Fuck Buddy (4 page)

I pulled my mouth from his and slowly shifted my eyes from his broad chest along his chiseled abdomen and eventually to his waist.

Without speaking, he reached down, untied his shorts, and pushed them to the floor.

A pronounced “V” shape in his lower stomach muscles commanded my focus to fall further, following the “V” to the area it so clearly pointed to. I stared, all but paralyzed by the sight of what was the most beautiful cock I had ever seen. As my mind drifted to thoughts of being filled with something so perfectly shaped, I couldn’t help but wonder if the girth of his third leg would tear me apart.

An unwanted sigh escaped my lungs. With my focus fixed on his thickness, I reached for the bottom of my shirt. I pulled it over my head and reached behind my back. As I awkwardly fumbled with the clasp of my bra, he began to slowly stroke his shaft with his right hand.

With my eyes glued to his insanely large and ever-so-stiff dick, I dropped my bra to the floor. His hand continued to slowly work its way up and down the shaft, all but commanding me to remain focused on the swollen member I had spent so many years fantasizing about. I pushed my panties to the floor.

His free hand gripping my neck startled me. He leaned closer, pressing his bare chest to mine. As we stood with our eyes locked, he slowly rubbed the tip of his swollen cock along my pussy lips.

He stared at me blankly as he pressed the head of his dick against my wet pussy, tapping my clit at the end of each stroke. My heart raced as he tightened his grip on my neck. I had never been choked before, and although I felt some guilt for feeling the way I did, there was something about him doing it that was driving me fucking insane. He studied my eyes through thinning slits, his mouth twisting into a slight smirk with each stroke of his swollen flesh against my wetness.

He released my neck.

I gasped.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

I pursed my lips, swallowed heavily, and nodded.

“I asked you a question, Liv.” He cleared his throat. “Are. You. Ready?”

Without thinking, I reached for my neck and rubbed where his hand had been. What felt like small electric shocks tingled deep within my pussy. He stood before me, stroking his cock as he waited for an answer. Luke. My best friend. My best friend with added benefits.

What the fuck did I get myself into?

I wasn’t ready.

I released my neck and lowered my hand. “Yes.”

I had no idea of what he was going to do, but I knew I wanted him to do something. I had a crush on Luke since we were young, and had spent many hours fantasizing about being with him sexually. Having him stand before me naked had me more excited than I ever would have imagined. As I stood there in the heightened state of sexual bliss, deep in my mind a small bit of fear lingered.

Fear of the unknown.

“Close your eyes,” he said flatly.

As much as I didn’t want to, I did as he asked. The room fell dark. I stood in the silence filled with wonder, excited, and aroused more than I had ever been in my life.

I felt his arm around my thighs. His other arm pressed against my upper back. His warm breath against my ear.

“I’m going to pick you up,” he whispered into my ear.

I pressed my tongue against the roof of my mouth and attempted to swallow. “Okay,” escaped my dry lips as a shaky insincere response.

In an instant, I was upside down, dangling over the floor head-first. His hands gripped my waist firmly and lifted me into a position where my legs dangled over his shoulders and my bare torso was against his. I pressed my hands into his thighs and opened my eyes. His stiff cock twitched in front of my face.

He buried his tongue deep into my pussy, and I arched my back, breathing a moan of pleasure into the room. After a few seconds, I relaxed and I wrapped my lips around his twitching shaft. Slowly, I began to work my mouth along the length of his cock. Thrilled to have Luke’s stiff dick in my mouth, but even more excited at his ability to lick pussy, I tried my best to focus on what I was doing, not what he was doing. A short moment later, and another intense orgasm shook my body to the core.

For once in his life, Luke was wrong. I
was
ready.

Holding me with my legs over his shoulders and my ass in his face, he continued to tongue-fuck me into a weakened mess. Maybe it was part of his plan, I thought. Quite possibly he planned to lick me into a state of being that allowed him to squash me mentally, causing me to revert back to my status of being single and having no sex whatsoever.

Two intense orgasms later, and he lowered me to the floor. Although half-exhausted from reaching repeated climax and dizzy from being suspended upside down over the floor, I was far from being mentally bankrupt.

With his swollen shaft glistening from my saliva, I sat naked on the floor and watched as he began to slowly stroke it in his hand.

A pile of babbling flesh?

I think not.

Without speaking, he lowered himself to the floor and reached for my hips. After turning me over onto my back, he wrapped his arms under my legs and brought my knees to my chest. My pussy now high in the air for the taking, he did just that.

