Disclaimer: This story contains futanari.
Credit and thanksgiving to Surine, my editor. Grazie!
~
I was irritable.
The sun was beaming hotter rays than Cyclops, and my sweat-drenched tank-top was proof; this was only a part of my demise, because I had decided to wear cargo pants that day.
Nevertheless, after my morning ritual, which consisted of a two-mile run and a rigorous aerobic stint in the sand at our local beach, I found myself sprinting up and down my favorite basketball court. The sport was my one true passion, in addition to physical conditioning of course.
The court was deserted aside from myself, as the park usually was this early on a weekday. The consistent report of leather meeting concrete eased my nerves as I continued my workout.
Half an hour later, I was stretching on the grass, cooling down and about ready to head for home. I stood up, swiping sweat and specks of sand from my tan skin; I took the moment to admire my body.
I stood at five feet, six inches, and weighed one-hundred-and-twenty-five pounds. I wore my hair short and bobbed, jet black and endlessly adorable; my green eyes were like studs of jade glinting from beneath my bangs.
I was incredibly fit, in the best shape of my life, sporting huge, rock-hard calves, with thighs to match; a lifted, necterine-esque ass; chiseled abs with the mystical 'V' shape leading to my groin; and impressively defined, yet still feminine, biceps and triceps.
The only asset I couldn't flaunt were my breasts; they weren't exactly large, but I wasn't flat either.
After examining myself, I looked up, grateful for the cool breeze kissing my skin and ruffling my clothes. I took a long pull of water from my bottle, but froze when I saw that my basketball was missing. Immediately agitated, I looked around the park, but couldn't locate a single person.
--Until I saw the two boys across the street. Laughing, they tossed the ball back and forth, content with themselves and oblivious to the sweaty blur streaking towards them in a state of rage.
Like I said, I was irritable.
They eventually noticed me, and in a state of panic, tossed my ball skyward and turned tail. Hardly panting, I watched as my ball fell behind a high fence and into a woman's yard as, only a second later, a low groan of pain met my ears.
Mumbling a slew of curse words, I grabbed the fence and easily hoisted myself over the top. I landed lightly and in a crouch, eyes sweeping the yard. The woman whom I had heard only seconds before was glaring at me from behind a pair of lightly tinted glasses, evidently upset that her tanning session had been interrupted.
She was naked, and clutching my ball; and damn, she was gorgeous.
Twenty minutes later, after I had explained to her what had happened, and after she had slipped into a bikini, we were conversing over sun tea, poolside.
"So, Sam, what do you do?"
I sipped the tea slowly, peering into the cool water before answering, "I'm a personal trainer slash massage therapist. And you, Nicole?"
The blonde was apparently far from dumb as she replied, "I'm an attorney."
"No shit. You aren't going to sue me for emotional distress are you?"
Nicole only responded with a lazy wink from behind her glasses, sucking upon the straw that fed her tea.
At a loss for words and in need of a shower, I stood up, basketball in hand.
"Well, it was a pleasure meeting you Nicole, and again, I'm sorry for intruding."
The bikini clad bombshell, who made me feel body conscious in a feminine aspect, waved my sentiment aside. She fixed those chocolate brown eyes on mine, revealing pearly whites behind luscious lips.
"That's quite alright honey; I'll have you repay me sometime."
~
Over the next couple of weeks, whenever I wasn't whipping overweight slobs into shape, and whenever Nicole wasn't seducing the jury to see things her way, she and I got together.
We began to bond and quickly became each other's best friend. I learned that she had never married, had no kids, loved jazz, hated asparagus, and was thirty-four years young.
She learned that I had a short temper. And was twenty-five.
Amongst all of our dates and pow-wows, I remember vividly the night when our friendship was tossed against the ropes.
~
I was sitting at a table by myself, at a quaint Italian restaurant; Nicole had, obviously, chosen the venue--I was definitely having salad tonight.
I wore an elegant yet casual black blouse, sleeveless, with charcoal grey business slacks and very small heels. I despised the look, but Nicole was rubbing off on me; I missed the comfort of basketball shorts and a pair of Nikes.
