I was 18. I had known Cat for about two years, first as a casual acquaintance, then as my girlfriend's best friend. Few guys could look at her without feeling lust - she had the nicest set of tits I had ever seen: Big, full, and firm, with that sort of perfect roundness we all dream about. She had a lovely oval face and flouncy brown hair, and her tight ass was a perfect accompaniment to those fantastic breasts. Many a night I had lain in bed thinking about her - stroking my cock and dreaming about those tits.
In fact, I must admit, even while fucking my girlfriend or watching her suck my cock, I would often fantasize that this was Cat's mouth, Cat's pussy, and imagine what her beautiful tits would look like wedged between my thighs as she sucked me, or bouncing as I fucked her. Not to say that my girlfriend was lacking in any way. Alice was a beautiful, small Japanese girl, with a particularly charming little face and a mouth that loved to suck. No one looking at her demure expression and perfect posture could guess that this little chick was a sexual dynamo - she simply adored cock, and would suck and fuck me any time we had a spare moment alone. For a 18 year-old boy who'd had almost no sexual experience before, this was a dream come true. Alice's body was perfect - like a sculpture or a painting - and to watch her moving over me while she speared herself on my hard cock was almost more than I could stand.
Nevertheless, I could not help but think about Cat now and again. Where Alice was small, olive skinned, and perfect, Cat was like a playboy centerfold. Her big, firm breasts, slim waist, and tight round ass could not escape my attention, no matter how wonderful it was to fuck Alice. That they were friends, that I could not bear to lose my little Japanese lover, that Cat had shown only a casual interest in me as a friend, these things did not deter my lust. "Fantasy is harmless," I thought, "so why not enjoy it? Nothing will ever come of it."
It was a New Year's eve party, held at a mutual friend's parent's house, and Alice was visiting her relatives in Oakland. We'd had a few hot words about it, since she had an old boyfriend or two up there and I was a typical paranoid 18 year old. Even though I knew I was wrong, I kept seeing her in my mind's eye, spread out on a bed for some muscular martial artist. I was not in the best mood.
Neither was Cat. She arrived at the party late, and was dressed in a surprisingly frumpy dress. Cat was always proud of her body, especially her chest, and was known to wear tight-fitting T shirts and short skirts at virtually every opportunity. That night she was wearing some shapeless gray dress that hid every curve. I could tell she'd been crying by the redness in her eyes and the fact that her nose was running slightly - not an alluring sight by any means. She was sitting on the staircase alone, which was unusual in itself since Cat was almost always surrounded by guys who were trying to look down her shirt; but that night she was giving off such un-sexual vibes that everyone seemed to be staying clear. As though without her sexiness there was no reason to go near her. I felt real pity for her, since there was obviously something serious bothering her. I sat next to her on the carpeted stairs and asked what was wrong.
Before I knew it she was holding onto my knee and sobbing. Apparently her boyfriend of 6 months had just given her the gate - she had refused to go father than oral sex with him, and he had run out of patience with her. Even though I felt sorry for her - I imagined how I would feel if Alice left me - I still felt my cock stir at the feeling of her breast against my leg. Her tears had started people looking in our direction and Cat was embarrassed, so we went into the back yard to sit by a hedge and talk.
She poured her heart out to me for two solid hours, and I found myself ashamed that I had been aroused at her touch. She had loved the jerk, or though she had, but had just not felt ready to go all the way with him. He was a typical jock stud, and she was too young to see how little he really cared about her I tried to make her understand how guys like that operate; I told her about the way some guys talked about girls in the locker room, about the jokes they made about well-endowed girls, but she just seemed to get sadder and sadder. To top it all off, he had abandoned her at the front door to this party after they had argued all the way there.
I offered her a ride home. The party was really going by then and we were finding it hard to hear each other. On the way home I tried to think of things to say that might make her feel better. I told her that I had always thought she'd sold herself short by going with that particular guy, and I knew of plenty of guys at school who were interested in her, and so forth, but nothing seemed to help.