As I felt the pressure against the inner walls of my vagina, I gasped, uncertain of my ability to accept his massive girth. Slowly, cautiously, and with what appeared to be great care, he worked his hips back and forth. Praying for a little relief, I bit against the inside of my lip and stared at his ripped bronze-colored torso. With each
in
stroke, I drew a quick choppy breath, hoping the next would be slightly more pleasurable. Eventually, he slid deep inside of me, causing me to sigh not only in relief, but in a sense of satisfaction I wasn’t sure I had ever felt. With wide eyes I gazed at him, somewhat proud of having accepted his full length. His focus was intense, but he was focused not on me, but on fucking me.

His dark eyes were filled with intensity and determination. Although they looked in my direction, they seemed to peer through me and if not into my soul, certainly well beyond what was on the surface.

“Liv…”

I released my lip from the tight clench of my teeth. “Yes?”

“We’re friends. It has to stay that way. No matter what,” he said.

It seemed to be a strange time to be having the conversation, but I agreed nonetheless. “Uhhm. Yeah, I agree.”

“Ready?” he asked.

For fucking what?

“Sure,” I responded, far more interested at the time in fucking than talking.

Nothing could have prepared me.

He raised his hips, pressed his shoulders into the back of my knees, and gave one last command as I felt the length of his shaft escape me.

He nodded toward my crotch. “Watch.”

“Okay,” I breathed.

Without further warning, he began to pound himself into me, giving me his entire cock with each stroke. My breath escaped my lungs each time his hips slapped against my ass, barking past my lips as a muffled grunt. My one focus, at least initially, was to keep from screaming for him to stop.

By some means of a sexual miracle, a few moments passed without me giving up. Luke’s cock was now hitting spots inside of me that I had no idea even existed. He continued to fuck me without reservation, and seemed to be fully determined to turn me into the pile of babbling flesh he had warned me I would become.

Equally determined to succeed at being his sexual punching bag, I closed my eyes and focused on my cock-filled twat. My nostrils flared as I inhaled a hint of his cologne mixed with the aroma of our sex. Convinced I was going to allow him to punish my pussy until he was completely satisfied he had met his sexual match; I did my best to find a happy place for my mind to reside while he continued.

“Watch!” he bellowed.

Shit.

I opened my eyes and gazed beyond his wide chest, past his washboard abdomen, and between my legs. With his muscular torso a blur, I watched as the tightly stretched skin of his glistening dick disappeared stroke after powerful stroke into my wet and quickly becoming sore pussy.

Somehow, he found the energy to increase his pace. More suited for a sexual run and less prepared for an all-out sprint, my head began to feel light and dizzy.

“I love this tight little pussy of yours,” he said.

I had so much I wanted to say, but found myself incapable of speaking.

With the top of his shaft punishing my clit as he ground his hips against mine, a tingling sensation ran through me from my swollen nub to my nipples. I inhaled a slow breath, well aware – at least for me – that the end was near.

It was coming.

I sank my teeth into my bottom lip and continued the torturous task of watching him take ownership of my pussy. Even though I repeatedly reminded myself we were no more than friends, I couldn’t help but struggle with the fact that I had never been satisfied by a man’s cock as much as I was by Luke’s.

And I was certain I never would be.

I felt my pussy clench against his throbbing shaft, providing its own
thank
you
for being here
moment, but the precursor to my climactic exit did little to slow his pace. Contrary to his demands, I closed my eyes and moaned as I reached a level of climax I had never before encountered.

His pace slowed slightly, his cock swelled, and as I gasped for another gulp of air, he erupted inside of me.

Thank God.

My work was done. Not only had I satisfied him to the point of orgasm, but I had done so without turning into a mindless babbling ball of flesh as he suggested I would. Filled with pride, I blinked and wrapped my arms around him.

As he released my legs, I gazed around the room. Quickly, I became confused. We had been fucking on the floor of the living room, and the last I knew, we were at the end of the couch. Now fifteen feet away, closer to my favorite ottoman, I realized there was only one way we could have traveled so far.

Luke had forcefully fucked me across the entire living room floor.

He collapsed onto me, his bare chest pressing against mine. I closed my eyes and listened as his breathing changed from an irregular pattern to a more predictable even pace. Satisfied that I held up to my end of the sexual bargain, I decided remaining mute about the subject wasn’t exactly my style.

I had gone the distance with the sexual deviant and I needed to claim my successes.

“I’m afraid the back of my ass might be covered in a few rug burns, but I’m not a babbling pile of flesh, Mister,” I said in a sarcastic tone.

He rolled off of me and turned to his side. The corners of his mouth curled into an unapologetic shitty little smile. “Not yet.”

“What does that mean?” I snapped back, still beaming with pride from my accomplishments.