I looked up and saw, in a rather cliche type of way, Nicole, who had just entered the establishment. Damn, I thought; she's beautiful.
And she was. Clad in a form-fitting little black dress that accented her every voluptuous curve, I could only stare holes into her body. How incredibly large was her bust, that her breasts bounced and jiggled with every step. How seductive her eyes, encased behind rectangular frames. How innocent her golden locks, the hair falling past her shoulder.
How embarrassing my delight, cheeks seemingly ablaze as I stood to greet her, eyes wide as they found Nicole's. We embraced by exchanging kisses to each others cheeks before taking our seats.
"Wow, Nicole. You look fabulous."
She chuckled innocently, accustomed to the fact that I body-watched as a hobby; it came with the job.
"Thanks babe. Could you do me a favor?"
"Sure, what is it?"
"Rub my feet a little?"
She tilted her head and pursed her lips, eyes wide and seemingly liquifying. I agreed, but only to end her begging. By now, she had also grown accustomed to the skilled hands I wielded.
For the next ten minutes, as we waited for our food to arrive, I handled Nicole's feet and she told me about a hung jury that had allowed a potential murderer back on the streets.
"My star witness choked on the stand and couldn't readily iden--"
The conversation was interrupted, however, when I moved up her legs, to her calves. I kneaded and fingered her taut muscles, loosening and relaxing them.
"Oooo. That feels nice Sammy."
She was appreciative, moaning softly, eyes closed. I was secretly aroused, and I could only assume that for her, it was strictly platonic. That upset me just a tad, but I don't know why.
Nicole stretched her legs out to flex her calves, when her feet grazed my groin; her moanimg dissipated instantly. She opened her eyes and fixed them on me, trying to find the right words to illustrate her thoughts. Just then, a pack of waiters surrounded our table and began to sing 'Happy Birthday' to Nicole.
She was confused and ignored the birthday wish I had set for her, and continued to watch me, expression quizzical. I muttered an apology, tears stinging my eyes as I stood and very quickly fled the scene.
~
A series of knocks at my door aroused me from my slumber. I had crashed on the sofa, distraught with how my evening had turned out. It wasn't any better now, since it was three in the morning and I was no longer asleep.
Another set of booming knocks motivated me to my feet; another illicited a curse word from my illustrious vernacular. I yanked the door open, ready to spit venom, when a fist caught me on the nose. I flinched back in pain, holding my face.
"Oh shit, I'm sorry Sammy!"
Nicole ushered me inside, closed the door, and ordered that I wait in the living room.
A short while later, Nicole was eyeing me from only inches away, making sure that I kept the icepack on my swelling nose. I sighed loudly, pulling the pack away.
"Look, I'm fine Nicole, now will you please tell me why you're here?"
She averted my gaze, her dark eyes fixed on the far wall. My apartment was deathly silent, but the tension was vastly overwhelming.
"What are you, Sam?"
The question made me flinch, my heavy eyelids sliding over my emerald orbs. Heart hammering against my ribs, I opened my mouth to speak, but couldn't find the words.
I felt Nicole stand from the sofa and assumed she was leaving, but when I didn't hear the door open and close, I stole a peek.
She was staring right at me and slowly slid her glasses off. She tossed them aside and went to work on her trench coat, unbuttoning it and unsheathing the belt. She opened the coat to reveal a two-sizes-too-small tank-top that threatened to rip apart around her breasts and a pair of small booty shorts.
The breath I was about to exhale caught in my throat as my eyes roamed Nicole's body. Her womanly curves were delicious to the eye, an endless mural of flawless skin on display. What was most seductive, however, were her eyes, free from frames and undeniably arousing.
She stepped towards me ever so slowly, teasing me, stretching my patience thin. Only when she straddled my lap, her legs outside mine with her feet on the sofa, did I finally take a breath.
Nicole, however, stole it away again as she leaned forward and draped her arms around my neck, pressing her lips against mine, her breasts smothering my own.
The desired effect made itself evident, my erection pressing through my pajama pants and into Nicole's taut stomach. I was overcome with guilt and shame by the time our kiss ended.
Hanging my head, I uttered, "I'm sorry."
