I Wish It Had Been Me

Hello. This is my first story here, hopefully of a series based on and inspired by my own exploits with past lovers. I hope you'll enjoy; and if you have any (constructive) criticism, please don't be shy (but also, don't be an asshole, please). Kisses!

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I wish it had been me.

I have only myself to blame. When I invited you to come to my work party, I didn't do so with plans to take you home that night. We've known each other practically all our lives, and the thought just never occurred to me. Which isn't to say I don't think you're sexy or someone I'd want to take home; objectively, you definitely are. It's just we've been good friends for so long, being anything more than that just isn't on my radar.

Which is why, at the time, when I introduced you to the people I worked with, and saw how you and one of my coworkers immediately hit it off, it's not like I was terribly jealous or anything. In fact, I was happy for you. I know you've been single for a while—that's part of why I invited you to the party. I figured you might make a connection with one of my single coworkers. And I was right.

I was having too much fun with the ladies who were throwing the party to really focus on you, anyway. You looked like you were having fun, too. I saw the two of you dancing close, and even caught you stealing a kiss from her when you though nobody was looking. And, at the time, I didn't have any thoughts beyond "Good for you!"

Then you and she left the party. I stayed on, dancing the night away with coworkers and friends. Eventually I left too, and met up with some of my gay friends at their local watering hole.

That's when the first twinges of jealousy hit.

As my gay friends and I drank shots, I idly wondered in the back of my head what you were up to. I know you took an Uber to the party; did she offer you a ride back to your place? Did you spend time making out in her truck before hitting the road? Did you invite her upstairs? (Of course you did...) One of my friends said I seemed distracted, so I told them about inviting you to the party and seeing you dancing with my coworker. I told them you'd left together. Was I jealous? they asked. I scoffed. No, I said. We've been friends forever, I explained. I don't really think of him that way. But inside...I had to wonder. You looked hot tonight. Now that I thought back on it, I did wish you'd danced with me more often. Maybe held me like you held her. What if you had? What if you'd tried to kiss me like you kissed her? We'd only kissed once, years ago. It was...nice, but weird for us both. We were close like siblings. Kissing you had been...weird. Years go. What if it had happened tonight? I have to say, looking back, the idea was...enticing.

After several shots and an alcohol-induced confession and some furious imaginings, I've excused myself from my friends and stumbled home (lucky for me their favorite bar is only a few blocks from my loft). I'm home now, standing in my front hall, looking at myself in the mirror. Thinking about you.

You really did look hot tonight. I close my eyes and recall what you were wearing: tight black jeans that cupped your ass very nicely, a black button down shirt that wasn't quite skintight but was very flattering for your upper body. Your piercing blue eyes and killer smile. Eyes still closed, I let my hands drift over my own body, squeezing my breasts and moving my hips slowly, imagining the music from the club, imagining your body pressed against mine, your arms wrapped around my waist as we dance...

What if we'd danced together? What if you had kissed me when you thought nobody was looking?

Would I have driven you home if you'd asked? Would you have come back here to my place if I'd asked?

I have to assume when my coworker drove you home, you invited her up to your place. I've never been to your apartment, but I can imagine what it looks like. I know you. I know how you'd decorate. The paintings, posters, and prints you'd have on the wall. The books and music and movies you'd have. Your entertainment center. I imagine you'd take her upstairs, give her a quick tour (what would she think when she saw your bedroom?). Probably offer her a glass of wine, or maybe a shot of something harder, like whiskey. You'd sit on your couch, looking into each other's eyes, sipping your drinks. You'd lean in for another kiss...or maybe you'd just down your drinks quickly and grab each other, kissing wildly, passionately. Heck, maybe you wouldn't even bother with drinks...If it was me with you, I probably wouldn't.

