Friends Share 1

Everyone involved is over the age of 18, and all all persons in this story are completely fictional. Any resemblance to real life is unintentional. Etc Etc Etc. There isn't much sex in this first part, but trust me, there are good things coming your way :). Any comments and suggestions are greatly appreciated, and if there is something specific you guys would like to see let me know, I always welcome new ideas! Enjoy!

I chewed on my bottom lip relentlessly, on the verge of drawing blood. It was a horribly painful nervous habit of mine; one, which I'd have to break soon if I ever wanted to kiss someone without feeling like they were holding a hot iron to my lips.

I was just too sensitive everywhere, I thought, way too sensitive for my own good.

Even now, standing on the front porch, I could feel the seam of my short jean shorts rubbing against my body in the most delicious of ways. I felt my eyelids droop momentarily as I concentrated on the sensation, biting my lip again but this time to control myself.

My hand was raised, about to ring the buzzer, but I hesitated; my heart thundered inside my chest at the possibilities of who might be standing just on the other side of that door.

Mary. Mary, could you be in there?

The windows on either side of the door showed that the porch was pitch dark, but the house was long, and had potential for many secrets to lurk within.

I had had to gingerly pick my way over the broken walkway that led up the front steps in the dark summer night, careful not to trip. I could hear several crickets jump away and stop their chirping as I stepped near them. The front yard had been in a constant state of disaster for as long as I could remember this house being here. Wild, uncut grass housed many creatures of the humid night. A tipped-over cement birdbath lay to the side of the steps, fallen over and crumbled long ago, but never removed. I suddenly remembered the crisp winter day eight years ago that Mary's mother, Virginia, had placed it there, much to her husband's dismay. Her wild, flowing red hair had blown in the icy wind, but she had paid no mind, standing in the front yard in her nightgown, unbothered by the elements. I had wholeheartedly agreed with her husband, it really was a monstrous thing. Mary had inherited her mother's erratic red hair, but with more softness to it. Whereas Virginia's had been a dark red, almost like a flame, Mary's had been lighter, almost peach colored, with the hint of waves begging for fingers to wrap around it's curls.

With that thought, I suddenly turned around and almost sprinted down the three low steps, jumping over the birdbath and heading for my car. No! I silently screamed at myself. I had come here to see Mary, and regardless of how things had been left between us the last time I'd seen her, we were still friends as far back as middle school. Our fight right before we left for college echoed in my head, immediately making my breaths come faster.

Mary had walked behind me onto the porch, wanting to wait with me until my mom came to pick me up. We sat in the large wicker chairs, the wooden entails digging into my thighs under my skirt. I couldn't wait to get my driver's license next week; no more of this being driven around by my mother crap. Then I could leave whenever I wanted to, not having to wait around. Mary and I carefully avoided eye contact as I made sure I knew exactly how many tiles were on the floor. No, 57 cannot possibly be correct. I should count them again.

"Jess, I'm sorry for what I said," she was looking at her hands as she whispered. "I just - I don't understand why you have to date him! Bryan, he's nice ... but he's not for you."

"Oh and why not?" I had yelled, suddenly blowing up. "You're just jealous because you don't have a boyfriend! Or girlfriend! Mary, I don't even know what you like these days but you're just jealous! I see the way you look at me!"

"I'm not jealous!" She raised her voice a little. "I just miss my friend! Where's my friend? I don't even see you anymore! All you want to do is spend time kissing that - that boy!"

"And you're not going to see me if you keep calling my boyfriend a masochistic whore!" I yelled back. "Get your own boyfriend and then talk to me about it!" I had gotten up then and paced the small enclosed front porch.

"I don't want a boyfriend, Jess! I just want –"

"What?!? You want a nice girl then?!" I remembered the way I had glared at her, full of despise and feelings I couldn't find names for; feelings that were so much the opposite of the disdain I wanted to feel.

"No!" She was on her feet now, moving closer to me. "No I - I only want you!" And then she had risen up on her tip-toes and grabbing my curly black hair, forcefully pulling me down to her smaller frame and had kissed me.

I had pushed her away from me and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, running for the front steps, running out onto the sidewalk, running away from her and the things she had stirred inside me. "Mary! Ew! I'm never coming back here again! You're horrible!" My mom had just pulled up as I ran out.

"I hate you Mary! I hate you! I cannot believe you just did that! I'm never going to see you again!"

I slowly made my way back up her porch, forcing my breathing to slow down. That was the last time I had seen her before we went to separate parts of the country for school. I need to do this, I told myself. Why I needed to, I didn't know, I only knew of what she had opened up in me that day and I needed to see her again; I needed to know what was real and what my mind had embellished on.

I tried to ring the buzzer but nothing happened except I received a friendly electric shock from the plastic button.

"Ouch!" I sucked on my index finger for a minute. It was as if the house was punishing me for all the indecent thoughts racing through my head.

