Platonic Friends

The wooden ceiling fan with the fake gold plating pushed the air down from the ceiling. The air that night was standing still outside. A yellow-orange incandescent light bulb flickered each time that the refrigerator turned on the compressor. The little living room had a low couch and an arm chair. Neat books were lined up in a shelf. The car key for a second hand BMW convertible rested in a porcelain bowl near the door.

"How is work?"

"My jackass is always checking on me. He doesn't trust me. I call my boss jackass. It's the end of the quarter. I have to put in a lot of hours to get enough billable."

"You are such a good worker. You got your MBA last year. You are always out meeting clients."

Lark didn't reply. She hugged her knees to her chest sitting on the armchair across the room. Because of the heat, she was wearing ballooning pink gym shorts. With her knees up, he could see the underside of her hamstrings. With her hamstrings pressed together, the thin strip of fabric between her legs disappeared. It almost looked like her butt was naked. Her skin was smooth, well cared for with lotion and protected by sunscreen. She was only 28 years old. There was not a sliver of fat from her hard near daily workouts.

"At my office, we signed these new musicians from Seattle. They are using non-traditional instruments. You wouldn't believe there are instruments that have been made less than 100 times a year. And then one of these guys walks in. And he is a master at it. I'm working out the contract with them right now. They are really reasonable. It's fun to..."

"I wish I were in Aspen right now. My friends from the entrepreneurship club own a vacation condo there. They are having a mixer with East Coast financial guys."

Dashiell's face grimaced at being cut off. He turned his face away into the half-darkness of the room, while he took long and slow breathes. He was tall 6'5". His shoulders were big, not so much from muscle. Simply his constitution was to be big boned. He was more of a runner. He loved running desert races. He loved the serenity of stomping up dust and pushing past barely alive, hardy, thorny bushes.

"Do you want something to drink, Dash?"

"Sure, it's a hot summer night. The sweat is sticking on my skin."

"Help yourself. The glasses are in the cabinet above the sink. There is a bottle of water in the fridge."

Dashiell looked stunned. He looked at her face with the highlights on the cheeks that made her look fresh. There was rouge blended in perfectly, a little lower, to make her look alive. The foundation gave her a radiant perfect look. She was a master at makeup. Despite the heat, she looked happy, alive, and gorgeous. He stood up.

"Haha, I was thirsty and made you get me a drink."

He walked around the coffee table with the Forbes magazines neatly fanned out like at a dentist office. Coasters were placed around the magazines to protect the wood. When he walked past her, his eyes gazed down in between her boobs. They were two perfectly round honeydew halves. He had picked her up from the surgeon, when she had them done. She had been groggy, softly growling in pain. Her chest had been bandaged thickly. They had to put the seat belt behind her. And now that they were healed, they were perfectly round and full. His heart beat faster. She hadn't bothered putting on a bra with him. Her nipples were poking out, those large things in the perfect center.

There were four glasses and a white bottle of St. John's Wort in the cabinet. Otherwise it was empty. The fridge was empty spare for the bottle of water, a bottle of wine, an old lemon, and a packaged Italian dinner. He walked up to her armchair from behind. The glasses had already sweat pearls compensating. She reached her arm up like a ballerina without looking. The wet glass slipped in his fingers a little. He could hit swiftly, so that only a sip spilled over and hit her top.

He smiled brazenly at his dexterity. She screamed out sharply. A quarter sized wet spot clung to her boob.

"GET THE FUCK OUT!" she yelled with rage in her face.

"Hey I'm sorry. It's only water."

"GET THE FUCK OUT!"

"I get it. It's pretty cold and startled you. I'm sorry."

"GET THE FUCK OUT!"

She stood stern with a red face. Her arm and face pointed straight at the door.

He swallowed. He put the two glasses down on coasters. He grabbed the gold plated door handle. One last time, he turned around and apologized. She yelled at him, "What did you expect for doing that?" Then, he walked out into the darkness of the night. The residential street was empty. Not even the streetlights cared much about shining light anymore. The cicadas belted out their songs.

He got into his Lexus, put hard rock music to the maximum, and drove through the empty streets of the night. There were a couple cars providing him with company, while he waited at a traffic light. Then, the cars stretched out again. He was the lone night rider, feathering the steering wheel like a race car driver for smooth navigation around parked cars and turns. His headlights almost reached the foothills, when his phone rang.

