Bosom Buddies

(All characters in this story are at least 18 years old.)

The days were already getting longer. It was nearly eight o'clock at night, and the sun was only just now dipping below the horizon. The California sky had turned tangerine. It was stunning.

But not as stunning as Elizabeth. I heard the approaching footsteps and looked up to see her dark, wavy hair caught the wind. She was dressed casually—just faded jeans and a simple zip-up cotton hoodie. No makeup that I could see (not that she needed it).

I, on the other hand, was wearing a tuxedo.

Liz's mouth hung open in adorable confusion the instant she saw me. She turned inquisitively to Stephanie, but the buxom blonde was already hurrying back down the hill, towards her car. Sensing that she had been lured into a trap of some sort, Liz gave me a wry smile. "Ian, what's going on?"

"I asked Stephanie to lure you here. What did she tell you was up here?"

"Her purse. She said she left it here last night on her date with Simon."

"Yeah, well, Stephanie's a good actress."

Liz laughed. She walked over to take a look at the spread I'd laid out: picnic blankets, cheese and crackers, and strawberry wine (Liz had gone nuts over that Deana Carter Song when it had come out a year or two earlier).

In the distance, we could hear the cheers coming from the baseball stadium at the base of the hill. Finally, with a bit of a blush in her cheeks, Liz gave me an appreciative hug.

"Is there some... special occasion?" she asked nervously.

"I want you to go to prom with me."

"Ian, I—"

"I know, I know. You already told Josh Perfect-face you'd go with him."

"Peterson."

"Right. And I feel like a dick asking a girl to prom after another guy's already invited her."

"Ian—"

"But HE's not in love with you."

Her eyes went wide, utterly sidelined by what I'd said. A gust of wind blasted her hair across her face. She didn't even notice. I gingerly brushed it back in place.

"Sorry," I laughed. "Didn't count on the wind being quite so crazy up here. What was I saying, again?"

Her voice sounded far away: "You said... he's not in love with me."

"He's not. And I

am

. And not just in the obvious ways, either. I mean, sure, you're a good person, and a good friend, and a gorgeous woman, but—I love

everything

about you. I the sound of your voice, your adorable little hands..."

I took her hands in mine and kissed them for emphasis—

"And you do this thing to me when you smile. I don't know how to explain it, it's like—it's like I've been sitting in the dark all day, and somebody just switched on the lights."

As if on cue, she smiled and lit up my world.

"Look, Liz—I know what you're thinking, because I'm thinking the same thing. That it's gonna suck big-time when we have to go away to college."

She nodded.

"But, here's the thing: down the road, looking back, it's gonna suck more not knowing what we could have had."

Liz looked into my eyes, her mind reeling. Not saying a word. It probably only lasted a few seconds, but those few seconds dragged on like a biblical epoch. I would have given anything to know what she was thinking. Finally, she opened her mouth to speak—

Then she changed her mind and just kissed me.

That first kiss was desperate, impatient, overwhelmed. It tasted like fire when it hit my lips. But the SECOND kiss... That was what clinched it. It was the kind of kiss you dream about your whole life, waiting for that one perfect moment, when you get to use it.

The kind of kiss that changes you.

"I love you, too," she said.

We fell onto the picnic blankets, savoring each ecstatic moment in each other's arms until that tangerine sky was stained black. The cheers from the distant baseball game seemed, in some way, for us.

The night air turned chilly, but we were the furthest thing from cold. I rolled on top of her, slowly unzipped her hoodie, and slid it off her body, revealing a simple brown tank top with flowers embroidered across the neckline. My mouth traced its way down her neck, to her shoulder, gently brushing aside both the shirt strap and bra-strap as I went.

With a deep, happy smile, Liz urged off my tuxedo coat and fumbled with the buttons on my vest.

I pulled down the straps on her other shoulder rather more forcefully, causing the tops of her breasts to spill into view. My mouth dropped accordingly, lovingly kissing the soft swells of flesh as my hand slid up beneath her back, to the catch of her bra. Liz arched her back, pressing her chest into my face and allowing me access to snap the clasp.

She finished with my vest buttons and got started on my shirt.

Tenderly, I continued kissing my way down the expanse of Liz's bosom, using my teeth to drag the neckline of her shirt down those final few inches. Her huge, gorgeous tits were released into the night air.