"Yes, I know," she said, "but I'm used to that. When you have a good body there are always plenty of guys hanging around. That don't mean anything to me."
"Well, do you respect my opinion of people?" I asked.
"Sure - of course. You're one of the best people I know."
"Well then, if it makes a difference, let me say that if it weren't for Alice, I'd have asked you out a long time ago." I saw the surprise in her eyes, and thankfully there was pleasure there too. "I've always liked you, Cat. You're honest and fun to be with - I'd want to be your friend whatever you looked like."
I'm sure guys had told her before that they liked her for her, always trying to get in her panties, of course. But I meant what I said and she could tell. A silent moment passed, and she began to cry again. I started to apologize, but she held up a hand to stop me.
"No, no - that was very sweet of you. I've always sort of hoped... Well I don't know. Let's just say that that's nice to hear, that you like me..." She was obviously flustered.
When we got to her house I could see that the lights were all out and the cars all gone except hers. Her folks and her sister were obviously not home. I walked her to the door, waited for her to unlock and open it, then was about to leave when she asked me if I wanted a cup of coffee or a cold drink. I accepted, but at that point I felt sure her offer was innocent.
We sat in the living room on a big, comfortable sofa, drinking coffee, listening to the radio and talking. She seemed to have cheered up considerably. She added bourbon to our second round of coffee, saying that she really "felt Irish" that night, laughing as she said it. I laughed too, but I did not understand the reference. I was starting to get a little nervous, since I noticed that when she returned with the coffees she had also unbuttoned the top three buttons on her dress, and the rounded tops of her breasts were cresting nicely. I could even make out the lacy trim of her bra.
My cock was getting uncomfortably hard, and I caught her looking at it more than once while she poured a little more bourbon in each of our cups.
"I can't tell you how much better you've made me feel," she said, her voice just slightly husky from the booze. She leaned back on the sofa and sighed. "To be honest, it's nice to have the pressure off - to not have `him' begging to fuck me every five minutes." In leaning back she allowed her dress to rise high on her thighs, and I could see the sky- blue material of her panties.
I think I gasped a little, from the view and because I'd never heard Cat talk that way before, and she smiled at my reaction. "Oh come now, Steve," she said, "Alice has told me all about what you two get up to. No reason we can't talk about sex - we're friends, aren't we?"
I had to swallow hard - this was the object of every wet dream I'd had over the past year, getting drunk, showing me her tits, and wanting to talk about sex. I don't know how I managed to do it, but I set down my drink and said "Well, I don't think Alice would be too thrilled if she walked in on us right now, do you?"
Cat was quiet for a at least a full minute, then she leaned forward (drawing my eyes to those glorious mounds that were inches from spilling forth) and said "She's in Oakland, Steve. My family is in L.A. No one's going to walk in on us." She had a serious look on her face now, and her eyes welled up. "I need you. I really need you. I know it's a lot to ask."
That was the straw. I might have been able to resist a simple seduction, but this was too much. She was begging me. I leaned forward and kissed her as gently as I could. I felt her tongue brush my lips, and when I probed with mine her lips parted and she took my tongue deep into her mouth. She pulled me back, slowly, until she was lying on her back in the folds of the soft sofa and I was cradling her in my arms.
Our first kiss lasted for at least five minutes, as our tongues and lips probed and stroked and kissed. She took my right hand and placed it against her left breast, and I felt the nipple swell in my palm. Such a nipple it was, too - it felt like a small stone in my hand. She began to suck my tongue like a cock, in and out, while she undid the buttons on her dress, then unsnapped the front clasp on her bra. I pushed the material away and looked down at the loveliest pair of breasts I have ever seen, including those in men's magazines. They were so round and firm and perfect. Her areolas were pink and large, and the nipples stood out like buttons. I kissed down her neck, ran my tongue over her collarbone, and took a nipple in my mouth, sucking it lovingly. Her breathing became shallow and quick, and I could feel her heart beating rapidly as I massaged one nipple while sucking the other, then switched.
