Important note: this second part is also quite soft, so if you're looking for a quick cum, move on to another story!
After what seemed like an hour or so of drowsing against her body, I woke up completely. The Dervish album I had put on earlier was still playing and I must've been awakened by a stronger moment. While we slept, we had shifted into more comfortable positions again: I was turned sideways on the couch, leaning against the back as well as the armrest. Julia was sprawled all over me, her back against my chest. Through all the movements, we had managed to keep our heads together. How interesting.
Another quite interesting fact that came to my attention was, again, Julia's breasts. I'm not usually such a breast-man: I'd take a nice pair of legs and ass anytime. But with such phenomenal breasts I could help myself. Her heavy breathing told me that she was deeply sleeping right now: my guess is that she and her boyfriend had had a very long night. Two of the most magnificent breasts I had ever had the pleasure of meeting were waiting, right there under my nose. Both my hands were also waiting. Sleeping / waiting / waiting: what else could I do?
I had no idea if Julia was a deep sleeper or not, but if she had managed to fall asleep against me I could guess that she was. Unable to resist I raised both my hands: one of them had been sleeping on the couch with us and the other had lazily been dozing on her belly. This last one reached Julia's breasts first, as it had probably been dreaming about it anyway. But the other one, jealous, took a bigger risk and came up fast. Fortunately for me, it slowed down just before touchdown.
Still half asleep (in fact it was going to be my excuse if ever she woke up. Yes, I know it's pretty weak. Lame in fact. But I -was- indeed asleep and I only had a precious few seconds to find something. Some things can't be kept waiting: sorry!), still half-asleep then, I felt both my hands closing on those pearls of pleasure and ecstasy (Yeah, that sounds sleazy and adolescent, I know. But I don't want to hear a word about it: none of you have seen or touched Julia's breasts! ...And by the way, that's how you fill an entire paragraph with parenthesis...)
Anyway as I was saying, every nerve endings from my palm to my fingertips were straining against my skin to reach through the fabric of her tee-shirt. The simple fact is that my fingers corroborated (confirmed, supported, backed-up... whichever you prefer) what my eyes had lead me to conclude: perky, joyous, fresh... you know the list. (So what, didn't you protest that my "pearls of pleasure and ecstasy" sounded too adolescent? What do you think about my "corroboration" then? Is that mature enough for you?...And by the way that's how you fill two paragraphs about touching breasts without saying anything about them...)
I was finally getting awake (clear-headed enough to stop making weird paragraphs and start this second part!) and the feelings of her breasts were flowing up my arms. As perky and fresh as they were, these were not barely developed breasts: they were heavy, matured breasts, womanhood through and through. The tee-shirt, which I discovered was quite thin, didn't really bother me. Sure I would have liked to feel them skin on skin. Then again, you enjoy what you can have and try to forget about the rest... So I did.
When I heard the door open, I was still fondling her breasts shamelessly. I don't know how long I've had the pleasure of doing it: it will forever remain a mystery. (But what I know for sure is that it was really shamelessly. I know: she was out of it and in a bad situation... What can I say?) It ended precipitously though: what if this was her boyfriend returning? All "sorry" and "I'll change..."? What if? Well then, the price of those sinful yet marvelous caresses would be a thorough beating-up. As you're all beginning to know me, you can probably guess that I was perfectly calm in face of such a contingency. What you may not know is that I ardently wished that my perfectly calm shaking wouldn't throw Julia down on the floor. Calm.
Came the familiar voice from the hallway. "Julia?" It was Maeve. Which I had known all along. So I just had to keep feeling perfectly calm and everything would be alright. When she poked her head in the living room, a lot of emotions flashed across her face: surprise, wonder, incomprehension, puzzlement again and a last bit of anger. "What is my roommate doing in the arms of my friend?" Was probably the number one question in her mind right now. Then, a few seconds later, understanding dawned on that beautiful face of hers. She mouthed "Jack" to me and I nodded gently.
