Fuck Buddy (3 page)

“Doing what?”

“Acting like you didn’t hear me.”

“You’ve had too much to drink.”

“One glass or three glasses, we’d be having the same conversation, Luke. I’m twenty-five, and I’m sick of it. I know we have each other, and I love this. You know, our friendship.” She waved her hand back and forth between us. “But I need some dick.”

I did my best to act preoccupied with the chicken. It seemed to do nothing short of urge her to press even further. As I reached for my fork, she continued.

She lifted her glass of wine. “No matter how you want to look at it, this is the first time in four years that I’ve been single.”

I chewed the piece of cold meat and poked at the remaining chicken breast with the tip of the fork. She was right, but I really didn’t want to think about it. I wanted her to change the subject. Knowing her as well as I did, however, I realized she probably had no intention of doing so. There would never be a woman on earth with the natural ability to please me more than Liv, but finding a woman – any woman – to be able to fulfill my sexual desires would be close to impossible.

“Well, you know, not
actively
looking for someone to date,” she said. “And, the more I think about it, it’s the only time since you’ve been single that I
wasn’t
dating. So what do you think about that?”

I peered over the table and tried to purse my lips. Instead, my mouth twisted into a smirk as I spoke. “About what?”

“I swear. You’re Mister evasive. I know after Valerie you said you were done, but there’s no way you’re done. Not like
done
.”

When Valerie and I broke up, I swore I’d never be in another relationship, and I hadn’t so much as kissed a girl since. Convinced the possibility of me being compatible with a woman was zero, I saw no future in even trying.

“I’m thinking we should…I don’t know…maybe try and...”

“Try and what, Liv?”

“I don’t know. I was just thinking. I mean, we’re best friends and we never argue about anything. And, well…I mean…”

I had spent all of my days since my one and only relationship ended trying to rid my mind of thoughts of sex, and of women for that matter. As attracted as I was to Liv, dating her was out of the question.

The thought of having sex with her, however, was something I struggled with as I waited for each and every wave.

But I wasn’t satisfied with simply having sex.

When it came to sex, there was something wrong with me. Terribly wrong. Attempting to fulfill my sexual desires ended my first relationship, and I was quite certain it would end any relationship I had in the future. If Liv really wanted to date, she would have an expectation of sex. If we took our relationship along that path, it would inevitably end and end quickly.

I had no interest in losing my only friend.

I stared down at my plate, wondering if she was speaking out of sexual frustration and had no intention of acting upon her statement, or if she was half-drunk and being somewhat truthful. It was also quite possible she was suggesting we attempt nothing other than being more active friends, and begin going out on
dates
, but remain friends.

Thinking of the possibilities caused me to feel as if the temperature in the kitchen had increased thirty degrees. I wiped my brow with the back of my hand, glanced up, and studied her.

She sat in her chair with the stem of the wine glass dangling between her thumb and middle finger. With her long brown hair pulled up into a bun and her eyes clearly indicating the effects of the three glasses of wine, she looked remarkable.

She always looked remarkable.

“We can’t date, Liv. It’s out of the question,” I said flatly.

Her idea of dating was entertaining to think about, but it wouldn’t work. We were adults. Adults who dated eventually ended up having sex, and sex, at least for us, would end the relationship. Considering my sexual hang-ups, to agree to date her would be to cast our friendship aside. I wasn’t of the opinion my sexual preferences were wrong, but I was convinced they weren’t widely accepted.

She attempted to raise her glass and sloshed a portion of the wine onto the table in front of her. After her eyes fell to the spill, she raised them to meet mine and grinned. “Because?”

“Because I can’t risk losing you.”

She licked the wine from her lips. “Is that the only reason?”

It wasn’t, but for the sake of the conversation we were having, I didn’t need to expand my response to include my sexual deviance.

“Yes,” I lied.

“Fine.” She placed her glass of wine to the side and leaned forward. As she fixed her hypnotic green eyes on mine, she continued. “Forget dating. Forget a relationship. Let’s remain friends. I agree, losing you is something I can’t chance. But, I’m fucking dying.”

