Someone Borrowed Someone Blue

Hi! Welcome to Part One of Someone Borrowed, Someone Blue. A few quick notes to help you decide if this is for you:

- As befitting the category this is in, this story is a Romance. As such it is an extremely slow burn - if you're in the mood for something with heat early on, this is probably not for you right now. There WILL be a healthy serving of the hot and heavy, but not so much in this chapter.

- My goal was to create well-fleshed out, deeply complex characters that you as the reader will be interested in. That takes a lot of words so this will end up being pretty long, methinks.

-As a possible trigger warning please be advised that depression is part of the tale.

- As always, thanks for your time and attention and I hope you enjoy the story. If you do, please leave a rating and also a comment if you wish, good or bad. If you enjoyed this an/or prefer something with the same type of characters but much more heat check out my other story. Thanks again!

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I felt a heavy hand fall on my shoulder as I stood watching the students in the class scheduled before mine rolling around on the tatami, with varying degrees of success.

"I have good news, better news, and then the BEST news! Bear, you should be very excited. SUPER excited, even."

I was already smiling by the time I turned around to find myself face-to-face with my friend Tish. And I mean that literally, as she stands damn close to my six-foot-two. From behind she's been confused with Serena Williams, despite being taller - they share the same muscular build - but from the front Tish is a completely different kind of pretty. "I am beyond excited at what may be revealed, Tish. Please, share before the trembling from my anticipation shakes me into several separate pieces."

The narrowing of her eyes was mitigated by the wide grin that split her face as she brushed away a lock of her black-tipped-with-bright-blue hair. "Well, we wouldn't want that." She held up her index finger. "First, you will be blessed with my attendance in class tonight. I mean, under ordinary circumstances that would be the BEST news all by itself."

"Can anything be considered ordinary when it relates to you?"

"See, this is why we're friends, Bear." My actual name is Theodore and I go by Ted but she dubbed me with that fifteen minutes after we first met, despite me being neither bear-sized nor of that sexual category. "I appreciate your ability to recognize awesomeness when you see it and your willingness to share said perceptiveness." She nodded for emphasis. "Are you teaching?"

I shook my head. "Not as far as I know. Sensei is out there now so she'll probably stick around."

"Fair enough. It's still good news for you, though." She brandished a second finger. "For the better news I am here to inform you that Sterling is no longer an active romantic entanglement in my universe."

"That is indeed better news." I had not been a fan of Tish's latest boyfriend, as his most notable qualities were being extremely loud and forever making sure you remembered that he was once on the Denver Broncos. "I will operate on the assumptions that you were responsible for calling for the demise of the relationship and are in an emotionally good place, unless you tell me otherwise."

"Correct on both counts. He was truly 'sterling' in name only." She gave a little shrug. "Sure was pretty, though. BUT NOW," she said, grabbing both of my arms with her formidable grip - Tish is the same Letisha Moreland who won a National Championship as a catcher with Arizona State in 2008. "NOW we get to the BEST news! What are you doing on the weekend of the 27th?"

I blinked several times. "How is that related to the so-called BEST news?"

Tish flashed a dazzling smile. "It's all interconnected, my friend."

"Okay." I looked skyward, attempting to remember my schedule of three weeks or so in the future without aid from the calendar on my phone. "Uhm. I have a match Saturday in Danbury... no, wait, it's a home match."

"That's Saturday, right? What about Sunday?"

More brain searching. "Nothing I can think of."

"Excellent!" Tish's face lit up with a mega-wattage grin. "So the very BEST news is that you're free to go to a wedding with me on that Sunday! Isn't that great?"

"A... wedding?" My eyebrows rose. Tish and I had been friends over the past decade or so we'd been working together at a big sports network with four letters for a name, but this was more of a date-like thing than we'd ever done before. I'd never really allowed myself to think about her like that, as I'd always viewed her as waaay out of my league. I'm a decent-looking guy and in pretty damn good shape for 38 but she's always seemed a bit larger than life to me. Smart as hell, utterly charming, stunning in appearance in a number of ways, and a successful athlete. For fuck's sake, she was the Most Outstanding Player when she won the Series. That's unreal and, truth be told, a bit intimidating.

