My Introduction To Cfnm Ch 01

Author's Note: I apologize for the slow start on this story. This is a new genre for me, perhaps I'll continue it if the comments are positive.

I have come to accept the fact that there are many different levels of love and lust. For example, you can love your car or your favorite rock band, but that type of love isn't the love that will fill your heart with happiness and make you feel warm and content from morning to night. For the most part, you'll only get that kind of fulfillment from loving another human being.

To go along with that, we can lust for someone we see, perhaps a person that catches our eye in a certain way, but in most cases, that lust is only a fleeting wish.... a mere unobtainable twinge of excitement when we see them – then it's gone once the moment passes or they are out of sight.

So, alas, many of us are destined to accept and be satisfied with what ever love and lust we happen to have available to us at any given point in time. We accept these available levels of love and lust because that's the practical thing to do. We settle for what we have and the rest becomes fantasies, wishes and dreams.

Of course, the best possible situation is when the person you have available to love is the same person you constantly and fully lust for. It's even better if that person reflects back your love and lust so that the two of you feed each other's feelings, wants and desires. I don't know many people who have that kind of reflecting relationship. But, I do know a few, and I am, as you might be, incredibly jealous of them.

While I used to consider myself happy in love, the truth is that I have settled for what is within reach. Running parallel to that is the fact that I used to consider myself happy in lust, too. But, I realize now that I have settled for what is within reach there, also. While the love and lust within reach used to be enough to keep me satisfied, I find myself more and more looking for that robust and deeply contenting love and the lust that goes along with it hand in hand.

That brings me to a point to where I can start this story.

I have heard it said that for each person, there is a perfect mate. For each of us there is someone, somewhere who we can unconditionally love perfectly and completely, both from the heart and from the crotch. You know what I mean, don't you? That certain person with whom you would be eternally satisfied to simply sit next to, or to hug, or just hold hands with. It's the person whom you sexually desire so much that it's not your own sexual pleasure you long for – but, in fact, it's their pleasure and gratification which brings you joy. We have all known that one perfect love, or had one, or had the chance with one - that perfect person that tweaked you just the right way in your heart and deep in your undies.

For me, it's not a matter of thinking back to the past. She's a friend of mine – my friend Sharron. I've known her for at least ten years. Most people would characterize our relationship as being platonic, but for me, it's much more. She is, without a doubt, my perfect love.... and my perfect lust. The only problem is that she hasn't realized it (yet). I'm pretty sure she sees me as her "non-threatening male" since I've never really tried to hit on her.

Now, being seen as a non-threatening male is both a good thing, and a bad thing. It's a good thing because it opens up a lot of opportunities to be together when she doesn't have to have her guard up and she can simply be herself.

When it's only the two of us together, I get the greatest joy just being in Sharron's presence. She is, for me, the most beautiful and the sexiest woman in the world. And, given half the chance, I know I could easily be hopelessly and totally in love with her.

We've shared secrets, helped each other with our ups and downs, gone through episodes of car problems, illnesses, surgeries....... you name it and we've either done it or shared it.

On the flip side, being the non-threatening male can also be horrible because I can't really show any affection to her as a woman since that might destroy the special relationship I have with her as the non-threatening male. If she knew that I was in a constant state of sexual excitement when I was around her, or that it was her face and her body I dreamed of when I masturbated, how would she react?

All of that became a mute point a few weeks ago, though. In the flash of an eye, it all changed and an opportunity was created where one had never before existed. That's what this story is about.

We both happened to find ourselves out after work one night, helping a friend celebrate her birthday at a local watering hole. Eight or nine of us sat around the table trading stories and telling each other what we've been up to. Eventually, Sharron and I ended up sitting next to each other. Of course, after a few drinks our knees had accidentally touched under the table, and our elbows had rubbed – all of it harmless touching, but it was driving me to a point where my cock was about to explode. I'm sure she didn't even realize what she was doing to me - the innocent nature of it creating just the right tension to set me on a long, slow boil.

