For as long as I can remember, Ryan Anderson and I have been best friends. Our mothers were best friends, and all that time our families spent around one another lent itself to our becoming close. Ryan and I were inseparable ever since kindergarten. He was my protector and I was his sidekick. Together, we got into all sorts of messes that we had no business getting into. And, we wouldn't have if it weren't for the other person. Partners in crime, we were called, and we loved it.
We cleaned up our act in middle school when we realized potential boyfriends and girlfriends surrounded us in class. Though, no relationship amassed from the three years we spent at Polk Middle School. Ryan and I stuck by one another. And, because of that, many assumed we were dating. In our eyes, it was the grossest thing anyone could have accused us of. Dating one another, that was.
In high school, our behavior got even better. Ryan grew to a strong six feet. I stayed at about five foot three. He used to tease me about it. We both changed a lot. But we stayed close. Ryan dated a girl named Olivia for a few months our junior year. I dated Ricky for most of our senior year. We parted ways because we were leaving for college soon, as did Ryan and I. Us partners in crime stayed in contact for the four years we spent apart and, as soon as we could, we moved in together.
I had seen Ryan over holidays and breaks during college. But nothing prepared me for seeing him when we started looking at apartments. He was brilliant. Something that was created by the Gods. His eyes were a warm, comforting tone of milk chocolate. His short hair was a deep brown that had glints of reddish color in it. His broad shoulders held a magnificent face with strong cheekbones and a strong jawline. His olive skin complimented his perfect, white teeth and made everything about him so much more incredible. And, probably the most obviously attractive thing about him was his body. His muscles were well developed from being a construction worker. That, and, a strict diet that I teased him about. The man was oblivious to the effect he had on most women, and some men. And, the effect he was beginning to have on me.
As much as I've gone on about Ryan, I may as well describe myself. My name is Nicole Sherman. Some people call me Nic, or Nicky. But, most call me Nicole. I'm a somewhat petite woman in her early twenties. I have long, auburn hair that is most straight. My eyes are something of a sky-blue color. My body is nothing to turn your nose at. I've spent countless hours in the gym, sweating to erase the signs of the cookies and pasta I love so much. Those hours pay off. My body is slim and toned. It catches the eyes of men and women, on occasion. My skin is no where near as olive and tan as Ryan's. But, it has some warmth to it. My breasts are a solid 32C. Not too big, not too small. Same as my bum. Though, I would say it leans to the side of small, being as firm as it is.
About three weeks after we started apartment hunting, we found something. It was a perfect price and definitely gave us the space and location we needed. We moved in the next day. Four months in, we are still smitten with the place.
Now, my attraction to Ryan hasn't evaded me. In fact, it has made me a little more awkward around him. I find that whenever he is in close proximity of me, my heart begins to race a little. Cuddling on the couch after long days at work is no longer innocent in my eyes. The little kisses on the cheek he would sometimes give me now make my cheeks flush. Eventually, it all becomes to much.
It's Friday. The day everyone looks forward to. Ryan has just come home from work and I beat him by only a few minutes. While we are discussing, he strips his top layer. The sight of him in just a wife beater and some jeans is something out of a corny porno. And, if he was the star, it is one I would watch. I hear him saying my name and I snap back into attention.
"Yeah?" I ask, my cheeks hot from being caught staring.
Ryan chuckles at me. "I asked if Chinese takeout would be good."
I nod at him, sucking down some cold water to hopefully disguise the pinkness in my cheeks. He calls to place an order of food and I take the time we will be waiting to change out of my work clothes. I slip into some grey sweats and a loose pink t-shirt. I forego a bra or underwear, trying to give everything a chance to breathe. I come out and find that Ryan has also changed. He's in black basketball shorts and a blue t-shirt. He looks like an Abercrombie model, even after a long ass day of work. So not fair.
I plop down on the couch and begin messing around on my phone while we wait for the food. Ryan does the same after turning on the TV and scooting as humanly close to me as he can. Unconsciously, I lay my head on his arm and he kisses the top of my head.
"Ryan?" I murmur after a moment.
He responded with a short, "Hmm?"
I can't believe I am actually going to do this. I swallow hard and look up at him. "Why did you laugh earlier when you caught me staring?" He looks taken aback, and I don't blame him for that. In a moment of panic, I start to pull away. "Sorry. I shouldn't have asked that. You were just laughing. It didn't mean-" I'm cut off when I feel his arm wrap around my wrist and pull my back against him. No words are exchanged, just looks. Then, our lips are touching. His full lips press back against my own. Years of desire being unloaded into this one kiss. Our tongues enter the mix and battle each other for dominance. We pull apart to catch our breath and I start placing kisses on his jaw. Before I know it, we are kissing again. I'm moaning and have moved so that I am straddling his waist. I slowly rock my hips against his, his growing cock pushing against me.
