My best friend, Zane, has been staying in my home for several weeks now. He's a guy and I'm a girl, so people think we're in a relationship. I wish. He's hung and gorgeous. He doesn't date women like me.
I'm not bad looking, but I don't have a perfect figure, my tummy's a little round. My breasts are still perky, though, as they should be for a woman of twenty-seven years. What disqualifies me from dating him is Attitude with a capital A. He likes confident women, women who know what they're doing with their life. I'm prone to anxiety and I have no clue what I'm doing.
Zane just got fired from his job. He's angry at his former boss and sometimes his lips go into thin lines as he thinks about her. He won't tell me why he got fired, I can only guess.
I finish my Lady Grey tea and head down to the laundry room. Some sort of awareness slows my steps as I approach the open doorway. What I see makes my mouth drop open.
Zane is in the room, holding a pair of my dirty panties to his nose, inhaling deeply. His curls of auburn hair are as lovely as ever and the stubble on his jaw is rough, just how I like it.
"What are you doing?" I ask, my eyes wide as pancakes.
He lowers the panties, his eyes gleaming.
My cunt starts throbbing as I notice the bulge in his jeans. It's larger than it usually is. Not that I keep track of how big his groin is. No, I wouldn't do that.
"What are you doing with my panties?" I ask, outraged beyond my lust.
He holds them up. "Heather, you smell good."
"That's so creepy!"
Zane drops the panties into the clothes hamper and approaches me slowly. "I can't do this anymore."
"Do what?" I ask, my gaze dipping to his groin.
"Pretend I'm not in love with you."
The words don't make sense to me. I turn them around in my mind for long seconds. In love with me?
Zane grasps my chin, guiding me to look up at him. "I shouldn't have grabbed your panties, but I can't take this. I love you. You don't feel the same, but I had to tell you."
"This isn't a funny prank." Anger flares in me. "What'd you do, read my journal?"
"Your journal?" he asks, searching my face. "You wrote about me in your journal?"
I'm uncertain now. "What do you mean you're in love with me?"
"How could I not? You're an incredible person. I got fired because of you."
I blink. "What?"
"I stopped sleeping with my boss when I realized I was in love with you and she fired my ass. I should have kept sleeping with her, but-"
"Zane, that's incredibly messed up! You don't sleep with your boss! That's corporate 101!"
He makes a dismissive wave of his hand. "She paid me more when I started sleeping with her. You wrote about me in your journal?"
"I'm crazy in love with you," I say, his hand on my face burning me.
Zane gathers me up into his arms and says nothing, his embrace tight and comforting. "You really do smell good."
"I must, you're still hard," I say, cunt throbbing.
"We've never kissed," he murmurs.
This is beyond my wildest dreams. I tip my face up.
Zane cups my cheeks in his hands and gives me the most gentle kiss I've ever had.
"Again," I say, my heart fluttering.
He gives me another kiss, and then more like he can't help himself. His kisses turn from gentle to demanding. He drops a hand from my face to adjust his jeans and groans softly. "I'm sorry."
I recall what Zane likes in women and fumble with his jean button.
He watches me with such a look of lust that I freeze.
"No, keep going." Zane takes my face back in his hands and gives me more kisses, each one more ravenous than the last.
I succeed in getting his jeans open and his leaking cock springs out complete with manly veins. I lick my lips, unsure. "I don't know if that will fit inside me."
He chuckles. "It'll fit. We just have to get you nice and wet."
"How do you plan to do that?" I ask, putting a challenge to him.
Zane begins to unbutton my colorful blouse. "What gets you wet?"