I knocked on the side window loudly and was immediately hit with memories of throwing rocks at Mary's window just above the door. I looked up but it was now boarded-over. Nothing was left to remind of her purple curtains that would always blow out onto the short roof just above the once red front door.

I wondered what I would even say to her if she were to open the door now. How could I explain my mysterious appearance after all this time?

"Hi Mary! I know we haven't seen each other in two years, but I drove all the way to your house because I'm back for the summer now and I haven't been able to stop thinking about that kiss all this time. I was wondering if I could have another? I'm straight, but I think you may have awakened something in me, so I'd like to use your body to see if I would like it. By the way, how have you been?"

I shook my head at myself. I was going mad. I hadn't had any physical contact since I'd left my boyfriend five months ago. We had had a pretty active sexual lifestyle, and the lack of it now is what must be making me have these erratic thoughts. I just want my best friend back, I told myself, somewhat unconvincingly as an image of what her perky nipples might look like under all those clothes flashed in my head at the same time.

"Ugh!" I turned from the door, disgusted with myself and headed to my car, speeding home, almost hitting a skunk on the way. I had forgotten how remote this town was. I had gone to a school in a big city, populated by many. It had provided for good distraction from that kiss. Until now.

For months after Mary had kissed me I had battled with myself night and day. During that entire summer after high school and before college, I had had many descriptive dreams in which Mary did much more than kiss me. Even now, I slightly blushed at those images and sat back in my car seat a bit further, the seam of my shorts suddenly noticeable once again.

Once safely inside my house, I ran up the stairs and threw myself against my bed. The house was eerily quiet with my parents and little brother having left for Mexico the day before. They would be staying for several weeks, and I had had no desire to go with them, feigning I had too much school work during the summer I had to catch up to in preparation for my exams in the fall. In truth, if I had to be honest with myself, I knew that Mary had had a role to play in my desire to stay home. I hadn't been home in two years, working and studying straight through last summer, and I had wanted to have time alone to collect my thoughts; see if I could bridge my friendship with her again.

Or to taste her lips again.

I silently scolded myself and the little devil that must now be living inside my head.

Remember what you two did in this bed?

I sighed loudly, getting out of bed quickly and running downstairs into the kitchen, in search of food - in search of anything that would take my mind off of Mary. I quickly moved around the kitchen, grabbing the bread off the top of the fridge and opening and slamming cabinets, my mind somewhere else. I tried to hold my hands steady and I made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

I remembered all too clearly what we had done in my bed. The seam of my shorts bumped against my clit again as I moved about my kitchen. In high school, she would stay over at my house almost constantly. We had always been together during the days and long nights of childhood. We had experienced the beginnings of adulthood together, facing all the highs and lows that it had brought. I had remembered her frantic hiccuping cries over the phone when she had gotten her period for the first time, not knowing what was wrong with her, she had called me immediately. I had done the same several months later. We would regularly check our chests in the full-length mirror in my room, seeing whether our boobs had begun to grow yet, anxious for femininity. With the onset of high school had come the onset of sexuality and teenager angst and lust. For weeks after she had kissed Billy Mills for the first time, I had begged her to describe to me over and over again the sensation of his lips on hers, his hot breath, how he had trembled when his tongue had touched her.

Her story telling is what had lead us to what we called our story time. For months she had spent the night at my house, much to her parent's delight who could now go to dinner or play around the house without having to worry about their daughter. Each night for weeks she had been telling me the story over and over again, but one night I had posed an innocent what if question that had unlocked everything else.

"What if he had gone further, and had wanted to grab your ass?" I had asked with child's innocence. Even though we were Juniors in High School at this point, well beyond the "innocent" phase, we were both painfully shy and inexperienced

"Yes, I think so," she answered, staring at my ceiling. We were both under different comforters on my big queen-sized bed. She had a tendency to hog the covers when she slept.

"You would?" I asked with big eyes, excited at the thought of someone touching anyone's ass.

"Jess, when he kissed me, I liked it! I-I... it made my panties wet when he did, it felt like I had peed myself!" she answered honestly, never having shared this information with me before.

"Wow, he must be a good kisser then," I mused. "Ok, what if he had taken off your shirt?"

"Then, I would have liked it also. I think. Maybe next time he kisses me, I'll make him lick my nipples," she giggled quietly, trying not to wake my parents.

I giggled also, but closed my eyes, the sleep daring to overtake me. Several moments later, I had head a squishy noise coming from Mary's side. I opened my eyes, and there was enough light in the room that I could see she was laying on her back with her knees in the air, the blanket covering her all the way to her neck.

"Mary!" I gasped. "What are you doing?"

She jumped a little and had stretched out her legs immediately. "Nothing! Go to bed!" she had hissed at me, breathing like she had just run the mile in gym class, her chest heaving in the still air.

