More Than Friends: His & Hers

Two old friends realise that they are not, after all, just friends. And we get to read both sides of the story...

*******

At the start he had been able to concentrate on the DVD pretty well, but when Kate had yawned and leaned over to rest her head on him Ben had placed his arm around her shoulders out of habit; now, half an hour later, she was sprawled half asleep on his chest and even the wisps of hair that tickled his cheek every time he moved were distracting him. Her hand, resting innocently somewhere in the region of his abs, he was trying desperately not to think about.

He shifted uncomfortably on the sofa. He really should have learned by now that snuggling up too close with her was a guaranteed way to make sure he missed at least half the dialogue. It did not help at all that two of the main characters, long term friends, had suddenly started snogging each other's faces off, having realised belatedly how much they fancied one another.

"Mrfgle?" Kate levered herself up, obviously been disturbed by his fidgeting, and looked at him enquiringly. The tufts of hair that stuck up on one side of her head made her look comically endearing and he chuckled at her, despite being uncomfortably aware that it didn't make a shred of difference to her affect on his libido.

She sat up straight and frowned at him.

"I'm sorry." He grinned at her expression. "I was just trying to get comfortable..."

She harrumphed -- there was no other word for it -- and leaned back into the comfortable leather, arms crossed.

"What did I miss?"

"Uh... well they, they..." He trailed off, and then the DVD came to his rescue, the following scene making the content of the preceding one clear.

"Oh! About bloody time." She leaned her shoulder into his and redirected her attention to the screen, grabbing the remote and rewinding through the scene she had missed.

Ben tried to divert himself from the images on the TV, wondering again what possessed him to get himself into these tortuous positions. Unfortunately he ended up watching her instead as she replayed the kissing and, obviously without realising what she was doing, licked her lips as she watched. Ben bit his own lip, and reached for the blanket draped over the back of the sofa to drape it over his legs. The last thing he needed was for Kate to realise the effect she was having on him...

"Just cold," he assured her when she glanced momentarily at him. "Want to share?"

He had not really thought the offer through, and was relieved when she shook her head. He crossed his legs under the thick fleece, hoping to hide the extra bulge under the folds of the fabric. If only she would not insist on watching films in her nightclothes... her dressing gown had fallen open, he suddenly realised, his eyes returning reluctantly but inevitably to her.

She did at least wear reasonably demure pyjamas, but as she leaned forwards to place the remote control back on the coffee table the material gaped and flared and he swallowed hard as she unconsciously gave him an eyeful of her cleavage, the roundness of her breasts and the dark shadow between them only really visible in the dim light from the television because her skin was so pale, so fair, almost translucent. The spaghetti strap of her vest top had obviously slipped from her shoulder, and he watched, unable to tear his gaze away, as the material slid slowly down, not far enough for her to worry about or even to notice, but just enough for him to see the mole on the curved flesh which he had never before known was there. His breath caught in his throat and he forced his attention back to the screen where the couple were now arguing furiously. This was why he had never made a move on Kate, Ben told himself self righteously as the woman stormed out of the flat; seconds later he rued the comparison as the guy ran after her, caught up with her in the stairwell, and pinned her to the wall with a kiss that had her collapsing in his arms as he stroked her curves through her clothes.

Ben glanced at Kate again, unable to stop himself from looking for her reaction. She was exquisite in profile anyway, but the intentness of her gaze as the lovers sighed and smooched their way to reconciliation had him transfixed. Her mouth was slightly parted, pursed just a little, her bottom lip protruding in a way that made him long to take it between his fingers, or better still to nibble it between his teeth.

A sudden movement made him look down to see that she was fiddling with the faux buttons at the neck of her pyjama top. The material was pulled taut over her breast by the weight of her arm and he could not help noticing that suddenly the outline of her nipple was visible through the thin fabric. Not completely aroused and erect, not yet, but reacting already to the images on the screen, and inviting him almost irresistibly to take it into his mouth and gently suck it till it formed a hard pyramid against his tongue. He imagined how it would feel against his lips, how she would sigh and moan as he licked her skin...

Now he was the one unconsciously transfixed, and he did not realise how long he had been staring till her voice jerked him out of his reverie.