As the waitress returned to check our drinks, one of the girls with us ordered "Sex On The Beach". My ears and eyes perked up upon hearing those words. Seeing my surprised expression, the girl of my dreams leaned over to me and whispered "It's a drink, silly."

Now, I don't get out to the bars much and I'm definitely not up to date on the latest drink names, but when she saw the curious look on my face she said "Don't tell me you've never had Sex On The Beach?" Before I could answer, Sharron leaned in close to me and said "Or, maybe you would prefer to try a Slippery Nipple?"

I couldn't stop my self, and, with the alcohol firmly in control I took a chance and answered her in a way that could have a very broad interpretation. "Damn, I'd almost be willing to get naked for that!"

"Ah," Sharron replied, "so the idea of having a Slippery Nipple with me appeals to you, does it?"

"Baby," I answered confidently and nonchalantly, "you have no idea how much I would give to share a slippery nipple with you."

As she pulled back, her eyebrows rose and I saw clearly that she fully realized the embedded and implied meaning of my reply. She was surprised, I could see that, but she didn't act disgusted or mad at my comment. I dared not go any further with it, though. She got the message, I was sure of it.

The next hour was filled with more innocent touching of our hands, shoulders and feet. For me, it was pure torture since it only served to increase my level of excitement, causing my hard-on to throb uncontrollably in my pants. I doubt she knew I was about to go over the edge and spontaneously erupt inside my jeans, spewing hot cum all over myself. When I knew I could take no more of it, I made up an excuse and told them I had to go.

They all said goodbye to me as I started to gather my things and stand to leave. But in the semi-darkness of the bar, she stood also and moved toward me to give me a gentle, friendly hug. I'm sure those who saw the hug might not have thought much about it, but, when I felt her breasts swell into me and her pelvis press firmly into my engorged erection, 'friendly' was not the word I would have used.

"We'll have to work on that slippery nipple thing." Sharron whispered. "Who knows, I just might call your bluff."

"It's no bluff." I replied, looking directly at her. "I assure you," I added, "I wasn't kidding." For a minute, she appeared shocked. Then a small smile appeared at the corners of her mouth. As I turned to walk toward the door, she gave me a little wave to send me on my way.

Knowing the alcohol must have moved her to tease me, I didn't give our brief conversation much thought as I left the bar. But after a few minutes and as I was about to pull out of the bar parking lot, I got a text page from her on my cell phone asking "U were just kidding right?"

Answering as quickly as I could, I text paged her back saying "No, I wasn't kidding."

I didn't see her again for a few of days. But she called my cell phone one morning while I was at work asking if I wanted to meet her for lunch that afternoon. So without much discussion I answered "Sure" and we made plans to meet for lunch.

During our lunch neither she, nor I, brought up the subject of the bar, the slippery nipple, or my comment about being naked. That is..... until it was time to leave.

It was my turn to pay the check. So after I paid and the waiter brought me my change, she casually got up from where she was sitting on her side of the booth and quietly slipped into the booth right beside me. As I scooted over to make room for her, she crossed her arms over her chest and announced that I wasn't going anywhere until we finished our discussion from the night at the bar.

"Okay," I said, "which discussion was that?"

"Come on, don't play dumb. You know damn well what discussion I'm talking about." She replied.

"Is this about the slippery nipple comment?" I asked.

"Well," she interrupted, "if I remember correctly, I think you said something about willing to get naked when I asked if you wanted to try a Slippery Nipple."

"Oh, please," I said, trying to protect my non-threatening male position, "you know we were all drinking that night."

"The way it sounded to me was that you made some kind of offer to get naked if I showed you my nipple." She explained. "Then when I text paged you to ask if you were serious about it, you said you were. Am I missing something here, or, is my memory going bad?"

I couldn't look her square in the eyes. I reached for the glass of water sitting in front of me and I took a big gulp. "Actually," I said, "I didn't specifically say those words, but, that was definitely the intent. I really didn't expect you to pick up on it, though."

"Then I picked up on it correctly, didn't I?" She asked. "You would get naked if I showed you my nipple?"

"Yes," I answered.