"Yes! And even better, it's a three-hour drive away and the reception is Sunday night so you'll need to take Monday off."

"You have an odd notion of 'BEST.'"

Tish managed to look offended. "It means you get to spend more time with me and if that's not the very definition of 'BESTr' then I don't know what is." She was still holding me - perhaps to prevent escape - and gave me a squeeze. "C'mon, it'll be fun! We'll have a blast. Plus I'll take care of transport and housing." When my expression remained dubious she resorted to pleading. "Please, Bear? It's in my hometown and I really don't want to go stag."

She'd only hinted at her difficulties growing up during the tenure of our friendship, usually changing the subject or offering vague, dismissive answers when I tried to pursue something she'd let slip.Behind me I heard someone frantically tapping out on the mat, the timing perfect. Heaving a dramatic sigh, I nodded. "Fine, fine. I'll be your plus-one. But I am not doing either the Chicken Dance or the Electric Slide."

"Deal!" Tish scooped me up into an enthusiastic hug, a unique combination of hard muscle and soft body parts enveloping me. One drunken night I'd asked her how the hell she'd played softball with her rather prodigious chest and was informed that by college she'd resorted to a custom-made sports bra that was 'like wrapping a couple of ball pythons around her tits for several hours a day.' I have no idea what size she might wear but her bosom is substantial, to say the least, and a stark contrast to the bands of iron that are her arms. Not sure if it was her antiperspirant or perfume but she also smelled great, something light that made me think of cookies. Friend or not, it was nice to be within someone's embrace. The past year or so hadn't been the kindest to me in that department.

The hug lasted long enough for me to wonder if I was at fault for not releasing by now when I heard the slap of numerous hands against numerous hips at the same time, indicating that the class was bowing out. As if that was our cue we sprang apart, with me hoping the burning I felt in my cheeks wasn't showing. Nobody likes a pervy dude who makes a hug weird, right? Tish didn't appear to be upset, hooking another stray bang away from her face as she stepped back and picked up her equipment bag. When I did the same she threw an arm over my shoulders and leaned in. "Thanks. There's going to be a lot to deal with there and having you with me will make it more bearable. Get it - BEARable. I'll fill you in later. Assuming I don't kill you tonight if we spar, of course."

I held my black belt up to her yellow one. "Mighty confident, aren't we?"

Releasing me, she made a show out of interlacing her fingers and flexing her knuckles. "Of course! Why wouldn't I be? Gonna whip your butt tomorrow night, too."

Right. Boardgaming night. She'd gotten me into them last year and now we usually played at least once a week with a rotating crew of others. "How many do we have?"

"Five including us, I think. Feeling like Lords of Waterdeep is a great choice."

"Ooo, good call. Been a while since that hit the table."

"If you survive tonight, of course. We working together?"

I glanced at the other students that had shown up for the adult class, the majority of them teenagers she could snap in half if she landed a sidekick on them. "Sounds good. How's your knee today?"

She reached down, fingering the brace showing against the pants of her gi. "A little achy but what's the worst that could happen? I tear every ligament in and around it again?" Tish laughed, but I heard the bitterness in her voice. Her injury had taken place right after she won the series and kept her out of the '08 Olympics. Despite numerous surgeries and dedicated rehab work on her part it never got back to the way it was before, bringing her career to a premature and untimely conclusion. 'C'mon, let's get out there. You better hope we don't spar. I'm feeling dangerous."

Her competitive spirit hadn't faded a bit. "Careful. Don't break your wedding gigolo."

Tish laughed. "Sugar, if it were that kind of wedding date that's not the way the money would be flowing. But I promise only body shots tonight."

