Kell opened the door just as Mike was starting to knock. She gave him a smile that didn't look too forced. He gave her a smile that was somehow both eager, but apologetic.
"Hey, Kell." He looked a bit self-conscious. She could tell from the way he was hunched over, and how he made sure his jacket hung out a bit from his middle, that he was already sporting a hard-on.
"Hey, Mike." Her tone was flat.
"I was wondering if you wanted to hang out, and, um..."
Kell made a little sigh, turned, and beckoned him inside as she walked back to her living room. "You can play with yourself, but I'd really like it if this visit wasn't just that."
"Oh, thank you!" he said, his voice thick with relief. "After last time, you seemed like you were getting fed up." Despite his words, he was already undoing his belt as he closed the door behind him. He practically raced after her, barely getting himself positioned in front of her couch before his pants fell to his ankles, and he dropped back onto the cushion.
With a sigh, almost a moan, of relief, he grasped his hard penis, and began to stroke it in earnest. Watching him, Kell felt the familiar stirrings of pity. But as he leaned back and closed his eyes, becoming lost in the pleasure he so desperately craved, she could tell he was already almost oblivious to her presence.
"You better not only be here to get your rocks off," she said, settling onto the other side of the couch.
"Nuh," he mumbled. "No, no, of course not..." His stroking sped up. "Of course not..."
"Good," she said, turning to the television and clicking it on. She scrolled through until she found a random sitcom, and let it play on low volume. "So what have you been up to?"
"Uh, you know, just the usual," he said. His hand moved quickly. "Ugh, Kell, I'm gunna cum."
"Not without permission, you're not," she said.
"So give me permission," he said. His voice was tinged with irritation.
"Not until we have a normal conversation like we used to," she said, scowling at him. "You know, before the only thing we ever talked about was your dick."
Mike grunted, and forced himself to slow his stroking. He didn't quite stop, but he stalled the inevitable hard edging he'd experience if he tried to cum without her say so. "Come on, just let me shoot, and we can talk all you want."
"Watch the tone," Kell said, narrowing her eyes.
Mike grit his teeth and finally looked at her. He had to force himself not to check out her curves. Even though she wore a sweater and jeans, her clothes were quite form-fitting, and his eyes lingered on her chest. His cock flexed between his fingers, and he kept stroking. "Come on, Kell. Are we friends or not?"
Kell sighed and looked to the TV, shifting her body subtly, but enough to make sure the swell of her breasts was quite obvious. As soon as she broke eye contact, she knew his gaze had snapped right to her chest.
"We were," she said. "And now I'm just your cum dump."
Mike still couldn't take his eyes off her, and still couldn't stop himself from stroking. But his voice was full of frustration. "Cum dump? We don't sleep together. You won't even touch me."
"You're not my type," said Kell. "You're my friend, and fucking you would just ruin that." She shook her head. "But I guess even helping you jerk off is enough for that."
"Why would it ruin it?" said Mike, hotly. "We like each other, you've said I'm handsome, I think you're gorgeous..." He shivered as he felt his orgasm welling up. He had started stroking faster again without realizing it.
"And when your dick starts leading our every interaction, you stop seeing me as a person, and start seeing me as a release valve," she said, just as hotly. "When's the last time you actually came over because you wanted to have fun with me, and not because you needed to get your jollies?"
Mike frowned, but blushed. She spared him a quick side glance, noticing his eyes were still on her chest. His hand didn't stop stroking. He at least had the decency to look ashamed, but clearly his need was too great to ignore.
"Kell... I'm sorry, okay? I really am. You think I don't feel bad about this?"
She crossed her arms, still staring at the TV, though not really watching the show. Despite being a stand-offish pose, she made sure it accentuated the curve of her breasts. "I think the only part of you that feels bad is your balls."
Mike shook his head vehemently. "That's not true!"
She extended her legs, crossing them at the ankle. She wasn't wearing shoes, and she flexed her toes a bit. Mike's eyes were drawn to them, despite himself. He wanted to slow his hand, but he was already so close.
They'd never had sex, but he'd given her a foot massage once. With her feet in his lap, so close to his cock, she'd noticed him getting hard. She'd made a joke about how it was okay, she had hard feet, too. He asked if she'd massage his own hardness out. She'd hesitated, and then slowly pressed her foot against his crotch, giving it a little nudge. He went stiff and his breath caught short, but she pulled away immediately.