouth? Who said anything about your mouth?” She clenched her fist around my painfully hard shaft. “I want this.”

I just nodded in agreement.

With a display of flexibility that practically made me come right then and there, she lifted one of her perfectly sculpted legs straight up and rested an adorable, sock-covered ankle on my shoulder. She then wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled herself up into the air—

Ballet is awesome, by the way.

Her ripe breasts smashed against my face as she changed position, swinging both legs around my waist and pretzling them across my back.

I pushed the unbearably hard tip of my cock inside her slick gash, then let her drop back down again, burying me to the root as we allowed gravity to do our fucking for us. Her eyes scrunched shut in ecstasy.

“Yesss…”

My athletic lover pulled herself up again as I bent my legs, pulling out, then dropped herself back down as I thrust up against her.

It was a powerful, physical, almost animal kind of sex I had never experienced before. Amy’s face looked wild and predatory, like a jungle cat fighting for her life. Her breasts clapped loudly against my chest with each thrust, bouncing deliciously with each withdrawal.

Again, I looked into the mirror over her shoulder, groaning at what I saw:

There I was, holding Amy’s lithe body in my arms as we fucked. Her perfect ass bouncing up and down with my movements, the rigid thickness of my shaft disappearing into the furnace of her cunt, her long mane of red hair tossing back and forth across her slender, naked back.

“Look at us,” I whispered, twisting around so that Amy could see the mirror as well—

The sight of our naked, sweaty bodies slamming together caused her whole body to start shaking uncontrollably.

She went completely ape shit, doubling the speed of our fucking, racing for the finish line. We were both so aroused it had become painful, and we were desperate for relief.

“Fuck!” she screamed, “Fuck! Fuck! Fuh-uh-uh-uck…”

There was no way the other women in the store didn’t hear her, but I figured that was what Amy wanted. I, for one, loved the idea of everyone else hearing our frantic sex.

I clamped my hands around my lover’s firm buttocks and changed the angle of my thrusts, pounding forwards instead of upwards, so that my pelvis shoved rapid-fire against her clit. Amy went through the roof, her words incoherent. Her fingers clamped so tightly into my shoulder muscles I could only thank God she kept her nails trimmed.

“Yes!” she screamed, “Yes!”

I saw her beautiful orgasm both live and in our reflection. Two times the visual aid was too much for mortal man to endure.

I came deep inside Amy, and we both lost our balance, tumbling through the flimsy door of the changing room and crashing down onto the shag carpet.

“You okay?” I asked.

“I’m awesome, you?”

“Awesome. Nothing broken. Next time, we’ll use a bed.”

“Agreed.”

We suddenly realized that the stern young woman from before was standing not ten feet away, her blouse a mess and her face flushed with desire. She reflexively yanked her hand out from beneath the waistband of her slacks, caught:

“I just came back here to—I wasn’t—“

She stopped mid-sentence and retreated back into the store. We both burst out laughing.

I turned my attention to the gorgeous naked woman on top of me and gave her a final, satiating kiss.

“So, Amy, which swimsuit are you getting?”

“Fuck it,” she giggled. “I’ll take ‘em all!”

Published 
Written by KennethPierce
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