Four Little Friends And How They Fuck

It was Friday night, which meant tequila and junk food at Daisy Darling's house. Daisy lived outside Baltimore, in the county, in a little white house with black shutters, surrounded by trees. Her three best friends, who all lived in the city, resented the half-hour drive, but appreciated the quiet privacy of Daisy's cottage; the sort of quiet privacy required by professional young women when they let their hair down.

At eight o'clock on the dot, Constance del Costa arrived, zipping into the drive in a spiffy little BMW. She unfolded her long, lean body from the behind the wheel, and grabbed a blue plastic shopping bag from the passenger seat.

"Salsa!" She declared, wiggling her dark brows at Daisy, who was standing on the front porch. She dashed up to the porch and engulfed Daisy in a hug, then pulled back and placed a smacking kiss on the top of Daisy's head.

Daisy and Constance were a study in contrasts. Constance, with her sleek waterfall of black hair, and dark gold skin, stood head and shoulders above Daisy, who was compact and curvy, a bundle of cheerful energy topped by constantly rumpled blonde hair.

Arms linked, they went inside, to Daisy's kitchen, which was painted a happy tangerine color. Tortilla chips, a mountain of them, sat in a big pink bowl, and beside them, a handle of Cuervo Gold.

"

Tia del Costa's

salsa!" Constance said, flourishing a Tupperware container of chunky, tomato-rich salsa.

"Heaven." Daisy rolled her eyes to the ceiling in appreciation with a sigh, as she made her way to the fridge. " Grocery store guacamole!" She brandished the plastic dish high, a self-deprecating smile on her lips.

"Appalling." Constance mock-frowned.

Daisy and Constance set out food, tequila, and shot glasses on a glass-topped table in the lime green living room.

"Do we need a plastic sheet?" Constance inquired, pointing to Daisy's sparkling white sofa.

"Nah – it's from Ikea." Daisy waved the question away negligently.

"Ah. Cheap." Said Constance, who had expensive tastes.

"Functional, cute, and affordable, if you please." Daisy sniffed, then perked up when she head another pull into her driveway. "Could it be our very own Earth Mother?" She wondered aloud with a wink.

Constance and Daisy stepped out onto the porch to meet their friend. Susan Quentin all but fell out of her neat little hybrid car, dragging a freckled hand through her super-short henna red hair.

"I need tequila!" She wailed, as she collapsed into Daisy's arms.

"Rough day at the clinic, Susan?" Daisy patted her back while Constance relieved her of her cloth shopping bag.

"You have no idea, Daisy." Susan sighed. "Con, there's vegan, organic cheese in that bag, and low-sodium chips."

"Low sodium? That defeats the purpose!" Constance declared, dumping the contents of the bag onto the kitchen counter.

As she arranged the cheese on a plate – this one cow-spotted-, and Daisy poured a glass of red wine for Susan, their last friend arrived, banging through the front door with her usual gusto.

"Ladies, I'm here, and I'm ready to be liquored up!" Gabriella Moretti announced, shaking out her mane of chestnut curls. Gabriella shrugged her toned arms out of her perfectly tailored charcoal suit, and collapsed onto the white couch.

By ten o'clock, the friends had a good buzz going, halfway into their tequila, and all the way through Titi del Costa's salsa. Billie Holiday crooned from the stereo, and Daisy lie spread-eagle on the hardwood floor.

"I'm lonely, guys. I'm ready for another relationship." She declared, out of the blue.

"Me too. A man who really fills out a three-piece suit." Gabriella mused from the big leather ottoman. She had lost her shoes at some point, and her strong feet, the toes painted fire-engine red, were tucked up under her.

"I'm just horny." Constance giggled from under the coffee table.

" It's so hard to find sensitive, socially-conscious men." Susan lamented, swirling her tequila on the rocks.

"Who cares about socially-conscious? I want a big man, with a big bulge, and a big truck." Daisy giggled.

Susan stood up, stumbled over to her briefcase, and pulled out a legal pad and a pen. "Alright, let's make a list, girls. What do we each want in a man?"

* * * * *

Chapter 1: Daisy

The next morning, Daisy awoke, inexplicably, under the kitchen table. Someone was pounding on the door, and she was drooling onto a sheet of paper under her cheek. She swore and jumped up, banging her head hard against the underside of the table.

"Shit shit shit!" She muttered, rubbing her aching head, before noticing that the sheet of paper was stuck to her warm cheek. Ignoring what could only be a madman knocking on the door – it was barely 10 am! –She studied the sheet of paper.

