Last Night

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32


This can’t be happening. I have imagined this moment a thousand times, wished for it on countless dark nights. You take me in your arms and lift me up, kissing me passionately like it’s our last night together. It is our last night together…

Earlier that night…

It was an impromptu rendezvous. Our mutual friend had invited me to your office bar, then had proceeded to disappear, leaving us alone and forcing you to look after me. I was wearing a pair of run-down jeans and a shirt, one of my most comfortable button down shirts – in short, I was comfortable, but felt grossly de-feminised by all the beautiful swans who work in your office and who all had long flowing locks, short skirts and towering heels.

All the same, it felt good to re-connect with my best friend again. As the drinks flowed, we amused each other and re-discovered all the perfect ways our personalities fit together – it felt like five years prior when we’d both been single. We were partners in crime once again. I noticed you kept brushing my hand, and every time our hands touched it felt like a small spark flew between us. It couldn’t all be in my head could it?

After a couple of hours, we emerged from what felt like our own personal little world we had closeted ourselves into and decided to join the party as it moved to a new venue.

At the next venue, things, as they say, got interesting. The drinks came thick and fast, and with each shot, we gravitated towards each other, getting closer to each other with every passing second. As we made fun of each other’s dance styles and laughed at the other patrons of the club, it felt more and more like we were alone in a club full of loads of other Friday revelers.

Somewhere along the way, we forgot we were part of a wider group, dancing more and more sensuously. As we danced I noticed that your body was firm in all the right places, and more intriguingly, as we danced more and drank more, you seemed to be aroused as our bodies ground against each other, our blue eyes meeting above our grinding bodies.

When you stopped dancing, and left me alone on the dance floor alone, I felt a void I could not explain. Feeling like I was coming out of a trance, I followed you to where you had collapsed on a lounger. “What’s up? Old age getting to you finally?” Nothing in the world could have prepared me for your response. “No, I have a hard on. You’re turning me on too much.”

I was silenced. A hot flash shivered through my body and I instantly got wet. I must have heard wrong, this couldn’t be you – newly married – telling me, your long lost friend, what I thought you were saying. “You… Have a what?” I asked.

“A hard on. You did this to me,” you replied in very matter of fact tones. “Do you want another drink?” you then asked as if you had simply bahis firmaları said that you had a stitch and needed to sit down. I needed to start breathing again or at least get some courage. I couldn’t think so I got what you were having. As we sipped on our Heinekens in silence I looked at the dance floor, filled with pretty little things gyrating suggestively, and cursed inwardly. Why was sex everywhere I looked? But back to you: “yeah I can imagine this view did a number on you,” I said.

I had to give you an out, there had to be another explanation, I had to get this deep feeling of desire out of my head. This was my friend – we had been friends for over seven years. Platonic friends. Really platonic. I advised you on your strategy when you were looking for a wife. You held my hand through a difficult divorce. That did not mean I had not fantasized about this day so many times, knowing it could never happen, should not happen. No – this could not be happening. I was clearly drunk.

“I’m so horny,” you continued. I was sure a heart attack was in my imminent future. This could not be happening. Turning to me with the club lights playing over your handsome face, highlights in your blonde hair, you said in light tones: “I guess this is the part when I would say ‘Your place or mine?’ and you would say…”

You looked at me expectantly with a smile on your face, waiting for me to laugh it off. You smirked and then took a swig of your beer as I silently watched you. Your lips… the heat was growing between my legs. I should laugh it off – I should not even contemplate what was running through my mind.

I took a sip and a million thoughts went through my head. You’d already told me your wife was away this weekend, I’d already told you how I was so lonely at home. A glimmer of an idea began to form in my head, and with each passing second, I could not fight the realisation that come what may, I had to have you. Now.

I swallowed and summoned the courage of my ancestors. This was it, the moment when my fantasies would either be shot down or … Could I hope?

“You didn’t finish your sentence…” I said, shifting so that my fattened pussy lips could let me think clearly. “This is the part when you say ‘your place or mine’ and then I say…”

You looked at me and I saw a number of emotions flit across you face – hope, crushed by doubt, followed by lust. “It’s the part when you say we can’t,” you finished. I put my hand on your thigh and rubbed the firm muscles of your thigh under your jeans. You looked at me with uncertainty written across your face. “No baby,” I said. “It’s the moment I say: my place.”

You looked as shocked as I felt. Who was this brazen woman who just said that?! I wanted to follow that up with a giggle but your face became impossibly serious. kaçak iddaa You stood up suddenly and took me by the hand and walked me out of the club so fast my feet literally did not touch the ground.