"You mean you would get totally naked and stand in front of me like that just to see my nipple?" She asked again.

This time I looked at her when I answered. "Yes," I replied, "I would."

"Just to see my nipple? One nipple? Don't you think that's kind of an extreme thing to do just to see a stupid nipple?" She asked. "Why would you do that?"

"You wouldn't understand," I replied, "I don't think you could ever understand, Sharron."

"Well, why don't you try me," she said, "maybe I'll understand if you explain it to me."

At this point, I was in a no win situation. There wasn't much I could do to get myself out of this mess. The best I could do is be truthful with her and hope she would understand.

"Sharron," I began, "before I explain, will you promise to forgive me for anything I might say and promise it won't ever affect our friendship?"

"I promise," she replied, adding "we've been friends far too long for anything as ridiculous as a nipple to come between us. Besides, what's the big deal about a nipple, anyway?"

"I'm glad you feel that way, and I hope you still feel that way after you hear me out." I said. "And, remember you promised to forgive me.... I'm going to hold you to that."

"Yeah, ok," she replied, "so what's all this about?"

"The truth is, uh, and this is hard for me say.... is that I love you." I started out. "I mean, I'm in love with you. Not just as my friend, but, as a woman, too. I dream about you every night, Sharron, and when I think about making love, I dream that it's you I'm making love with."

A look of surprise came over her face and any semblance of a smile was wiped away as her face went totally blank.

I went on to explain to her that I didn't know when or how it started, but that it just happened and then grew deeper over time. I recounted many of the fun times we had together and how she was the first thing I thought of in the morning and the last thing I thought about at night. I told her that other women didn't interest me and I confessed to her my total devotion and love. I even told her how I fantasized about her when I masturbated. All in all, I must have talked for a good twenty minutes before I was done. When I finished, she sat there for a minute and then reached out to grasp my hand before she spoke.

"I really don't know what to say, you know?" She began. "I never expected this after so many years just being friends. I'm flattered that you feel that way about me, but, I would be leading you on if I told you I felt the same."

My heart sank and I saw ten years of my life begin to dissolve into nothing. Now I was going to lose her as my friend with absolutely no hope of anything else at all. I felt shattered.

Seeing my pain, she squeezed my hand in hers and continued, saying, "You have to know that you are, without a doubt, my closest friend... my oldest and best friend. The one I can count on when it really matters and the last one in the world that I would ever want to hurt. You're the only guy in the world that has treated me as a real and true friend. You've never done anything to make me question your motives and you've never lied to me. You've never done the typical guy things like try to trick me into going to bed with you or tried to get into my pants.... you're my perfect friend. But, I could never be your girlfriend – don't you see? And I do love you, too. Really I do, but it's not the kind of love you want us to have. It's not the man-woman kind of love. I would do anything for you, but you can't live your life everyday waiting for me to come around and finally become your girlfriend and lover. I can't let you do that to yourself."

"Please don't be hurt," she added, "and please don't stop being my best friend or let this get in between us. You mean too much to me to let that happen."

As I listened to her, it hit me that she was truly moved with my admission and confession. As she spoke, she held my hand in her lap and at some point, I knew that the torch I was carrying for her needed to be put out. I needed to let her go.

By the time we finished talking, two hours had gone by and the waiter had been by every 15 minutes to see if we wanted anything. We'd ordered some coffee so we could sit together without being bothered, and the waiter was courteous enough not to hover around us while we sat there. During our talk, we both had momentary bouts of tearing, and as we worked through it, we held each other's hand.

Emotionally, I felt like I had been in a wreck. I had laid out my heart and soul to her, and although she was gentle as she rejected my love, it still took a tremendous toll on me and I felt tired and exhausted.

"So," she asked, "are you okay?"

"Yeah, I think so. It feels good to have finally told you, even though it didn't turn out the way I wanted. I'll be fine, though." I answered.

"I guess that just leaves one more thing," she replied, "the slippery nipple thing."

I laughed. Sharron did, too, but when our laughter died down, she reminded me, saying "I think you made an offer we need to talk about."