"Are you staring at my tits, Benny boy?" she queried, the tone of her voice amused rather than offended.

His head snapped up but he dared not look at her face.

"No, I was... I was..."

She laughed, and in the edge of his vision he could see she had raised a sceptical eyebrow.

"It's OK," she said, a chuckle rippling through the words. "I didn't realise this film was quite so..." She paused, evidently struggling to find the right word. "Well, you know what I mean," she added, glancing up at the screen where the couple were indulging in yet another enthusiastic bonking session, this time up against the wall. "It is a bit much when you're single..."

Ben nodded mutely, and she looked back at him.

"It's OK," she reassured. "Seriously, it's... well hey, it's a compliment probably..." Kate giggled.

He allowed himself to turn and look directly at her, realising almost instantly that it was a mistake. Her eyes widened as she took in his expression, and he tried, and failed, to wipe the naked desire and lust from his face.

"Oh," she murmured. "Oh..."

Ben felt as if someone else were controlling his body. Her face... she looked startled, surprised, but as her tongue nervously flickered over her lips he realised that she did not look dismayed or upset. If he had been in control of himself, if someone else had not seemed to be moving his limbs for him, he would surely have turned away embarrassed, afraid to act on the sudden hope, but whatever power had hold of him slowly lifted his hand and let his fingers brush over her breast, his thumb rubbing more firmly against the nipple which now stood out under her top like a sentinel, warning of the coming invasion. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as he pressed his hand more firmly against her, the hard nub against the centre of his palm, and watched her eyelids flicker as he caressed her.

She moaned gently, leaning towards him, and the sound snapped Ben back into reality; he found himself with the mind-numbingly heavy weight of her breast in his hand, her lips seeking his and her eyes half closed. He could hardly think, the hard-on in his jeans aching, almost painful, and he bent forward to brush his lips along hers with a sigh of gratitude. He tilted his head to deepen the kiss and then drew back for a second to catch his breath only to find her climbing half into his lap to find his mouth again.

His hands were on her back and without even thinking about it he slipped them under the cotton of her pyjamas and savoured the warmth of her flesh as he slid his fingers up her ribcage and then round to her sides. She languidly raised her arms in the air and then drew away for a second for him to push the top up and over her head before pushing herself back against him, her erect nipples pressing through the flannel of his shirt even as her fingers worked to open the buttons.

Ben was so lost in the feel of her mouth against his, her tongue twisting around his, that it seemed only seconds before their skin touched. Her skin felt like silk against his as she moved against him, and he groaned into her mouth as she ground into his lap, her hands tangled in his hair and her crotch rocking against his erection, the motion tormenting him despite the protection offered by his jeans. They kissed urgently, fiercely, biting and sucking, with bruising lust.

He surfaced again to take a huge breath, then grabbed her shoulders and gently guided her back onto the sofa, hovering above her for a moment on his hands and knees, just looking at her beautiful naked body as she lay beneath him; he ran a hand down between her breasts and over her stomach so that she arched into his touch, her eyes closing again.

"Fuck me, you're beautiful," he murmured. She grinned and pressed her pelvis into his hand as he let his fingers drift down between her legs.

"Thank you, and okay, I will fuck you," she responded in a sultry murmur. "I'll fuck your brains out."

"Good." He laughed and bent over her to find her mouth again, their kisses now less urgent, more searching, slower and more sensual. She pushed her breasts into his chest as he lay on top of her, the feeling of her soft tits and hard, hard nipples making it hard to think, hard to concentrate above the throbbing in his cock. His lips moved away from her mouth and down her neck; he tried to go slow, to savour the delicious taste of her skin, to linger on the recently discovered beauty spot, but he had no patience and quickly, with a sigh, his mouth was on the soft, rounded flesh of her breast, his fingers squeezing her and his tongue caressing her. His teeth grazed her skin and she moaned gently as he finally reached her nipple, just as he had imagined she would. The fulfilment of his fantasy was almost too much to take, and he moaned in answer as she moved under him, her body no longer really under her control but rippling and writhing under him as he worked her.