“It means what I said.
Not yet
, Liv. You will. I was just seeing if we fit each other.”

“And?”

He locked eyes with me. “I’d say we’re good to go.”

“Did you have your doubts?”

“Not really,” he responded.

Fuck yes.

“Me neither,” I said.

I rolled to my side, cupped my hand between my legs, and stood. The pain in my shoulders and the top of my butt were all the reminder I needed that I would be covered in rug burns.

As I waddled to the bathroom, I was further reminded of just how big Luke’s cock really was.

And I couldn’t help but wonder what his
not yet
remark would bring with it when the time came. 

CHAPTER FOUR

LUKE

My former girlfriend and I began a relationship at a young age, and it was then that I determined something was wrong with me, sexually speaking, that is. As much as my mind enjoyed the thought of sex, and as pleasing as the mental visions of sex were to me, the act of sex had to either include sadistic thoughts or acts. If for some reason it didn’t, I wasn’t able to perform.

I had my own theories on why I was the way I was, but I wasn’t willing to discuss them with others or attempt to pry deeper into my inner psyche in an effort to resolve issues that were embedded within my being during my childhood.

Embracing who I was and what I enjoyed was much easier, and allowed a no excuses approach to life. I had my reservations, however, on whether or not Liv could accept my sexual desires once they exposed themselves completely.

Five years. It had been five years since I had sex. Liv had no real idea what she was in for, and as much as I loved her as a friend, I had to convince myself with each passing minute that being fuck buddies was the answer to each of our problems. I knew one thing. For it to work, I needed to take matters slow and easy.

Slow and easy wasn’t my strength, unless it was during one of my midnight strolls down along the beach. Sex was something I truly enjoyed, but I only seemed to enjoy it if I was wreaking havoc on my sexual partner.

It seemed surreal to be having sex with Liv. For a lifetime I had placed her in a protective bubble, and as much as I shared with her, I didn’t share everything. My sexual desires and opinions regarding their origin were things I had always kept to myself. As time passed there was no doubt Liv would become aware of what my sexual desires truly were, and I held onto the hope that when the time came she accepted them. If not, it would be apparent our decision to include sex in our friendship was a poor one.

Either way I would be satisfied, my preference leaning slightly toward maintaining the friendship already in place and somehow adding sex to it without sacrificing anything else. Succeeding at it would be difficult, but I was driven by a challenge.

The challenge before me, however, was a much more difficult one than I had faced in some time. I needed to convince Liv not to buy a pair of sandals it appeared she desperately felt she needed. Being her best friend and fuck buddy was rewarding in many respects, but she definitely had her shortcomings, and shoe shopping was a great reminder. 

“Because they’re fucking ugly, that’s why,” I said.

She lifted her foot and gazed down at the sandal. “I think they’re cute.”

“You think they’re cute because they’re on sale. How many pairs of sandals do you have in your closet that you’ve never worn?” I asked, glancing one more time toward the hideous shoe.

“They’re only thirty bucks. Marked down from a hundred,” she said.

“They’re stupid. They’ve got beads all over the straps, and they’re all rectangular and square, and they’ve got sharp edges. They’ll cut your feet to shreds, and they look like shit. They’re marked down because no one wanted them. If something has a yellow ‘SALE’ tag on it, you’ll buy it. You can’t help it. Your closet is full of unworn shit. I swear. Go ahead, buy ‘em. I bet you never wear those ugly fuckers once,” I said, waving my hand toward the open box.

Over the years, Liv and I shopped together quite often. I rarely bought anything, only because I needed very little. My wardrobe consisted of a few pairs of jeans, several pullovers, board shorts, shorts, tee shirts, and a handful of shoes – all of which were worn regularly. Liv, on the other hand, purchased whatever was on sale, regardless of her actual need, and the items piled up in her closet like waste at a landfill. No matter what it was, if it had a ‘SALE’ sticker on it, she had to stop and look at it. Convincing her she didn’t need it was difficult, especially if she saw it as a bargain.

Personally, I believed she shopped the way she did to feel better about herself. Her lack of a male companion in her life caused her to feel inadequate and unattractive. In the past, I let her shop without much opposition from me. For some reason, on this particular day, I felt the need to convince her otherwise.

“What’s ugly about them?” she asked.

I reached for the shoe still sitting in the box. “Everything.”

I held the sandal in my hand and pointed to the sole. What appeared to be a piece of wood was sandwiched between two thin pieces of leather. “Look. The sole is made from a piece of wood and two pieces of leather. It’s not even flexible.”

She shrugged. “So.”