“How so?”

“I need some dick. I really do. You’re single, I’m single. I think we should just start fucking. You know, be fuck buddies. What do you think about that? You and me being fuck buddies?”

I sat and stared with my mouth agape, mentally prepared to provide her with a long list of reasons why we couldn’t be friends and have sex with each other.

Instead, I gawked at her as if she had just found a way to cure cancer.

She leaned away from the table and picked up her glass of wine. Her eyes widened as she raised it to her mouth. “Well, at least you’re thinking about it.”

She was right.

I was thinking about it.

And, although I knew it probably should have, it didn’t sound like a bad idea.

Not bad at all.

CHAPTER THREE

LIV

After being friends for two-and-a-half decades and never once discussing it, I found it hard to believe we had reached a point where not only were we talking about sex, but seriously considering becoming sexually active with each other. It was now two weeks after my suggestion of becoming fuck buddies, and we sat in the living room discussing it at length. It was the third time we talked about it, but this time seemed to be more serious. After discussions of sexually transmitted diseases and me reminding him I was on birth control, the conversation migrated to the sex act itself. Luke claimed to be some kind of sexual deviant, but as far as I was concerned, his personal diagnosis of what he perceived as a fault was just one more reason for us to be fucking each other.

“Sex is sex. I mean, really. Nothing against you, but I don’t see how it’s going to be much different,” I said.

He gazed down at the floor for a moment and appeared to be in deep thought. I mentally stood firm in my opinion that his warnings of my inability to accept his sexual offerings were unwarranted.

“So, I guess surfing is surfing.” He turned to face me. “You’ve seen me surf, right?”

“Uhh. Yeah.”

To see Luke surf was much different than watching anyone else attempt to do so. Typically, rows upon rows of surfers would wait for the waves, paddling to catch each and every one. Most failed completely at catching anything. Luke, on the other hand, waited for the perfect wave, and appeared to always catch it right before it broke, riding it in a manner that made it seem like he was personally taming it from a thirty-foot tall treacherous beast to the flattened white foam that softly washed to the shore.

He cocked one eyebrow. “Can you compare my surfing to all surfing?”

I shook my head. “No. Not at all.”

“Remember when we were in high school, and you came to see me compete for my black belt?”

“Sure.”

“How many matches did you watch before it was my turn?”

I shrugged and tried to remember the competition. “I don’t know, like, maybe, eight or ten.”

“Did any of them seem as talented as me?”

I shook my head. I couldn’t say I agreed with his theory that I would recede into a ball of emotion and sit in the corner babbling, but he was making some very valid points regarding the difference in his abilities as they compared to everyone else’s.

“You made your point. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to be an emotional wreck over this. You said you weren’t abusive, and that you weren’t into that sado-whatever-shit, so I think I’m good to go,” I said.

He brushed his hair from his face and laughed. “Good to go, huh?”

“Yep.”

His eyes fell to my waist and slowly rose the length of my torso, stopping as they met mine. “And, to clarify, I said I wasn’t into violence and that I didn’t have sadistic tendencies. But, our opinions of what’s sadistic may differ. I’ve taken a long look at myself, and I’m a sadist, by definition. I obtain satisfaction from not only being in charge, but from watching my partner suffer. Mentally suffer.”

I chuckled.

He stared at me without an ounce of emotion.

“Listen. I’m sure some women let guys fuck them because they feel obligated. I’ve told you before. But just in case you forgot. I like dick.” I assured him.

His expression didn’t change.

“Actually,” I said with a smile. “I
love
it.”

His mouth twisted into smirk and he shook his head in apparent disbelief.

“So, what are we down to? Mental sexual suffering? Yeah, I think I’ll be fine,” I said, hoping to convince him I was no newcomer to being mind-fucked by men.

“That simple, huh?” He chuckled.

It didn’t sound so bad at first, but I was beginning to wonder. “Well, what are you talking about? Mental suffering? From sex?”

