The Noble Friend

I hoped that I, Roger Gathers, would never be put in the situation that I had found myself in. Terry had been my best friend most of my life; we were the stars of the Little League team that came in second in the state, and he was an All-Conference pitcher, and me his All-Conference catcher, in High School. We rented a limo and doubled-dated for the Senior Prom, hung out on weekends, volunteered together at a charity, and played video games. We did almost everything together – except date Brenda that is.

*************

Brenda was Terry's wife. They went to a different college than I did, so the first time that I met Brenda they were already going steady; we were all twenty one years old at the time.

Brenda being with Terry was a crying shame.

While I had had my share of ass by the time that I had met Brenda, I don't think that I was ever in love – except maybe for that college professor's thirty two year old wife that I bonked for four months when I was a junior in college; but she was just using me and I recognized it so I knew that any love that I had for her would always be unrequited even though the sex was incredible. I swear that I was in love with Brenda, however, after I had known her for five minutes.

Why I instantly fell for Brenda is still a mystery to me. While there is no doubt that she is a beautiful woman, I've dated more beautiful ones. She also clearly was near the front of the line when great tits, hips, and asses were handed out – but I've been with women with better bodies than hers. However, there is just something about her that is impossible to describe but grabs the gold ring on my Merry-Go-Round.

Plus she has the best thighs that I've ever seen, anywhere, and I am a leg man.

I was best man at Terry and Brenda's wedding. She looked so hot that I had to cover my crotch with my hands almost the entire ceremony, and fortunately the tent collapsed before I had to walk the maid of honor down the aisle. Fortuitously, the maid of honor was a hot little slut and we left the reception early and I got my rocks off – thinking of Brenda the whole time that I was reaming out her wet pussy – so that I didn't experience the anguish of witnessing Brenda and Terry leaving on their honeymoon.

As karma, destiny, or misfortune – depending upon your point of view – would have it, Brenda, Terry, and me, wound up in not only the same metropolitan area, but the same high rise apartment complex, after we graduated college and Brenda and Terry were married. I had moved there first, and Terry told me that even though he thought that another place was better Brenda insisted that this was the place for them.

The high rise apartment complex was full of people in their 20s and 30s. About half were married, half single, some of the single ones with regular boyfriends or girlfriends, some care-free. It led to lots of parties, and lots of socializing around the pool, tennis courts, game room, or activity center. Terry and I remained best buds, and I did everything possible to suppress my lust for Brenda which – unfortunately – not only didn't go away, but got much worse.

I was already enamored of Brenda before I saw her in a bikini. I soon learned that I couldn't be around her when she was "dressed" like that because there was nothing that I could do to suppress my boner, and whether for better or worse I have a thick dick and large ballsac so that it was almost impossible to hide my embarrassment. I constantly had to have a towel on my lap when on a lounge chair at the side of the pool, and could only swim if I could quickly get into the pool without anyone noticing my "condition."

Even worse was the fact that Brenda caught on to my predicament. Though she had always been super nice to me, for some reason my situation brought out the devil in her, and she would sashay by me with her glorious naked thighs, round ass straining to bust her bikini bottom, and almost completely exposed tits, and try and get me to join her for a dip in the pool, sometimes trying to pull the towel off my lap.

After several times when I left the pool area as soon as I saw her coming, she cornered me at one of the many parties.

"Why do you leave the pool when I show up, Roger? Don't you like me?" Brenda asked with a smile.

Obviously I wasn't going to just come out and say "Actually, my little friend likes you way too much and I'm uncomfortable, especially when you try to pull the towel off my lap," so I tried one of my favorite tricks; turning each of her questions into one of my own. I was successful with that technique in my job, so why shouldn't it work with Brenda too?

"What makes you think that I leave when you show up?" I innocently asked, trying to fake a perplexed look on my face.

"Because you do," she shot back, her smile waning.

"Why do you think that there's a cause and effect relationship between you coming and me going – if that is what happens?"

"Because I see you looking at me, and then immediately thereafter picking up your stuff and clearing out."

