Jennifer and I have known each other since high school, but we've really been good friends for about three years, since we both moved from Easton to Landover in the summer of 19-. We dated at one point for seven crazy weeks, about a year after we settled into our big city lifestyle. We crashed and burned. No one could deny that Jenny and I made a fun couple, but in truth, the relationship did not work at all. I think we're too much alike; headstrong, outgoing, competitive. On the other hand, as friends, Jennifer and I make one hell of a team.
It was a Thursday night when Jenny called me up and asked me to come over. I could tell by the intensity in her voice that something was up. Jennifer didn't disappoint me. That's part of what I like about her. She always has something going on. I let myself in and stole a beer from the fridge.
"Sit down, sit down," buzzed Jenny. Alicia sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the grey screen of the television.
"Hey, Alicia," I said, taking my appointed place on the sofa. I liked Jennifer's roommate. Alicia is very much different from either of us, quiet and reflective, but she has a wicked streak that always startles me when it peeps out. I'd been developing a thing for her, which gave me a stronger tendency to visit Jenn. I took every opportunity to be thoughtful and gracious toward the roommate, without doing anything to betray my growing affection overtly. Alicia had a relationship with some guy in Jersey and she seemed quite devoted to it.
"Here's the deal," said Jennifer, straddling a tall stool and locking her feet under the cross bars. "Alicia went to school with this guy, Phil and he's down for the summer. I've been trying to, you know, get his attention, and all he does is smile at me like I'm his bratty kid sister."
I nodded understandingly, playing the wise counselor.
"So Alicia had a little talk with her friend." Jenn sneered as she spoke. Alicia interrupted.
"He told me that he thought Jenny was a sweet girl, but he just couldn't see her that way, sexually." Alicia twisted her smile as she pondered this comment.
"Ooh," groaned Jennifer. "I mean, I've worn skirts up the here and blouses down to here and the most I've gotten from Phil is a blush."
"Are you sure he's not gay?" I asked. Jenn slapped her thigh.
"He'd better be. Can't see me sexually, my butt."
"He's not," offered Alicia authoritatively. "He's had girlfriends for as long as I've known him. He was dating this woman, Michelle, before he came down for the job at ICS. She's pretty hot, if you believe the stories."
"All right, so you're not his type, Jenny." I thought the whole thing pretty amusing by this point. I knew Jennifer well enough to understand what was going on. Her pride was wounded by this stiff, and Jenn wasn't one to take an insult calmly.
"Alicia thinks I am. And I know he's my type. Worth a test run, anyway."
"So, what's the plan?"
"I don't think she's being bold enough," said Alicia. She pushed a long silky stream of hair behind her ear. "I think Phil likes his women enthusiastic about sex, and Jenn got off on the wrong foot."
"It was that stupid movie we saw, The Pride of Joy". It was just idiotic, and I kinda went ballistic about this slutty woman in the film. But God and everyone knows, I'm no prude."
"Amen," I said.
"But if Phil thinks I'm some kind of hung-up, tight-laced choir girl, I think it's time he saw a different side of Miss Jennifer Margaret Delany."
"Which means?" I asked.
"Alicia is going to dinner with Phil on Saturday night. When they're done, she's going to bring him back here. You and I will be in my bedroom when they arrive. Alicia maneuvers him out onto the balcony, so she can complain about Brian in the moonlight." Jennifer got off her stool and lead us outside. The balcony of their apartment had sliding glass doors leading from the main living space and from both of the bedrooms on either side. The view, overlooking the river, is magnificent. With rent control, they got a fantastic deal on the place.
"I love this balcony," I said.
"So, it's dark out here and they start talking. We're in my bedroom with my lamp on and the door slid open just a crack. Alicia says, 'what's that?'"
"What's that?" Alicia asked.
"And?" I asked.
"I fuck your brains out, while Phil watches."
I swallowed dryly. My face probably turned a dull red. My heart pounded a powerful bass beat. I looked seriously at Jennifer, the heavy swell of her breasts, the smooth creamy skin, the full lips, fertile hips, golden hair streaming past her strong shoulders, lean thighs, blue blue eyes.
"Wow," I said. Alicia smiled wickedly, her tongue barely touching the back of her lips. "Yeah?"
"You've got to do this for me, Mark," insisted Jenny, taking my arm and pulling me closer. Her tit brushed against my skin. Alicia blushed slightly.
"All right," I said agreeably.
"Yes!" said Jennifer, bouncing in her glee. My prick began to swell in anticipation. It stayed that way until Saturday night. I did my best not to touch my soldier, anxious to save myself for the command performance.
Jennifer and I had made a lousy romantic pair, but one aspect of our relationship had been unquestionably superior. Calling Jenn a prude was, perhaps obviously, anything but accurate. In the light of day, we fought, we bickered, we nagged and nit-picked each other far beyond the limits of acceptable couple behavior. That was us with our clothes on. Put us in a bed, naked, and we rocked. I've had more than my share of women in the two years since Jennifer. Not one of those pretty ladies could hold a candle to Jenn when it came to burning up my bed.
The curves of Jenn's voluptuous body are inspiring, but what really marks Jennifer as a superb lay is her creative enthusiasm. Jenn shocked me with her suggestions, and never evidenced even the slightest hesitation when I managed to think of some new approach to bringing us satisfaction. When she decided to give herself to a relationship, the surrender was complete. Jenn had fucked me with a reckless abandon. I had missed her relish for sex frequently since we went our own ways.
We sat on her bed. I had stripped down to a pair of boxer shorts. Jennifer wore a silk chemise which hung low from thin blue strands off her freckled shoulders. Her nipples knotted and relaxed in rhythmic succession under the fine fabric. Jenny toyed with an old grey bear nestled cozily in her lap. She had that stuffed animal when we dated.
"I've missed this," I said. Jenn smiled happily.
"I know," she said shyly. "You were always the best."
"It's too bad," I said, putting my hand on her knee. "I wish we could have better for each other."
"I don't know, Mark," she said. "Being friends has been pretty good, too." Jenn was quiet, somber. I squeezed her thigh.
"Oh, Jennifer. You're my best friend. But I wish I knew a woman I could love like I wish I could love you."