"Come on back."

"Lark, you kicked me out for no real reason."

"You know I had to kick you out for doing that."

"No, I don't know what the harm was about an innocent spill of water. It's not like it was wine."

"Don't be like that."

"You don't treat me right. Remember at McDonald's half year ago? You had diarrhea. Their restrooms had no toilet paper. You made me take off my undershirt to give it to you to clean. I understand that your stomach was hurting. But there is something just not right about that."

"C'mon, that's a long time ago. You have to forgive. Remember, when we wear waiting for Club Bam-Bam in the line out in the cold winter. I was wearing a little black dress. You didn't give me your jacket. You let me freeze out there."

"So, you think you are more important. And it's okay for me to freeze? One of us had to freeze."

"I'm a girl. Be a gentleman. Just come back. Let's have a good time."

Silence.

"Okay."

He turned the car around. His breathing was tight. He weaved through the lanes. He left his car under the cone for a street light. She waited for him at the gate to walk him into the apartment building. Only one window was still lit. The quiet was so deep that one could hear the car idling at the intersection half mile down the road.

"Why don't you let me sit on the armchair? That way, you are no longer in the flight path for drinks."

"The coach is a little dirty. My friend's dog pooped on it. Only the armchair is clean."

"What?! You want me to sit on a dirty couch?"

"C'mon, you are a boy. You are always dirty. Sit on the far end. I don't sink she got poop there."

He paused standing in the middle of the room. His face reddened. Under his breath, he mumbled, "well, I'm already here." He sat down way far in the corner of the couch.

"So, how's your dating life, Lark?"

"Ugh, I've been on a few dates from match. They are all douchebags. This one guy was wearing pink pants and brought me a big box of chocolate."

"What about the guy, who took you to his second apartment in Lisbon, Portugal? You seemed to like him."

"Oh, yeah, the Wall Street guy! It was really fun to spend the weekend. His loft was in Alfama. That's the neighborhood of Castle of Sao Jorge. Because he lived so close to it, he had a special pass to visit it afterhours. He took me to the top of a tower there. We had a red wine and cheese picnic under a full moon. After the snack, he snacked on me. He was panting so much. And then he came so quickly."

Dashiell looked at her feet in the high heel wedges. The wedge was covered with a rope-like looking material. Her feet were neatly manicured. The skin was so soft with a little pink. Her toes were neatly trimmed, painted blue, and high glossed, so that the light reflected in them like car paint. The toes were tiny round things. They were pressed back for the high lift on the back. Her arch was perfectly lifted. A strap went low across her ankle, snugly like a joker goes across the throat. The looked somewhat moist. They looked strong, powerful, willing to dominate -- luxuriously cradled by the designer heels. They softly tapped in the air, while she gazed into the air as if speaking to herself.

"Yeah, I haven't had much luck with the ladies. I've been working hard. It's hard to find a good girl in his big city."

"Tell me about it. I work so hard. I go to the gym seven days a week. My doctor told me to scale it down. He said that it is causing health problems."

She pulled her t-shirt up to show her belly. Her belly was small. He could have put his big hand across to cover all the way from the left to the right side. The skin was tender. The abs clearly stood out in the center. It was a mixture of a little girl's stomach and a hardened, sexy athlete's stomach. Her navel was a tender, delicate jewel in the center. She patted her belly with her hand.

"I want this to be more like Gina Carano, the MMA fightress."

"You look really hot."

"You deserve a girl."

"Do you mind if I go to the restroom?"

"Sure, go ahead. But, don't use my towel. That's disgusting, because I use that for my body. Shake your hands dry."

He looked down on the floor again. He looked at the sexy bombshell that was his friend, the tight body that was obscured in the baggy shorts and wide t-shirt. The lip gloss was perfect on her lips. The lips had this soft, delicious pink with the crispness of a fresh apple. Around it was a darker red lip stick drawn for a dark sultry contrast. He flipped the bathroom switch on. He locked the door behind him.

