Page 36 of Two’s Better

He placed a hand on each of my thighs, his grip startlingly warm. We’d taken our shoes off at the front door, so I didn’t have to worry about my heels as he slid his hands up underneath my skirt, gently stroking my dimpled skin, the soft material of the dress sliding over the back of his knuckles.

I was breathing hard, but I didn’t stop his slow exploration until he had his hands on my hips. He squeezed, then rubbed his thumbs over my hipbones, his eyebrows furrowed, like he was trying to figure out the material of my underwear. He stroked the tips of his fingers into the waistband, then tugged a little.

“Can I?” he asked, meeting my gaze.

I seemed to have lost my voice. I nodded quickly. My right hand landed on his shoulder for balance as he began to slide my panties down my hips, my thighs, and finally, my legs. I let my weight rest on him as I lifted one foot, then the other, then my best friend had my underwear in his grip.

“Goddamn.” He groaned, staring hungrily at the lace. Pale pink and frilly, with a damp spot darkening almost the entire rectangle of cotton at the seat. I blushed, even as Uzezi repeated, “Goddamn,” when he noticed it, breathing almost as fast as I was.

When he shamelessly brought the underwear to his nose, I made a low-pitched noise, my nails digging into his shoulder.

“Uzezi,” I gasped, scandalised, even as my pussy clenched hard, wetness seeping out of me, trailing down the middle of my thighs.

“What?” He laughed a little, taking another deep inhale. “God-fucking-damn, Ofure.”

Jesus. Was I going to last at this point? It felt like I was going to come the moment he so much as set eyes on my bare pussy for the first time.

I blushed again when he tucked the panties into his jacket pocket, then focused back on me, fisting the skirt of my dress and pushing it up my legs. He hesitated when he reached my thighs, glancing questioningly up at me.

“Can I?”

I nodded. Oh God, I’d never been so wet in my life.

“From now on, I’m going to need your words, Fure, baby.”

I swallowed repeatedly. “Yes, you can, Uzi, baby.”

His eyes flashed. All that deep, warm brown had been nearly swallowed up by his pupil, turning them nearly black. It was so fucking sexy, oh my God.

“Hold this out of the way for me, will you?” he murmured, and I dutifully took the hem of the dress, holding it up against my chest with my left hand. “Jesus,” he whispered when his eyes landed on my mound.

I could imagine what he was staring at. Bare, smooth skin that was slightly plump with fat, shadowed by the curve of my soft, round belly. The lips of my pussy were probably glistening, peeking a little from the tops of my clenched, dimpled thighs.

“You do this for me?” he asked, dropping his right hand from my hip so he could stroke a thumb against the smooth skin. Christ, his voice had never been this deep. My clit was standing at attention, begging for a touch, a kiss—anything.

I squirmed. “I-I may have gotten a little self-conscious,” I admitted with a small, nervous giggle.

He visibly softened. “Why? It’s only me.” His thumb was still stroking distractedly against my soft, smooth skin; it was inches away from where I wanted it, each caress making my pussy clench, growing hotter and wetter.

“I know,” I said, my chest warm. I hadn’t realised I’d still held a minute trace of tension—so small I hadn’t even known it was there. But the moment he said that—it’s only me—all my tension disappeared. This was my best friend, even though, from the moment we’d first kissed, he’d begun to feel like something entirely new.

Like saying the words had also similarly affected him, something changed in Uzezi’s expression, in his dark, hungry gaze. He cupped both my bare ass cheeks in his hands and leaned forward to place a kiss on the smooth, soft exposed flesh at the apex of my thighs, inhaling deeply as he did. “Goddamn, Ofure.”

“Uzezi,” I moaned, squirming. “I want—are you going to—”

“I’m going to give you exactly what you want, Fure, baby,” he growled, gripping the back of my right thigh and lifting until he had my leg thrown over his shoulder, finally baring my pussy to his gaze. “God,” he panted, staring hungrily. “Shit.”

The cool air on my exposed pussy and between my thighs gave me an idea of just how wet I was. He used his left hand to hold my right thigh up, his right going straight between my legs, thumb unerringly finding the swollen, needy bud of my clit.

I cried out, my hips jerking forward. My right hand landed on his head, fisting the thick curls of his afro, my left holding the hem of my dress to my chest for what felt like dear life.

“That the right spot?” he asked huskily, his thumb beginning to stroke, all that wetness heightening the sensation, making my eyes want to roll back into my skull.

My head thunked against the door. I couldn’t speak, my hips rocking into his touch, every inch of me focused on the teasing pressure between my legs. He was stroking slowly, lightly, his thumb moving back and forth across my clit, his caresses unknowingly teasing.

“Does that feel good?” he prodded hoarsely. “You have to tell me exactly what you want, Ofure. Tell me how to please you.”

“Oh my God,” I whimpered, my lower belly clenching up hot and tight. I reminded myself once more that this was my best friend; if I wanted something, all I had to do was ask, and I knew he’d do his best to give it to me. At that, I finally let go of the rest of my inhibitions.