Friday night. It’s just about the most barebones way to open a story, but it already says plenty. Everybody can relate to the feeling of relief that comes over a person when they clock out of work for the week, or they get out of that last class. In my situation, it was a little of both, considering I was spending the night hanging out with eight or so friends from my university.
It’d be hard to call the gathering a party, considering there was no booze, no jocks, and nobody having wild sex…all we had was a humble little get-together of friends in a dimly-lit apartment. It wasn’t a bad place by any means, of course; the New Hampshire apartment was warm and cozy, clean, and most importantly, the object of entertainment for the night was on the center table: Adult Loaded Questions! After all, regular Loaded Questions just wouldn’t do it for college students, right?
I was seated on the love seat, idly browsing on my phone. Two or three of my other friends were in the same boat, and the remaining ones were chatting about nothing in particular. We didn’t have these sorts of nights all the time, but we enjoyed them while they lasted. Most of us were usually busy with work, school, or both.
When the door to the apartment swung open, everyone looked in its direction.
“Alright, NOW we can start.”
Holly’s voice wasn’t particularly loud or high-pitched, but it still managed to have a presence in any room while having an undeniably feminine tone. She was carrying a few bags of chips and soda, laying them out on the table rather unceremoniously, tossing her jacket onto her desk before plopping down beside me.
For every pair of opposite traits we had, it seemed like there was a similarity. She was forward, and I was reserved. We both had thin builds. She had wider shoulders than I did, and was in the ballpark of 4 or so inches taller than me (to play devil’s advocate, it’s not that she was particularly tall, but I was on the short side). We were both brunettes, though she was dyed, being a natural blonde. Her hair reached down to her shoulders, and mine was cut short. We both wore glasses. She had on a tanktop and loose-fitting sweatpants, and I had a baggy hoodie and jeans.
She was busty, and I was…not.
Despite making it sound so far like I was some hopeless fool who had barely muttered 5 words to her in my whole life, we’d been close friends for years. We were with each other through most of our college ups and downs, spending more than a few all-nighters together, whether that was out of necessity to finish a project, or having a talk in our pajamas that we just didn’t want to end.
I turned to her, putting my phone away. “How’re things going? Managing?” I asked.
“Yeah, can’t complain…work’s been down my back lately, but fuck it, I can ignore it for one night.” She replied, letting out a tired sigh. I gave her an understanding nod in response, the both of us laying back just as someone else leaned forward to read the first card, motioning for everyone to get started.
“What’s a sure sign you’re dating a psycho?”
Always a good one to start with.
Going around the group, there were the usual answers that fell flat, some that got a few snickers out of the group…Holly’s was pretty telling, though.
“They start their summer vacation off by breaking up with you.”
That wasn’t a secret to anyone, but I was worried that it was still fresh in her mind, all these months later. Granted, I knew that she was a strong person, but bitterness often comes along with that, unfortunately. I just hopped she was being self-deprecating in a way for a cheap laugh.
“What is one gift someone could give you that would totally turn you on?”
The usual helping of good and not-so-good answers. Considering I was among friends, I thought I’d be a little tongue-in-cheek, and choose “A fuckbuddy, for starters!” Holly’s was yet another winner: “Batteries for my hitachi wand.” Still straddling that bitterly sarcastic line, though.
Question 3 of the night: “What comes to mind when you hear the word ‘juicy’?”
It was undeniable that everyone’s answers were getting raunchier as time was going on. After all, everyone was loosening up and getting more comfortable, but Holly was uncharacteristically honest with a “Good ole’ fashioned sloppy, intimate banging!” Fitting neither in the sarcastic or hilarious camp, she got quite a few odd looks, one coming from myself, admittedly.
“What? Man, screw you guys.” She huffed, practically a hiss. By this point, I felt like I had to say something. Rather than making a scene, I casually pulled my phone from my pocket, sending her a quick text, saying, “Are you feeling OK? You seem a little different today”. I heard the tell-tale “ding!” from her pocket after I sent the text, and she read it immediately, responding just as quickly.
“I know I’ve been kinda weird tonight, I’m just a little on edge. The game isn’t helping. I’ve had a dry spell since the beginning of the summer and I already know the questions this game is gonna ask. I just don’t want to make a big deal, especially since it’s my own apartment… Sorry if that’s too private. :/ “
“No problem, I get where you’re coming from. Sorry to hear about the dry spell.”
I hesitated to add one more little thing before sending…we had known each other for years, so I had at least SOME level of confidence and comfort when I added, “Besides, I know what you’re going through. Nobody knows dry spells like me. :P“
I made the common mistake of hitting send, and THEN analyzing everything I said. All I really wanted at that moment was to show that I could relate to her, but when I saw the confused expression on her face, I realized how flirtatious it sounded. Before I could even send a text to clarify what I meant, we were on to the next question: “What do you do to turn on the charm?”
Mine was “Focus on talking about her”, and Holly’s, “Be more playful and sweet than usual”.
