A Good & Trusted Friend

I pulled open the heavy wooden door with the polished brass "Accounting" label and stuck my head inside, just as I had last done six years earlier. She was still at the same desk.

"How about lunch, kiddo?"

Her head snapped toward the door in recognition.

"Lee!" she screamed loudly enough for the entire hotel to hear it. She jumped up and ran over to me and gave me the enthusiastic hug I had been hoping for. "I'm so glad you made it in okay! Let me grab my purse and coat and we'll go." She yelled at her manager that she was going to lunch, and off we went.

I had called Sheri two weeks earlier after learning that I was going to be spending this week in Seattle on business. We had known each other for nearly fifteen years. At 44, she's four years younger than I. She and I had become close friends during my time on the sheriff's department. Whenever I got assigned to dignitary protection at the hotel, I would always try and take her out to lunch. She was no-nonsense and very businesslike in the office but very easy to talk with as a friend. Had she not already been married, I would have thought seriously about dating her. She was certainly attractive enough. A pretty round face with very blue eyes, shoulder-length blond hair, about 5-feet-3, 125 pounds, generally a nice figure. Her hips seemed a little wide because of a congenital bone deformity. That always caused her to appear to limp. However as we walked through the hallway, I noticed that the limp was gone. And I had certainly noticed that her figure was slimmed down. Her legs were trimmer, as were her hips. I stopped her so I could look at her more closely.

"Sheri, you really look really great."

Her smile was radiant. She did a model's turn and struck a mock-glamour pose. She looked even younger than the last time I'd seen her.

"You remember the surgery I had just before you left? Well, it corrected the bone problem. And two years of physical therapy did wonders for me. The therapists said that there really wasn't anything that I couldn't do, so I started walking and doing moderate exercise. My weight dropped off, my muscle tone improved, and I'm a new girl." That was quite an understatement!

We strolled along and found the same café where we had always lunched. The original owners were still there and they remembered me, so we visited with them briefly. Finally, they took our sandwich orders and then led us to a secluded table well away from the busy lunch crowd.

We talked about anything and everything. She was as interesting as ever, and we chatted just like old times.

"Well, how's your love life? Are you married yet? You better not have gotten married without sending David and me an invitation!" Ever since we met, Sheri had been trying to marry me off.

"Nah. The business occupies most of my time. So, how are you and David doing? You've been married for what, about seventeen years now?"

"We're doing fine." She was not totally convincing. "David still travels as much as when you were here. I really wish he would take a desk job with the company. Lord knows, they've offered him one plenty of times. But he just seems to love being on the road."

When I asked about a few people I had known at the hotel, she brightened up again and filled me in on who was where now in the hotel chain.

The waiter came and cleared our dishes away and refilled our coffee. We both knew that our long overdue lunch would soon end.

We talked for a while longer, and then Sheri became quite serious.

"Lee, I'm really glad you called a couple weeks ago to let me know you were going to be in town. It gave me a chance to do some serious thinking. Do you remember our last time together?"

I did. Her husband had been out of town, so we met for dinner rather than lunch. It had been a pleasant dinner at a quiet restaurant. Nothing romantic, certainly nothing sexual. Just good friends enjoying each other's company.

She continued.

"Do you remember what I said to you about our friendship? How much I appreciated your having never made a pass at me, not once. You were always a perfect gentleman. Not even an off-color joke. I always felt safe and protected with you. I knew that I could trust you and rely on you, and that if I ever needed help, you would be there."

"I do remember that. That was a very nice compliment. But you know, Sheri, it wasn't that I didn't want to make a pass at you. God knows you're still one of the sexiest ladies I know. But I held back just because you are such a good friend, and good friends are hard to find and keep."

"Would you be too disappointed in me if I were to tell you that I was only being partially truthful with you then?"

That was a puzzling question.

"Sheri, I can't imagine anything you could say that could disappoint me."

She was hesitating, clearly choosing her words carefully. She looked deep into my eyes as she spoke with her heart.

"That night in the restaurant, the last time we were together, I was actually hoping that you might not behave like a perfect gentlemen. I suspected that you wanted me, and I would have gone with you gladly." Suddenly, I felt a very sexual connection to her.