His breathing became heavy and fast as he moved to her other breast, and then pushed them both together, his hands full of the delicious lushness of her, so that he could take both nipples into his mouth at once, savouring their hardness against his swirling tongue and enjoying the way she squirmed under the pressure of his mouth, trying to pull away even as she begged him not to stop.

Without warning he suddenly realised her hands were on his flies, scrabbling at the button and then pulling the zip quickly down. He gasped as she slipped a hand inside his trousers, pulling his boxer shorts down and slipping her hand around the heat of his erection. She ran her fingers up the hard length of him and pressed her pelvis up into his belly.

"Please, please Ben," she murmured, almost whimpered, and as she continued to touch him it was all he could to remember that he had to peel her pyjamas down her hips as he slid back up her body. He tried to, like he knew he should, start slow and sensual, but the wetness under his fingers as he parted her legs to enter her sent any thought from his brain except the need to be in her, deep in her, now; all his fantasies made flesh, all he wanted, and he could not stop himself from plunging in wildly, kissing her in a random and distracted way, his mind barely functioning except with wonder, disbelief and awe that he was in her, in Kate, feeling her slick and tight and hot, her legs now winding around his body, her heels pushing him into her even harder, her legs open so wide, inviting him deep inside her, his balls slapping into her butt with every stroke.

She pushed herself up onto him, following his rhythm, gasping and swearing as he thrust into her, digging her nails into his back, urging him to thrust harder and faster, then running her hands down his spine to grab his backside.

For some reason that was what did it, and before he could stop himself, before he could regain his control, he was coming into her, his body shaking and pleasure radiating out from his crotch in waves he could not begin to resist. He collapsed over her, trembling and swearing.

The waves of ecstasy faded to be replaced with a mixture of happy triumph and intense chagrin.

"That was amazing," Kate said, and he looked up in surprise.

"It was pretty fucking incredible for me, but you, you didn't... I didn't... I mean, I'm sorry that..." He stuttered in his embarrassment and trailed off.

She grinned. "Most men don't, and I don't usually the first time. I'll live. It was still pretty good... who knew you were such a... a big lad..." she added, blushing as she heard her own choice of words. "What an incredibly naff way of putting it..."

Ben grinned a little shyly. "Hidden talents," he offered, and she blushed again, coyly crossing an arm across her chest and a hand over her crotch as if she had suddenly realised she was naked in front of her best mate.

"Oh no you don't," he whispered, propping himself above her with difficulty on the narrow seat. He peeled her arm away and ran his fingers lightly over her breasts, able now to savour her body now his was satisfied, able to tell her just how gorgeous she was and just how much he wanted her. He stroked her, ran his fingers over her skin, licked and sucked at her, gradually wearing away her self consciousness till she forgot, in the midst of her pleasure, to be shy or nervous. By the time his lips began to move over the skin of her belly she was incoherent again. He teased her, nuzzling into her mound and running a finger lightly along her slit, taking time out to slide her pyjamas entirely free of her legs, nibbling the inside of her thigh and blowing gently on her skin till she bucked and rocked beneath him, her breath coming in little "ah, ah, ah," noises.

Finally he let his long tongue slide inside her and tasted her musky sweetness, and she let out a sound that was closer to squeal than sigh. He explored her, almost tentatively at first, feeling her smooth and yielding against his tongue and lips, soft and wet where he slid his tongue inside her, hard and sensitive where he found her centre and gently coaxed more sighs and cries out of her.

Gradually he let himself get carried away, licking up her juices and sucking on her soft folds till her breath came in hard, fractured gasps and her thighs tightened around his head. He returned once more to her clitoris, where each touch and each lick made her shake beneath him. As he began to slowly and rhythmically lave it with his tongue he slipped one and then two, then three fingers inside her, fucking her with his fingers, enjoying the sensation of being inside her again, enjoying the feel of her body squeezing against him. Her pleasure was turning him on and he let himself moan in unison with her, knowing that his mouth vibrating against her would feel even better for her than it did for him.

Finally she began to writhe in earnest, her body buckling with ecstasy, and he felt the first spasms of her orgasm start to rip through her body.