As soon as I had the chance, I sent her a text saying, “I just realized how that might’ve sounded, I just want you to know that I get where you’re coming from.” She just smiled as she looked down at her phone, texting “It’s fine, I know what you meant. I know you’re not like that.”
Without realizing why, I felt my heart sink. I was glad to hear that she didn’t think I texted like a straight white boy (even though I was), but the potential double-meaning felt like a rejection. Almost as though she wouldn’t have been interested anyway, even though that may have been me overanalyzing things. Of course, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t fantasize more than a few times of hooking up with her. She had that “girl next door” vibe, being someone you could call your closest friend, and pretty as all hell. I never thought of her in a romantic way, though… just as a friend, and in some less-than-friendly dreams, something much more intimate.
The next question seemed to come while I was dozing off, and it was my turn to read it, meaning I didn’t get a chance to pitch in: “What is every woman’s fantasy?”
While they were all fun to read, I did my best to hide my excitement when I discovered which one was Holly’s: “Having a friend you can both talk to and make out with for hours on end”. She got a few hollers from the group, and I just responded with an admittedly somewhat-nervous smile. It wasn’t so much her words that said everything by that point, but her body language. She subtly scooted closer to me, slowly enough that I hardly even noticed until she was pressed right up to me. I looked over to her, finding her typing away on her phone, and as soon as she finished her text, I felt my phone buzz. We made eye contact for a brief moment, and while there was absolutely nothing new about that, she had a sort of playfulness that I rarely saw.
“You seem a little on edge. Everything OK? :P “ it said. I just rolled my eyes, smiling back at her. Next up was her card: “What do you like most about your partner?”
I’d never call myself savvy when it came to flirting, but it felt like a “now or never” moment. Considering everything I knew about Holly, and everything I heard that night, she didn’t need a knight in shining armor to sweep her off her feet, or someone to endlessly wine and dine her…she needed what I needed: release with someone you know and trust well. Needless to say, my answer of “Her no-bullshit approach to just about everything” won me an approving nod.
A few more rounds went by lazily, with people talking more and more about other things as the night went on. The crowd dissipated one by one, and just after midnight, the last person left, leaving me and Holly on the loveseat, practically squished right up against each other.
As soon as the door shut, I turned to her in an effort to say something, anything about what was going on between us, but she beat me to the punch. I felt her lips press firmly against mine without warning, and I inhaled sharply. I should’ve seen it coming from a mile away, but the first few seconds were still awkward as I adjusted to her sudden touch, closing my eyes, and laying my hands on her hips. She turned to more comfortably face me, tucking her legs underneath herself.
Feeling the heat of her body against my own was more than enough to get my blood flowing. It had been so long since I reveled in a woman’s touch, but with her, there was no nervousness. Everything felt natural, and I trusted her more than anyone.
I brushed my tongue lightly over her lips, and without skipping a beat, she opened up and tilted her head for that make out session we both needed so desperately. We both shivered with pleasure, and having gone so long without, we pulled each other closer, desiring only what a good friend could give at that point.
The only sounds in the room for a few moments were our lusty breaths and our tongues exploring the other’s mouths, though soon after, fabric hitting the floor was added in. We stripped only the essentials; I took my jacket off, though we both stayed in our shirts. I slid my jeans and boxers down to the floor, and she wriggled her hips until the waistband of her sweatpants was around her midthighs.
My cock was aching and throbbing for her touch, and we both knew what we wanted. She swirled her skilled tongue over the head, sampling the precum dribbling down my shaft before slipping the first inch or so into her mouth. I needed her so badly, I couldn’t help but buck my hips upward, pushing another inch or so inside her needfully, but she responded accordingly, laying her tongue out flat against the side. I laid my right hand on her head gently, leaving us in a position where I was seated, and she was leaning down from her original seat, her legs tucked underneath her.
I ran my free hand over her thigh, feeling her shiver and lift her hips up to give me access to her wetness. I slid a single finger between her legs, and as soon as I grazed over her lips, felt her grind against the digit needfully. Though the positioning was a bit awkward, I managed to slide two fingers inside of her, curling them, slowly pumping them against her wetness.
Needless to say, my hands grew more shaky as I got closer to the edge. She knew this, bobbing her head more quickly, swirling her tongue over the sensitive head of my shaft. The motion of my fingers stroking her inner walls wasn’t smooth anymore, but fervent and passionate. The lewd sounds of our breaths and juices filled the room, and it all came crashing down when her hips began bucking violently. Her body tensed up, she leaned herself further down onto my cock and away from my fingers, and my shaft throbbed before erupting with thick loads of cum. In her spasms of passion, she pulled away from my cock to breathe and pant, leaving my cum to splatter against her tongue, her cheek, and my stomach.
My body tensed with bliss for a few more minutes, and I laid my head back in exhaustion as she rode her wave of pleasure out for a few moments longer. We were both panting as though we ran a mile, and as soon as the realization of what truly happened hit her, she let out a tired little laugh. I couldn’t help but respond in the same way, not moving any other part of my body yet.
“So…let’s save that for when we really need it…deal?”
“Deal.”
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/55ruq9/mf_a_little_help