"Is there any reason that you can think of that would explain my actions – if they are as you describe?"

"I wouldn't be asking you, Roger, if I knew the explanation."

"Actually, you know very well what the explanation is – that is if my actions really are as you describe – don't you?"

I tried to move out of the corner of the party-apartment den. She blocked my exit. "Is it because I tease you about your hard-on?"

I just smiled.

"What causes that hard-on?" she asked running her finger over my chest and down toward my crotch.

"What do you think, Brenda?"

"Is it little ole me in a bikini?" she chuckled, and then burped. After her burp she covered her mouth with her hand, and then giggled. Brenda never giggles. Not being the most perceptive guy in the world, I apparently had not realized that she was drunk, or close to it, when she was accosting me, probably because she wasn't significantly slurring her words.

After a few seconds of giggling while I probably had a defensive grin on my face, she put her hand on the bulge at my crotch. Damn – I had another hard on.

I gently moved her hand away, grabbed her by her shoulders and turned her to the side so that I could get by and started walking away.

"You're no fun," she giggled.

I only smiled in return, and then left the party. I chalked up her hand on my crotch to her being drunk.

************

After the cornering-at-the-party instance, things really got strange between Brenda and me. She, Terry and I would often double date, or go to events in small groups. I always had a date, and whenever I got affectionate with my date when I looked around Brenda was unrepentantly staring at me. When she now came to the pool she would now wear a one-piece suit instead of a bikini, sneak in so that I didn't see her, sit next to me including by laughingly moving a chair between me and the person next to me if the next seat was occupied, then smile at me and say "Is this suit conservative enough? If so, would you put sunblock on my back, please?" while handing me a tube of SPF 30.

Then came the event that put me in the uncomfortable situation that I mentioned in the first paragraph.

It was the end-of-the-season party at the house of the sponsor of the softball team that Terry and I played on. We were celebrating winning the league championship. Wives and girlfriends were there, although because I didn't have a steady girlfriend at the time and didn't want a date for just a party like that, I was single.

The house was big, the party was wild, everyone was having a good time. After several beers I really had to piss badly and the first floor bathroom was occupied by someone who was obviously retching and might be for some time, so I went to an upstairs hall bathroom. When I exited Brenda was there, sans Terry.

"Did it come out all right?" she playfully asked, wine glass in hand.

"You're so bad," I chuckled.

"Say, there's something that I need to ask you," she said as her smile morphed into a serious look, "and now is as good a time as any. Let's duck in here," she continued, as she opened the door to a spare bedroom next to the upstairs hall bathroom.

I unsuspectedly followed her into the room. Once inside she positioned herself with her back leaning against the closed door.

As Brenda placed her wine glass down on an end table near the bed in the spare bedroom she half-smiled, half-pouted, when she asked me "Why have you never made a pass at me, Roger?"

I was taken aback by her directness.

"You must be drunk," I replied, with a half-smile, "or this is a joke."

"I've only had one glass of wine, and this is no joke," she replied, keeping the same expression on her face. "Why?"

"First of all, and I don't need any more reason than that, you're Terry's wife and he's been one of my best friends, if not THE best friend, most of my life."

"Is that the only reason?" she continued, with what was now a sly smile on her face.

"There are others" I lied, "but that's the only one I need," I retorted, no longer smiling at all.

Brenda approached me, put her hand on my crotch causing my cock to instantly inflate, and said "Terry would never have to know."

I was stunned for a few seconds. I could tell that she was completely sober. My lust for her caused me to remain motionless and startled. With the hand not caressing my cock through my pants she grabbed my shirt and pulled me down for a kiss. Her moist luxurious lips on mine snapped me out of my stupor.

"I...I...can't, you know, uh, can't...do this," I stuttered as I pushed her away. "I would know even if Terry never found out, and I couldn't live with myself."

"You're missing something incredible," she seductively replied.

I knew damn well that that was true, not only because of my long-held lust for her, but because one time when Terry was drunk he explicitly talked about what a freak Brenda was in the sack – so much so that I got hard just listening to him.

"Brenda, I really like you, but I can't do it to Terry," I said as I backed toward the door while still staring at her.

