It had been a long time coming. I had met Jax through a mutual friend from high school, 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 and concerts 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 certain, 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 time went on and Jax became single. Even though I was 300 miles on the other side of the state, 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. I clung onto his every word, craving his glances like I was starving for them.
I continued to follow him on social media, seeing not only his eye for photography, but his personality too. He was extremely sarcastic and made everyone laugh. But he had an intriguing 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 his surely ample package. 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 great person who comforted me. During a sad, dark time in my life, he allowed me to lean on him. 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 living on opposite sides of the state was a significant barrier, and 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'm 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 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." We were just friends, so I didn't think twice about what might happen. I wanted to see him. Though 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 and and watch Netflix. I told myself things would be platonic, that I was getting my hopes up, the victim of wishful thinking. But part of me hoped nonetheless...
I was a bit giggly from a little tequila I had had with dinner. I wasn't drunk by any means, a nice little buzz. Tequila 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 hair, those hazel-green eyes, and surfer-tanned skin. I quickly picked up on the fact that he was very comfortable with himself and his life. It was somewhat of a beach-hippie mentality of living in the moment. I ate it up. Jax was confident in every way, and happy to see me. Very happy, if that bulge in his jeans was any indication.
He pointed me to his room. I put my purse and sweater down, and he followed. I sat on a chair. My heart was pounding. I, no, we, were in his bedroom. He kept gushing shamelessly with that adorable smile with excitement. "Wow, Olivia, I'm seriously so happy you're here right now. I can't believe you're actually in my room, in my house!" He surprisingly took his jeans off showing a pair of grey striped boxer shorts. He goofily jumped 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 present of each fleeting moment.
He was so adorable, excited, giddy that I had blessed him with my presence. As I sat in the chair, he looked over to me from in his bed.. "Oh man, Olivia, this bed is so comfortable," he teased. Or was he hinting? I laughed. 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 both Jax and I 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 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. 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. True to his word, the bed was very comfortable. A soft white down comforter smelling like clean laundry greeted me, as well as his amazing body, half naked next to mine. "Oh, 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, his ingenuous forthrightness, 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, with the worshipful reverence of a devotee before his goddess.
I 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. My touch had such power over him. I did that for a minute, teasing him, building up his desire. Already I could feel his manhood 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 gently pulled his face towards mine and kissed him softly, passionately. We pulled each other in tighter. The caressing, the kissing, the passion, it was all kind of incredible how natural it felt. It was like fireworks were igniting over us. His lips were so soft. His lips on mine were a perfect fit, as though we had been made for each other.
I could feel his bulge 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 can't believe this is actually happening, Olivia. I've wanted this for so long." Down between my legs, I ached with desire, because I felt exactly the same way.
After months of foreplay, I was ready to give him a night he would never forget. I climbed on top of him, straddling him from above, and took my top off slowly, teasing him. I wasn't wearing a bra, so my C-cup breasts bounced perfectly for him when it came off. "Oh my god, your tits are amazing, Olivia," he gasped. "They're just perfect." I touched my nipples and played with them to put on a little show for him, coaxing them to hardness. I leaned down to his beautiful face as he held my soft, natural breasts in his hands, and skillfully played with my nipples. I moaned and licked my lips. Kissing him slowly, I worked my way up his neck, revealing a little bit of tongue with each kiss. I teased him very slowly with my plump, luscious lips. Back in high school, a boy had called them DSL. I had no idea what that meant back then, so I had to look it up. Once I had, I had to admit he was right.
I made my way down his smooth and tan chest and abs to the bulge in his boxers. I could feel the heat of his cock nearing my face. I kissed it slowly outside of his clothes. He moaned, sending shivers of satisfaction down our bodies. I unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans that, by the look of the outline of his bulge, were clearly ready to pop. I slowly slid my fingers under the top band of his boxers. I pulled them down ever so slightly, so only the tip of his circumcised cock peeked out the top. I licked the tip to tease him and was rewarded with a primal groan. I slowly, passionately kissed down the length of his cock, pulling his boxers down inch by inch as I did so. I inched back up and licked the tip of his cock a tiny bit again, caressing his head with my tongue.