Were you pissed off, was I about to get a dressing down because I had propositioned my best friend to break his marriage vows just months into the union? I had gambled and lost. I hung my head in disappointment and clung to you hand. We left the club and I followed as you strode fast down the road. You reached an empty table down the street that was outside on a restaurant’s patio. “Sit,” you said. “We need to talk about this.”

I sat, and my heart fell all the way to my shoes. I had ruined our friendship. Stupid, stupid, stupid girl. I forced myself to look at you. You were looking at me with a truly shocked expression on your face. Your face softened as your eyes dropped to my lips and you sighed audibly. You looked up at the stars and I stared at the other happy go lucky revelers in the street who were laughing under a clear summer sky. I struggled to find the right words to pass this off as a joke that had gone sadly, badly wrong.

I looked up again – not expecting to find you looking at me. My heart skipped a beat. Two beats. We stared at each other for a while. The music and the chatter from the streets faded away.

You took a deep breath. “I need to know,” you said, breaking the silence. Like moths drawn to a light, we simultaneously leaned towards each other and our lips met, fluttering over each other as we broke through the friends barrier after seven years of waiting.

Your tongue played with my tongue. I remember thinking I needed to bring out all my kissing skills for this one – it was do or die time.

When we finally pulled apart my world had changed. The music faded back in. We were grinning at each other like idiots. “Beautiful. Let’s go,” you said, offering me your hand.

I went. I would have followed you anywhere. We kissed and felt each other up the whole way home on the tube, laughing about how long it had taken us to get to this point. It was so easy with you.

When we finally got to my place all my nerves came back. You were a ‘well-travelled’ man in the bedroom. I was so fat right now, would you like my body? Would I be good enough? Could I make you come?

We let ourselves into my dark apartment and fell silent as we looked deeply into each other’s eyes. This was the last chance for this not to happen. We gravitated towards each other and kissed deeply. When we came up for air we stared removing each other clothes, in between deep kisses, our clothes were literally thrown all over the lobby of my apartment.

We kissed our way to the bedroom, falling on my bed in a tight embrace. “I want this,” you whispered, seemingly reading kaçak bahis my concern. After all, you were the one who was married. As bad as it may sound, I felt no remorse, I felt like I was merely claiming what had been mine before your marriage.

You entered me slowly, as if wanting to savour the feeling we’d both desired since we lay eyes on each other seven years prior. It felt like I had been penetrated by your soul, this was beyond sex. “You’re so tight,” you said against my neck. Wet could not even cover what I was, I felt like my entire purpose on earth was to receive you.

You started a rhythm, pounding me as you placed butterfly kisses down my neck and on my breasts, with your hands stroking my every inch. I ran my hands down the length of your biceps, loving the feeling of your weight and arms on either side of my body. My fingers fluttered over your chest, loving your erect nipples. I felt my pussy pulsing around your cock, embracing it, releasing it, embracing it, then releasing it. I looked down at where our bodies met and admired the sight of your cock entering me with such gentle ferocity. I raised my eyes to yours to find you staring at me, you mouthed my name in wonder. I traced your lips with my fingers and said your name back; it felt like we were trying to ensure that it was not another fantasy but the real thing. You felt so good, I could feel I was getting close. And then I felt your cock grow bigger as your breath started to flutter and gripped you tighter with my pussy. Your breath grew short and you started sounding like you were fighting a losing battle against your body. You threw your head back and pounded me, hard.

“Take it! Take it baby!” you shouted as your flow splashed into me. It seemed you came forever, as if you were pouring all of your seven year desires into me at once. I started coming, with wave after wondrous wave engulfing me, clinging to your body like it was an anchor as I started to float away on a breath of desire.

We lay panting on the bed, coming down from our high.

Already many thoughts were running through my mind – topmost, how would I keep my hands off you in the future? Followed closely by – was this it? Could I hope for more time with you? I pushed the thoughts aside and hugged you closer as I felt you slip out of my drenched pussy as you became soft. You sighed. “Shit, why’d it have to be so good?” you laughed, panting.

This wouldn’t be the last time. It could never be the last time.


Authors note: This is a true, beautiful story. My best friend and I had sex a few more times until I started to feel really deep feelings for him and literally cut him off, never seeing or talking to him again – the sad consequence of crossing the line of friendship. I ran from certain heart-break. But I always wonder what could be if things were different, and on hot summer nights like today when I touch myself, this is the only episode that makes me cum every time – just like I did that wondrous night. I hope you enjoyed it.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Leave a Reply

E-posta hesabınız yayımlanmayacak. Gerekli alanlar * ile işaretlenmişlerdir