A Loving Breafast

I had just finished drying my hair when the doorbell rang. Fully expecting another missionary of some type but hoping I was wrong, I pulled on my terrycloth robe and padded barefoot to the door. Placing my eye to the peephole, I was greeted by my friend Andrew looking back with one of his silly grins. Smiling myself, I pulled open the door.

"Andrew, what are you doing here this morning?"

"I brought breakfast," he said, holding up a white paper bag and two paper cups. "Coffee, muffins, and fresh strawberries from the Farmers' Market."

I pushed open the screen door. "But you don't drink coffee."

Andrew stepped through the doorway and wrapped his arms around me in our familiar friendly greeting. "Good morning, Julie. I see you're as beautiful as ever." A soft kiss on the cheek, which I returned, and then he stepped away.

"Oh, and mine's hot chocolate. Where should I put it?"

"In the breakfast nook. I'll get plates and cups."

"The drinks are already in cups."

"You know I hate those paper things. They make the coffee taste funny. You can drink your chocolate out of that nasty thing if you want. I'm using a real cup."

"Same old Julie," he said with a smile that lit up his eyes.

"Yep. And you don't change either."

He headed off to spread the feast on the table and I headed to the cupboard for plates, cups, and utensils. Leave it to Andrew to show up unannounced when I least expect him, just when I'm about to start feeling sorry for myself. He never fails to cheer me up.

"So what brings you to my door on a Saturday morning?"

"Oh, you know how it is. I ran out of willing ladies and was hoping you'd introduce me to a few more of your friends."

"Yeah, right. You could get all the action you wanted, if you wanted it. I've seen the way women, including my mom, fawn over you. Besides, you wouldn't want my friends telling me any stories."

He was sitting at the table, the food spread out in the middle. I sat down, poured my coffee from the paper cup into my real cup, and grabbed a muffin.

"So, really. What are you doing here? I figured you'd be out at the lake with Andrea. Or maybe in bed with Andrea," I said with a little grin. "You two sure were affectionate the last time I saw you."

Thirty years old and Andrew still blushes if I make even a passing reference to sex.

"Oh, Andrea and I split up. She said she was tired of competing with other women. I just don't get it. I never even looked seriously at another women while we were dating."

"No, Andrew, you don't get it, even after all this time. Women like you. You're kind and sweet and respectful and helpful and..."

"You make me sound like a Boy Scout."

"Well, in some ways you are. You're smart and witty and you genuinely like women. They see that, and so did Andrea. She knows that there are lots of women who would do anything for a little attention from you."

"Yeah, right. Then why am I alone so often?"

"Because you choose to be, you idiot. Anyway, even if all that stuff wasn't true, you're still incredibly cute. If we weren't such good friends I'd jump you myself."

He blushed again. "Come on, Julie. We tried that once, remember? We didn't make it beyond the first kiss."

"That was ten years ago. We were both drunk and both involved with somebody else. You know that would have ruined our friendship."

"Yeah. I know. And we've been afraid of it ever since, even when we weren't dating somebody else. Besides, you're the best friend I've ever had. I wouldn't want to ruin that with a quick fling."

"And you wonder why women adore you," I said, shaking my head. "But you didn't answer my question. Why are you here?"

"Can't I just come visit my friend? Honestly, when I was out running this morning I realized that I hadn't seen you in a while. I figured I'd come surprise you with breakfast, see what you were up to and maybe hang out, see a movie, or go cut up like high school kids at the mall."

"You could have called," I said, knowing full well what his response would be.

"It wouldn't have been a surprise then."

"But what if I had company?"

"Then I would have been embarrassed that I didn't bring enough for three. Anyway, I figured it was safe since I didn't see Josh's car in the driveway. I wouldn't want him getting suspicious again."

I went cold at the mention of Josh. "I haven't seen him in three weeks. Not since I went to his apartment to surprise him when I got off work early one day and found him in bed with some bimbo."

Andrew's eyes bugged out and he nearly spit hot chocolate across the table. "What? You're kidding!"

"No, I'm not kidding. I walked in the apartment and heard Josh talking in the other room. I figured he was on the phone. God, this is so embarrassing. I slipped off my shoes, skirt, and blouse, and walked back to his bedroom clad only in my bra and panties. I was going to tease him while he was on the phone and then..."