“If this was a sole for a pair of heels, fine. But for a pair of sandals? You want sandals to be flexible. If they’re not, this strap is going to tear your toes up.”

“And these beads?” I drug my finger along the beads that covered the toe strap. “They’ll make sure your toes are torn to shreds. Fuck, just look at them.”

“They’re only thirty bucks, and they’re cute,” she said.

“Give your thirty bucks to that guy on the corner with the harmonica.”

The sales clerk walked past, and as she did, she turned toward us and grinned. I raised my hand to get her attention. “Ma’am, we have some questions.”

“Luke, don’t,” Liv warned.

She stepped to my side, glanced at Liv and shifted her eyes to me. “How can I help you?” 

I held the shoe in front of me and smiled. “Why are these shoes on sale?”

“Excuse me?”

“These shoes. Why are they on sale? The season isn’t over, so why are they on sale? Is there something wrong with them?”

“Oh, no. We’re overstocked,” she said with a smile and a nod.

“See?” Liv said mockingly.

I glanced around the store. No less than two hundred different pairs of shoes were displayed. I glanced at the sale rack behind Liv. Eight pairs of shoes were on sale.

I met her gaze. “Overstocked?”

She nodded and grinned. “Yes.”

“So, when you get shoes in,
new
shoes, do you receive random shipments? Like a hundred pairs of this kind, and fifteen pairs of another? Or do you get roughly the same quantity of each pair?”

She scrunched her nose. “What do you mean?”

“Simple question. When you receive shoes, do you get the same number of pairs of each shoe, roughly?”

She tilted her head to the side and stared as if I was asking trade secrets of the industry.

“I suppose so,” she said.

I tossed the sandal into the box. As I turned toward the sales clerk, I continued. “So if you’re overstocked, it can only be because no one bought this shoe. The shoes that sell well aren’t here on the sale rack, right?”

“We typically sell out pretty quickly of the good shoes,” she said.

I glanced at Liv and grinned. “The good ones?”

“I meant the good selling ones,” she said. “Any other questions?”

“Average women’s shoe size?” I asked.

She smiled. “Eight is the new seven. Size eight.”

“Anything else?”

“No, I think that’s it.”

She turned and walked away. I gazed blankly out the storefront windows toward the
Sephora
across the street. I didn’t need to ask Liv what size shoe she wore, I had bought her enough shoes for Christmas and birthdays that I knew, but I turned to her and asked anyway.

“What size is your foot, Liv?”

She tossed the sandal in the box. “You know it’s an eight.”

“Well, if they’re not even sold out of the most common size, that can only mean one thing, no one is buying them.”

“Well, crap.” She glanced toward the sale rack. “I don’t like any of the others.”

“Do you need another pair of fucking sandals?”

“If they’re 75% off? Yeah.”

I shook my head. She had no less than thirty pairs of shoes in her closet that were still in boxes, and had yet to be worn. Loose in her closet and scattered about her home she had to have another one hundred pair if she had one. She needed another pair of shoes like I needed another fucking surfboard.

I turned toward the door. “Come on. Let’s go across the street.”

“What’s across the street?”

“Sephora,” I said. “Let’s go spend that thirty bucks on makeup.”

“Are you saying I need new makeup? Do I look bad?” she asked as she fumbled to put her shoe on.

She shifted her eyes to the floor.

“No, you look fabulous.”

Liv was many things. She was funny, caring, kind, giving, trustworthy, responsible, and passionate about what she believed in. But, above all, Liv was beautiful. Her beauty was so deeply engrained that it was easily overlooked by passersby, but not by me. Most people didn’t realize just how beautiful she was until they took time to try and find a fault in her appearance. By the time they found nothing, they realized she was a remarkably attractive woman.

Her level of humility allowed her to be attractive without effort or even the knowledge that her beauty existed.

Still standing there with her eyes fixed on the floor in front of her, she seemed sad. I lifted her chin with my index finger until her gaze met mine. “You always look fabulous. You’re beautiful, Liv. I was thinking maybe one of the artists could show you something they have to help accentuate your natural beauty. Let’s go over and just look around.”

She beamed with pride and her mouth curled into a smile. “That might be fun.”

“I tell you what,” I said. “We go over there and you buy some new makeup, and when we get back to your place, I’ll make you sit in the corner and babble to yourself. How’s that?”

She grinned until her upper lip thinned so much it revealed her teeth. “Sounds like we’re going to Sephora.”

The makeup would make her feel better about herself. Making her a babbling mess would satisfy me greatly, and hopefully the satisfaction would last for some time.

In my mind the trade was a win-win.

Time, however, would tell if she agreed.