Daisy's Manly Man

Tall

Big and strong

Dick no smaller than 8 inches

Trucks a plus!

Likes down and dirty sex

Tattoos also a plus

Fills out a pair of jeans

Faithful

"Hm!" She mused. The list looked about right – even given the drunken state it was penned.

The knocking finally got to her, and grumbling, she crawled to the front door, using the doorknob to drag herself to her feet. She opened the door with a yawn, and felt her heart skip a feet.

Standing on her porch was a man. No normal man, this was a capital M man – six feet four inches, 250 pounds of solid man. Solid, frowning man. He was wearing a crisp white Oxford shirt with a neatly knotted tie. A leather holster kept his big gun snug under his broad shoulder, and a badge was clipped to his black leather belt.

Oh my,

Daisy thought to herself.

"Ma'am, I'm your new neighbor. Detective Wes Colfield." He said in a low, deep voice. Daisy noticed that his eyes were green. She loved green eyes.

"Nice to meet you, Wes." She murmured, cocking her hip, and quirking her lips up.

Lord, she was a fine sight to see first thing in the morning, Wes thought to himself. She was a little bit of a thing – her head probably only reached his shoulders- and she was round and soft, with sexy, rumpled hair and clear, pink skin. Just Wes' kind of woman.

She was also wearing a pair of tiny silk boxers, a battered t-shirt proclaiming "Forty and Fabulous!" and one sock. He could tell she wasn't wearing a bra, her breasts looked small and perfect, and her little nipples poked out provocatively. Wes suddenly stopped frowning – he wanted to get to know his tiny neighbor much,

much

better.

"I'm Daisy Darling. Welcome to the neighborhood." She stuck her hand out, little like the rest of her, with neat pink nails. He took it in his own big and callused hand, and administered a firm handshake.

"Well thank you, Daisy Darling. I'm sorry to disturb you after what I assume was a wild night, but someone has blocked my truck in."

Daisy glanced over into his yard, and sure enough, Gabriella's red sports car was parked, rather crookedly, behind Wes' truck.

"Oh, I'm sorry! Friday night is tequila night." She explained with a smile. "I'll go wake Gabriella. Come on in." And with that nonsensical explanation, she retreated into the house.

Wes followed her cautiously into her sunny green living room, his cop's eyes taking in the candles burned down to nothing, the empty liquor bottles, the chip crumbs everywhere. And his man's eyes noticed the two scantily clad women sleeping on the white couch. Wes believed he was witnessing the morning after of a real life, honest to God

slumber party

, and thought to himself with satisfaction;

they really do play around in their panties!

Yes, it was a great morning.

Daisy returned from...somewhere in the house with a sleepy, blowsy Italian in trail, whom he assumed was Gabriella.

"Sorry, detective," She murmured sleepily, "I'm just leaving now."

Wes stood to the side quietly, as Daisy and Gabriella said their goodbyes. A few minutes later, his driveway was clear, but he lingered on Daisy's porch, not wanting to leave quite yet.

"I appreciate that, Daisy Darling." He said, moving closer to her, till their arms touched. She looked up at him, her big blue eyes clear and sparkling.

"Oh, you stop by any time, detective. My doors always open. Though I gotta tell you, ten am is an obscene hour to stop by on Saturday morning." She smiled, and then cocked one fine eyebrow. "In fact," she said, thinking fast, "Why don't you come by tonight? I'll grill some steaks."

Wes grinned. "I'd love to. How about I swing by around 8?"

"Perfect." Daisy declared, though she couldn't decide what was more perfect – how easily the date was set, or how simply gorgeous her neighbor was. She couldn't believe how similar he was to the "manly man" of her list! He was big and tall, and drove a truck, and she couldn't be certain, but he looked like the kind of man who liked to get down and dirty.

One thing was certain, though. She was going to fuck Detective Wes Colfield.

At 8:10, Wes showed up at Daisy's front door. He carried a bottle of red wine, and was wearing jeans and a mute plaid Oxford, untucked, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Daisy thought he looked good enough to eat, as she greeted him with a friendly kiss on the cheek.

"Come on to the back. I've got the steaks on the grill." As she led him through her house, his attention focused on her sweet, bouncy ass. Damn, that was some ass. Round and firm, cased in a white linen skirt. He couldn't be sure, but it looked like Miss Daisy Darling was wearing a thong.

By the time they finished their leisurely dinner of steak and green salad, it was dark outside, and the mosquitoes were starting to bite Daisy in earnest.