"I get the picture, Julie. You don't need to describe it." There he went getting all embarrassed again.

"Okay. So I stepped into his room with a big sexy smile on my face and stopped dead in my tracks. Josh was on his back with this cute little blonde straddling him, his face buried between her obviously fake and unimaginably huge tits. I stood there dumbstruck for a few seconds until she saw me and stopped bouncing up and down on his dick. He looked at me and said, 'Oh, shit,' just as I turned on my heel and ran out. By the time I had my skirt and blouse on, he was coming down the hall with his hardon leading the way. 'Julie,' he said.

"With one hand on the doorknob and my shoes in the other, I looked right at him and said 'Don't even bother.' I haven't seen him since then. He couldn't very well come running after me naked across the parking lot, and he hasn't had the balls to call."

"Oh, Julie. Why didn't you call me?"

"You don't need to hear about my problems."

"Come on! How many times have I cried on your shoulder after a breakup? I bet I've spent the night on your couch a half dozen times after you got me good and sloppy drunk while convincing me it's for the best."

"Yeah, like two years ago after...what was her name? The one I called Amazon?"

"Cynthia," he said softly. "You really saved me that time."

"I still can't believe you were sleeping with her for six months and didn't know she was married."

"Nope. Not until the morning she rolled over and said she was going back to her husband."

"I still think I should have got you laid that night."

"It's a little hazy in my mind, but I seem to recall that I tried."

"Yeah, with me! You had all night to hit on my friends and you didn't even look at anybody. Then, about 30 seconds before you passed out on the couch you tried to grab my ass. Oh, yeah, that sure turned me on."

Andrew went beet red. "Well, you should have called me. You always have before. "

"I know, but I was embarrassed. I didn't want you saying 'I told you so.'"

Andrew smiled. "Yeah, I always thought he was a prick. Anybody who introduces himself as 'Joshua-Templeton-Green-but-my-friends-just-call-me-Josh' is an idiot. And an asshole."

I had to laugh. The expression on his face and his delivery perfectly mimicked Josh's officious air. "Okay. Point taken. If it ever happens again, I'll call."

"You better."

I stood up and leaned over, taking Andrew's face in my hands and kissing him squarely on the lips. When I pulled away he looked straight at me, his eyes a little glazed over. "What was that for?"

"For being the best possible friend I could ever have," I said, looking away quickly. I'm so uncomfortable with words sometimes.

When I looked back, I noticed that Andrew's gaze had dropped slightly. Looking down, I saw that the belt had loosened and my robe had fallen open, partially revealing my breasts. Gathering the robe together, I tugged the belt tighter and slapped Andrew playfully on the shoulder. "Same old Andrew."

"And you're as beautiful as ever."

"You always say that."

"Only because it's true. Sit back down."

"Hold on. I'm going to get some whipped cream." We'd been nibbling on the muffins and sipping our drinks while we talked. Only the strawberries were left.

"I'll get some water."

Andrew gathered the dishes on the table and carried them to the sink. Grabbing two glasses, he filled them from the filtered water dispenser and carried them back to the table. He smiled again at me as we sat back down.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. I was just thinking."

"What?"

"Nothing. Here." He sprayed some whipped cream over the strawberries and held one up for me. I parted my lips and took it from his fingers, tasting the sweet cream and then biting down on the strawberry to let the taste flood my mouth. I licked my tongue across my lips to clean off the remains of the whipped cream.

"Yum."

I picked up a strawberry and held it up for Andrew. "Remember the first time we did this?"

"Uh huh." He opened his mouth and took the whole thing in, his lips partially covering my fingers and his teeth nipping them lightly. I pulled them back.

"Hey!"

He grinned as he chewed the strawberry.

"It was at Mary Stephens' 16th birthday party and her fresh strawberry cake. Who came up with the idea of everybody pairing off and feeding each other strawberries?"

"Probably Anna. You know, the mousy one? She was always trying to get us girls to do what she called 'sexy things.' I think she was a closet lesbian."

"Anna Reed? In college they called her 'Always Ready.' I saw her a few years ago walking around downtown with her three kids. You wouldn't believe that beautiful woman used to be mousy Anna Reed. She married Tommy Parkinson."

"Tommy? I was dating him when we had the strawberry cake party. He's the first boy I ever kissed."

