**Hey y’all! This was written in POV, as it’s a fond memory with a close friend. Put yourself in her place, and enjoy the ride. Xoxo**
It had been a really rough few months on every front. A rough time at work, family issues, and breakup left you feeling drained and alone. You needed some company, someone to confide in and exist with without pressure. You knew you could call me, and that I’d be there. And so you did, and so I was.
We ended up in your bed, laying beside one another. You were unloading about the clusterfuck of life, and I was quietly listening and occasionally offering commentary. You looked over and smiled at me, told me how much you appreciated me and slipped your hand into mine. I returned the sentiment with a smile to match.
You continued, with both of us acutely aware of our bodies touching while we talked. Eventually, it came up. I don’t remember how, and I doubt you do either. You mentioned how long it had been since you had been touched by a man, and joked that the hand holding was really getting you going. I looked at you with seductive humor and began tracing my fingers down your wrist. “How about now?” You giggled, but also sighed. That little forced exhalation told me all I needed to know about how it made you feel.
The mood shifted, and you told me how your sex drive had been killed by the breakup, and that you didn’t even feel like touching yourself much these days. I spent this time tracing my fingers up and down your arms and hands, because I could tell you liked it. But then, you came out and said it. “That feels really good. You’re making me feel things. You know.”
I did know. I kept going.
“I’m not really ready to go all the way, though. I’m sorry.”
I could feel how conflicted you were. I felt that you needed release. You could use a hand, but you weren’t ready. I had an idea.
“What if I just…help you? Be here with you while you take care of yourself. I can touch and kiss your body while you do.”
Your eyes lit up. “That wouldn’t be fair though, I know you’d want to…”
“It’s okay” I soothed. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. No reciprocating. Will you let me help you?”
Your protests died away quickly. You shyly pulled a sheet up over your body, and wiggled out of your shorts under the covers. I laid up close to you, on your side, and began tracing my fingers up your arms, and over your neck. Gently stroking and massaging. A quiet moan escaped your lips while your hand began moving under the sheet.
This went on for a few minutes, until I asked if I could use my mouth. You nodded enthusiastically, hand still going under the sheets. I began to kiss and lick your neck, while my hand roamed over your chest. Your nipples were rock hard through the tee shirt you were wearing. My hands zeroed in as soon as I felt the twitch of your body when my fingers made contact with your nipples.
“This okay?”
“Yes, very. Please. Yes.”
You were reaching incoherence, lost in the sensation of neck and nipple stimulation while you pleasured yourself.
“Can I take this off?” I said while gripping your breast.
“Uh huh.”
I lifted your shirt up over your beautiful breasts, a perfect handful. My tongue left your neck, and began to swirl over your hard, brown nipples. You began panting and gasping, and I knew I had found the sweet spot. I kept suckling, with my hand traveling between your other breast and your neck.
“Oh, oh, oh, fuck, yes.”
Your short syllabled words told me you were close. I did not change a single thing, and in moments, you went over the edge, writhing and twisting in the throes of pleasure while I drew your nipple into my mouth.
As you came down from the high, I slowed down, gently kissing your breasts once more before lowering your shirt. You threw yourself into me, holding on to me in a snuggly embrace. I held you there for a while, before the time came and I had to go.
“Thank you” you whispered.
“Of course. Do you feel better?”
“Yes, I needed that. Thank you.” Thanking me twice was pretty cute.
I kissed your forehead, and left. It wouldn’t be the last time we’d give each other a hand, but neither of us would forget just how tender the first was. A shared moment of intimacy without labels or complication.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/woi6a8/mf_i_gave_you_a_helping_hand_and_mouth_when_you