"You sure?" she asked as she raised her skirt, exposing her shaved pussy glistening with moisture and featuring the most prominent clit that I had ever seen.

I gulped, quickly opened the door, exited the room, and closed the door behind me. As I almost stumbled toward the stairs I felt wetness at my crotch. "Shit!" I exclaimed half out loud as I realized that I had spontaneously cum in my pants.

This time I didn't leave the party, mostly because I had ridden with Terry and Brenda and the party house was several miles from our apartment complex. I intentionally spilled a beer on my crotch so that I had an explanation for the wet spot there, and tried to act like nothing had happened. Occasionally I would make eye contact with Brenda and she would smile, wink, or bite her thumb.

The ride home, with Terry driving and Brenda peering over the front seat at me most of the way while we all chatted about inane subjects, I suppressed what had happened. When I got back to my apartment, however, I immediately showered and stroked one off, fantasizing about pummeling Brenda's pussy doggy style while I stimulated her conspicuous clitoris.

When I left the shower weak-kneed, I flopped down on my bed, still naked and barely toweled off. I silently asked myself "What in the fuck are you going to do?" thousands of times.

I guess I finally fell asleep because I woke up cold still lying naked on the comforter with the clock reading 11:55 p. m. I got under the covers and fell back to sleep by promising myself "I'll figure it out tomorrow."

****************

Figuring out what to do was not as simple as promising myself that I would. The situation was grossly complicated. I had to face facts, however; even if I could excuse the time she cornered me the first time because she was drunk, she was stone cold sober at the softball party, and the act of exposing her pussy to me showed that she was completely serious.

Of course I thought about fucking Brenda as often as I could get away with because she was my dream woman; but that solution was at odds with my character, if not my personality. Fucking the professor's wife during college was a lot different because he was an asshole and from her explanations and his actions that I observed, he treated her like shit. Terry, on the other hand, was my best friend and he seemed to revere Brenda and treat her well.

Should I just ignore it and try and avoid Brenda? That didn't sound like a good solution either, however, since it would be almost impossible to do, and if successful was sure to also mess up my relationship with Terry.

Further, if I was in Terry's position would I want to know? How did I know that I was the only one that she was coming on to, and that she wasn't already bonking some other guy? But what would Terry's reaction be when I told him? Would he take it out on the messenger, and would it ruin our relationship anyway even if I was being noble by telling him?

There was a lot to consider, and any solution would have some serious pain associated with it.

It took almost an entire week but I finally decided that I had to tell Terry, and let the chips fall where they may.

Eight days after Brenda propositioned me, a Sunday, in the early afternoon I went with Terry to a sporting event. When I picked him up at his apartment I was friendly with Brenda and we exchanged seemingly platonic hugs. She kissed Terry good-bye and told us to have a good time.

On the way back from the event, I was pensive, trying to work up the courage to tell Terry. "What the fuck is it, dude?" he asked after the fourth or fifth time in a row that I just grunted acknowledgment to something that he said and was far from my normally effusive self.

I looked at him. "We need to have a talk. A bar, or a park bench, your choice?"

"Is it really personal?" he asked with a somber look.

"Yeah, it's really personal."

"Riverbend Park it is, then," he replied, Riverbend Park being about half a mile from our apartment complex and on the way there.

As soon as we solemnly walked to an isolated park bench and sat down he said "Spill it; don't sugar coat it, don't preface it, don't do anything except spill it."

I sighed. "Brenda has propositioned me twice. The first time I thought that I might have misinterpreted and/or because she was drunk or close to it. The second time there was no misinterpreting it, and she was stone-cold sober. I'm sorry dude."

Terry just sat, looking out into space for a few minutes.

"That explains some things," were his first words. After another couple of minutes of silence he continued, not in an accusatory manner, but seemingly just to mollify himself. "You never acted on it, did you?"

"No, I didn't," I meekly responded. "I have to say that I thought about it because Brenda is probably the sexiest woman that I have ever seen in my life, but I couldn't do it to you. It has been virtually the hardest thing in my life to tell you about it, but I felt that that was the only noble thing to do."