“I don’t know how to explain it. I just like seeing you get confused and nervous about sex. The mental struggle with continuing or whatever. When you want to continue, but you don’t. I don’t know,” he said, shaking his head as he spoke.

It sounded pretty ridiculous to me. “Sounds good to me. I’m still thinking I’m good to go.”

As his gaze fell to the floor and he continued to shake his head, my pussy began to tingle. I found the thought of it all very intriguing, but beyond that, I was becoming aroused thinking of just what mental suffering would or even could come from having sex. My mind eventually drifted to thoughts of Luke fucking me into a babbling pile of naked flesh, and it was there that I remained until he snapped his fingers and brought me out of my sexual slumber.

“Where the hell did you go?” he asked.

I squinted and stared. “Huh?”

“You faded away or something. I was talking, and you were just sitting there slobbering,” he said with a laugh.

I wiped the sides of my mouth with the back of my hand and gazed down at what appeared to be very dry skin. “I wasn’t slobbering.”

“Well, you were pretty close.”

“What did you say?” I asked.

He waved his hand in my direction. “Forget it.”

“No, no, no. No, don’t start that
forget it
shit. What?” I snapped back.

“Everyone’s a gangster until someone pulls a gun,” he said.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means when shit gets real I guess you’ll find out if you’re
good to go
.”

I laughed. It sounded ridiculous. “When the shit gets real? Are we talking about rescuing hostages or fucking?”

“Making slow passionate love isn’t something I’m interested in,” he said. “It might get rough or even be mentally exhausting, but one thing it won’t be is easy.”

Point taken, but I’m not like a normal woman. I like dick.

A lot of it.

I twisted my mouth to the side and widened my eyes slightly. It was my best
is that all you’ve got
look. He’s seen it a million times if he’d seen it once.

He lowered his head and chuckled. “Fuck buddies, huh? I guess we can agree to give it a try. But if we do, you just need to remember, I like weird shit.”

Weird rough sex?

Yeah, count me in.

I sat at one end of the couch and he at the far other. I peered toward him as he babbled his rhetoric, trying to assure myself if we took this step that I would be just fine. It was just sex, at least that’s what I kept telling myself. I was convinced some women had sex for the sole purpose of satisfying their partner or to keep the relationship from falling apart. Others, and probably a rather small portion of the general population, truly enjoyed it. I was one of the rare few that loved sex and everything about it.

As I admired him with what seemed to be a different set of eyes than I had ever viewed him through, I decided not only was I
good to go
as far as sex went, but that I was ready.

Ready for him to try and fuck me to death.

Or at least into a pile of babbling flesh.

I stood up. “Yeah. I’m good to go.”

His eyes followed me as I stood. Quickly, his face washed with confusion.

I placed my hands on my hips and forced a sigh. “I mean we’re both adults. We’ve been friends for as long as we can remember. I’m not going to let anything get between us. If we’re just going to remain friends and bring sex into the friendship, it’s not that big of a deal. If having sex with you turns me into a wreck, or I can’t handle it, we’ll stop. But, let me just warn you of something before we go any further.”

“What’s that?” he asked.

I cocked my hip to the side and did my best to mentally undress him. “I just might fuck
you
into a pile of babbling flesh. That’s what you said, right? Babbling flesh? I was going to be sitting in the corner babbling to myself, that’s what you said. Well, get ready to babble, Mister.”

He pressed his hands into the cushion of the couch and straightened his posture. Slowly, and without speaking, he stood and turned to face me. He brushed his hair from his face, gazed at me with his thin brown eyes, and moved toward me with an air of confidence.

I stood, frozen in place.

He leaned into me, brushing his cheek along mine lightly until his mouth was against my left ear. My shoulders instinctively raised. Goosebumps formed along my arms. With his warm breath in my ear, I stood there attempting to act unaffected by his approach. Nothing could have been further from the truth. I wanted him to show me just what it was that would wad me into a ball of blubbering flesh, but part of me was afraid.

“Liv, you’re shaking,” he whispered.

