Just Friends

There's a saying that a girl will never find a guy who is "just a friend", that every guy thinks about having sex with the girl he's talking to. I'd say that's true, but it sells short our ability to control ourselves and play the game called civilisation, society, community.

She was part of the group. More a part than I, and not just because she'd known most of them for longer. There's chatting about people, behind the scenes, that I wasn't a part of. A network of information sharing, opinion forming and concensus building that would make the World Trade Organisation green with envy at it's efficiency. (Or at least that's the impression I always get ;-) )

But I digress. She was part of the group and I slowly worked my way in as well, through humour and wit; through not being too pushy; through making friends with the right people; through playing the game.

We'd gotten together once - ducked off (not too inconspicuously, and I still have to grin at the memory) and spent a short but great time together. Touching and kissing, we explored each other with the vigour and glee of two naughty kids.

We started slowly. I kissed her. She kissed me back. Our kisses got harder and deeper. My hand on the back of her head, fingers entwined in her hair, pulling her back so I could kiss her neck, nibble on her ears. The slow disrobing: kissing every inch of breast and shoulder and side and waist as it's revealed. My mouth hot on her body, tracing out the lines of every joint. My tongue making trails leading towards nipples, towards pussy. Trails for my lips to follow with kisses and caresses. The end of each trail a reward, and a place to stay and play.

She wanted to taste herself on me. I wanted her to taste the both of us together. My tongue and fingers massaging her pussy lips and clit and g-spot, building her up and up and up. My cock rock hard, waiting nervously like a race horse at the gates, twitching and foaming at the mouth. My mouth moved from her pussy to her face, the kiss the same for either lips. Deep, hard, passionate, and exploring every pore with my tongue. Sucking on her lips and clit, her mouth and tongue. Then breaking off the kiss and pushing her up against a wall, lifting her up, sliding my cock against her heat, her flood. Sliding myself in. Engulfed ... enraptured.

Our fucking was as hard and deep as our panting breaths, and I came stronger in the reality of it than I ever had in my fantasies about her. I went down again, and came up with our juices mingling on my tongue for her to taste, as we'd wished.

But that one time was all too short, and then we both had to go, parting with a kiss and a hug and the taste of sex.

The next time I hadn't sorted out my boundaries yet. I was with someone else, and we held off. Then I didn't see her for a while, and when I finally did she was with someone else. I wonder if it was as hard for her when I wasn't available, wasn't responding to her jokes, her moves.

Last night we met up again with the group. No question of whether I was or wasn't thinking about sex. I was there with my friend, and we played up hard. An exhibit in the hot tub. Passionate, erotic, public fucking. But she would only watch. My smoldering glances invited her to break her promises, to join us in our slow primal dance of lips and tongues, of kisses and bites, of touching and grasping, of hot and cold, contrast, passion, need, lust. She sat and watched. I kissed and played and fucked, and stole glances at her when I could. She yearned but held.

And later that night we parted again with a hug and a kiss, but not our taste. Oh how I lust...

There's a saying that a girl will never find a guy who is "just a friend", that every guy thinks about having sex with the girl he's talking to. I'd say that's true, but I think that girls are thinking sex too, amidst their other thoughts of romance and seduction. We just have to learn to take it slow, wait in readiness, be friends first. Even in an adult chat room like Lit.