The sink counter was overflowing with mostly empty bottles and vials. Workout clothes were discarded on the floor behind the door. The black yoga pants were turned inside out to show the crotch area. A stretch tank top was flipped inside out as well. It showed the lightly brown breast support, so that she wouldn't have to wear a bra. A multi-colored G-string was twisted and thrown into the pile. He could smell her sweat linger in the air. She was still young. The sweat had a delicious aroma. He sat down on the toilet out of respect and to be closer to her naked ass. The piss hissed into the bowl. He was worried that his dick might touch the bowl ceramic. It was big and the bowl was small.

When he rinsed his hands, his eyes fell onto a yellow perfume bottle -- "Seduction." He shook his hands hard to spray water drops into the sink. The body towel looked soft and fluffy.

When he walked back into the living room, Lark turned around to look him in the eyes.

"Do you want to have sex with me?"

"Look, you are really attractive. We have known each other for a long time..."

"So, are you saying that I lack sex appeal?" She looked at him sternly. There was a hint of worry in her eyes.

"You are really hot. There are a lot of guys that see you in the street and dream about you at night."

"But, I don't do it for you. Is that it? It's not a trick question. Just tell me."

"Okay, I'd totally do you if I had the chance."

"I knew it. You always had a hard on for me, you little orbiter."

"C'mon, I wouldn't ruin our friendship."

"Why don't we? This is the 21st century. Let's be modern and fuck right now."

"You mean, you'd get naked?" Dashiell looked confused.

"Yeah, c'mon."

Lark walked into her bed room. It was a small room that barely fit the queen sized bed, the commode, and the cupboard. The bed was neatly made. He followed her with dropped shoulders and a blank look on his face.

She pulled the t-shirt over her head. The boobs were perfectly round mounds standing up with thick, luscious nipples. Her frame was so slender compared to the boobs. She dropped the baggy shorts. She pulled the black thong down. She was split naked. Every part of her silhouette was absolutely trim. Without the high heels and clothing, she looked a lot smaller, tinier, like a little girl.

He could not believe to see her completely naked. He had seen her body for years. To actually fill in the blank spots of her body was amazing. Her body surpassed his wildest imagination. She was a like a porn star hiding in the house next door.

He quickly opened his pants, raised his knees out of the pants, ripped his shirt over his head without unbuttoning it. His erection had formed within seconds of seeing her body. "Wow, you have a really fat one," she said with surprise and glee of anticipation. He towered like a giant with 6'5" next to the 5'2" girl. He bent over to get his wallet.

"No condoms."

"Hey Lark, we have to be safe."

"My pussy is a little dry. It doesn't feel good with a condom. Do you think I'm dirty that you need a condom?"

He looked at her body, the neatly trimmed sex, with tight pussy lips. He threw the wallet on the floor for a chance to ravage that body once in his life.

She crawled on the bed backward. His eyes gazed down her flawless legs, chased her pussy receding farther away onto the bed. Her pussy lips were bright pink, the long slit, the mound near the top, the knob hiding her clitoris stood out. Her breasts softly wiggled side to side with her crawling on the elbows.

He crawled onto the bed, his naked skin over hers. His mouth dove onto her nipples like an ice cream heaven come true for a little boy. He sucked on those luscious nipples until he had a mouth full of her boobs in his mouth. His tongue flicked around her nipples in circles. She softly moaned. He raised his eyes all the way to the top to eye her face. Her face looked relaxed for the first time that night. Her eyes were closed enjoy the sensation of the man on her body.

He moved over her body -- skin to skin. His lips covered her mouth. He felt the luscious lips. His lips covered her mouth entirely. He greedily took in that mouth that he had never imagined touching. His tongue had to touch everything, swiftly and hungrily as if it were a dream that could pop at any moment. He felt her little, slippery teeth. He could the flesh of her tongue and pressed his tip onto it hard.

His fat schlong was in between her thighs. He could feel her smooth skin. It wasn't enough. He spit on his hand. He put the palm against her sex and smeared the foamy spit all over her slit and liberally circled around her clitoris. He slipped a finger inside of her. The juice inside of her was working to break out. The first half inch was dry. Yet deep inside was a lot of juice. He distributed the juice out and over every part of her. Her inner thighs got sticky with the helpings of his spit and her own juice.

She lay on her back barring her sexy, trained, and surgically enhanced body to him. He placed his cock on her entrance and rushed in -- just as the kama sutra says: "The boy should be hurt by the swift penetration."