She went on, "You see, that night, I really wanted you to take me to a hotel room, not take me home. I so needed to have you make me feel like a desirable woman again." She paused. Before she could continue, I spoke.

"Sheri, I'm sorry. I didn't know. Or maybe I did but I just didn't want to admit it. Hell, practically every time we were together, I fantasized afterwards about how I would make love to you. But, you were married...and I didn't want to cause you any pain by doing anything that would come between you and David. Believe me, it wasn't easy for me to behave."

She was still looking into my soul through my eyes. She gently put her hand on top of mine.

"Please understand. David is a wonderful husband. He loves me dearly and treats me very well. I cannot imagine being married to anyone else. I would certainly never leave him. But...right now, I need more than he is able to offer."

She paused, as if thinking how best to go on.

"I am telling you this because I trust you more than anyone else in the world except for David. You see, several years ago, before you moved away, David completely lost interest in sex. He still tries to make love to me, but he doesn't feel anything sexual. He's being mechanical, trying his best to satisfy me. I act like I'm satisfied, but I'm not. I love him and don't want to hurt him."

"Has he seen a doctor?"

"Of course. There is nothing physiologically wrong with him. The doctor gave him Viagra to try out. With his sex drive gone, all that did was give him an erection. It didn't give him any pleasure, and without that, I didn't enjoy it either. The doctor has tried everything he can think of, including herbal medications, but nothing works. David has even talked with a psychologist. We've gone to other doctors and even a sex therapist, but none of them have been able to help him. David knows that I love him very much, but I'm doing my best to not let him know how much I miss having real sex with him."

"I'm sure he loves you very much as well. It must be very difficult for him to know that he's not satisfying you. I know this must be hard for you, too. You know how much it would hurt David if you were to have a cheap fling with some guy you picked up. And frankly, Sheri, I know you well enough to know that you wouldn't do that."

"You're right. Even if I were to go to bed with some stranger whom I'd never see again, I wouldn't feel fully satisfied ... only guilty."

Her eyes were soft, almost teary. She looked into mine for several seconds before she spoke again.

"But I could be satisfied if the man were a good friend whom I trusted."

I felt as if a truck had struck me. When I didn't respond right away, Sheri spoke again. She wasn't begging or pleading, just explaining matter-of-factly.

"I am sexually attracted to you, and now I know you are attracted to me, too. I need to feel that sexual desire in the man I'm with. I can only feel fulfilled by a man I care for and trust, but I don't want to fall in love with him. I need to feel something for him, just not love. And for me to be fulfilled, I also need to know without any doubt that I am satisfying him. I need for him to tell me in his own way just what and how he is feeling. Can you understand what I'm saying?"

I nodded.

"David leaves tomorrow on another business trip. He won't be back for two weeks. So, I guess what I'm asking is, would you consider..."

I lightly touched her lips with my index finger. I didn't want her to feel she had to ask. Then I took her hand and kissed it. And smiled. Her eyes teared again as she smiled back at me.

"I'm at the Holiday Inn, the one on International Boulevard, just across from Sea-Tac. Here's my room number." I wrote "1103" on the back of my business card and placed it in her hand.

"Lee, thank you. Tomorrow night at 8?"

I smiled. "I'll look forward to it."

Our eyes met again, and this time her sexuality was overpowering. When she finally spoke again, her voice was deeper.

"One more thing," she said. "Only my husband can make love to me. Tomorrow night, I don't want you to make love to me. I want you to fuck me." She emphasized the word "fuck," and there was no doubt about her meaning. "And I'm not coming as your friend Sheri. There is nothing taboo, nothing off limits. Nothing." As she said that, she stood up to leave. Her sexual rebirth had begun.

I stood, too. No one could see us. She walked closer to me and rubbed her hand firmly over my now very hard and very obvious erection. "I think you better sit down and have another cup of coffee before you try to leave." She smiled, clearly very pleased and perhaps reassured with the effect she'd had on me. The she turned and walked away.

My meetings the following day were uneventful. I went back to the hotel, had a very light dinner, then showered and shaved. I dressed in a white Docker's sport shirt and slacks and Topsiders with no socks. And waited. A little nervously.