Every night after that, we would tell stories and fantasies. Who we wanted to kiss, who we thought filled out his gym shorts the best. We played out scenarios in my bed that would make any grown up blush.

"If I were to ever have sex, I think it'd be with Bryan!" I had said one night while lying in my bed, the sheets kicked down to my feet.

"Oh yes! He's in my math class, and I'm telling you, he is just amazing!" Mary had agreed.

"He has really big hands. Do you see him when he plays basketball? He can grip that entire ball with one hand!" I exclaimed, picturing Bryan's hands. "I bet he could do so much to my body with those hands of his. I'd ask him to touch me everywhere, starting with my breasts-" I grabbed them for emphasis, "-and then down my body to my thighs and - Mary! Are you masturbating?" I stopped abruptly, hearing the squishing noises again.

"I'm sorry!" She exclaimed, not bothering to stop. "I can't help it! It's just that when you talk about the guys in our class, you describe them so well that it makes me horny!"

I put the peanut butter-covered knife down, feeling too light-headed from the fast, shaky breaths I was taking. I closed my eyes, trying to calm my breathing down.

She had masturbated in my bed that night, laying right next to me!

Before I realized what I was doing, my right hand had snaked under my light summer top, caressing my flat stomach, tugging on my belly button ring playfully. I licked off the excess peanut butter off my left middle finger slowly, almost mindlessly, leaving it between my lips longer than necessary, enjoying the feel of my soft tongue against it. Even my fingers were on hyper-drive and deliciously sensitive. I could feel my nipples harden, pushing against the light fabric of my bra, almost painfully against the lacy material.

Why am I acting this way? I shouldn't be acting like a sex-starved maniac!

The idea that I shouldn't be doing this; that this was something naughty and forbidden to me, especially in my parent's kitchen, heightened my arousal even further. All thoughts of reason banished from my head as it filled with images of Mary. She, on her back in my bed, the sound of her fingers going into her wet pussy right next to me. The though that she had been unable to control herself that night, that she had been so overcome with lust as to masturbate right next to her best friend made my panties instantaneously wet. She had continued to masturbate next to me that night, abruptly stopping shortly after with a long sigh.

I pulled my finger from my mouth and traced it over my nipple on the outside of the shirt, the moisture from my lips soaking the flimsy material slightly. My other hand moved lower over my stomach and I dipped a finger into my shorts, teasing myself slightly.

I shouldn't be doing this, I shouldn't be doing this, I shouldn't be doing th- oh fuck! It feels so good!

I screamed in my head as my finger found my clit, barely being able to brush against it as the fabric of my shorts was restraining. I quickly jumped up on the counter, smashing my peanut and jelly sandwich below my shorts, completely uncaring, concentrating only on the sensations that my body was screaming at me.

I hiked up one leg on the counter and let the other leg hang down, not bothering to pull off my shorts but quickly unbuttoning them and pulling them apart, plunging my hand between my thong and the seam. The black material of my thong was already soaked through, sliding against the slit of my pussy as I ran my finger over the outside. I leaned my head back against the cabinets and moaned, holding onto the edge of the counter with my other hand for support. I sucked on my bottom lip harshly, almost drawing blood, trying to keep in the screams that were threatening to escape.

I couldn't stand to tease myself any longer, my body bucking against my hand, begging for more, desperately needing the release of an orgasm. I stuck the tip of my finger in my pussy from the outside of my thong, pushing the silky material inside, and pulling it out quickly. I did this a few more time until I could take no longer. I pushed it aside and plunged two fingers inside my drenched pussy, crying out against the sensation, arching my back and slamming my head into the cabinet handle behind me. I didn't notice the pain, only continued to shove my fingers inside myself, curving them upwards and attacking the sensitive spot just inside the tight walls of my pussy. My thighs began to shake, the delicious torture of my hand almost being too much.

My entire body thrashed, rubbing into my hand harder, crushing my clit against my wrist and came with a loud moan, almost falling off as I slumped back against the counter for support. I could feel my pussy clench and unclench against my fingers, my juices oozing out from the sides, soaking my shorts even further. I trembled and moaned again as I pulled my fingers out, curiously bringing them to my nose and taking a deep breath.

I wonder if Mary's pussy would smell as sweetly.

Ever so slightly, I touched my fingers to my lip, letting a little moisture stick to my bottom lip. I slowly darted my tongue out, licking my lip, tasting myself.

Just then, the doorbell rang, making me jump and adrenaline replace the haziness of my orgasm.

Shit! Shit! Shit!

I jumped off the counter and quickly tried to rearrange my clothes, but there was no way I was going to be able to hide the flush of my cheeks. A bit disheveled, I walked to the front door, swinging it open as a gust of warm summer air slammed into me.

"Mary!" I exclaimed.