I imagine the two of you on the couch, her arms around your shoulders, yours around her waist. She has one leg crossed over, between yours. You run a hand down her thigh toward her knee...I'm sitting on my own couch now, my eyes closed, one hand sliding down my own thigh, imagining it's yours I feel. In my mind's eye, I see her move her hands to cup your face as you kiss. Then you pull away slightly, dipping your head to kiss along her neck. She sighs and throws her head back, giving you access. You kiss her neck, sliding your hand back up her leg and around to squeeze her ass.

Suddenly she takes charge, pushing you back against the couch and straddling your lap. She grabs your face again and kisses you passionately. You kiss her back, both hands now cupping her backside. She pulls away from the kiss and, with a seductive wink, pulls off her top, exposing her bra. I imagine it's purple—I know that's her favorite color. I imagine her bringing your head down to her chest, and kissing and licking in her cleavage. My own hands squeeze my breasts through my top as my thighs rub together. I feel myself getting wet imagining you.

I imagine her eventually reaching behind her back to undo her bra. As it falls away, I can see you bringing your lips to encircle one of her nipples. She gives a squeal of passion as you suck a nipple into your mouth. My own hand squeezes one of my nipples and I let out a gasp of my own.

I can see her, straddling your lap on your couch, holding you by the back of your head as you lick and kiss her nipples, sliding your tongue along her cleavage as you move from one to the other. I can hear her moans of pleasure. I wonder if she likes having her tits sucked as much as I do. If I was there with you, I'd be holding your head in place so you could lick and suck my nipples until I was ready to explode. My own hands furiously twist and squeeze my own nipples as I imagine you bringing me to the point of ecstasy.

I can see her pulling your head away from her breasts and tipping your face up, leaning down to kiss you passionately again. As you kiss, her hands slide around to unbutton your shirt. She pushes it aside, exposing your chest. Her hands slide up and down your chest and abs. All the while, she grinds her lap into yours. Your low moans combine with hers to form a symphony of lust.

I imagine her sliding off your lap, onto her knees in front of you, between your legs. Looking up at you with desire in her eyes. I can see you looking back, desire in your own as she reaches up and undoes your belt, unbuttons and unzips your jeans. You lift your hips off the couch so she can pull down your jeans and your boxers. Your cock is standing stiff and ready, precum glistening at its tip.

I've never seen your cock, of course. Never imagined what it looks like before tonight. In my mind's eye, it is magnificent. Thick, long, and hard, pulsing with desire. Eyes closed, rubbing my thighs together and squeezing my tits, I lick my lips slowly at the sight of it. Just as I'm sure she's doing. I imagine her leaning in towards it, smelling your musk. Reaching out with her tongue to taste your precum. Does your cock twitch when her tongue touches it? Do you let out a sigh of pleasure? I imagine her grasping your cock with one hand and stroking it gently. I'm sure this makes you moan softly. I moan too, imagining her licking your balls as she slides her hand up and down your shaft.

I can imagine her taking your cock into her mouth as she fondles your balls. I can see you throw your head back in pleasure as she sucks your cockhead, hear her moan in her throat as she does. I see your hands gently bury themselves in her hair as she takes you in and out of her mouth. I hear you tell her you won't last long if she keeps this up.

I slowly slide one hand from my breast up to my face. I slide two fingers into my mouth and suck them lightly, imagining I'm sucking your cock. I'd want you to cum, to feel your seed sliding down my throat; but I'd also want to wait. I'd want you to fuck me.

I imagine her feeling the same way. I can see her slow down, then with one last suck I see her pull away from your cock. Your cock leaves her mouth with an audible pop that makes both of you groan. She stands up, smiling down at you. She reaches behind herself to unzip her skirt and lets it fall to the floor. Clad only in her purple lace thong panties and stockings, she holds her hand out to you. You stand up and reach for her. Holding her by her shoulders, you pull her in for a deeply passionate kiss. She reaches down and holds your still hard cock in her hand. She pulls away from the kiss and, with a small smile, nods her head in the direction of your bedroom. You nod and smile, taking a deep, shuddering breath.

