The Bed and The Best Friend Prt. II
Introduction:
Part 2 of the story! note that this story is a little less sexual, more of a story builder
I purposefully took my time getting ready. I wasn’t sure what to expect with Anna. Would it be awkward? Would she be upset? Angry? Maybe it was a dream. Maybe I had imagined it all. Maybe I had been awaken and she had been asleep. Is there such a thing as “sleep blowing”?
I stalled and stalled upstairs as long as I could, able to wait no longer — and not even sure if Anna were still at the apartment — I came down and ran to the kitchen to make my lunch.
“Morning,” she said, behind me. I spun. She was wearing a tight skirt that showed off her ridiculous curves and a tight white dress shirt with one too few buttons unbuttoned. I took a mental snapshot, just in case I was back to being on my own later.
“Oh, hey,” I said. “Uh, how are you?”
“Good,” she said, smiling. “You?”
“Uhhhh … great. Great. Brilliant, really. You?”
“You already asked.”
“Right. Oh. Sorry.”
“Look I …” she said
“I was going to …” I interrupted.
“Sorry.”
“Sorry.”
“You first,” I said.
“I don’t want this to be weird between us. What happened last night … it was nice. But it does not have to define our relationship.”
“No. Right. Sure.”
“It’s just … I don’t want you to treat us different.”
“No, I got it.”
“It was fun,” she said, smiling. “I had fun.”
“Me too.”
“Good,” she said.
“Yeah.”
“Maybe, you know. Maybe later we can … whatever?”
“That would be great,” I said, smiling as she walked out the door. She wanted it casual, I thought. Good. I can do that. I will just wait to tell her I am madly in love with her.
***
All hot girls have clothes they wear that they think makes them look not hot. Maybe it is a baseball cap or a t-shirt or a pair of old panties. I am not sure how they got it in their mind that mere clothing can somehow mask their general hotness, but they did. And men everywhere are thrilled about it.
Because the secret truth is that a hot girl looks hot, usually, no matter what. Put Megan Fox in a pair of old sweat pants, a trucker cap and a football jersey … and she still looks like Megan Fox in a pair of old sweat pants, a trucker cap and a football jersey. Women thinking their beauty is diminished by one clothing item would be like someone saying the “Mona Lisa” was only memorable because of its nice frame.
Anyway, Anna had a pair of PJs with a cow print on them. Not little photos of cows, rather, but a pair of white PJs with little black spots on them, like a cow would have. She thought they were her way of “bumming out,” but combine it with a tank top that showed off her flat stomach, and they were flannel viagra. Every time she wore them, all I could think of was how badly I wanted to peel them down and lick her from behind.
For a week after we had our encounter, we sort of missed each other. She was out of town for three days that weekend, to visit her sister. Also, I worked late a day or two, and by the time I got home, she was asleep. I did not wake her, nor did I jerk off. It was one thing to do it when I thought I was getting away with it, but it was another to do it knowing she knew. I didn’t want her to think I had expectations every time I went to sleep, so I assumed if she wanted to, she’d make a move. She didn’t. So I just slept.
We talked a bit in the mornings, but mainly just chit chat. To be fair, the convos were no less or no more than they were before our encounter, so it wasn’t really a barometer of our relationship.
One week after we hooked up, our schedules finally meshed, and we found ourselves on the couch, watching TV. She was wearing her unbelievably-sexy-even-though-she-didn’t-know-it cow pajamas and a tank top that did not quite cover her stomach or her belly button piercing.
“There’s nothing on,” I said, after the movie we were watching ended. “We could download something.”
“Nah. I’m tired. I think I am going to bed.”
“Oh,” I said. “Cool.”
There was an awkward pause. One of the few of our relationship.
“You … haven’t been avoiding me, have you?” she asked.