She didn't make good on her threat, if only because after warm-up and stretching we focused on groundwork instead. It's good that I was able to repeatedly rely on my hard-earned knowledge - I didn't find my black belt in a cereal box - because Tish was easily as strong as I am, if not stronger. And that's just considering upper body - her legs are much thicker than mine, especially in the thighs. Escaping from her guard was no simple task, as it's a fairly neutral position advantage-wise - her on her back with legs wrapped around me and feet locked together behind my waist. Despite being on the bottom she actually retains a decent modicum of control, as she can move my torso forward and back. For me, being on top in there isn't all that great and so my goal is to break her lock and get myself into a better position. It's a bit easier to accomplish if you're willing to administer pain as an enticement for your foe to release you but that's not a cool thing to do with your partner, a person who trusts you (especially a lower belt), so you rely on technique instead. The leverage needed to escape Tish's clutches, so to speak, was absolutely exhausting. I was going to sleep well tonight.

It wasn't the first time I'd worked jiu-jitsu techniques with her before but it was the first time since she'd invited me to be her wedding date a few minutes before and I'd be lying if I said it wasn't dancing around in the back of my head, teasing me with fruitless 'what ifs.' It was impossible not to notice the savage beauty in her defiant snarl, the way her thighs quivered as she squeezed them against my hips, or how her furious scowl reluctantly slid into a grudging smile after I'd both escaped and taken side control before she could get away. When I took my turn on the bottom I made the mistake, for a second, of wondering what it would be like if she was trying to part my legs so she could mount me instead of trying to get away. She pounced on my moment of distraction, easily slipping my guard and trying to indeed straddle me, alas at a location on my body slightly higher than one would hope. Countless hours of training saved me as I checked her advance by reasserting half-guard - my two legs wrapped around one of hers - before heaving her forward. When she landed with her hands on either side of my head I struck like a snake, moments later hearing her curse as she tapped out from an elbow lock. When I released her she put herself back into that pushup position, our faces only an inch or two apart as we both sucked in air. I'd never noticed the tiny golden motes in her dark brown eyes before, and despite both of us sweating I wondered if her lips were as soft as they looked to be. Not a path of thought I should be going down. After what seemed to be much too quickly she lifted herself up and wiggled free of my now-open legs.

"How dare you use your advanced knowledge and skill against me, an innocent waif helpless in your clutches?"

I laughed, sitting up as she shifted to my side. "Helpless indeed. That was a perfect escape."

"But you caught me again!"

"It was a perfect escape until you took your weight off my legs as you tried to move to mount position. Slide your knees across my thighs like they're knives and you're trying to cut the mats beneath us."

She frowned. "I don't want to hurt you."

"I appreciate that, but I've been doing this a while and know how to work with you. Or if it does hurt, I'll tap out." I shrugged. "Being bested by your partner is part of learning martial arts. Ego needs to be left in the locker room."

"I'm glad you feel that way," Tish said with a sweet smile. "I don't want you pouting after I thrash you."

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The water was *almost* too hot, which meant it was perfect. I sighed with relief as I rotated in my shower, muscles already aching from another vigorous class. It had been two weeks since Tish had invited me to the wedding and she'd been stingy with details about what I was walking into, promising we'd have plenty of time to chat on the car ride out. I knew I would need to wear a suit, that the bride was a 'friend' (she'd supplied air quotes when telling me), and that she *probably* wouldn't have to clobber anyone but that wasn't a promise. She'd missed a few classes due to travel for work but had been there tonight as we worked on escapes and counters. I was teaching the class and decided she was progressing well-enough to learn the throw variant off a two-handed block. She'd been a little nervous about it at first but as anyone who's done it can tell you it's a lot of fun to toss someone like a sack of potatoes with a minimum of effort on your part.

It's not *quite* as fun to take six-foot drops over and over before the noob learns to help with the landing, even if you're skilled at breakfalling. Hence the lengthy exposure to near-scalding water as a therapy of sorts. The soreness was worth seeing the pure delight on her face the first time she threw me with ease and didn't stumble forward afterward. That was after class had ended and we'd stuck around so she could get it down, and by the time we reached that point we were both pillars of sweat.

The water starting to cool as I drained the heater tank prompted me to exit, and after drying off and using the microwave I made short work of my leftovers from a few nights ago. Armed with a beer I sank into my lounge chair and flicked on a hockey game, planning on getting some reading done while I watched. Instead I dozed off, which wasn't the worst thing in the world to happen as I'd been having some troubles getting sleep lately. I woke up at 2:37am, still in my chair, but joined by a friend I hadn't seen in a while.

