Author's notes: This is my first attempt at writing a short story, please give both positive and constructive feedback and rate the submission at the conclusion of reading. I may also note that grammar is British English as opposed to American.
Disclaimer: all people in this story are over the age of 18, characters are based on figments of my imagination; any resemblance to people true and living is purely coincidental.
*****
I'm not even sure why I got on that plane. No, I lied. Subconsciously I knew the reason behind it. If there was any remote chance of seeing her again, I would take any necessary action. To hell with the consequences, I thought to myself.
I first met her when I was in 4th grade. She was the most beautiful creature I'd ever seen. I know right, sounds corny. Can you blame me? I was 12 years of age; I hadn't seen much. She moved in with her grandparent's after being orphaned rather suddenly. A tragic car accident killing her mother and father instantly. The knowledge it was never meant to happen and the loss of life was due to a drunk driver, made the grief all the more consuming.
Her name was Alison. She was seated next to me in science. We hit it off instantly, her being a bit of a tomboy and all, we could strongly relate to each other. From then on we were rarely separated. Like two peas in a pod. We would play tag, climb trees, ride bikes and talk about anything and everything.
At the age of 16 everything started to change. I saw her differently. She was no longer that gangly little tomboy. She was developing into a woman. She was still the kind hearted, down to earth, charismatic girl, but her lanky figure had been traded in for a figure a supermodel would envy; dark red tresses, clear blue eyes, a subtle but mischievous smile, her breasts; a perfect handful, her hourglass figure emphasising the full curve of her womanly hips and that deliciously full arse. Her long toned legs tapered down perfectly to the most delicate calves and ankles. It hit me like a tonne of bricks. My best friend was gorgeous. I was hopelessly in love and lust with my best friend.
Senior year was stressful; I was boxing and studying my arse off for the chance of a scholarship at one of the state's top universities. However, one day in senior year I noticed something different. She was withdrawn. This wasn't unusual as all the students were beginning to feel the pressure of impending exams.
This time I knew it was more than that, I saw the bruises and her tender side, I saw the way she was limping and trying to keep a brave face. I asked her to tell me how it happened, but she came up with a weak excuse, telling me she tumbled down the stairs. Right? There was only one small set of stairs at her grandparents' house. It was highly improbable a fall from those steps would cause that much damage. I accepted the cover story however, I was internally sceptical and was vigilant for anymore scars or bruises.
Weeks passed with the usual mundane activity. One afternoon after school I went over to her house, her grandparents were out, indicated by the absence of a car. As I approached, I heard yelling from her brother and the sound of Alison screaming. Then suddenly a dull thud and ear piercing crack. I hurriedly located the spare key and opened the door. There she was, unconscious with a severely broken arm. Incited by rage, I bashed the living shit out of her brother. My boxing skills came in handy; he would be nursing a broken jaw and a black eye for a few weeks.
It turns out; all people deal with grief differently, this was his way apparently. He had become violent towards Alison whenever he was having a bad day and his grandparents weren't home. If she even breathed too loudly it could initiate an episode of rage. Like an epiphany, it all occurred to me. The days of sudden withdrawal and depression were accompanied by physical soreness. She always put it down to falls at gymnastics and stress of senior year and I never batted an eyelid. I was too absorbed in my own plans that I failed to protect the woman I loved.
I rushed her to the hospital. A few hours after admission she was carted off into surgery to remodel the broken bone. I was told she would be fine, just tenderness from surgery on the forearm. I clearly remember her waking up. She instantly started wailing and sobbing. I consoled her. Her head was resting on my shirt, her tears washing away the anguish. She told me she never said anything because her brother was considered the golden child. He was school captain, athletic and crowned Dux. The grandparents would never even consider it. However, when the parents were away he would take out his frustration on Alison. He warned her with the threat of more violence if she told anyone. Fucking coward.
At the conclusion of her stay, I informed my parents of her situation. They supported me one hundred percent in my plan. Dad was wealthy and had agreed to pay rent of an apartment close to the university if I was awarded a scholarship for boxing. I proposed Alison move in with me, just as roommates, rent free at the commencement of the New Year.
And so it was. Alison decided to take a gap year and work two jobs to save up funds for University, while I commenced my first year majoring in business. Our schedules were different and opportunities for deep and meaningful conversation were scarce.
However, every Friday night was the sacred pizza and movie night. Without fail every Friday we would snuggle on the couch, watch a movie and just talk. We would talk about anything from our deepest hopes, fears, and aspirations to the local sport news. Sometimes we would even stay silent. Words not necessary, just comfortable in each other's arms. Soul mates.
These movie nights were a double edged sword for me. It was by far the best day of my week. In summer it became harder as the nightwear became skimpier. The pressing of her firm breasts and womanly hips would drive me or at least parts of me, to insanity. She would always notice the bulge in my lap and remark with a cheeky comment along the lines of, "someone is happy to see me." I'm almost certain she heard me many a time pleasuring myself at the conclusion of the movie nights.