“What? No. No. Why would you …”
“It’s just we haven’t really, you know, been together since last week, and you come to bed late. And you haven’t, uh, I mean, you were doing it every night, and you aren’t …”
“I just, it’s, well, work. And I didn’t … I mean, you’ve been asleep. So I thought it might be weird.”
“It wasn’t weird before.”
“Right, but that was different.”
“Why?”
“I thought you didn’t know I was doing it.”
“So … it was less awkward to jerk off when you thought I was asleep than it would be to jerk off knowing I didn’t care?”
“Well … uh, you know, you have a point. But you are in a vulnerable place right now. And I didn’t want to be the guy to take advantage of that.”
“That’s sweet. I mean it. And, look, I’m not busting your balls. I am not looking for anything from you. I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable. This is your place. You make the rules.”
“OK,” I said. “Fine. Sometimes … what you wear, is distracting. It would be easier for me if you dressed … differently.”
“Like what do I wear?”
“That.”
“What?”
“The clothing you have on.”
“This?!”
“Yes!”
“These pajamas I’ve had forever?”
“Yes.”
“These?”
“YES!”
“Really?”
“Yes. Really.”
“My cow pajamas turn you on?”
“Yes.”
“And the tank top?”
“YES. The tank top.”
She smiled, tossing her brown hair back as she laughed. Anna loved to tease. The worst thing you could do was show her your weakness.
“OK,” she said, smiling. “I’ll take them off.”
She stood up, thumbs under waist band, pushing down her cow pajamas and revealing a tiny pair of black-silk panties. The black tank top stayed on, still pushed up above her belly button.
“Better?” she said, hands on hip.
I grabbed the couch cushion, pressing it into my lap. “No,” I said.
“I am running out of things to take off.”
“Not funny.”
“Well … it looks like you have something to, um, work out. I am going to go upstairs. To bed. You can work it out down here. Or you can come up there.”
***
The lights were out by the time I got upstairs. Anna was in bed, with the covers pulled back on my side.
“Decided to come to bed?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I said.
I took off my pants and shirt, as usual. I always slept in boxers. I crawled in bed, laying on my back.
“So …” she said, turning on her side, facing me, “you liked my panties?”
“Stop,” I said.
“What?”
“Teasing me.”
She leaned in, whispering in my ear, “If you didn’t like them, I can take them off.”
“Fuuucck,” I said, a low growl. “You are so sexy.” I turned grabbing her face and kissing her hard. She kissed me back, for a second, before breaking away and moving to the side.
“Woaahh,” she said.
“What?”
“You kissed me!”
“So?”
“So … that’s, uh, different.”
“Huh?”
“That’s, you know, like, intimate stuff.”
“Wait … you swallowed my cum last week.”
“Yeah?”
“What was that?”
“That’s not … look, I want us to have fun. You know, two friends, having fun. Making each other feel good. Great. Let’s do that. But we start kissing and holding hands and all the other stuff, and this becomes, you know, feely stuff. Making love. Whatever. I don’t want that. Not now. You’re my oldest friend.”
“No, I get it.”
“Do you?”
“Yeah,” I said, still sort of confused but also still hard and not wanting to say something stupid.
She leaned back down, and kissed my chest. “This is cool. If we do this.” She kissed down, licking my nipple. “And this.” She sat up, pulling off her tank top, showing me her tits again and hard nipples. She leaned down, pressing her breast against my lips. I opened my mouth, sucking her nipple into my mouth. “Fuck. Yes. That is OK to do,” she said.
She straddled me, her thin black panties pressing against my boxers. Her arms went to either side of my head and she pressed her breasts into my face. She had perfect-sized nipples that grew long and hard. I sucked one into my mouth while I squeezed her other breast, stroking the hard tip. “Fuck,” she moaned, grinding her panties against my crotch.
She clearly liked having her nipples sucked. She would alternate, moving from one to the other, while grinding against my cock. My boxers were already soaked, she was so wet. She was dripping down her thighs and coating me.
