Note:
This story is technically a sequel to "I Wrestled My Best Friend." However, you do not need to have read that story to understand or appreciate this one. All characters are 18+.
*******
"Please Jacob," said Elle, "Fuck me."
Elle had been my best friend for years. I'd heard her voice in countless moods and inflections, from upbeat and mischievous, to controlled and intellectual. But I'd never heard her sound like this. She was breathy. Her voice nearly cracked under her desperation when she said,
Fuck
.
This lust hadn't come on suddenly. About an hour earlier, Elle had challenged me to a wrestling match, her tone and posture bouncy, assured of her victory. Instead, I totally dominated her. Pinned her again, and again, and again. All the grabbing, squirming, sweating, our breath on each other's necks and in each other's ears, had unearthed something primal. She'd begged me to strip her, to expose her heavy boobs and hard little nipples. I'd flipped her over, spanked her thick ass.
Now she lay on her belly, so I couldn't see that gorgeous face, but I got an eyeful of her long, dark mane. It was a mess of sweaty waves.
"Fuck me," she begged.
"I need this," I whispered back. My dick already teased her labia. Occasionally the tip brushed her clit, which made her moan. But I couldn't figure out how to push past. We were both virgins.
I adjusted myself, so I nearly laid my chest on her back. I held myself over her, propped on my elbows, intoxicated by the sweat-and-shampoo scent of her hair. We were so close. We grinded into each other, my dick practically swimming in between her labia.
Even without full-on penetration, she felt amazing. Her ass and vulva pushing back against my dick, rubbing it, stroking it, while it stroked her back. The physical sensation was irresistible, but even better was knowing this was
Elle
. This was my best friend's wetness, from my best friend's pussy, coating the top of my dick, filling in the pinched, sensitive skin below my head. Neither of us had ever done anything so intimate.
I had decided penetration wasn't possible tonight, but was still overjoyed with the experience. We kept grinding, moaning, sweating, enjoying what we had, and then-
God, I can close my eyes and remember it as vividly as ever. My penis pushed past, and suddenly I felt my head gripped on all sides by her warm, slick vagina. She was beautifully tight, like her whole body clung to me, accepted me, affirmed me.
Elle shifted her ass, attempting to fit more of my dick. I slid back and forth, enough to stimulate slightly different nerves, but not enough to risk slipping out of her. I doubted I'd be able to fit it back in, if I fell out. Then the walls of her pussy clenched. Health class had
not
prepared me for that. I nearly exploded inside of her. I breathed and growled and shut my eyes to stop myself. When the walls loosened back, my penis pushed deeper inside of her.
The rhythm continued. Tiny ins-and-outs from me, while Elle adjust her ass, and her pussy pulled me in further, further, further.
My lips were flush against the rim of her ear as I moaned. I adjusted my hands, wriggling them beneath her, until they were clenched between the floor and her body. My knuckles were buried in the carpet, and her cool, soft tits filled my palms. I held them for support, massaged them, experimented by pinching her nipples between my fingers. Her moans let me know when I was doing it right.
My hands on her boobs gave me the leverage I needed. I angled my hips, and slid, and slid, and slid. I felt her open up to me, soaking me, until my waist hit her ass. The impact sent ripples through her full, round flesh.
I've heard not everyone's first time is great. I think all our accidental foreplay, our wrestling, made the difference. But it wasn't just good. I felt as if every nerve was awakened, and glowing in her warmth. In that moment, nothing was as important as thrusting into her. This was the meaning of life. This was the greatest joy, the deepest sense of completion I'd ever experienced.
The pleasure must have deafened me, because I didn't realize her moans had shifted to words, until she repeated for the umpteenth time.
"I'm gonna cum. Pull my hair. Pull my hair."
I returned to my senses. I realized she'd hitched her ass up a bit, raising her clit from the floor. She circled it with two fingers. Knowing she was so turned on by my fucking her that she
had
to masturbate- that thought hit me from the base to the top of my dick.
I barely grabbed hold of her hair, pulled her head back, before I gushed into her.
"I'm cumming!" she screamed as I clapped her cheeks. Her pussy loosened and tightened around my cock, as if suctioning out every pump of cum. We were animals. "I'm cumming! I'm- I'm-"
I fell on top of her. My chest laid across her back, my hands squeezing her breasts, my nose nuzzled behind her ear. We lay for a while, our breaths slowly settling. Every few moments, one or the other of us would moan, an aftershock of our orgasms. When our heart rates finally returned to normal, I rolled off her, and she shifted to her back. We lay beside each other, staring at the ceiling.
If I'd have thought about it at the time, I would have expected that "meaning of life" feeling to fade after the sex. I'd heard that the spike and drop of hormones can be very disillusioning. But I didn't feel that way. I replayed the sex in my head- the shape of her ass, the way her vagina visibly gripped my dick when I pulled it out- but with less primal craving, and more romantic sweetness. I'm typically an anxious person, rarely enjoying the moment, always thinking about what I should be doing next. But in the post-coital glow, I felt no need to strive. No need to work, anymore. I could just appreciate this deep satisfaction, and enjoy life.
"Are you hungry?" she asked.
I turned to her. I'd always admired her face, but the beauty, the symmetry, hit me harder, after what we'd gone through. "I guess. Are you?"
"Stay put."
Elle stretched herself to her feet, walked to the kitchen. I shifted to a sit, to watch her.
She was mesmerizing. Of course, in the past hour or so, I'd seen every inch of her body. But as she opened the refrigerator- its yellow fluorescence bathing her breasts and stomach, while light from the kitchen window grazed her back and butt- I realized that every motion of hers was a new angle, a new excitement, a new way to enjoy her body. Her breasts sagged forward a bit as she leaned down to grab the cheese and grapes. The line from her thick thighs to the swell of her butt changed shape as she closed the door and shuffled toward another cabinet, reached for the crackers.
Elle's plate consisted of wheat crackers, pepper jack cheese, and purple grapes. She sat, cross-legged before me. At first, I ignored the plate, staring instead at her gorgeous boobs, the way they lifted a bit with each breath. I could touch them, I knew. Kiss them. Squeeze them. She'd let me.
Her voice brought my eyes to her face. "You need your strength," she said, smirking. She laid a slice of cheese over a cracker, and raised them to my lips. I leaned forward, took the food in my mouth, my lips brushing her fingertips, and ate.
Elle fed me like that, switching between crackers and grapes, until I finished the plate. She then offered me the glass of water.