Andrew grabbed another strawberry and fed it to me, but this time I think he purposely smeared a bit of the whipped cream on my lips.

"Yeah, I remember. He got mad when you and I were paired up. I guess he thought that I was trying to get under your skirt. Although I don't remember him complaining about the girl he was paired with."

"Of course he did," I said with a mouthful of juicy strawberry. "She had big knockers and all I had were these little bumps."

"Well I think your 'little bumps' are beautiful," said Andrew, leaning over and kissing me softly on the lips, licking off the whipped cream he'd purposely smeared there before sitting back down, his eyes locked on mine.

I shivered unexpectedly. Such a little thing, that kiss: playful and non-threatening like we'd kissed a hundred times before during our long friendship. Well, except for the tongue on the lips. That's pretty rare. Anyway, this morning it was different somehow. Tender and sweet, like a lover's soft embrace. I sat there just looking through him, reliving that brief contact in my head.

"Are you okay Julie?" He kept staring at me.

"Huh?"

"Where'd you go?"

"Oh, sorry. I was just remembering. That was so long ago." I could feel my face get hot. There was something new in his look. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

He smiled and averted his gaze. "Like what?"

"Never mind. How much of that cake did we eat, and how much did we take home smeared all over our clothes?"

"Or our faces."

Andrew got serious. "Did you know that you were the first girl I ever kissed? I'll always remember that party: feeding each other strawberries, smearing the cake and whipped cream on your face after somebody else started a food fight, hugging you to trap your arms so you couldn't throw any more at me, and then falling into that kiss. Heck, I hardly even knew you before that night."

"It might not be the best kiss I ever had, but it sure was the most fun. And the messiest."

"Why did you give me your phone number, anyway? You were already going out with Tommy."

"A girl's got to keep her options open."

"Ha!"

"I don't know. You seemed like a nice guy to me. And I turned out to be right, didn't I? We've been friends ever since then."

"Well, I don't know about the nice guy part. But, yeah, you've been my best friend ever since."

"To best friends," I said, grabbing a strawberry from the bowl and making sure to get a good glob of whipped cream on it. Leaning forward, I presented it to Andrew, but when he opened his mouth to take it I "slipped" and smeared whipped cream all over his cheek.

"Hey! You did that on purpose!"

"Did not!"

He grabbed my wrist and pulled my hand to his mouth, snatching the strawberry out of my fingers with his teeth. "Did so."

With him still holding my wrist, I leaned over and licked the mess on his cheek. He turned his head, smeared it across my cheek, and we both were trying to lick the whipped cream off the other's face. Somewhere in that tangle our tongues met and our lips touched. I threw myself into the kiss, my hands on either side of his face, tasting the strawberry juice and whipped cream on his lips, closing my eyes and surrendering to his probing tongue and the insistent pressure of his lips.

A thought went through my head: "What are you doing? This is Andrew!" I broke our kiss suddenly, standing straight and looking down at him, my body flushed, breathing hard, taking in the bewildered look on his face.

"Julie?" He was pleading with his eyes.

"Don't say anything, Andrew. I need to..."

"Julie, you should cover..." A smile started to form on his face.

"I said be quiet! I need to think."

"Julie," he said more quietly, "please pull your robe together."

I looked down. My belt had loosened again and my breasts were in full view, the hard nipples telegraphing my excitement quite clearly. Andrew was looking into my eyes and then longingly at my breasts.

"But I thought you said that my 'little bumps' are beautiful."

He reached up and pulled my robe together. "They are," he said. "Now tie your belt."

I tied my belt and sat back down, trying to figure out what had just happened. Andrew had a faraway look now and seemed to be concentrating on something, almost like he was trying to make up his mind.

"Andrew, what's wrong?"

"Do you remember when we were 19 and you came home after your first year in college? You called me the morning after you got back and we spent the whole day together." He looked at me intently, almost as though he was willing me to remember.

"I remember. The ice cream shop, wandering the mall, water skiing at the lake, talking and laughing like we did all during high school. What's this all about?"

"Was that a good day?"

"Yes. I was so happy to be back home and to see you again. It was a great day. "

"The best, Julie. That was the best day of my life. By the time I walked you home, I knew that I was in love with you."

"What? You don't mean...?"

"Yes, that's exactly what I mean. Since that day I've known that I wanted you for more than a friend, to be mine only. To share everything with you."