I adjourn to my own bedroom, shedding my outfit on the floor once I get there. I imagine her leading you to your bed, turning around and pulling you in for another passionate kiss. If it was me, I know what I'd want you to do next. I imagine you pushing her gently onto your bed, lying on top of her. My body aches as I imagine your hard cock pressing up against her pussy—my pussy, thanks to my feverish imaginings, is dripping wet. I imagine you kissing your way down her body, eliciting moans as you lick her nipples and slide your tongue down her belly. One of my hands grips a breast, lifting it up for me to first suck and then lick my own nipple, imagining it is your tongue. The feeling sends lightning bolts of sensation directly to my pussy, which spasms with want. Imagining you kissing your way down her body, my other hand trails across my own belly towards my throbbing clit.

As I imagine you sucking her clit into your mouth, my fingers flick across mine. I arch my back with the sensation, imagining her doing the same as you fuck her with your tongue. I let out a low, throaty moan. I'm so wrapped up in my vision of you eating her pussy, I'm moments away from climax. One hand flicks my nipple while the other does the same to my clit. I imagine they're your hand and tongue doing it, bringing me closer and closer to orgasm.

In my fantasy you bring her right to the edge, then slowly, teasingly pull away. She moans in frustration, but also desire—she's so ready for you to fuck her with your hard cock. Her pussy is soaked with your spit and her own arousal. She needs you to fuck her. She whispers it, begging. You smile down at her and reach into your nightstand for a condom. She grabs it from you, tears it open, and rolls it onto your dick. You shudder at her touch. I reach into my own nightstand and pull out my dildo. It's long and thick and veiny, and I imagine that it's your cock I'm holding. I bring it to my mouth and lick around the shaft and head, pretending I'm doing it to you. I'm so ready to have you inside me.

In my head I can see you kneeling between her spread legs, the tip of your cock at the entrance to her pussy. Her breathing is heavy, ragged. So is yours. So is mine as I slide my dildo down my body, between my tits and along my belly, to my own waiting, throbbing cunt. In my mind's eye I see you slowly push your cock inch by inch into her, exhaling with lust as you do. In time with my vision, I slowly push my dildo into myself, arching my back as it slowly goes in, stretching me wide, filling me up. I can't help myself: I whisper your name as it goes in me.

I start fucking myself with my dildo, sliding it in and out. Not too fast, not too slow. My body spasms and arches with every thrust and withdrawal. As I fuck myself, I imagine you pumping in and out of her pussy, leaning over her, elbows on either side of her head, frenching her passionately while she wraps her legs around your waist, pulling you into her. I moan aloud, one hand controlling the dildo, the other alternating between playing with my tits and massaging my clit. I'm so keyed up and lost in my fantasy, wishing it was me under you, feeling your hard cock sliding in and out of my dripping pussy. In almost no time at all I feel my orgasm rushing up on me. My hand moves the dildo faster, fucking myself harder and deeper, while in my mind's eye I see you grip the sheets on either side of her head, snarling as your hips move faster and faster, slamming into her and making her grunt. I'm grunting too as my dildo brings me closer and closer to orgasm. I imagine her hands raking down your back and her nails digging into your perfect ass as she cums, throwing her head back and screaming. I imagine you grunting your own climax, pushing a final time into her and straining as your cock spurts. As I do, I pinch my clit hard and drive my dildo deep inside my pussy, triggering my own orgasm. I cum hard, shaking and crying out as my pussy quivers around the dildo—as I imagine it quivering around your cock.

It takes me a moment to come down from the height of my passion. I lie in bed, breathing heavily, my heart racing, my pussy quivering around the buried dildo. I imagine you rolling off of her, your cock sliding out. I can see you gathering her into your arms and kissing her tenderly, and my pussy tingles at the sight. I'm not exactly jealous that you took my coworker home and fucked her. But I do wish it had been me.