This is my first submission to Literotica.
The below is not full of chandelier swinging kinky sex fests. In fact there is no sex. That's said, it does set the stage for a sexual adventure that I never conceived, continue to enjoy and which I am now putting down in writing.
I hope you enjoy what follows.
*****
I have a friend, a great friend, a friend that's a girl. Well she's a woman. A beautiful smooth brown skinned lady of curves with long black hair, brown soulful eyes and a great sense of humour, who exudes sexiness and sensuality. She's smart too. Her name is Gypsy. Well actually it's not; she just used to have a gypsy styled dress and an exotic look so I gave her the nickname shortly after we first met.
"Cool, she sounds great, So what's the problem?" You ask.
It's the fourth word in the first sentence... "friend."
Friend as in the old fashioned sense of the word. Friend as in the one you call, before your lawyer, if arrested at three in the morning for something ridiculously embarrassing. Friend as in the person you hold up there with close family members whose interests you put before yours.
Now don't get me wrong, it's not the traditional Friend Zone issue. We have had our time together but that was over ten years ago. Friend zone frustration would kill a guy after that period of time. You can't wait ten years to once again indulge in the kind of mind blowing sex that made your eyes water, your legs weak and your muscles ache from the exertion.
Over the last ten years she has had her boyfriends and while I have not had anything resembling a serious relationship, there have been liaisons of one type or another.
So, you see she really is a friend, albeit one that is beyond hot and turns men's heads in a way that is almost comical. I take great pleasure if the two of us are out and people assume we are an item. It is a great boost for the ego when all men want her, all women want to be her and then they look at me thinking, "how the hell did they get together."
Gypsy is also an unrelenting flirt. She'll sway, smoulder, smile, place a touch here, give a look there and say the right words to leave me barely hanging on to myself control. She knew that she was safe to do it and that I would always remain the gentleman. She knew that she turned me on, but she was always blissfully unaware of exactly what we get up to in my dreams and fantasies. That was until recent events took a turn for the better.
Gypsy knows what she is, Beauty personified and sexiness defined. She's not big headed about it, it's a simple fact. The sky is blue, the grass is green, water is wet and Gypsy is beautiful, sexy and generally incredible to look at. Did I mention that she's smart too?
She lives for music and dancing. With the right encouragement; typically some wine, the right music and me beseeching her to do it, Gypsy will dance for me. At my place or hers, she has her own little routines that blow my mind, put a bulge in my pants and make life good.
I take a lot of pictures of her, she's beautiful and a great subject. The occasional phenomenal picture becomes her profile pic for a while, the rest just sit on my lap top, I have hundreds, she loves the attention and always poses, pouts sways and acts up for the camera.
We spent New Year's Eve together last year. For various reasons neither of us wanted crowds. So as we typically do, we sat, drank, laughed, ate (she's also an incredible cook) and enjoyed each other's company. Gypsy was talking about a dress she bought, maybe a strange thing to talk to a guy about but she knows how I look at her.
"Try it on for me" I said, her jeans and T-shirt although admirable are not my favourite things to see her in.
Oh wow, an emerald green, ankle length, figure hugging, low cut representation of awesomeness. She somehow manages to hit the sweet point of combining elegance, sexiness, sophistication, power and passion quite easily.
"You look incredible" I told her, "breathtakingly sexy."
She thrives on compliments from me. Again it's a matter of friendship; she knew that I am not trying to get her into bed. Did I think about it? Oh hell yes, but her friendship means everything to me, so I never did do anything outside of my fantasies. To this day if I tell her how good she looks it is for no ulterior reasons, it's just plain honesty.
"Here, let me try another one on for you," She said with a perfect smile. One that I know means she is going to once again, start to play the unobtainable, untouchable object of my desires.
She knew it got me worked up, turned on and looking at her with unbridled lust and want. She loved the attention. For me the payoff was that I found her far better inspiration than logging on and thumping one off to a cheesy porn clip.
What followed was a fashion show of note, ranging from the classically elegant to a slutty little number. That one had me rearranging the way I sat, have a subtle grab down my pants when she was turned away, pull my erection up to my belt and relieve the discomfort of its previous angle.
The folder on my laptop from New Year's Eve has 127 pictures on it. Some blurred, some poorly lit, you know how it is with a live subject, but some are incredible. My favourite is the one of her leaning over and blowing a kiss in that emerald green dress. All breasts, ass, curves and beauty.
It was only a few weeks later that she was around at my place. I managed to get a slightly tipsy Gypsy up and dancing for me. Yet again I watched in awe and snapped away taking pic after pic. She had a low cut very short summer dress on, with skin tight pants covering her shapely legs.
So there I was snapping away as she danced when she adjusted her top. As she pulled the top of the dress away from her I took the camera and pointed it down towards her cleavage. To be honest I was shocked, not only because of my boldness, but also at her when she laughed said something about me being a perv and carried on dancing as though I had done nothing.