A chill ran along my spine. I swallowed heavily, knowing a response was impossible.

As he pulled away from me, his lips parted slightly. I desperately wanted him to kiss me. Halfway between being scared to death and too damned excited to move, I stood and watched his each and every movement as if there was nothing I could do to either join him or prevent him from proceeding. It was something I had spent many drunken evenings thinking about and hoping for, but had always dismissed as nothing more than just that.

Hope.

I stood silently as he moved closer. I waited. I wanted. But more than anything, I wondered. I knew whatever Luke offered me would be enjoyable from a sexual standpoint, but I doubted I was truly prepared. If his ability to fuck me was equal to his ability to surf or fight, I was going to be in trouble. As his chest pressed lightly against mine I closed my eyes and hoped my shaking legs would continue to hold me up.

I could feel his warm breath against my mouth. Eager, I opened my eyes.

He leaned his head to the side at the last moment, brushing his lips lightly past mine. As he pressed his jaw against the side of my face and exhaled lightly against my ear my panties all but burst into flames.

“Take off your shorts, Liv,” he breathed.

An ever so slight tingling in my pussy assured me it was alright to proceed. My hands fell to the waist of my shorts and I fumbled to unfasten the button. A simple task that I did no less than half a dozen times a day all of a sudden became impossible. After finally unbuttoning the shorts, I forced my thumbs underneath my panties and began to press them down my legs.

He didn’t tell me to take off my panties.

For whatever nervous reasons, I wondered if he was testing me.

I released my panties and pushed my shorts down along my thighs until they fell to the floor. With my underwear now riding low on my hips, I stood up and kicked my shorts to the side.

Gracefully, he knelt in front of me. I bit into my bottom lip and watched as he traced his fingers along the top edge of my panties, softly pressing them against my skin from the center of my stomach toward each hip. My eyes fell closed as I felt his fingers slide underneath the bottom lace and follow the fabric until the tips of his fingers rested against the sides of my pussy. As he carefully caressed the skin on the inside of my upper thighs with his thumbs, I released my lip and drew in a sharp unexpected breath.

I was absolutely soaked.

He pulled my panties to the side and I felt his warm breath against my wetness. My eyes shot open and I gasped as his mouth pressed against my swollen mound. With precision, he flicked his tongue against my clit ever so gently. As I embraced the feeling of his tongue teasing me with precision, he pulled away and gazed up at me.

I stood there, trembling, incapable of much more than returning his gaze. My lips parted slightly in anticipation as he reached for the bottom of his shirt and pulled it over his head. As many times as I had seen Luke shirtless at the beach, nothing could have prepared me to see him half-naked and on his knees with his face hovering in front of my wanting pussy.

I gazed down at him filled with wonder. Why, I thought, had we taken so long to decide to give this a try? He reached around me, dug his fingertips into the cheeks of my ass, and pulled me into his face. Again, he encompassed me fully with his lips. I let out an unexpected moan as his tongue began to circle my swollen clit.

Rhythmically, I bucked my hips against his face, fucking his mouth as he carefully flicked my clit with the tip of his tongue.

Quickly, I felt myself begin to peak and closed my eyes. As my moaning rang out into the room, a deep groan escaped his lips and transferred into my wet flesh in mild vibrations. His lips and tongue continued to nibble and work their magic on my nub until a tingling filled me and I bellowed out into the room.

The intensity of the orgasm was unlike anything I had ever experienced. I pulled my hips away from his face and peered down at him, only to see him gazing up, his face covered with my wetness.

Slowly, he stood.

Our lips met. I closed my eyes and allowed myself to become lost in the moment. His tongue danced with mine magically, and along with it came the taste of my orgasm. As we kissed he pulled me firmly against him. With my head spinning and my mind trying to make sense of the situation I had so quickly agreed to become a part of, I kissed him eagerly in return, savoring each and every movement of his lips and tongue. He dragged his nails along my back as he pressed his palms deep against my muscles, his hands coming to a stop at my waist. As I ground my hips against his, I felt his rigid shaft against my leg.