"Let's go inside, the mosquitoes are killing me!" Daisy jumped up, leaving the dirty plates on the patio table, and led Wes into the living room, where they sat close together on the couch.

"It's all that sweet skin of yours." He drawled, running a finger down her bare forearm. She was wearing a vivid green tank top, thin enough that he could see her nipples pucker. Good God, she wasn't wearing a bra. Wes felt a raging erection begin.

Daisy turned to face him, and smiled. " Probably." She said saucily, resting her hand lightly on his thigh.

Not a man to mistake an advance when it slapped him in the face – or thigh- he grinned predatorily, and moved closer, clasping Daisy by the shoulders, and drawing her to his heat. He ducked his head, and his mouth descended on hers – he'd thought about her rosebud mouth all day, about how her mouth would taste, about how her tongue would feel in his mouth, about how that little mouth would look around his thick cock.

And then he kissed her, and Daisy thought her heart might stop. His mouth was warm and hard, and he nipped her bottom lip with his teeth before gently slipping his tongue into her mouth.

With a growl, Wes grabbed Daisy by the hips and lifted her onto his lap. She straddled him, the hard ridge of his erect dick straining against his pants, warming her own crotch. He pulled her skirt up to her waist, running his rough hands along her smooth thighs.

"I want to fuck you." He whispered against her mouth, breathing heavily.

"Mmm," Daisy murmured, grinding her pelvis against his, aching to feel his dick slide between her labia, "I'm going to let you. I want you to fuck me hard." She was so wet, she was sure she was soaking Wes' jeans.

With a groan, Wes tore his mouth from hers, and dragged it down her throat, biting and sucking.

"Harder. Bite me harder." Daisy urged him on, her fingers diving into his thick, short hair.

Ever accommodating, Wes bit down on the ligament between her neck and shoulders, and felt her body shiver, as her thighs tightened around his hips. He did it over and over; till her shoulders were sore and her pussy was dripping.

Breathing raggedly, Daisy dropped her head to his chest and fumbled with his belt buckle. Wes didn't move to help her, opting instead to run his hands up under her shirt. He was right about her breasts; they fit perfectly into his palms, firm little globes with hard nipples. He was enjoying rolling her nipples between his fingers, when she finally managed to unbuckle his belt, and open his fly.

With a sigh of satisfaction, she grasped his dick in her hands, and pulled it out. He was so thick; her fingers didn't fit all the way around his girth. His cock was definitely over her 8-inch requirement, so hard it curved up, and veiny, capped by a broad, purple head. It pulsed under her touch, and she stroked it lightly, teasingly.

Wes groaned, and took her hands. "If you keep touching my dick, I'm not going to last more than 30 seconds when I do get inside you." He whispered, grinning.

"It's perfect, detective, I can't resist." Daisy said, clasping her mouth to his neck and biting him. "Let's go to my room."

Wes stood up, his arms still tight around Daisy. She wrapped her legs tightly around his waist, and rubbed against his dick. He groaned, then looked around.

"Which way to your bedroom?" He asked, taking off down a hall before she even gave him an answer.

"First door on the left, that's it." She was already unbuttoning his shirt, running her cool fingers down his hairy chest.

He set her down without ceremony, ripping his shirt off, and pulling down his jeans. Free from its confines, his erection bobbed. Following his lead, Daisy pulled her tank top over her head, dropping it on the floor behind her, and dropped her skirt, where it pooled at her bare feet.

Wes' breath caught in his throat. Her breasts were gorgeous, her nipples small and pale pink. She was soft and curvy, with generous hips and pale skin. And once again, he discovered he was right; Daisy was wearing a tiny mesh thong. Daisy also got her first look at him without a shirt one. He was big, with hard muscles and a thick torso. A large, black tattoo rode down his shoulder, stopping at his elbow. His waist was trim, and his legs were long.

He picked her up again, and set her on her back in the center of her bed. She spread her legs wide, and he settled between her thighs. He groaned at the contact of their naked skin. He scooted down, till he was face to face with that tiny little thong. Through the mesh, he could see a small patch of light blonde pubic hair and bare labia. He rubbed one thumb up and down her wet slit through her panties, and she moaned and bucked her hips.

Suddenly not wanting to wait any longer, he slid the thong down her thighs, and tossed it behind him.

"Now that is the prettiest little pussy I have ever seen." He said, his gaze intent on the glistening folds of her pouty cunt. He looked up at her face as he slid one long finger into her pussy, then added another finger, sliding slowly in and out. She bit her lip, and her vaginal muscles clenched around his fingers.