Lark moaned deeply with her closed eyes. She raised her chin to tilt the head back in passion. Her hands searched for the back of her knees. She pulled the legs to the side. "You are so big, I have to make room for that fat cock."

He thrust into her. He carefully pulled out until the tip was barely inside of her. Then he rushed inside of her making sure to grind his pelvic mound into hers. He had to bend his body almost in a half circle to reach inside of her pussy while being latched onto the nipples of hers. All the stretching for his desert running races had paid off. His latissimus dorsi bulged large on his back, making him look even more beastly.

"Let me turn around. I don't want to see your ugly face."

She moved beneath him, turned on her belly. She lifted her ass high. Her pelvis was resting on her knees. Her chest was pressed against a pillow. Her lower back had a neat curve.

He felt deeply hurt and opened his eyes wide. Yet, he had her spunk over his dick in thick white wads. His dick felt too amazing. He swallowed his pride. He started ramming his cock into her slippery pussy again. No matter how hard he rammed, it never felt like ramming. She was so slick that his cock always effortlessly moved in. In a way, fucking her from behind, her hating her face, it all made the fuck even more depraved and turned him on. In the heat of the fuck, he had no more regard for her. She was a bundle of cheap flesh that he pummeled to derive extreme lust.

She screamed visceral, blood curling yelps into a soft, white feather pillow. That's when he knew that he could let loose. He let his balls shoot white strings of sticky sperm inside of her belly. And he came spurt after spurt filling her cunt. His own sperm started running out and spilled down her thighs onto the sheets.

They became aware of the sweat that had made them wet bastards as if fresh out of the rain. She ruffled the second pillow for him. He fell onto his side. Her body felt so much more fleshy wet. There was no warm hit. There was cold, flesh. It was more of a turn on. He left his arm on her boobs, craving to take in every last moment of having her hot body before they would go back to their platonic friendship.

They fell asleep into a deep slumber. The smell of sex was permeating the bedroom. The juices of sex made the sheets wet in the center with a good two foot diameter. The ambiance of sex made their dreams vivid and full of pleasurable.

The alarm chirped brightly. The green 8:00 AM LED display blink rapidly. The sun outside of the window was way too chipper.

Lark had her makeup washed off at some point in the night. Dashiell saw her skin bare for the first time. He was horrified. He had to close his eyes again to process what he saw. Her face looked long, so long. The lines on her cheeks had made her face look round and cute. The color of her face was so pale. The adrenaline exhaustion from working hard and exhausting her body in the gym made her luck sick and suffering. Her eyes were no longer perfectly circled by mascara to look sharp and sexy. They were the saddest eyes that he had ever since, as if years of sadness had carved into her face like a river carves canyons into a landscape.

He was leaning on his elbows looking down at her face far too long to take in all these details. There was a little wetness in the center corner of her eye. The wetness grew into a little water. It became a big, pregnant tear. Then, her lungs heaved as she cried out loud in sobbing.

He hugged her naked body as best as he could. There was no sex in the girl crying and him holding her. Yet, being so intimate with no boundary, neither fabric wise or emotionally, was extremely sexy. A hard erection grew in him, while he was holding her sobbing in his arms.

"That happens to me every morning," she cried out, struggling against the involuntary sobs to have enough control to form word by word. The saliva was heavy in her mouth from the crying. "I need my meds."

She leaned away from his full on embrace to reach for the orange bottle on the nightstand. She swallowed and crushed the white pill. Then, she snuggled back under his large body like a peaceful lamb under the shepherd.

He just held her and held her. He felt her little chest heaving against him. Tears, snot, and saliva was a running down her face and getting on him. After their sexual juices had blended on their bodies, and they had slept in it, sharing these fluids wasn't foreign and rejeactable anymore. And his raging erection was pushing against the hard abs of her belly.

Her sobbing calmed down until she was napping in his arms like a baby. He fell into a peaceful slumber as well. For once, he didn't have to be on guard against her spikes stinging him. He almost dreamed what it would be like to keep waking up to this mellow, yellow morning light in this tiny little bedroom.

The alarm chirped again. "I have to wash up for work now."

Lark got up. Her naked body walked out of the door. He watched her tight butt that could easily bounce a quarter. He watched her spine, the depression running down her bare back as it softly and elegantly moved with each step. The yoga training had made her body move with an earthy sophistication. He still had his raging hard on.