Rachel's Love Potion's Love Potion
Part One
I woke up not to an alarm, but to the soft pink haze of the sun dribbling through the east window of my bedroom. I'd always been an early riser, and even when I'd had a Job job it had been common for me to wake up before my alarm. Nowadays, I could sleep in as late as I wanted every day, all thanks to Knox, the best best friend any girl could ever have.
The man I was careful not to wake as I slipped out of bed.
So yes, my best friend was in my bed, as naked as I was, but I want to be clear about something. Knox is
not
my boyfriend. I know some women call their boyfriends and husbands their best friends, but I've always thought that was kind of (and pardon my French) bull poopy. Those girls have friends who know stuff about them that their husband would never even guess at. For me and Knox, it really was a totally platonic arrangement. He was my best friend, and I was his, and that was far as it went.
As for the nakedness thing, that was one of those things that was kind of an inside joke between the two of us. I know a lot of people wouldn't really get Knox and I, which is why I don't bother trying to explain. When it comes to a best friend who comes over whenever he wants, help himself to the fridge and then fucks your face without so much as a how-do-you-do, that was pure Knox. But I didn't mind! Heck, ever since I'd gotten over my hangups about my "bestie who molests me," (my jokey term for him), we were thick as thieves, the two of us, and I wouldn't have it any other way.
I mean, I guess it'd be nice if he didn't feel like he could just use me as a "cheap stupid fuck toy" (his jokey term for me), but hey. I know I drove him crazy when I made him join me for Sponge Bob marathons, so we're all putting up with stuff from each other. That's what friendship is, right?
Last night, he'd been fucking me so hard and so late into the night that by the time he came in me, we were both too exhausted to bother with PJs. For a while, I'd
never
bothered with them - Knox said it was a crime to cover up a body like mine with the shapeless flannels I favored. I'd pouted that I got cold when I slept naked, and we'd soon reached a compromise. He could pick out my pajamas for me.
We didn't exactly have the same tastes, but hey, that's what compromise is all about. I got to wear PJs again, and he got to see me in all sorts of skimpy little outfits that I would have never normally worn, even if it was only me in the house. Negligees, camisoles, things so sheer they may as well have been saran wrap (but surprisingly breathier). My favorite was an outfit that looked (and fit) like he'd bought it out of a children's catalog. It was flannel - yay! - but skin-tight. The top buttoned down, or it had anyway, before Knox removed all but the bottom button. The pants were normal except for the butt flap, which he always had me leave open for easy access. He's such a character like that sometimes, my best friend.
I headed to the bathroom and started with a quick shower to rinse away all the dried sweat and spit and cum from last night. I made sure not to scrub too hard; the ointments Knox had massaged into my skin were soaked in, but he'd warned me it might dilute the effect.
Did I mention Knox is into alchemy?
I guess I shouldn't say "into alchemy," like I'm into knitting. He's a warlock, as in full time. I didn't even know warlocks were a thing until Knox told me about it, and to be honest, I sort of doubted it. At first, anyway. Once he'd proven it to me with this hilarious ritual that made me act like a horny bitch in heat - literally, a female dog who couldn't wait to mate - I became a believer. Nothing quite like howling out an orgasm while your best friend takes you from behind to make you realize he is what he says.
So what does this ointment do? Knox says it's a beauty enhancer - keeps my skin soft and supple, and it's helping make my boobs a teensy bit bigger, my butt a little rounder, my vagina a little tighter, and a bunch of other little changes. Knox had actually needed some of my blood to make it - crazy, right? But day by day, I was reaping the dividends. Not that I'd wanted any of that, but I guess it couldn't hurt to look a little more attractive, right? One of these days, I'd be able to keep a boyfriend again, and it wouldn't hurt to look good. (Dating was hard, after all, when guys never understood why I'd let my best friend drag me by the waist of my pants out to their car for a quickie fuck in the middle of a date. And I
hate
jealous guys - what would I do without Knox to help me screen my beaus?)
Speaking of looking good, though, time to be out of the shower and into the makeup drawer. Getting ready used to be such a breeze. A little eyeliner, some lipstick, maybe some concealer if I was having a bad skin day. Now it was a whole thing, and it took like a half hour. I'd given my bestie a lot of design input on it, and the end effect was actually a little over the top - "whorish" my old best friend Joanna had called it, and she kinda had a point - but it kept Knox happy.
He could be a real fusspot, I'd learned. When he didn't get his way, watch out! One time I'd tried to insist he not finger me under the table at a restaurant, and on the way home, he'd made me take my skirt off and walk the last mile home in just my top and my panties. It was easier just to mollify him. I liked it when things were smooth between us, and I guess I'm sort of a people pleaser by nature. Especially when my buddy Knox is the people in question.
Once I was all done up, it was time to get in my morning cardio, then off to make breakfast for the two of us. It was funny, in a way. I always used to hate cooking. My ex-boyfriend Jim had always complained about how much I spent dining out. But Knox had given me the nudge I needed, signing me up for cooking classes and giving me the best incentive of all to learn - the satisfied look on my friend's face when I got to feed him.
Once I was dressed and ready for the day, I went down to the kitchen and got to work. Like usual, the smell of fresh bacon was enough to wake Knox up. He lumbered downstairs in the robe he kept in my bedroom and a pair of boxers, yawning and stretching to the ceiling. I grinned as always at the sight of him scratching his sparsely haired belly. "Morning, sunshine! Sleep good?"