Now it was my turn to be surprised. What was she alluding to?

"I think," she said, as she leaned back against the padding in the booth, "you eluded to the fact that you would get naked if I showed you my nipple?"

I laughed again, but this time, she wasn't laughing with me. "You can't be serious. You mean after the talk we just had?" I asked.

"Now don't misunderstand me here," she said, "but, you're kind of a cute guy and I wouldn't mind seeing you naked. Besides, as close as we've been for the last ten years, I'm surprised we haven't seen each other naked before. What could it hurt?"

I had to stop myself from seeing this as an opportunity to change her mind about loving me as I paused to consider her logic. Did I want to see her nipple? Yes, I guess so. I've lusted after her for ten years and never seen any part of her charms uncovered. This might be the only chance I'll ever get to see her bare breast, and who knows, maybe she'll feel sorry for me and I might get a hand job or maybe a blow job...... hell, I might even get a mercy fuck!"

But, before I could open my mouth to agree, she asked me, "Have you ever heard of CFNM?"

I had no idea of what she was talking about and I'm sure the expression on my face showed it. "No," I answered, "is that another kind of drink?"

"Not hardly." She said, chuckling softly. "It stands for Clothed Female Nude Male. It's where a man completely undresses and stays naked while in the presence of a female. It's something I read about on the internet and it sounds fascinating."

"Is it some kind of punishment, or game, or something like strip poker?" I asked.

"No," she explained, "I read that it's probably more like a fetish. Some men actually like being naked around women, and some women simply like to see a naked man without any strings attached. You wouldn't turn down the chance to see me, or some other woman naked would you?"

"Are you kidding? I would love to see you naked." I answered.

"Then, why wouldn't I want to see you or another man naked?" She asked.

She had me there. I'll be the first to admit that I wouldn't turn away from a naked female. But, this was really weird. Especially after just telling her I was in love with her and that I've lusted after her for ten years. Now she's trying to get me naked. It made no sense at all.

"I'm really confused, Sharron." I said. "When I told you I was in love with you, you made it sound like there would never be anything between us besides friendship. Now, we're talking about being naked in front of each other. Isn't that close to teasing me?"

"Whoa, boy. Slow down there." She replied. "I didn't say anything about me being naked in front of you. I said this was Clothed Female – Nude Male, remember? That means you would be naked and I would be dressed. Well, I would let you see my nipple, but, other than that, I would be dressed."

"Oh, come on!" She added. "It will be fun! It will be just us and I'll never tell anyone. You can come over in the morning, and stay at my place all day. You've done that hundreds of times. You told me you've always wanted to go to a nude beach..... you even asked me to go to one with you. What the difference? I'll fix a nice dinner for us, and then you can go home. We'll just spend the day together. No problem."

It was true, I did ask her once if she would go to a nude beach with me, but that was a purely selfish and feeble attempt on my part to see her topless or naked. I didn't necessarily intend it as an opportunity for me to be naked in front of her for hours. Still though, the thought of being naked in front of the one I loved, was appealing, and the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to say 'yes'.

"Let's just say I was okay with this," I offered, "you're going to show me your bare nipple.... and for more than one second?"

"Yes," she answered, "I promise I'll let you look at it longer than a second. Jeez!"

"And what if I, you know.... get an erection while I'm there?" I asked.

"I have seen other men naked, you know." Sharron replied. "I know guys get hard-ons. If you get one, it will be okay. I won't mind at." Her face broke into a huge grin as she said, "Really, I won't mind at all and I'll try not to stare too long."

"Oh, great!" I sighed. "I'll be walking around with a hard-on for hours while you're staring at it."

"Well," she said, "you can always, uh, take care of it, you know."

"You mean masturbate while I'm at your house?" I asked.

"Sure, why not? Everyone does it. You already told me you do it. I don't think that would bother me at all." She said. "In fact," she continued, "I'd love to watch."

At that, I snapped my head around and looked at her. She sat there smiling back at me, hunching her shoulders up and holding her hands up as if to say "what's the big deal?"