From Friends To

Note: I originally wrote this story for someone, but since then have decided to submit it to Lit. So many thanks to Techsan for editing and helpful suggestions. Thank you ahead of time for any feedback! -- SR

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I knocked and the front door opened, already ajar. "Scott?" I called, stepping through. I made my way back to the living room where I saw him, sitting on the couch, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.

"It's done," he murmured quietly, disbelieving. "We agreed to divorce."

"Oh, god, Scott, I'm so sorry," I replied, rushing over to kneel next to him. "How did it--I mean, if you don't want to talk about it, I understand..."

"I'm not sure... It hasn't quite sunken in yet," he said, and looked at me then. His eyes were dull, shell-shocked, and glazed. "It just feels so... final."

I moved up to sit on the couch beside him, leaning against his side. "Scott, I'm so sorry--I just don't know what to say..." I felt him sag against me, and I wrapped my arms around him awkwardly, given his larger size. "Shhh... It's okay. It's going to be alright, I promise..."

I ran my hand over his back and neck as if I were comforting a small child instead of the fully-grown, dark-haired man beside me. Sitting like this, his arm pressed against my breasts, but I tried very hard not to notice, to focus instead on the hurt he was suffering. I could smell him, warm and dark and male enveloping me, but again, I attempted to shake it off and be a friend to him.

He turned his head to look at me. "I just don't understand it; I feel like that's it--like I'll never be able to find someone again. Like, everyone gets one person to spend their lives with, and I already used up my chance."

"Scott, don't say that!" I said, genuinely shocked. I pulled his face closer, so that his forehead and mine were touching and I was staring straight into his shadowed eyes. "You are a kind, gentle, funny, adorable, and

very

sexy man, and you will find the person that is right for you. Nobody has a limited amount of chances for that--so you can't think so negatively."

He closed his eyes then, and turned to face me fully, wrapping his arms around me and laying his head on my shoulder. His grip tightened and I gasped, feeling him shudder as if he were crying, but I felt no tears on my skin. We sat like that for a long time, my cheek resting on the top of his head.

Gradually, his breathing slowed to normal, but he stayed where he was, his head in the crook of my neck. I could feel his warm, damp breath on my skin, and I began to tingle. Berating myself for being turned on by a man in such an obviously upset state, I tried to push the thoughts out of my mind.

Then I felt him move, so slightly, his head tilting so that his mouth pressed against my collarbone. I inhaled sharply, and he froze, his mouth staying in place. After a moment, he began to move his lips down my collarbone, and I felt the warm wetness of his tongue flick between them.

Once he'd moved to the hollow of my throat, he began to work upward, up my throat, behind my ear, then grazing over my cheekbone to my mouth. He kissed me, hungrily, lips working, tongue seeking. I could feel myself dampen, soften at my center as the air cooled the trail his mouth and tongue left on my skin. His body leaned against mine, pressing me down into the couch.

I pulled back only slightly, "Scott, are you sure--I don't want to take--"

"Please," he whispered against my mouth, "it's been so long--let me just--" With one possessed movement, he unbuttoned my jeans and slid a hand inside, cupping my slick mound with one hand. "Oh, god," he sighed, and kissed me harder, sliding a long middle finger along my slippery lips until I gasped against him.

He seemed to come awake then, his eyes focusing, looking down at me. "Oh, Jessica, I'm so sorry. I never meant--If you don't--"

"Shhhh," I whispered. "If you want this, then I want this. Take what you need, please. I'm here for you, however you need me."

With that, he fell on me again, mouth on mine, hungrier this time, harder. His finger slid against me once more before plunging into my pussy, and I cried out softly against his mouth. His thumb found the sensitive button above my slit and began to move in slow, light circles, in rhythm with the thrusting of his finger and of his tongue in my mouth.

My hips began to buck against him, rocking and pressing, as my hands moved down his chest. I could feel the bulge of him against his jeans, smooth and iron-hard and radiating heat through the material. Then I felt nothing, nothing but his hand and his mouth, driving me higher and higher until I came, shivering and moaning, feeling his other arm slip around and behind me.

Boneless, I tried to reach up and unbutton the fly of his jeans, whispering, "Please, Scott, please, I want you inside me..." But my fingers were still trembling too much to work the button and the zipper.

"Yes, god, yes," he brought his hand out from around my back and unzipped himself so that his cock rose, dark and stiff, with just one drop of sticky fluid at the tiny hole. I reached down and ran a hand over him, and he shook then, his control barely leashed. He was poised at the entrance to me, and I could feel myself dripping for him, aching for him.

"Shhh... Let go, Scott, let go. It's alright," I murmured, and then I saw his eyes--naked, vulnerable, wanting. He shut them, tight, as he slid into me--slowly, as if memorizing each second, each sensation. He filled me utterly, stretching me taut around him, so much so that I whimpered, the pleasure bordering pain.

He froze. "Jessica, are you okay? Am I hurting--?" In response, I moved my legs up, hooking them over his hips and joining them just above his ass, pulling him closer, deeper inside me.

I felt him bump against the farthest walls of my pussy, and hissed out, "Yessssss..."

It was as if I had flipped a switch in him, his shaky hold on control shattered. He pulled himself all the way out of me, and for a split second, I felt empty, a vacuum, before he thrust back into me in one hard stroke. His hands were on either side of my head as I lay on the couch, as he began to piston in and out of me, deeper with every stroke, impaling me each time and grinding his pubic bone against my clit.

I could feel his sweat begin to drip from his chest to mine. He leaned down, taking my mouth with his, ravaging it as his cock was ravaging my slippery, clenching pussy. I wrapped my arms around his neck, twining my fingers in his hair, pulling his mouth closer.

I felt the shudders start then, the long, slow pulls upward from my pussy that indicated the start of my second orgasm. I arched hard against him and he moved his mouth down, taking one of my nipples in his mouth, sucking hard, while one hand moved to my other breast, lavishing it with attention as well.

My hips bucked hard at this new sensation and I could feel my pussy walls clench and squeeze his shaft, milking his head. His thrusts became more erratic, losing the rhythm we'd been keeping up so well. He threw his head back and howled, and with one last plunge that I thought would split me in two, I felt him spurt inside me, the warm fluid coating my insides, filling me and leaking out, down the crack of my ass.

He collapsed on top of me then, his head just below my chin, his chest heaving against my sensitive breasts. He was still inside me, twitching and oozing, and I felt our combined juices dripping down over my thighs. His hands moved up and down my sides as he calmed, and then he turned and once again placed the lightest, gentlest of kisses at the hollow of my collarbone, before laying his head back down, his breathing slowing until I knew he was asleep.

I leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of his head, closing my own eyes and drifting to sleep, but not before sending a fervent, silent prayer to whomever was listening that this man would find the healing that he needed...