Disclaimer: If you are under 18 or otherwise legally restricted from viewing material of an erotic nature GO AWAY! If you are offended by sexually explicit material why are you here in the first place?
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It had taken a long time for the heart ache to go away, a relationship I thought would be the one tossed aside like yesterday's trash when she grew tired of it. Of course our hanging out with the same people and being part of the same crowd didn't help. I was constantly seeing her, hearing about her latest lover, even being played with by her when she got too drunk at a party.
Eventually though the pain faded and we were able to resume some semblance of our former friendship, I say some semblance because I never did shake the basic love I felt for her. I guess it was always obvious, though no-one ever commented, occasionally I saw her look at me speculatively and with pity.
As time progressed, we began going out to see movies and things together. A natural progression based on the proximity of our homes and workplaces. It was always pretty harmless, a flick, a drink or a few and maybe a night cap at her place. Sad though, I followed along like a puppy, so eager to please but too cautious to make any overt moves.
I guess as we spent more time together, and her relationships continued to fail, she began to pay closer attention to me and the way I was acting. I don't know how long she was thinking about things, or when the idea first occurred to her, but last week she implemented a plan that was to change my life.
It all began innocently enough, with us going to see a movie and then have some dinner and drinks afterwards. The movie was great, we laughed throughout the entire thing, coming out to an excellent dinner and a couple of drinks at a mid scale place, all the while hashing over our favourite parts and laughing uproariously.
After dinner, I walked her back to her place, accepting an invitation to come up for one last drink before calling it a night. In retrospect, the look she gave me should've triggered some sort of wariness, but in the throes of a great evening with a woman I was enamoured with was I in any mood to analyze?
Up at her place I settled in on one end of the couch, beer in hand, while she lounged on the other end. Asking if I minded, she put her feet up onto my lap, swinging her legs up before I had a chance to answer.
"My feet are so sore today," she said, wiggling her toes and stretching her arches, "would you mind giving me a foot rub for a while?" Naturally I was only too happy to, and immediately proceeded to lavish all the attention a pair of hands can give to both of her feet, one after the other and back. She moaned contentedly, shifting one foot forward whenever she wanted me to switch. I jumped slightly as her heel brushed the erection pushing up the front of my jeans, but she didn't seem to notice, leaning back and enjoying the foot massage I was giving her.
Abruptly she pulled back, "Thanks, that was great" she said, rising from the couch with a stretch. "My pleasure" I replied, masking my disappointment. She walked out of the living room, leaving me on the couch, uncomfortably hard and listening to the stereo. A couple of minutes later I hear the toilet flush, and she returns, only now she is wearing a bathrobe.
I remembered that ratty old bathrobe from before, the way it piled up beside the bed, the feel of it sliding from her shoulders and my hard-on grew even stiffer. "I've noticed something, and I think maybe we should talk about it," she whispered to me, leaning over and letting the upper part of her bathrobe slid open, "I want you to answer this honestly."
Mesmerized by the view I merely nodded listening as she continued, "You never really stopped loving me did you? In some ways its worse now than before isn't it?" My eyes widened as she spoke, shock and dismay conflicting with a relief at finally speaking about it. I nodded, unable to answer any other way. "What did you say" she prompted, "I didn't understand your response."
"Yes, you're right" I mumbled unable to meet her eyes. "Right about what?" she demanded, becoming more aggressive. "Right that I still love you," I murmured finally looking up at her, "Right that I never stopped and its even worse now than then."
A slow smile spread across her face, not the warm smile of someone being told they are loved, something more predatory. "You know I don't feel the same way you do," she smiled down at me as though the gut wrenching words were the nicest things she'd said all day, "I know you don't want to hear that but it's the truth." I nodded numbly, a feeling of humiliation creeping over me that she'd manipulated me into actually saying I loved her, only to throw it into my face. "You're probably feeling pretty pissed about me even bringing it up," she continued, letting even more of her breast show through the bathrobe, "There's nothing I can do though, I enjoy your company and all, but I really wouldn't be comfortable sleeping together, that time in our lives is done."
I began to get up, all sense of propriety thrown out in my urgency to leave when she stopped me with a hand on my chest. "I'm not finished yet!" she barked, pushing me back, "As I said, I don't want to sleep with you, but you know I haven't had a regular lay in months, a couple of one night stands and dates that failed after two or three tries. Obviously, I'm horny, and it occurred to me you may be able to help out." She held my eyes as she said this, a knowing look in her eyes, "I wouldn't mind having you go down on me once in a while, to take the edge off as it were."