I replayed our conversation from the day before over and over in my mind. "I don't want you to make love to me. I want you to fuck me." "I'm not coming as your friend Sheri." "Nothing taboo, nothing off limits. Nothing."

I was standing on the balcony when I heard the knock at the door. I closed the sliding door behind me, though not the drapes, then glanced at the bedside clock. Eight o'clock.

I opened the door, and a Sheri I had never seen before strode in without speaking. I caught a faint scent of perfume. Not overpowering, very enticing. As I closed the door, she stopped in directly in front of the balcony door and windows and looked out at the Ramada Inn across the street. She paused briefly as if making a decision. Then, while still facing the glass, she began to slowly unbutton each of the four buttons on her full-length black wool coat. I stood speechless. She opened the coat and put both hands on her hips. I wondered what anyone across the street could see. Then, as if reading my mind, she quickly turned toward me, removed the coat and threw it on the chair.

I was speechless at what I saw. Dumbstruck might be more accurate.

She was wearing a long, black, very sheer stretch lace floral gown with an incredibly inviting front opening that went all the way up to the black g-string she was wearing underneath. Her breasts were clearly visible beneath the sheer gown, and I was astounded by their mature fullness. What she usually had worn at the office hid her treasures well. With my mouth getting drier in anticipation, I followed the dress line down her body to her legs. She wore sheer black thigh-high stay up stockings with black lace tops and four-inch black stiletto heels.

Now, in my opinion there is absolutely nothing sexier that a woman dressed in a long evening gown. I also happen to prefer "natural" women, women with real-world figures, not model's figures. I like roundness, firmness, naturalness, not boniness, not artificial enhancements. Sheri had 44 years of sexual magnetism that beckoned me the way no younger woman could. She was supremely confident in her sexuality. She had no concerns that I might look at her and compare her figure to that of a much younger woman. No, she knew that her experience and her own body in all its natural beauty could still pleasure a man. There was no look of uncertainty or anxiety in her eyes. There was only the look of seduction, a look that sent a jolt through my body.

I went to close the drapes, but she extended her bare arm to stop me.

"Let them watch." Her voice was sure, husky.

Nothing was taboo, nothing.

The hand she had used to stop me now gripped the front of my shirt and pulled me to her. Quickly. I started to kiss her lightly, but she wanted more. In a flash, she put her arms around my neck and grabbed my hair with both her hands. She pulled herself to me and me to her and pushed her mouth against mine. I felt her tongue thrusting hungrily into my mouth and her body grinding against mine, seeking, rubbing, arousing, sexually consuming. I instinctively wrapped my arms around her torso and began to writhe against her, my tongue searching for hers. Our mouths crushed, and I felt her low growl vibrate through me.

Suddenly, she released the grip on my hair and at the same time pushed me away. She was breathing heavily, wanting, needing. She grabbed my shirtfront with both hands and ripped the shirt open, buttons flying. Then as she peeled the shirt off my body, she brought herself to me again. I felt the warm fullness of her breasts against my chest while she once again devoured my mouth with hers. We embraced, kissed, my mouth traveling along her jawline to her throat, then to the bare and hot skin at the base of her neck. Then along her shoulder, then back to her neck, quickly. I could hear and feel her passion building.

She reached down with both hands and was unfastening my trousers while we tasted each other. Her hands slid my trousers off my hips, and they dropped to the floor. I stepped out of them and my shoes. Now both her hands were caressing the bulge in my underpants. Her hot, noisy kisses, her murmurs and the massage of her fingers on my cock were arousing me to a stage I had not known since my youth.

Then it was my turn to push her away. She looked startled only briefly as I spoke.

"If you want to give them a show, let's give them a real show."

I took her by the arms and turned her around so that she was once again facing the full-length balcony windows. I moved up close behind her, my arms still on hers, my erection now bulging in my shorts. She drew her arms up behind my head and guided my head to her neck again. I ran my hands down her arms to her bare shoulders, then down her side to her hips. Then, without any warning, I quickly brought my hands around her waist and up to briefly cup her breasts, her nipples erect under the filmy gown. She gasped and then hissed as I carefully but forcefully took both nipples between my thumbs and index fingers and pulled gently. Her breathing was becoming quicker, her responses much more audible.