"But why...?"

"Why didn't I say anything? Because you were in love with somebody else."

"But twelve years?"

"Julie, having you as a friend is better than not having you at all, even if every time I see you with another guy is torture. After that night of the drunken kiss, I was afraid that if I told you how I felt, you'd stop being my friend."

"I wouldn't do that."

"Are you sure? What if I got up and left right now? Would you call? Would you invite me over and get me drunk so that I can forget my one true love? Try to get me interested in one of your friends? Or would you shut me out, afraid of the feelings I have for you?"

"Andrew, I...this is all so sudden."

"I'm sorry." He stood up, preparing to leave. "I shouldn't have said anything. I love you, Julie." He leaned over and kissed me softly on the forehead, then stood straight and began to walk past me.

"Andrew, sit down right now!" I stood up, grabbed his shoulders, and pushed him back down onto the chair. "We're going to talk this through." I sat down and looked straight into his eyes.

"Did you plan this? Did you intend to drop this on me today?"

He sighed, meeting my gaze. "No. I just came over to surprise you, hoping we could spend the day together because we hadn't seen each other in so long."

"So why bring this up now?"

"I don't know. Just remembering how we met, I guess, and thinking how I've loved you for so long. And then when your robe fell open, revealing something I've fantasized about for so many years. It was all too much."

He was lost, searching my eyes for some kind of sign that I understood. There was hope there too. Hope that I shared his feelings. And I did, I realized. Andrew had been my best friend for almost 15 years. We shared our dreams and hopes, and confided in each other. He always had a shoulder for me to cry on, and was always available when I needed somebody to talk to. He was everything I ever wanted in a man, and I understood then that all the guys I'd dated and slept with were poor imitations. Each had some of Andrew's qualities, but only the man sitting in front of me, a lovelorn look in his eyes, had them all.

"You've fantasized about me?"

He turned beet red. "Well, I ... forget I said that."

It suddenly dawned on me. "So that's why you always got so quiet and embarrassed when I discussed sex."

He leaned back, resignation on his face. "I love you, Julie. I have for years. Every time you talk about sex, I think of us together." He was totally open to me, his soul laid bare.

I stood up and let my robe fall open again, revealing my breasts. "Like this?"

"Julie, don't. Please? Don't tease me. "

I stepped forward; my feet on either side of his outstretched legs, and sat down in his lap. Lowering my mouth to his, I whispered, "Who's teasing?"

Our lips met softly and he responded. I held it there for a few seconds; sharing the first kiss with the man I'd loved for so long but didn't know it. He grabbed my shoulders with his hands, holding me gently before pushing me away.

"What?"

"Are you sure about this, Julie? I couldn't bear..."

"Shut up, okay? It took you twelve years to tell me something I should have been able to see long ago, and to show me that I've loved you all that time, too. I never fantasized about you because you were unreachable; the one man in my life who had everything I wanted but who I couldn't have. But now that I know I can, I'm going to have you. Forever. So just shut up and kiss me."

He pulled me down and wrapped his arms around me. Our mouths met softly, lips pliant, tasting each other, the strawberries and whipped cream. His lips parted and I felt his tongue probing, finding mine. Our mouths parted and we moaned together, eyes closed, his hands moving under my robe, my skin jumping at his touch. I sat harder in his lap, feeling his erection, reaching down to grab the tail of his shirt. Breaking our kiss briefly as I pulled the shirt over his head, collapsing against him, kissing more deeply, my breasts pressed against his muscular chest.

How long the kiss lasted, I don't know. Fifteen years of love and friendship, longing and desire, expressed in this one moment. Bodies pressed together, hands and fingers touching, exploring, each of us moaning as our tongues danced. I pulled away and kissed his cheek, his nose, his forehead. I was crying. Tears of joy. He took my head in his hands, kissed the tears, and then covered my mouth with his once again. The kiss was eternity. Or was it just an instant? I wanted it never to end, always to be here in his lap, lost in his embrace.

Too soon, our first kiss as lovers was over. I sat there looking down into his flooding eyes, tears streaking my own face. He moved his hands up and pushed the robe off my shoulders, sliding it down my arms and off, letting it pool on his outstretched legs. His hands at my waist caused new shivers. I sat naked above him, watching as he adored my body. "Julie..."