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“Y-you’re, you’re making a mistake,” you said breathlessly now that Emma had reached over her seat to place a kiss against your neck. A flush of warmth overcame you.
Ever since middle school, you’ve always harbored a crush on your best friend, but you knew things wouldn’t go anywhere because she had eyes only for Draken.
“Ken and I got into a fight again,” she murmured in between more desperate kisses. God, she smelled amazing. The irresistible scent of her Juicy Couture perfume drove you crazy. Even more so when she had on that peach-pink lip gloss that was sticky-sweet against your neck. Her lips trailed low and lower still, whispering towards your exposed collarbone.
Dammit. You couldn’t focus.
“Let’s go inside and talk about it.” As much as you wanted her, you didn’t want to take advantage of her sadness. You loved her more than anything in the world, but a simmering desire stirred in your stomach and you couldn’t contain it if she kept this up any longer.
She broke away from you. With a French manicured finger, she traced little hearts and clouds against your thigh. She had a habit of doing that whenever she was lost in thought, drawing invisible shapes against your body like you were her mood board. “I don’t want to talk,” she said.
You placed a hand over hers. She froze and looked up at you with glossy eyes. You wanted to kiss away her tears before they fell. To catch her heart before it shattered.
“What do you want, then?” you asked.
“Isn’t it obvious? I want you.” She pulled away and sighed. “What was I thinking? Of course, you don’t want me like that.” A bitter laugh escaped her lips. “I know I’m beautiful. I turn any man’s head whenever I walk down the street. But with Ken… it’s like I’m invisible! What’s wrong with me?”
“Nothing!” you said too emphatically. She was impetuous and reckless and sweet and that was what made her so amazing. How could anyone not see that? The very suggestion that your friend was unremarkable made your blood boil.
“Then don’t leave me tonight.” Emma begged, voice dead with defeat. She rested her head against your shoulder. “I need you.”
It was in the darkness of your home that Emma transformed into a different person. She grasped your shoulders and kissed you deeply. The sheer force is dizzying. Bruising. No one ever consumed you like this before, as if you were about to disappear any second. Then again, she wasn’t really holding you, but the man who broke her heart.
You stumbled backward onto a couch. Or maybe she pushed you. You can’t be sure. Excitement and longing and lust made everything hazy. The golden street lights filtering through the blinds catch in her honey blonde hair. You brush the locks out of her face. She straddled your lap and stripped off her sweater, revealing a lacy white under-wire bra. Your heart raced. Your first instinct was to look away, which you did until Emma stopped you. She cupped your chin between a thumb and forefinger.
“Look at me,” she commanded softly. “Do you like what you see?”
You nodded.
“Do you want to touch me?”
“Yes.” The word came out hoarse, so parched were you to run your tongue all over her.
She smiled. “Unclasp my bra.”
You followed her instructions. The bra dropped to the floor and her breasts, round and full like fat raindrops, bounced from their restraints. She laughed, seeing you marvel at them until you closed your mouth over one of her hard nipples. Just like that, Emma crumbled. If you were hornier, the sound of her moans would’ve been enough to make you climax.
You gave each breast equal love, squeezing, nibbling, and kissing. Emma’s body arched against yours in response. She moved her hips, rocked them. Your panties never felt so slicker. It took every inch of restraint not to push her face against your clothed cunt. The urge died as she smothered your face with her breasts. You didn’t stand. Not as she unbuttoned your blouse and tore off your bra. Not even when she rubbed her stiff nipples against your own, furthering the unprecedented amount of stimulation you couldn’t handle.
As if knowing you were nearing your breaking point, she got off of the couch and sunk to her knees before you. Her lips curved into a naughty smirk as she slid your panties down. Just enough to drink in the sight of your wetness that betrayed your want for her.
Her breath tickled your thighs. She tore them apart.
With her tongue, she drew a long line along your pussy. You squirmed. This shouldn’t have felt so good. Especially when she drew careful patterns against your clit like you were art in the making.
Heart, cloud, heart. Triangle.
Circle. Star.
Cloud. Triangle.
Heart.
Circle. Circle. Circle, circle, circle, circle…!
You grabbed a fistful of her hair and let out a cry, the sound pleading and pathetically tortured. She plunged her tongue inside you, thrusting. Thoughts came crashing down.
Your body writhed against her. Your hips convulsed. Like a blown candle, the orgasm was there and gone. Marks of her desire trailed your body, the only evidence of your friend having ever fucked you. ‘Fuck’. It was too vulgar a word to describe this. You couldn’t call it love-making, though. That word was reserved to lovers. Husbands.
Emma’s lips glistening with infidelity. She licked them. Her gaze darkened with a sexual appetite that left you shivering. It traveled up your body, devouring every inch of you. This wasn’t the sweet girl you grew up with. This was a woman who harbored secrets and you became one of them.
“Ready for more?” she asked.