After another long pause, during which it was clear that a tear was forming in his eyes, Terry said "Thanks. Let me think about it for a while before I decide what to do."

***********

The next weekend, Brenda, Terry, me, and my date, went to dinner and then went out dancing. It was embarrassing when during a slow song Brenda cut in and told my date "Linda, honey, Terry wants to dance with you."

I looked over at Terry. It didn't look to me like he had sent Brenda over. Linda smiled and Terry graciously extended his hand to her.

Brenda didn't hesitate to glom onto me, stick one of her world class thighs between my legs, and put her head on my shoulder. Her actions, especially the thigh between my legs, apparently had the result that she was expecting since my cock almost burst my zipper. I positioned her as best I could to avoid Terry seeing her, especially when she started nibbling on my ear. "Please stop it Brenda," I mumbled.

"Why? Your little friend is always happy to greet me; why aren't you?"

"You know why; you're Terry's wife. Now stop it," I whispered.

"You'd really enjoy fucking me, Roger. I'd give you the time of your life."

"That's not the point, now stop messing with me," I choked out. Fortunately the slow song ended and a fast one started. Holding Brenda in front of me so that my boner wasn't obvious I smiled as I approached Terry and Linda. "I have to hit the head – I'll be right back."

For the first time in my life I spanked the monkey in a public restroom. Fortunately the restroom was empty, and it only took a half-dozen strokes with liquid soap as the lubricant to unload and they had plenty of paper towels, not just hand dryers.

When I returned, I was able to act naturally, although I was sure to avoid another slow dance with Brenda.

As I walked Linda up to her apartment door she smiled. "Would you like to come in? My roommate isn't here this weekend."

"That's really nice of you, but..." I started to say.

"I wouldn't mind if you pretend that I'm Brenda – you can even call out her name when you fuck me," she interrupted with a big grin on her face.

"What...what...do you mean?" I stuttered.

"It's so obvious that you have the hots for each other; there's no way for you to hide it."

I was gobsmacked. After I stood there silently like an idiot, trying to think of some response Linda stroked the side of my face. "Come on; I have pretty nice thighs too, and I'm not married to your best friend."

With that, she opened her door, gently encouraged me inside her apartment, and undressed right at the door.

She did have really nice thighs, which I had observed at the pool. She also really didn't mind it when I called her Brenda each of the three times that I ejaculated into her pussy before ten o'clock the next morning.

"Thanks, Linda – you're a unique woman," I said as I kissed her good-bye after breakfast.

"Good luck," she smiled as I exited. I would have rather that she had some other farewell, but that was probably the most appropriate one.

Later that day Terry knocked on my door with a twelve pack in his hands. "Are you watching the big game? Mind if I come in?"

"Sure, and no, to your questions," I replied, although I doubted that he was there solely to watch the game.

We did watch the first half, and consumed eleven of the twelve-pack while we did. Then Terry hit me with the real reason for his visit.

"Brenda propositioned you again, last night, didn't she?"

"Yeah – I'm sorry to say that she did," I dejectedly replied.

"Will you do me a big favor, Roger?"

"Sure."

"I want to have no doubt in my mind before I do what I'm contemplating. I need you to wear a small camera and recording device in a situation we set up where she is sure to come on to you again. Will you do that for me?"

"Yes," I replied after some thought. "I really don't want to, but I see this as the logical extension of your reaction once I told you what I did tell you. How will it work?"

****************

Five days after I agreed to help Terry out, he was ostensibly out of town on business. Ostensibly from the road he called Brenda on his cell phone and told her that I was coming by that night to drop off some papers. I showed up about eight o'clock with the hidden micro-camera and microphone that Terry had given me on my body.

"Hi, Roger; come on it," Brenda beamed as she opened the door, "Terry said that you'd be by."

"Hi, Brenda; I'm just dropping off some papers, I hope I'm not being rude by not staying."

"You can stay for a second, can't you?" she grinned as she closed the door. She had a conservative bathrobe on, but also clearly recently applied makeup.