I growled into her ear, "Let's show 'em what you've got, baby!" Then I slid my thumbs under the gown's straps, pulled them quickly down over her shoulders. I continued to pull until her breasts were fully exposed but still supported underneath by the gown. After only a second or two, I cupped my hands over her breasts again and began to massage them, gently but firmly.

Sheri moaned her approval of my aggression. "Do it hard, baby," she cried. "This is what I want!" Then she began to struggle in theatrical resistance. She wanted intimate sexual force.

Still behind her, I reached down and grabbed her stockinged calves with each hand. Then I slid my hands up her calves, up her thighs, pulling her gown up to her waist. I pulled it quickly up over her head and threw it aside. Now, she wore only the black g-string and the heels. I pushed her forward so that her breasts pressed against the cold glass. "Oh, God!" she gasped as the needles of pierced her nipples.

"You like this, don't you, baby?" I whispered with my mouth against her ear.

"Fuck you!" she yelled in mock anger.

"That's exactly what I have in mind. But not yet!"

I spun her around so she was once again facing me. The look of power lust in her eyes almost frightened me.

Again, she crushed her mouth to mine, and I mine to hers. At the same time, I reached down and while still tongue-fucking her mouth, untied the side ties on her g-string. Then I pulled it quickly away and threw it across the room. "Ohhhhhhh," she groaned as her pussy was revealed.

She began to grind her now-naked pussy against my cock beneath my shorts. Now she took control. I wanted to kiss her all over, but she would have none of it.

She dropped to her knees in front of me, exposing me to whoever might be watching from across the street. I didn't care. In fact, it excited me as well.

Sheri began to run her hands over the front of my shorts. Over my cock. Around my buttocks. My erection was so strong that my cockhead was peeking over the top of the waistband elastic. She looked up at me and smiled a wicked, wanton smile and then pulled my shorts down, allowing my penis to fall forward.

Using only her fingertips she began to caress my erection. Up, then down, then around. Over and over again. My muscles tensed with each touch. Soft but firm. Intensely erotic. "Ummm. That feels soooo good."

"If you like that, you'll love this." She grasped my erect shaft to hold it, not too tightly. Then she stuck out her tongue and touched the very tip of my cock. Slowly, painfully slowly, she used the tip of her tongue to trace circles around my head. As she worked her way around, she increased her tongue pressure and drew her tongue back toward her mouth, pulling my cock closer and closer to her mouth. I exhaled sharply as her mouth kissed my head, then drew it into her, still circling the tip with her tongue. I could feel her warm saliva lubricating my head. The pleasure was indescribable, sending jolts of fire through me with each circle of her tongue. She continued for several minutes. Now I was fighting to avoid cumming. Never had any woman excited me so much. She sensed that I was near, so she slowly withdrew and stood upright. She stepped back, legs apart, now wearing only the black lace-top stockings and the heels, hands on hips. She turned once again to face the window, fully exposing herself to any onlookers. She looked back over her shoulder and said, "C'mon, lover, it's show time!"

I walked over behind her, pushing my cock up against her ass. She did a slow shimmy against me with her rear. I put my hands on her hips, then moved them slowly around over her belly. Massaging. Touching. Downward to her exposed thighs. I pushed my fingers to the inside of her thighs and scraped them lightly with my fingernails. She groaned as her body seemed to shiver all over. Now our bodies were swaying from side to side, my front to her back, my arms around her.

I kept my left hand stroking the inside of her left thigh and moved my right hand to the soft roundness between her navel and her mons. The warmth of my hand resting there made her sigh. Then I began to use my fingertips to move slowly, tantalizingly downward. I felt the edge of her pubic hair. It was soft and lush. While using my right hand to tease at the margins of her vulva, I slowly moved my left hand up along her left side. I guided it under her left breast and began fingertip caresses, strokes, touches there. The light touches were overcoming her, and she was beginning to move her body to increase the pressure of my hands. Her uplifted arms were again behind my head, pulling my lips to the exposed skin of her shoulders and neck. I licked, kissed, and licked some more wherever there was warmth.