A year flew past and Alison was finally ready to commence her studies. In the end she picked the same bachelor as me, business. This meant we spent most of our time together, me teaching her the previous unit's material. I had no social life outside of university, but hey, I was spending more quality time with the woman I loved.
I graduated two years later on a sunny February morning and was set to commence work at an accounting firm in early March. Life was hectic never the less, but Alison scheduled her timetable to enable me to pick her up every day after university. This wasn't exactly romantic, but any opportunity was a good one. Friday night movie nights were becoming more interesting, the cuddling more intimate and the mutual flirting more persistent.
The following year it was her turn to graduate. I never felt prouder than to watch the girl who lived across the street from me, overcome so many difficulties to graduate and become the woman she was today. Our birthdays were within a week of each other and I decided to go all out for her 21st birthday and graduation present.
I booked a fortnight off work and arranged a skiing holiday. We spent seven days on the snow and four days taking in the sights. It was like we were a couple. We would have snow fights, we found ourselves holding hands in public, the stares more frequent and hugs more intimate and increasing in duration.
Near the conclusion of the trip I planned a day of extravagance. She was sent to a day spa. There she was pampered and got her hair and nails done. I had already ordered her evening gown. I took her measurements when she had worked late one night back home and I was sure she was going to look a million bucks. I spent the day visiting a friend in the area and with an hour till dinner I started to get ready. I must say I looked sharp. My lean boxer's physique filled out my charcoal grey suit quite nicely. Clean shaven. My navy tie and my clear blue eyes a sleek contrast to the grey of my suit.
At 7:30 p.m. I was waiting outside the hotel when the limousine turned up. I was like a groom to be, a nervous wreck, heart hammering in my chest. She looked stunning. Her wavy hair flowed down to the midline of her bare back. Lipstick a rich red matching her natural hair colour perfectly. An elegant black dress with a moderate cleavage, but just enough to leave the rest to the imagination. The black material tracing the womanly curves of her generous hips and exquisite arse, cascading down to her three inch heels. Simply elegant. Upon seeing her dazzling smile and taking her arm in mine, I felt the nervous tension ease. This was my best friend, the same girl I grew up with.
The uninterrupted views of the lake and mountains provided a romantic backdrop for a wonderful evening with great company. The fine Italian cuisine and service made the evening one of the more memorable of my life so far. We talked about anything and everything from sport to current love interests. We both admitted we had fallen for someone, but didn't want to disclose names.
We made it back to the hotel room where we began to sway to the soft jazz music. Holding each other tightly. Our groins rubbing against each other. Her head resting on my chest. I could smell her sweet scent, a combination of her natural body odour, her perfume and her arousal. It was intoxicating.
After the last song of the night I separated from her embrace and gazed into those amazing blue eyes that were so familiar to me. I leaned in and kissed those sumptuous red lips, chastely at first, transforming into something more passionate and lustful once her tongue traced over my lips. With every inch of willpower I possessed I turned her loose and whispered "sweet dreams Ali," giving her firm ass a parting caress and playful swat.
Hours later, with my mind still in a whirl, I lay awake trying to process the information. And then I heard it, the faint moans and whimpers of a woman pleasuring herself. It was the most sensual and erotic thing I had ever heard. I thought I heard her call out my name. I wasn't going to take any chances; I would ask her out on a date in the following weeks after our return. Or so I planned...
The funny thing with plans is they almost never run smoothly. This was not to be the exception.
Two days after returning home Alison received a phone call; her grandma had suddenly had a heart attack and passed away. Her grandfather's health was also steeply declining, so it was decided she would move back in with him and permanently care for him. The funeral was a solemn occasion and we held hands for the entire service.
After the wake she asked me to come back with her to the house to talk. She put her grandfather to bed, and then joined me to cuddle on the couch. She wept away all her grief and sorrow wrapped up in my arms. Her face pressed to my chest as I rubbed her back and attempted to soothe her. We must have sat there for hours, but I didn't care, there was nothing worse than seeing the girl who I loved, hurting like this. She turned me loose and stared deeply into my eyes as if trying to read my innermost thoughts. "Why are you so good to me James?"
"Because a girl like you deserves to be happy." I sealed the goodbye with a soft kiss on the cheek.
As I was leaving, she tugged me by arm. She wrapped her body against mine and said "don't leave James; I need someone to hold me tonight. I need you to tell me it's going to be all right."
I sat there nervously biting my lip as Alison showered; thinking about the sleeping arrangements, I only had my suit. So against my better judgement, I slipped into bed nude. To my absolute horror she dropped the towel and slipped into bed without one stitch of clothing on her. Having a gorgeous redhead, cuddled up next to you is not normally a bad thing, but the circumstances were less than desirable. She shuffled in closer till her slender back was resting against my chest. My face was buried in her red tresses and my lips pursed to her neck. She purred and giggled as I gave her a light peck there. My member was nestled in between her thighs and the soft curls of her mound. I could feel the slight dampness of her sex pressing against my hard shaft. This only served to make me harder.