"Your sweet little cunt really put me through the paces," he said, sitting down at the table and dumping both breakfasts onto his plate. "I slept like the dead."
"I'll say. Usually you wake me up at least once or twice to play with my booty. But last night, nothing." I stood back up to get to work on making myself something to eat.
"Thanks for the breakfast, Rach. You look super hot today, by the way."
"You're welcome, and thanks right back at you. You know, I almost went with the baby blue, but these pink ones are just too comfy to pass up." It was true. The cotton panties I was wearing were soft and snug without being too snug. The blue ones were cute, but the fact that they were crotchless meant they never felt quite right down there. Of course I wasn't wearing any other clothes either, so I wanted the little I was wearing to be cozy.
It had surprised me how quickly I could get used to sitting around mostly naked every day. When Knox had donated my wardrobe to Goodwill, at first, I was honestly pretty upset. Thousands of dollars of clothes, gone overnight! Even aside from the practical aspects of owning nothing but underwear and swimsuits, those clothes had been a part of me, my style, you know? It felt like he'd given away a piece of me. So I ordered us dinner and sat him down to tell him about my feelings. I'd even had to quit my job, since I couldn't exactly go to the office in my bra and panties.
At first he insisted he didn't care - that's my Knox for ya - but after a few days of watching me mope around the house naked, I think he started to come around. When I stopped by his house to visit him one night, crying because someone had seen me sneaking over in a string bikini and cat-called me really crudely, he cracked.
How on earth does a girl afford a whole new wardrobe? It's simple - she doesn't. She just has the best best friend in the whole world! For the next couple months, Knox took care of me completely. First, he installed this whole new ultra-high-end security system - cameras in every room of the house, even the bathroom. (Three in the shower alone!) After all, who's more vulnerable than a young, attractive, perpetually near-naked girl trapped in her house?
I was skeptical at first about having a security company I'd never heard of able to look at me naked whenever they wanted, but Knox assured me they were top-rated professionals. Plus, this was part of a pilot program for them, so they would actually pay me just to let them run their service in my home! Now I'm not stupid; I was pretty sure it was all nonsense, and the cameras were streaming yours truly to the entire pervy world. Still, if he was willing to go to such lengths, and then lie about it to my face, he obviously needed the money really badly, and I wasn't about to wound his fragile ego by calling him on it. If he wanted to pretend it was all legit, I played right along - because that's what best friends do.
As for my clothing problem, Knox solved that too! He bought me all sorts of new clothes to wear so I could finally leave the house again. Maybe they weren't exactly my style, but they were gifts, and I've always said it's the thought that counts. If it means I have to constantly be tugging down the back of my shorts because it feels like half my ass is exposed (which is pretty close to the reality of it), or trying not to notice every red-blooded guy with an eyeline to me leering, so what? They were free! And so thoughtful. Mortifying, yeah, but every time I thought about saying something, I remembered the time I'd sneezed out a mouthful of cum all over him on this one really high-pollen afternoon, I remembered that he was putting up with some embarrassment on my account, too.
Knox finished breakfast and headed out for the day, probably off to do some kind of amazing warlocky things. After that I was free to put said wardrobe to use. I hit the gym, trying not to notice all the guys checking me out in my booty shorts. It was a good day, too. I added more than a quarter mile to my routine, and none of the staff members took me aside to complain about my nipples peeking out of my skimpy sports bra. (They
were
peeking, of course - Knox had spent a whole weekend finding a sports bra that skimpy - but the male manager, Jack, was on duty today, and he never minded. I bet he and Knox would get along great, if only I were willing to share!
After the gym, it was finally time for something I'd been really excited about for a long while. I got to actually spend a little time catching up with my old best friend, Joanna.
We've been friends since forever. We rode the same bus together back in elementary school, believe it or not! If you go back far enough, there was a brief time where she was sort of a bully, but my mom had taught me that people who are cruel are doing it because so much cruelty has been heaped on them that it spills out on those around them. (Words that help relax me when Knox twists my nipples or spanks me too hard, as well.) So one day I invited Joanna to sit next to me on the bus, and the rest was history.
A lot of people don't really get me and Joanna, a lot like how nobody gets me and Knox. She and I are sort of an opposites attract kind of duo. Physically, for starters. I'm short and skinny, but she's like six inches taller than me and has curves for days. I'm tan and blonde; she's pale and dyes hers wine red. I guess we both have long hair? Either way, it's more than just physical. Our personalities were opposites, too, and it always cracks us up how people just can't pigeonhole us. Joanna is clever, and witty, and a little mean (but not a bully any more, not since ages and ages!), but she's also one of the most confident women I know. I'm nervous about a million stupid things, but Joanna is
fearless
.
As I settled into our usual booth in the coffee shop, I tried to think of the last time we'd hung out. Not since I started hanging with Knox, probably, or thereabouts. She'd always been bad at texting and relied on me to set up engagements, but lately I'd been having a hard time fending her off. How do you tell your old best friend she's been replaced? And that her replacement doesn't want you hanging out with any of your other friends any more? I was secretly sort of giddy with how Knox wanted me all to himself - it showed how he cared about spending time with me the same way I did with him. So I made up some excuses about how I'd had a hard time coping with my break-up with whathisname, and finally set up a time to meet. I could only hope Knox didn't find out. He was
not