"Fuck! Fuck!" she yelled out as the sensations overwhelmed her, and then she was speechless, only able to gasp and whimper as he continued to pleasure her, extending the high as long as he could before she shook him off, unable to bear any more, exhausted, knocked out, her body quivering as the after effects of the intense orgasm rippled through her.

Ben crawled back up her body and pulled her down on top of him as he lay back on the comfortable upholstery.

"Who knew?" she gasped again. "Who knew?"

Ben laughed. "So I take it you're OK with being more than friends?" he inquired with one raised eyebrow.

She raised herself up on one elbow from her position reclining on his chest and gave him an appraising look. Her hair was a mess and she was flushed and sweaty. He had never seen her look so good. "I guess I can live with it," she told him, running a finger round one of his nipples. "I knew there had to be some upside to living with someone who's allergic to washing up... and I reckon we had at least as much fun as those guys," she added, gesturing to the TV where the film had finished, unwatched.

Ben laughed again and drew her back down into his arms. It seemed pretty reasonable to suppose things would never be the same again. And right now, that seemed like a very good thing indeed.

*******

Kate stifled a sigh as she watched the movie from her position on Ben's chest. It had always been her idea of a perfect relationship, to fall in love with a best friend and find both companionship and, in her ideal world, exceedingly rampant, multi-orgasmic and preferably very frequent sex with the same person. It never seemed to happen in real life, but a girl could dream. And resting on Ben's broad muscles was about as close as she was going to get at the moment. She let her eyes close and her breathing slowed a little as her mind wondered. She could feel his belly, the taut muscles, through his shirt under her fingers. She couldn't help wondering what it would be like if she slipped her fingers between the buttons to touch his skin... if she undid the buttons one by one and instead of feeling flannel under her cheek she felt flesh. She never would. She had known Ben for long enough to reckon she knew him pretty well, and she didn't think that "predatory" was one of the main traits he looked for in a date. Besides which, she wasn't certain whether it would be fair to try it on with him just because he was there... he was so familiar, such a comfortable part of the furniture, that it would probably be like getting it on with her favourite teddy bear: cosy and soft, but not something that appealed overmuch and certainly a comparison that he would be unlikely to appreciate. It would hardly be fair to seduce him just because she felt reasonably sure that, if she caught him on the right day, she could; it would be a poor way to repay years of friendship unless she was ready to back it up with more than the kind of affection she would bestow on a soft toy.

He budged her as he adjusted his position on the sofa, and she was abruptly jerked from her thoughts.

"What's up with you?" she barked, or tried to, but between a sudden yawn and her disorientation at being suddenly disturbed the words came out as an unintelligible burble. It looked as if he was stifling a grin and she resisted the temptation to put her hands up and sort out her dishevelled hair. She clearly looked, if his expression was anything to go by, a total mess, but as long as she had a finger hold on her dignity she planned to keep it. She glared at him.

"I'm sorry." He grinned openly now and she struggled to stay stern -- she could not deny that he had a great smile, endearingly lopsided, just a little wicked (something that still caught her off guard now and then), and always full of humour. "I was just trying to get comfortable..."

She made a disgruntled noise and thumped herself back against the back of the sofa. No way was she going to confess that she had got distracted by his damn mouth. It was incontestably unfair that any man should have lips that full and sensual, and even more unreasonable that they should make his mouth look more manly, not less.

He wasn't a striking man, not someone she'd notice on the street. But yeah. Great smile. One day she would get him drunk and wangle a snog out of him, just to know what he would feel like, taste like, whether those lips could deliver on the promise they held... She mentally slapped herself. No, she wouldn't. Poor way to repay friendship and all that. Not an option. No matter how tempting.

"What did I miss?" Snogging him might be too unfair but she wanted a little revenge on him for his amusement at her expense and she got a mildly sadistic buzz from embarrassing him. The one thing he hated talking about was sex, it always seemed, although if some of the noises that had come through the wall in the past were anything to go by he had no particular qualms about doing it; and he was none too keen on watching anything that sexual either. Well, with other people around he wasn't keen, anyway... if he was like most guys then watching it on his own would practically count as a hobby, but after his reaction the times she had tried to talk to him about sex she had never inquired about his watching habits. He'd probably explode with shame.