Loading...James is my best friend. Male best friend, that is. I’ve known him for years but, while we’ve always been close, there’s never been anything romantic between us. Probably because I’ve known him so long. It’s hard to feel romantic about the boy you kicked in the shins for rigging up a gallows and hanging all your dolls.
Taking a disinterested look at him, I have to admit he’s hot. OK, if pressed I’d call him uber hot. The type of guy who could singe a girl’s fingers just by talking to him. Not me, though. I look at him and remember Barbie dangling from a noose and my heart does not go pitter patter with romantic thoughts.
The incident I’m going to tell you about happened one winter when I dropped in to see James while I was spending a long weekend with my folks. I’d dropped in to see him after dinner, and we chatted, watched some TV and had a couple of drinks. Only a couple, as I had to drive home.
When it came time to leave I left James at the door, after exchanging air kisses (best friend only, remember), and bolted for my car. It had started to rain and it looked like it was going to get worse, so I wanted to be home before it descended upon us.
Naturally, this is when the car decided not to start. Bolting back to James place I politely knocked and waited for him to answer. In case you’re interested, politely knocked is an euphemism for hammered as hard as I could on the door, yelling to be let in before I drown.
James answered and let me in, but in typical selfish male fashion flatly refused to try to find out what was wrong with my car. It wasn’t as though he’d melt in the rain, and he could dry of quickly enough afterwards. But no, muttering something about weather fit for ducks and idiots, he told me I’d have to spend the night.
So I rang Dad and told him my problem, and that yes I had petrol, and no, I didn’t leave the lights on and flatten the battery, and I would be over-nighting at James’s place. Making a mental note to check my petrol and battery first thing, I went to find out where I’d be sleeping.
In James’s bed, it turned out. Fortunately, it was a very large bed, king size. I almost asked why he needed such a large bed but didn’t, suspecting the answer might embarrass me.
I retired for the night in a t-shirt and panties. I kept my head turned away so I don’t know what James was wearing. I was trusting that it would be something. I lay there for a little while, feeling just a touch nervous. Even if James was my best friend, he was still male, and I knew damn well what could happen between a man and a woman when they’re in the same bed. I’ve had my share of romantic moments.
Nothing happened, and I fell asleep.
I partially woke up after a couple of hours. I could feel James snuggled up next to me, with one hand actually resting on my breast. I waited for a moment, half awake, but he wasn’t groping me or anything, just sleeping with his hand in advantageous position. Advantageous for him, that is. Too drowsy to do anything about it, I ignored it and drifted off to sleep once more.
Next time I partially woke, things had changed. James hand was no longer resting on my breast but was stroking my pussy in a most thoughtful way. I know! I know! Hands don’t think. Tell that to my pussy. It knew what was happening and it was seriously considering its response, without any help from me. My panties had managed to work themselves off my bottom, and were now snuggled around my knees. I’m not saying that James helped them there, but I don’t think they managed that unaided.
I said I partially woke. That changed to fully awake as soon as my brain caught up with my pussy and realised that some action was taking place. My eyes opened so fast it’s a wonder that James didn’t hear my eyelids crash. Fortunately, I didn’t move, trying to take in the ramifications of the situation.
Patently obvious, some male/female action had started. Did I enthusiastically co-operate? Grudgingly co-operate? Put a stop to that nonsense, right now? Not realise what was happening, because I was asleep?
Not wanting to embarrass James by having him get caught out, I decided I wouldn’t wake up just yet. I could always wake up later if necessary.
James was skilfully playing with my pussy, sending wonderful little thrills through me. In my sleep I shifted uneasily. James stopped still on feeling me move, but when I relaxed again his hand started it’s marauding again. By an odd coincidence, my restless movements had actually given James better access to the toys he was playing with.
With more room to play James was soon edging apart my lips and sneaking his fingers inside me. The little thrills I had been feeling were now much larger thrills and my pussy was hot and wet, making it even more convenient for James. I was concentrating on two things now; those lovely sensations and controlling my breathing. I thought it would be inappropriate to start panting and gasping in time to James gentle prodding.
Eventually James drew his hand away, leaving me with a lovely buzz, and I thought that was going to be it. But then he returned, but that wasn’t his hand that was now pressing against me. Something very large and smooth was easing its way between my lips, trying to explore me.
Definitely time to wake up, I decided, but somehow, all I did was appear to shift sleepily, again providing better access. I’ll admit that at this point I was hoping that James’s erection wasn’t really as large as it felt. (It was.) I was hoping that it was really normal sized and it was just the odd situation that was exaggerating his size.
With access made easier, James slid up into me, taking his time and letting my vagina swell and stretch to accommodate him. Then he just lay there, filling me, and I mean filling. All I could feel was cock inside me. And it wasn’t moving. Do you realise how frustrating it is to just lie there, fully plugged in, you might say, and unable to start the ball rolling because you’re supposed to be asleep?
I think he was just waiting to make sure that he hadn’t woken me, because after a short while he did start moving, slowly drawing himself out and then sliding back. I let him do this for a short while then I let my pussy start moving in unison with him. He paused for a second the first time I twitched against him, his sharp intake of breath sounding a bit panicky, but then he relaxed and continued with his gentle rhythm.
It seemed he was determined not to make any sharp moves that might rouse me, and he just went on and on with that long smooth stroke. I wanted to scream and say move it, but I bit my tongue and went with him, gently all the way.
Do you realise how long it can take a man to climax when he’s not in a hurry and has the self-control to not let his cock run away from him? I don’t, but it felt like hours, with my lying there and moving slowly against him as he went on and on, taking his pleasure from my helpless body. It was wonderful.
I must have been hovering on the edge of an orgasm for somewhere between five minutes and five hours when I heard James’s breath start to shorten. He was starting to pant now and I knew that he was about to blow his load. I was hoping he’d at least let me come before he pulled out and spilled himself, but the bastard fooled me.
He gave a sudden short sharp stroke and came inside me, with the surge of his seed enough to make me come. My pussy clamped over his cock and milked it for all it was worth, which felt like quite a bit the way he flooded me.
Nobody could sleep through that, so I stirred restlessly for a moment, deliberately pressing my pussy hard against James’s groin before settling down a little, still moving restlessly.
James was stuck holding himself inside me until I’d settled again, which I took my time doing. Finally satisfied that I was once again sleeping soundly, James cautiously withdrew, and a few moments later I heard him getting out of bed.
After a minute or two, James returned, and a moment later I felt him carefully wiping my pussy and cleaning me up, using an ultra-delicate touch. Then he sort of wiggled my panties back up into position, and at that point I did fall asleep again.
When I woke the next morning James was already up and about. He was perfectly natural with me, and gave me no cause to suspect any sort of hanky-panky took place while I slept. After all, he’s my best friend. There’s nothing romantic between us.
James had already checked my car out. There was a loose wire and he’d fastened it back down. I had plenty of petrol and my battery wasn’t flat. He’d checked those first. Doesn’t any male trust a woman with a car?
So after breakfast and an interesting night I took my leave of James. I’ll see him again the next time I’m down this way.
And if I find I’m accidently pregnant, I’ll be down this way damn fast.