A Bet Between Friends

We've been friends for many years now. Despite being involved with other people, we flirt shamelessly with one another. There's a chemistry between us that we've never acted on and probably never will. We get together every Friday night at your place, often just the two of us, to shoot the breeze and play a game or two of pool.

This particular Friday night it's just the two of us. My boyfriend is helping a friend move and your girlfriend is out of town on business. It's a hot summer night. You're wearing a pair of faded denim cut-offs and a black t-shirt. You wear only socks on your feet. I'm dressed in a short denim skirt and a white tube top. My feet are bare.

After you sink the 8-ball, we both reach for our water bottles.

"Nice game," I say, sipping my water. "You're kicking my ass again tonight, Jon."

"True," you say, putting your water back on the coffee table. "But what a fine ass it is." "Why thank you," I say, turning around and racking the balls.

"What do you say we place a bet on this game, Jen?" you ask. I look at you and can tell by the gleam in your eye you're up to something. "Just to make it more interesting."

"What kind of bet?" I ask warily, knowing that there was a very good chance that I would lose.

"Remember that conversation we had a few weeks ago about your fantasies?" you say.

"Yes," I answer softly, feeling a blush creeping into my cheeks. I grip the side of the pool table as a wave of embarrassment washes over me. I'd had a couple of glasses of wine that night and we'd been flirting outlandishly with one another. You'd asked me what one of my fantasies was and before I could censor my reply, I told you that I'd love for you to watch me masturbate and that I'd like to watch you masturbate. I half-expected you to laugh that night but you didn't. All you said was that it was an interesting fantasy that sounded like fun. I left shortly afterwards, pleading a headache.

"Winner of this game gets to watch the other person masturbate," you say. "What do you say?"

"Totally naked or not?" I ask, trying to quell the nervous butterflies in my stomach. Arousal courses through my body and I feel myself growing damp.

"Totally up to the person who loses," you answer.

"Deal," I say. I break first. As I lean into the shot, I can feel my skirt ride up in the back and I know that you can see a glimpse of my white cotton panties. My braless breasts brush against my tube top. My nipples harden at the contact. "Interesting little wager you came up with, Jon." I don't sink any balls so I stand up as you take your first shot.

"It turned you on, I see," you say, looking pointedly at my chest. I look down and notice my nipples straining against the fabric.

"Quite a bit," I say. I look down at your crotch and can see your cock causing a bulge in the front of your shorts. "Looks like I'm not the only one turned on by our wager." I watch as you sink all of your shots and I grow increasingly excited - and nervous - by the knowledge that if you sink the 8 ball now in just a few minutes you will be watching me masturbate.

"Nope, you're not the only one," you say as you sink the 8 ball.

"Good game," I say.

"Thanks," you say. I head into the bathroom and return a moment later with a towel.

"Now, where do you want me?" I ask, sounding braver and calmer than I actually feel.

"Wherever you're the most comfortable," you tell me. Gathering my courage, I walk over to the wooden coffee table and clear it off. I place the towel on the table and reach behind me for the zipper on my skirt. I slowly slide it down as you sit on the edge of the pool table facing me. My skirt pools at my feet and I step out of it, tossing it onto the couch beside me. I keep my eyes on you as I reach for the bottom of my tube top and pull it over my head. Clad only in my white cotton panties, I sit on the edge of the coffee table, making sure the towel is beneath me. I start by cupping my full breasts. I gently squeeze them before circling my hard rosy nipples with my fingertips. They're so hard and tight that touching them evokes a mixture of pain and pleasure. I moan softly at the feeling. My pussy becomes even wetter with every brush of my fingers over my nipples. I draw my feet up and spread my legs wide, giving you an excellent view of my panty-covered pussy. You can see my wetness darkening my panties. I trail my hands down my tummy to my inner thighs. I stroke them softly before moving one hand to my mound. I rub my pussy through my panties, pushing the fabric between my folds.

I bring both hands to the waistband of my panties and slowly push them down, over my hips and finally down to my ankles. I kick them off and they land in your direction. I return to my original position, giving you an unobstructed view of my closely trimmed pussy. You can see how wet I am. I stroke my slit before slipping my fingers between my folds. My juices coat my fingers and I begin to roll my clit between my finger and thumb. I sigh as my pussy begins to tingle. My eyes drift close as I slide two fingers inside my hot channel. As I begin to fuck myself with my fingers, I let my mind wander. I imagine your fingers inside me, fucking me.

"Jen, look at me." Your voice breaks into my fantasy. I open my eyes and look at you. "What were you thinking of just then?" I add a third finger, pushing them as deep as I can inside myself. A thin sheen of sweat has formed over my body as I fuck myself. My hips begin to thrust against my hand as I thrust my fingers in and out. My juices are flowing freely from my body, coating my fingers and trickling down to my ass.

"I was imagining my fingers were actually your fingers," I say huskily. I can feel myself getting close to cumming.

"Was I fucking you with my fingers?" you ask. I notice then that you've opened your shorts and taken your hard cock out. You begin to stroke it as you watch me fuck myself.

"Yes," I answer.

"Was I fucking you hard or slow?" you ask.

"Hard and fast," I answer, increasing the speed and intensity of my fingering. The pressure inside is building and I know that I will cum soon. With my free hand, I begin to stroke my clit. As I watch, you stroke your cock harder and faster, almost in time with the thrusting of my fingers. I cum hard around my fingers and I feel myself gushing around them. You cum at about the same time, long white ropes of fluid, some of which land on me. I collapse onto the table, exhausted. You stand up and reach for a Kleenex to clean yourself up. After placing your softening cock back into your shorts, you come over to where I am on the table.

"You ok?" you ask, kneeling beside me. I feel slightly embarrassed, lying naked on the coffee table after having one of the most intense orgasms of my life. "Jen?"

"I'm fine, Jon," I say as I start to sit up. "Hand me my panties, please." You do and I slowly pull them on. I put my top back on and then my skirt. I pick up the towel and carry it back into the bathroom where I put it in the laundry hamper.

"Thanks, Jen," you say as you walk me to the door.

"You're welcome," I say. I give you a hug and quick peck on the cheek goodbye as I normally do. "Next time, I pick the wager."