She reached down, between her legs, slipping my boxers lower so my cock was out. She pressed her panty-covered mound against my cock and continued grinding. The sensation was incredible. Just a thin-layer of cum-soaked silk between her cunt and my cock. I could feel her heat, her hard clit, pressing against me as she bucked harder. Her tits were covered in my spit as I moved back and forth, not sure how long she wanted this, but happy to continue doing it.
She was panting and cursing, pressing hard against me. I felt like a teenager. I had not cum from “dry” humping since high school, but she was almost too much. I reached around, squeeze her thick ass as I sucked harder on her nipple, biting it with my teeth. That must have been what she needed, because she inhaled sharply, her body tense against my, her pussy pressed hard against my cock. She let out a few “unf” sounds as she shuddered, collapsing against my chest in a hard spasm.
“Wow,” she said, finally, her brown hair fanning out across my chest. “That was intense.”
“It seemed like it.”
“I’ve never came like that. Just your mouth. And grinding. Wow.”
“Glad I could help. It was … nice on my end.”
“Did you cum?” she asked, looking up at me.
“Almost. But, no.”
She smiled. “Do you want to?”
I laughed. “Uh, well, the thought crossed my mind, yes.”
“OK. Well, how do you want to cum?”
“Well, what are my options.”
She sat up, straddling me, her hands on my chest.
“You can have my hand … or my mouth.”
“That all?”
She sort of wiggled her hips against my swollen cock, pressing her wet panties against my bulge. One of her hands snaked down, pulling my cock up so it was between her legs. She grinded against my cock again. “What else do you want?”
“You going to make me say it?”
“Uh huh.”
“Fine. Your pussy.”
She inhaled. She reached down, pushing her panties to the side and holding them there with her hand, she continued rubbing against my cock, only this time, it was skin against skin.
“This?” she asked.
“Mmm hmm,” I said. The sensation was incredible. She was so warm. Her skin so wet and soft.
“Is this enough, or do you want to go inside?”
“Fuck,” I said. The tease. “Inside.”
She popped up, slipping off her panties, and hopped back on the bed. She straddled me again, pulling my cock down so it was pressed between her vagina and my stomach. She slid up a little further, teasing the head of my cock with her lips. She eased just the head into her tight slit. “How is this?” she asked.
“Good,” I said, trying to thrust up. My hips caused her to move further, slipping off of me. “Nope,” she said. “Not yet.”
She eased back, again, slipping around just the head of my cock, causing me to pulse and ache. “I think,” she said, pausing, “I think that is enough. Maybe I will save that.”
I was disappointed, but I was also ready to pop and not in a position to argue. “OK.”
“Is my mouth good?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“And since you are patient … I will let you cum on my face,” she said, sliding down, licking my stomach.
The blow job did not last long. I felt her hand on my cock, the other on my balls. Her mouth found a good pace and swallowed me almost whole. She jacked my shaft and licked the underside of my cock, all the while pressing down on my balls. I ached for release, and it came quickly.
“Shit,” I said, hips pressing up as I held back the first shot. She knew it was happening and pulled away, jerking my cock as I let go, letting a stream of cum hit her in the mouth, then on the jaw. She let a few shots hit her cheeks, then aimed down, letting me splash on her tits. I hadn’t jerked off in days, and it showed. I covered her chest and face. A sticky mess.
“Wow,” she said. “I look like a porn star.”
“Sorry,” I said, sheepishly.
“No,” she said, sliding her head back on my chest, covering me in my own cum. “Fuck no. That was sexy. Don’t say you are sorry. Wow. That was so hot.”
“Glad you liked it.”
We lay there for a few minutes, our sticky parts drying. As I was about drift off she said, “Sorry about before.”
“What?” I said, looking down. She was laying on my chest, head on hands.
“The kiss thing.”
“Oh. You know. Don’t worry.”
“I made it weird.”
“It’s cool.”
She leaned in and kissed me on the lips. It was gentle. Sweet. Soft. “Good night,” she said.