My tongue found her delicious gumdrop nipples and Liz forgot all about the buttons on my shirt. She threw back her head with a moan and impatiently squeezed the warm bulge between my legs. I grunted in approval, never taking my mouth from her breasts. She finally managed to sneak her small hand inside my fly to caress my naked cock.

Our lips still locked together, Liz and I sat up on the blankets and playfully discarded the rest of each other's clothing. Naked as the day we were born, I took a moment to drink in every detail of Elizabeth's incredibly sexy body, from the wine-dark nipples on her succulent tits, to the delicately trimmed curls of hair between her legs, to the way her bright green eyes gazed longingly at my own body...

Liz pushed me down onto the blankets and lowered her soft, pouty lips over my shaft. She sucked me in nearly all the way, washing me with kisses, giving me the most loving blow job I could have ever imagined. I tangled my fingers up in her long, wavy hair and closed my eyes, luxuriating in the pleasure of it. A pair of awesome breasts pressed down onto my thighs each time Liz bobbed her head, those yummy nipples of hers fully erect as they rubbed along my skin.

There was a familiar gleam in her eye as she lifted her lips off of me, scooted forwards slightly, and wrapped my rigid cock in the loving embrace of her cleavage. Full, ripe tits pumped up and down the length of me, threatening to make me cum—

Not yet!

With all my willpower, I pushed Elizabeth's body off of mine and caught my breath for a moment.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

"No, this is amazing," I answered with a smirk. "I just want to make sure this moment lasts as long as it can. Come here."

At my urging, Liz climbed onto my lap and we embraced—my arms wrapped snugly around her waist, her arms wrapped snugly around my shoulders. Like we were slow-dancing sitting down. Her tits mashed against my bare chest and my wet, glistening erection pointed straight up, trapped between our naked bodies. As we kissed, Liz pressed herself against me, rubbing the soft curls of her pubic hair against my cock.

When we finally broke apart for air, my hands couldn't help themselves—they squeezed her breasts in awe.

"You have the most incredible boobs," I sighed. "I swear they've actually gotten bigger."

"That's 'cause they have."

I took my eyes off her chest and met her naughty expression with a questioning eyebrow.

"I'm on the pill now," she laughed, mussing my hair. "I went up a whole cup size."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I had to buy all new bras. Me and Steph can't share them anymore."

"No, I mean, you're really on the pill?"

"Ever since Spring Break. As soon as I got back home, I knew I was done with being a virgin."

My breath caught in my throat when she said that. My heart machine-gunned inside my chest. I kissed her fiercely on the lips.

"I want you so bad," she moaned.

I laid her gently down onto the picnic blanket and kissed her again, gently resting the head of my penis against her naked slit, soaking it in her warm arousal. There was the tiniest glimmer of fear in her eyes, so I asked:

"Are you sure?"

The sound of my voice melted that last bit of fear into a loving smile, and Elizabeth pulled my ear beside her lips to whisper, "Let's have sex."

I pushed the tip in, and she sighed.

I pushed the head in, and she moaned.

A sheen of happy tears coated her eyes, and we kissed tenderly as I slid myself the rest of the way inside. Just as had been the case with Stephanie's first time, Elizabeth wasn't in the least bit of pain. A surge of pure joy shot through us both.

Not four months ago, Elizabeth had shaken like a leaf when I'd touched her breasts. Now I was actually

inside

her. I was making love to her. And I couldn't believe how perfect it felt.

Her pale breasts flushed a dark pink. Our skin burned on contact.

"Oh God," she sighed, her breaths coming quicker now. I suckled her swollen nipples, pushed myself back into her, and she came. Her first orgasm from sex. It was a beautiful sight.

After a few minutes of mumbling and moaning, Elizabeth regained her senses enough to kiss me. I told her that I loved her, thrilling at the sound of the word as it passed my lips.

I started to pull out, but she fiercely held me back.

"I want more," she groaned, desperately trying to catch her breath. "I want to have sex with you in every... possible... position..."

The lust in her breathing drove me wild, and I promptly rolled us both back into a sitting position, her straddling my lap, my cock buried deep in her pussy. I shoved my hands beneath her soft, healthy buttocks and lifted her up, gently bouncing her body on mine.

"Oh yeah..." she moaned, throwing her head back and thrusting her chest against my face. I picked up the pace, devouring my lover's massive tits until she came a second time.