She then walked in and kneeled down beside us. Slowly she woke up Julia and took her to her room. When she returned, she said she was sorry about all this. I told her that it was ok, but didn't tell her exactly why: some things are best kept secret. She showed me the closet that would be mine for as long as I stayed and helped me unpack my things. The couch where Julia and I had been sleeping was a futon and it would easily turn into my bed for the next few weeks.
Another Dervish album replaced the first I had chosen and Maeve and I went to the kitchen to fix dinner. As I had planned I went to the grocery and bought more than enough stuff for a great dinner. I owed it to Maeve and Julia for their generosity and it would perhaps make Julia feel better. When I came back Maeve was still working in the kitchen and she helped me with my too many bags. An hour later dinner was ready, one of my favorite dishes: salmon and a heap of vegetables, liberally strewn with spices.
As I was setting up the table, Maeve went and woke up Julia. She stayed quite a few minutes with her in the room but when they finally came back Julia looked good. No more red around the eyes: apparently she had shed no tears in bed. Things were looking better. That is, until her boyfriend came back. Damn him! We had barely finished eating and were about to move to the living room: an evening of music and discussion with two lovely girls: what else could one ask for? (Indeed: a lot more! But since I was not in any position to ask for it...)
Our plans got foiled though: Jack came back. And of course he had red eyes and looked terrible: the poor Jack was sorry and he had made a terrible mistake. Julia simply got up and went to her room and he followed. I looked at Maeve and was surprised to see that she was angry. Apparently, this was not the first time this sort of thing had happened in the last few months. She had thought that it was over this time... But no, Jack had to come back.
We cleaned up the table and spent the evening together anyway. It had been a long time since we had had a chance to talk alone, so we did. Montreal (like most big cities I guess) had a way of doing that: you live twenty minutes away from good friends but somehow you never have enough time to spend quality time with them. Tonight we did and it was a lot of fun. I spent the entire evening listening to great music, talking with a good friend... and looking at that good friend.
Good Gods! As much as Julia had surprised me earlier, Maeve was something else: not too tall, about 5'6", with the body of a young goddess. While Julia may have looked like a nymph with her lithe figure, long limbs and dangerous breasts, Maeve radiated something completely different. Instead of perky, young breasts, Maeve had full breasts, high and firm on her chest, wholly matured and developed like flowers in total bloom. Swimming and her work in massotherapy had given her lean, strong shoulders from where her breasts hung in their heavy splendor. Then her head was a marvel in itself: a beautiful face under a dark mane, much darker than Julia's. Deep brown, nearly black in fact: locks of barely curving hair that flowed from her head down to the small of her back. Beneath this head of hair were her equally dark eyes: two clear, intense eyes that could freeze any and all unsuspecting men... They had done that to me more than once in the past.
Adding to the swimming, her passion for mountain biking and hiking gave her entire body a tight and powerful shape. Her nice waist flared to the generous hips she had inherited from her mother. Below those curves were her legs, the legs of a mountain-biker. What else could you ask for? A masseuse with the body of a goddess...
The best part was that she knew it perfectly well: she played with her sensuality as well as her sexuality. Played with men and often women, teasing and arousing. What made those little games not only tolerable but fun was that she's always laughing -with us- through it all. Instead of leaving us panting with unspent desire, she makes us feel like we're on her side and that the teasing is an intimate inside joke. I don't know how she manages it, but she does. She's simply glowing with a laughing sensuality.
So we had a lot of fun that night. Even after those long weeks without seeing each other, that old intimate sensuality came back easily. We touched and hugged and lay in each other's arms all evening long. All in friendship though. We had never made that explicitly clear in the past, but our relationship had always been like this: close, intimate yet nothing more than that. When I had a girlfriend it suited me perfectly. Yet now, after nearly a year of celibacy, having her in my arms was somehow harder than it used to be. And once again I had to be careful about that threatening erection. It had happened in the past with Maeve and she had only smiled at me: a silent "thank you" for a compliment. For some reason, I didn't want it to happen tonight.
