Catherine and I had been friends since grade school, and it was in our teenage years that I had become aware of my growing sexual feelings for her. She had blossomed from a freckle-faced lanky child into a beauty, the drop-dead looker that men gaped at and women eyed warily. She was blonde with beautiful green eyes and tawny skin. She was about 5’5’’ with an hourglass figure, a round ass and firm, pendulous breasts. I was cute in an athletic, tomboy kind of way. Though I did possess the long legs and slim hips that were considered enviable I was not the beauty. However, I didn’t mind: I was in love.
Catherine had many boyfriends, and was always the center of male attention. She was smart and gentle. A quiet, good girl. She seemed oblivious to both the raucous ogling of the boys at school and my festering erotic urges. I hungrily anticipated our moments after gym class when I would be able to steal furtive glances at her ripe body. But what I looked forward to most were our Saturday night sleepovers. After going out with our group of friends, we would alternate staying over at one another's house. Though we would lie in bed giggling over the boys we had crushes on, I would be secretly and agonizingly fantasizing about the things I wanted to do to her body. After she fell asleep I would lie watching her, slowly teasing my wet pussy. The yearning would get too much and I would have to go into the bathroom where I would masturbate furiously, watching in the mirror as my hand lewdly worked my slick cunt.
It got to the point where I decided I would have to stop seeing her or I would burst. After university (where she excelled and I failed miserably), we sort of went our separate ways. She married, Rick an engineering student, and worked as a counsellor on campus. I went from boy to boy, never really committing, as it was lesbian sex that I truly craved but was too afraid to pursue. I became an avid surfer of lesbian websites but it was images of Catherine that fed my dirtiest fantasies.
I was quite surprised when she called me up, out of the blue, one Friday night not too long ago. She was abrupt and sounded a little tipsy. Rick was out of town for the weekend; she asked if I would mind coming to spend the night as she wasn’t comfortable alone. It would be a pleasure, I said.
It was the first time I had seen her in over a year, and though she still looked as gorgeous as ever, there was an edge to her. She was wearing a fitted green blouse and tight jeans that showed off her firm, round ass. We ordered in pizza and drank a bottle of wine while reminiscing about old times. After polishing up the first bottle, she suggested that we move into the family room, onto the couch. I could tell that something had been bugging her since the moment I arrived. She seemed preoccupied, a little tense. Almost distant. I thought she was missing Rick, he’d been away for a few days now and perhaps she was lonely. And though I was concerned for her, as her closest friend, I couldn’t help but be mesmorized by her deep cleavage and the intoxicating, musky scent I had almost forgotten. Always sexy, she seemed especially hot this evening.
"You okay," I asked her
"Yeah, yeah," she sucked back the wine, "everything’s good."
"Missing Rick, I guess?" I asked tentatively.
She laughed and gazed evenly at me, "I guess…as much as anyone could miss Rick…they’re a few lightbulbs I wouldn’t mind him changing." She slugged back some more wine and looked out the window. When she looked back at me I felt her eyes momentarily fall to my breasts. "And you, everything’s okay with you?"
"Great."
"No new men."
"No new men,no old men," I laughed.
"You’re not missing anything."
"Cat, what’s wrong…c’mon, this isn’t like you?"
She hung her head for a moment and breathed deeply. "I don’t know what to say…how to say it…I’m so un--," she stopped for a moment and bit her lip, "Chris, I’m so unsatisfied." With that she hung her head and began to sob. I put my arm around her and slowly rubbed her back.
"It’s okay…it’s just a little thing you’re going through."
"It’s not a little thing, Chris…it’s…" And then she told me: she wasn’t attracted to her husband, never had been. It had all been a sham. She had done what she was expected to do, marry the right man In the beginning it had been okay; she was so caught up in the desire to be in love and married that it had carried her through the early years of her relationship. But not anymore. She could barely stand being in the same room with him, let alone sleeping with him.
"Cat," I whispered as I rubbed her back. I could feel her breasts softly undulating against me and her breath was hot in my ear. God, I was getting turned on. I wanted to reach down and caress her breast, tongue her nipples. I could feel my pussy moistening but I knew I couldn’t do this. No matter how much I had fantasized about it and how much I wanted it. I just couldn’t; it would wreck our friendship and throw everything out of kilter. "Maybe you need to meet a new man, have an affair—"
"You don’t get it," she sobbed. "It’s not a man I need – it’s—forget it." She pulled herself away from me and wiped her eyes on the edge of her blouse. "I’d better go to bed.’Night Chris."
"Goodnight," I said, watching her firm ass as she walked away, aching inside.
I slowly washed myself and got ready for bed, but I was in no mood to sleep. I was once again overcome with a burning desire to fuck my best friend. I had felt this way many times before…but this was different. Had she propositioned me or was I imagining things? Had I lost the one chance to realize my most delicious fantasy. My mind retraced her soft breasts and warm breath, wondering what it would be like to ride her puss, to finger her, to tongue her hole. I was getting wet. I laid in the bed and slowly began to explore myself, running my fingers through my tawny bush. Ohhh. Very wet. I ran my fingers up and down the length of my slit, from my asshole to my clit. Ohhh I loved that. I began to circle my hard little nub, imagining that it was Cat’s fingers, wondering how she’d do me. It was all too much. I slowly got out of bed and walked toward her room.
I could see light coming through the bottom of her door and could hear the muffled sound of the television, the door was open a crack so I peeked inside. God. Cat was seated on the bed, leaning against the headboard. She was naked, her legs splayed and her hand was playing furiously on her pussy. Her voice was gutteral, muttering obscenities. I slowly creeped in to hear what she was saying.
"That’s it fuck her…fuck her tight cunt. Oh yeah…fuck me you bitch." She was transfixed, staring ahead, and as I got closer I could make out the images on the television screen. It was an older woman with her hand between a younger woman’s legs, fingering her furiously. Both were in ecstasy. Oh, God I could feel myself creaming. I had never heard my gentle friend Cat so excited, so dirty, so completely wanton. I must have made a noise because she suddenly stopped and looked guiltily at me. I sat down beside her on the bed. She looked frightened.