We tried doggie-style next, where I found to my great delight that her swinging breasts made excellent handholds when I entered her from behind. Liz's dark, wavy hair fell across her face while she desperately held onto the picnic blanket.

Then we did it with her on top—by far my favorite position in terms of the view. By some miracle of willpower, I still didn't cum, even with those bouncing breasts filling my field of vision.

I knew my defenses were crumbling. The snug warmth of her around my cock grew positively unbearable. Elizabeth saw it in my eyes, and she tenderly caressed my face, bringing me in for a final kiss—

In the distance, fireworks lit up the sky above the baseball game. My lover's naked curves, so beautiful in the starlight, now flashed dazzlingly into view amid explosions of red and gold. Our hips crashed madly together, our cries muffled beneath feverish kisses. She was so hot, so wet, so tight...

I came inside of her, the relief of it rushing through my entire body. My head spun, my vision blurred, and I held her in my arms—Elizabeth, the woman I loved. We came together while the sky caught fire.

An hour later, we were on our way back to my car at the bottom of the hill.

"So... I take that as a yes? About prom?" I asked.

"What do you think?"

"I think I've suddenly gone from being jealous of Josh Peterson to feeling really sorry for him."

"Ian, he's GAY. Josh just asked me to go as a friend after Stephanie told me you were for sure not gonna ask."

"He's gay?"

"Keep it to yourself, okay? He doesn't want anyone to know."

I burst out laughing at my own stupidity.

...........

For the first time in memory, I slept like a baby.

From that night forward, Elizabeth and I were officially a couple, with all the bewildering euphoria that came pre-packaged with young love. I was so caught up with the excitement of the moment, I didn't even realize that, for the first time in almost a year, I was no longer fantasizing about the other girls. My constant, unbearable urge to sleep with all of my friends had miraculously disappeared.

Okay, maybe that's not

entirely

true, but for the most my every sexual thought was directed at my girlfriend.

One day, I started to give Corrine a backrub—as I had millions of times before—only to realize that I was

just

giving her a backrub. Not as an excuse to caress the shape of her body, and not a backrub with the hope of it leading to sex.

Just a backrub. It was actually kind of a relief. The end of an era. At long last, after months of lusting, and teasing, and confusion, my friends and my sex life became completely separate things.

With one exception.

..............

As expected, neither Amy nor Corrine had trouble finding prom dates.

Amy asked some cute Latino guy named Kenneth that she knew from her judo class at the YMCA. He had one of those chiseled Abercrombie bodies and dark, super-intense eyes. The way she tells the story, she pinned him to the mat in some sort of monster joint-lock and wouldn't let him up until he agreed to go to prom with her (as if he needed any encouragement). The next day, Amy regaled us all with the steamy details of the sex they'd had in the sauna once their class got out.

Corrine's date actually asked

me

for permission first, which I thought was all kinds of strange—especially considering the fact that the guy was

Jake Freeman,

varsity linebacker extraordinaire. He took me aside one day, uncharacteristically nervous, and stuttered, "Hey, Ian—are you and Corrine—I mean, I know you guys are friends and all, but are you—I mean, is she single? Just 'cause, I didn't, like, know if she had a date yet for prom, and I heard she might be going with you, but..."

In a surreal way, it was actually charming watching one of the most popular guys in school wringing his hands like he was asking for my daughter's hand in marriage. Of course, Jake wasn't your typical "popular jock." Up until the 10th grade, Jake had been "The Fat Kid" in every class. I guess he'd finally had enough of it, because he basically locked himself in the weight room for eight months and emerged as the pride of our football team. But the sudden popularity never went to his head, and beneath Jake's absurdly broad shoulders he was still that same genial, good-natured guy he'd always been.

He was also totally Corrine's type: tall, handsome, and covered with muscle. I told him he'd be crazy not to ask her.

After she said yes, Jake had sought me out and picked me up off the ground in a bear hug of appreciation.

Two weeks later, after we'd all dropped a ton of money on clothes, a limo, and a half dozen hotel rooms, prom night finally arrived.

Absolutely everything went wrong.

First, the "Steph-tastrophe." I wasn't there, I didn't see it, but I showed up in the chaotic aftermath to discover that, through some bizarre accident involving a straightening iron and a paper towel, Stephanie's hairdo had caught on fire. All of the other girls—Talia, Rachel, Corry, Amy, and Elizabeth—were running around frantically, trying to fix the situation.