"Wes, you have to fuck me," She panted, "you have to fuck me. Pound your dick into my pussy, do it hard." She was breathing heavily, rolling her hips, dripping wet down his hand.

"Yeah, I'm gonna fuck you." He murmured with a purely masculine grin as he moved back up her body, settling his cock against her juicy slit. "Are you ready, baby?"

"Do it, Wes, put it in." Daisy wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and her legs around his waist, as he pushed the broad head of his deck inside her.

"God, you're tight." He groaned, burying himself to the hilt in Daisy's wet pussy.

They stopped speaking as they established a rhythm, long strokes, almost pulling out before pushing all the way back in again. Wes clasped her ankles and moved them to his shoulder, allowing him to sink even deeper into Daisy, to rub against her a new, delicious way. He reached down between their bodies, stroking her pulsing clit until she came, breathlessly, calling his name.

When he felt her squeeze tight around his cock, her climax milking him, his control snapped. He started short-stroking, hard, rough, fast. As his fingers clasped her hips closer to him, he rode her, and, amazingly, Daisy felt a second orgasm build, then break over her. She writhed under him, hips bucking, fingers biting into his hard ass to draw him closer, ever closer.

With a hoarse cry, Wes came, filling her with his hot cum. With a groan, he collapsed onto her.

"Jesus." He said against her neck.

She smacked his ass, lightly. "That's all you can say?"

"For a second there, Daisy Darling, I didn't have words." He lifted his head, smiled down at her. She liked the way he said her name, it sounded warm and tender and masculine. So she leaned down and hissed him on the tip of his straight nose.

"Up for another round, big boy? I want you to fuck me from behind, and then I want you to handcuff me to the bed and fuck me any way you want to." She clenched her vaginal muscles, and Wes felt himself growing hard again.

"You're going to kill me, Daisy." Somehow, he didn't really mind.

"Let's take a shower, first." Daisy suggested, feeling the sticky wetness between her legs.

"Great idea." Wes pulled out of her with a sloppy pop, hooked his hands under her knees, and lifted her up. He set her down in the bathroom, which was as bright as the rest of her house-something he found charming- a vibrant blue-green. He turned the shower on, hot, and then lifted her into the tub with him, shielding her from the scalding spray.

Wes grabbed a bottle of shower gel that smelled like pink grapefruit, and lathered up his hands. He kneeled in front of her.

"Put your foot on my shoulder." He instructed, and he worked his soapy hands up her legs. And since that pretty little pussy of hers was right in his face, and because it was so dirty from his dick, he just had to stroke it with his soapy fingers. He washed all the cum off her thighs, from those pouty pussy lips, and all the while she let out these little whimpers that made his dick incredibly hard.

Roughly, Wes stood up, and pressed her against the cold shower tile. Daisy spread her legs for him, and he ran his finger up and down her already-wet-again pussy. He avoided her clit, just stroking her labia, slipping his middle finger slowly into her cunt. He grabbed her right thigh and lifted her leg. With a moan, loving feeling so spread, Daisy pushed her ass out. Without a word, Wed guided his penis to her slit, but didn't penetrate. Instead he rubbed his hot cock along her pussy, sliding over her clit again and again, teasing her till she was pumping her hips uncontrollably, begging him to slide his penis in deep. Suddenly, he stopped playing, and shoved into Daisy, hard. His dick was so thick, it stretched her wide, and he went in till he felt the entrance to her cervix. He pumped slowly in and out of her, his left fingers making a V over her clit, rubbing her deliciously with each thrust.

Wes pulled out right as he was about to cum, and rubbed his cock up and down her pussy as his jizz smeared all over her, getting into her pubic hair, and dripping down her legs. He rapidly rubbed his cum-soaked fingers over her clitoris until she came, shaking and rotating her hips wildly.

"Wes." She murmured, turning to face him, and wrapping her arms him. Her heart was pounding, and she pressed her face to his throat. He smelled like sweat and soap and musk. Grasping her chin, he brought her face up, leaned down, and kissed her gently.

"You just keep getting better, baby." He whispered, drawing her close.

Wes was blown away. He felt like his heart just leapt into his throat, and he knew he wanted to spend a long time with Miss Daisy Darling.

"Let's go to bed," she whispered, "so you can get your strength back. I have all kinds of nasty things I want to try."

With a weary grin, he picked her up, and they headed back to her bedroom.