I had an erection.

That's not to say my cock didn't get hard at all anymore - the fact that I wasn't wetting the bed was proof of that. But since a somewhat... traumatic breakup last year my sex drive wasn't what it had been. Well, that's candy-coating it. Basically I wasn't getting aroused at all, even in situations where I should have been. I had to exit dates that were going well because of a fiasco with one that ended with extra humiliation I was already all stocked up on, and for the past six months or so I'd just eschewed even trying to make a connection with anyone until I could figure out what the hell is going on.

There had been a couple of instances like this before, me waking up from what was likely a highly-charged erotic dream fueled by my pent-up sexual backlog and using memories of past lovers to get myself off. Sliding my shorts and underwear off, I was eager to make the most of the opportunity at hand (ahem). Still drowsy and a little out of it, I couldn't recall what or whom I'd been dreaming about, but I figured thinking about Marisol would be more than enough to finish what my subconscious had started. Especially that time in the cove in Turks and Caicos, with the way she ran her hands all over her body while making me watch... it never failed to bring me off. My hand wrapped around my cock, feeling it throb slightly at my touch, my grip tight against my circumcised shaft as I started to stroke. I could see Mari giving me a half-smile, half-smirk as she let her fingers roam up her ribs before cupping her full breasts, teeth biting her lower lip as her thumbs slid over her dark areolas and teased her hardening nipples, the hiss that escaped her...

Shit. It wasn't working. I could feel the urgency starting to bleed away, my cock losing its diamond-hard consistency. Desperate, my mind started casting about for other ghostly fragments of passion to get me back up to speed... Tara, Gwen, Ameera, Sara, all great memories but none giving me what I needed. In a moment of panicky madness I turned to thoughts of Jessica, of what we had before the nuclear option, of her long, lithe body above me, the otherworldly beauty of her face dappled in moonlight as her hips thrust down... no. Tears of frustration welled in the corners of my eyes as I felt the opportunity slipping away... and suddenly I could feel my legs tightly wrapped around a thick thigh, the muscles bunching beneath mine as our bodies writhed against one another. Tish's upper body pressed against me, her breath warm and sweet as she ran a palm over the contours of my stomach, her fingers searching until they curled around my cock at the same moment her lips met mine. I was dimly aware of stroking away on my now re-engorged (and then some) shaft, frantically pumping my hips in opposition to my hand's movement, but it was all too easy to allow myself to slip back under the sway of my fantasy, imagining it was now Tish's hips driving up and down on me as we both thundered toward shared orgasms, lips still locked together, the taste of her sweet in my mouth...

With a cry I didn't even try to contain my body arched off the chair as I came with the force of a runaway train, the unexpected level of pleasure locking me in place for several moments before I collapsed back down, gasping as though I'd just sprinted across a field. I have no idea how long it took for me to stop enjoying the afterglow via the pleasantly benign ache of a well-throttled cock, and there's a good chance I dozed off for a bit before the warm, sticky moisture from the copious amount of come soaked through my shirt and demanded my attention. Looked like someone had diverted the Mississippi River or something, and that wasn't even counting the rapidly drying line I found on the cushion next to my head. As I cleaned up, basking in the combination of contentedness and relief, my mind decided to fuck stuff up and remind me that as awesome as this was, it was fueled by me fantasizing about my one of my best friends, a woman who dated professional athletes and had never shown even an inkling of interest in me as anything more than what we were. As I'm the type of person who tends to dwell on things - case in point, my waking-world impotence - this was the type of thing that would likely keep me up for the rest of the night, fretting over how I was going to be able to face her and not blurt out what I'd done.

Much to my surprise, once I made my way to my bed I was out seconds after I slid under the sheets. I was happy to be wrong.

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"Work your magic, Bear. Nobody does it like you, nobody is as good." Tish's words dripped like honey, cajoling me. "You're goddamned magic, and you know it. C'mon, give it to me."