By the time the girls were finally ready, we were way behind schedule. With only minutes left for photographs, our parents rushed to capture lifelong memories on film, shouting at us from all directions. It felt like being lined up before some crazed, incompetent firing squad. We didn't get a single usable photo of the group.

When we got in the limo, we discovered that the air-conditioner was busted, and by the time we arrived at prom we'd been broiled by the summer heat.

Still, once we actually started dancing, everyone had a lot of fun. It didn't hurt that my cadre of female friends all looked so unbelievably sexy as to be practically criminal. I made a point of ogling each and every one of them at various points during the night, backing up the beautiful memories to my mental hard drive.

For my money, Elizabeth outshone all her friends. Her dress was dark red, with braided ribbons laced around the chest to accentuate her incredible rack. The expanse of cleavage that greeted me was so irresistible I had to fight down the urge to rip off the delicate spaghetti straps holding the whole thing up and just ravish her right there on the dance floor.

I liked the dress so much, all I could think of was getting her out of it. I was already half hard when Stephanie cut in for a dance.

Despite the hair-burning craziness that had started her evening, Stephanie wound up looking terrific. Elizabeth had swooped in and saved the day with a pair of scissors—slicing off the charred remains of Steph's golden ringlets and giving her BFF an adorable pixie haircut.

For her dress, Stephanie had gone for a "princess" motif, with ruffles in the skirt and shimmering beading across her substantial bust. A baby blue gown to match her bright blue eyes.

It felt embarrassingly nice wrapping my arms around Steph's voluptuous body. A quick glance over my shoulder showed our respective dates, Elizabeth and Simon, enjoying each other's embrace just as much as we were. I even caught Liz surreptitiously leaning back in Simon's arms to give him a better view of her tits.

Sneaky

.

Relationship or no relationship, I couldn't help but enjoy the way Stephanie's eyes twinkled at me as we danced. I leaned in to give her a soft kiss on the cheek and asked, "Are you excited about tonight? About finally going all the way with Simon?"

"Are you kidding? I've never been so horny in my life!"

I flashed back to the nights, not so long ago, when I had held Stephanie close to my body, watching her cum with me buried deep inside of her. I loved Elizabeth, but Stephanie would always be my first. She'd shown me both the bliss of sexual discovery, and the enormous emotional consequences that went along with it.

A few songs later, it was Amy who came over and politely asked to borrow me for a dance. Once again, Liz didn't seem to mind the interruption, as it meant she got to spend a dance snuggling up against Kenneth's chiseled six-pack.

Amy's dress was pure sex. Dark purple material tied behind her neck and poured down over her large, braless breasts. Except for the fiery red hair cascading past her shoulders, Amy's back was completely naked to the waist, where the fabric was thin enough that I could easily see the firm contours of her amazingly firm ass.

Amy may have called the sex between us "casual," but that didn't begin to describe it. Over the past year, Amy had been both my friend and teacher, first whipping my ass into shape and then helping me find confidence as a man, and as a lover.

I gave her ass a quick little squeeze, for old time's sake, and realized:

"Amy, are you naked under there?"

In reply, she gave a suggestive "shush," then turned and slowly ground her ass against my crotch, twisting her head around to kiss my neck until the song ended.

By the time Liz was back in my arms, she laughed at how red my cheeks had gotten.

"Wow," she said, "Looks like

somebody's

enjoying being the center of attention, tonight. How come nobody's asking ME to dance?"

A few songs later, Rachel did just that. She walked up to us and told my date, "You look really beautiful tonight."

The compliment earned Rachel a few minutes swaying cheek-to-cheek with Liz.

Meanwhile, I consoled myself by dancing with Talia, who had draped her supermodel figure in an elegant, one-shoulder black dress, accentuated by dazzling silver jewelry and elbow-length black gloves. I know it's an odd thing to fixate on, but that one bare shoulder looked so unbelievably sexy I couldn't resist planting a kiss there while we danced.

Talia had shattered my preconceptions about what love really meant. Through her, I'd learned that love wasn't property, to be given away and owned by another. Love was energy, hiding invisibly between the molecules in the air. And, like energy, it couldn't be created or destroyed, no matter how much we tried.

Elizabeth finally returned to me, leaving Talia's date with a big, shit-eating grin on her face. Rachel may have loved Talia, but there was no question she had the hots for Liz. Who could blame her?