**This is an edited version of the first story I ever wrote and published. I wrote a different version this story under a different username in 2017.**
It had been a long time coming. I had met Jax through a mutual friend, and I ended up joining his circle of friends in college. I knew him from afar for over five years, but we were never really close. The group would regularly attend music festivals together. I didn't get the chance to know him as well as I would have liked because he was "off-limits." Jax was cute, that was obvious, but his girlfriend was always glued to his side, playing goalie against anyone who tried to get close to him. I knew he was friendly, sweet, and down to earth by the way he welcomed me into their group, but he was more of an acquaintance than a friend...at first.
Eventually years went by and Jax became single. We didn't live in the same city, but we kept in touch online through social media. He'd visit friends in my city, I'd visit friends in his city, and inevitably I ran into Jax at a concert or two. His energy was magnetic and mesmerizing. I felt addicted to his presence. He was so friendly and flirty to me. I clung onto his every word, craving his glances, starving for them.
I continued seeing his posts social media, seeing not only his artistic eye for photography, but his personality too. He was extremely sarcastic and made everyone laugh. But he had an intriguing deep intellect, as well. He often commented on my photos complimenting me. My crush kept growing, and I soon realized how truly sexy he was.
One morning, I saw a photo of his half-naked body in a pulled-down wetsuit in Manhattan Beach, after one of his early morning surf sessions. My eyes were instantly caught at attention by his v-line muscles that inevitably pointed to... well, you know what. His wet, tanned, lean, muscular body glistened effortlessly in the sun, and something white-hot lit up inside of me too. I couldn't help but wonder what he would look like without that surf suit on. That's when a crush ignited into lust. I began fantasizing about him, touching myself to his pictures, imagining his hands on my body and what he would feel like inside me.
Out of the blue, I gave him a call one day. I didn't expect him to even pick up the phone, let alone a response. I was feeling lonely and upset, and I was pleasantly surprised at the genuine person who comforted me, even though we weren't necessarily even close friends at the time. During a sad, dark time in my life, he allowed me to lean on him via texts. He said everything that I needed to hear to make me feel better. It was then that I knew he was a truly kind and genuine person. The fact that he had been such a good platonic friend despite our geographical distance made me realize that I never got the chance to know how sweet this man really was.
His kindness only further encouraged the lust that was aching deep inside of me. But I had no idea when I might see him again. For several months, we continued to flirt online, a prolonged, seemingly endless foreplay. Nothing explicitly sexual, but I was sure he knew I was interested. I was left craving, aching to see what would happen if, when, he and I got a chance to be alone.
Then, when I was in his town, I finally got my chance.
I texted him pretty late one night after I went to dinner with some friends, letting him know that I was in town. He responded almost immediately: "Come over." At this point we were just friends, but that demanding text was so hot, I didn't think twice about going. I made an excuse to leave dinner early.
Once I arrived and hopped out of the taxi, it was past midnight, and in the back of my mind I wondered if we were actually going to hang out as friends... or do something else. I told myself things would be platonic, that I was getting my hopes up, it was just wishful thinking. But part of me hoped nonetheless...
I was a bit giggly from a little tequila I had had with dinner. The tequila buzz gave me a boost of much-needed confidence. When I arrived and he answered the door, shirtless in his jeans, I felt my insides tighten with warm pleasure. I was actually seeing Jax, in the flesh, after ten long months. There he was, this sexy, enticing man, living up to every image that I had conjured in my head, in photos, and somehow he was so much more. I sensed his magnetic energy as soon as I walked through the door, and was immediately put at ease when there was absolutely no awkward tension. It was just us. He stood there, with that dark wavy surf hair, those hazel-green eyes, a few perfectly placed freckles on his face, and beach-tanned skin. I quickly picked up on the fact that he was completely carefree, very comfortable with himself. It felt like he had somewhat of a beach-hippie mentality of living in the moment. I ate it up. Jax was confident in every way. He wasn't playing any mind games, or trying to keep it cool. He was actually happy to see me. It was refreshing and I felt immediately at ease.
We talked in the living room for a bit. I was nervous. After a bit, he pointed me to his room. I put my purse and sweater down in the living room, then headed to his room while he followed. I sat on a chair. My heart was pounding. I, no, we, were in his small bedroom. He kept gushing shamelessly with that adorable smile with excitement. He was so genuine when he told me "I'm seriously so happy you're here right now." He surprisingly took his jeans off like it was nothing, showing a pair of grey striped boxer shorts. He goofily leaped into his bed with the carefree spirit of one of Peter Pan's Lost Boys. I giggled, I simply couldn't resist him. I adored and admired how secure he was with himself, how he embraced life, and fact that he simply didn't care how he came across. He did whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, and lived in the presence of each fleeting moment.
He was so adorable, excited, giddy that I was there. As I sat in the chair, he looked over to me from in his bed.. "Oh man, Olivia, this bed is sooooooo comfortable," he teased mischieviously. He was clearly hinting at something. I laughed, but it felt a little too soon. I wanted him to at least humor me, maybe chat with me as a friend first. I was nervous because almost our entire friendship had been online. I didn't want to readily jump right into his bed with him without even saying a word. Could I trust him? I wanted him to earn it -- to earn me. Then again, why go through the awkward small talk? The fact was, he had already gained my trust, and let's cut the bullshit... we knew what we had been craving for months. I knew all of this before I even came into town, before I got a ride to his house, before I sat in his room in that chair. How could I not trust him? He was an old friend. He made me feel at ease. I had melted under his spell. He was sweet, silly, sexy, funny, hot... and, I imagined, amazing in bed. Mindblowing, actually, as I was about to find out.
He turned the lights off. The room was illuminated by the soft light of the full moon shining through his window. It was too perfect. He gently grabbed my hand and I reached out, feeling his soft skin, already tantalized by his touch, as I joined him in his bed. I mean, he wasn't lying about the bed... it was really comfortable. A white down comforter that smelled like clean laundry greeted me as I laid down facing him, his amazing body, half naked next to mine. "Oh my god Olivia... I can't believe you're in my bed right now. I've wanted this for so long," he gushed. His honest and genuine excitement was so refreshing. He knew exactly what to say. As we embraced, exploring each others' bodies for the first time, I was hypnotized with pleasure at the touch of his incredibly smooth and soft skin. He kept showering me with compliments, touching my arms, hair, and back. He was so gentle and soft about it... savoring each touch. I felt safe immediately.
I strongly ran my fingers through his hair as he laid next to me and he groaned at my touch. It was so arousing thinking that such a simple action turned him on so much, that my touch had such power over him. I did that for a minute, teasing him, building up his desire. Already I could feel a bulge urgently pressing against my thigh. It was torture to ignore it, but I wanted things to be perfect before I went for my true goal. I put my hand on his face and pulled it towards mine and kissed him softly, passionately. We pulled each other in tighter.
Honestly, with any other guy, I would have cut to the chase and immediately jumped into a rough lust. But I was shocked at how incredible it felt to go slowly like this. The caressing, the kissing, the passion, it was surprising natural it felt. It was like fireworks were igniting over us. His lips were so soft. They were a perfect fit, as though we had been made for each other.
I could feel his hard cock through his boxers on my throbbing nether region. My eyes rolled back into my head with pleasure. I was aching with desire. Our bodies fit together like yin and yang. We had instant chemistry. It was so natural being with Jax. No shyness, no doubts, no self-consciousness. I kissed him over and over. He moaned, and when I pulled away he said "Oh my god, you're so fucking sexy. I've wanted this for so long." Down between my legs, I ached with desire, because I felt exactly the same way.