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My mind replays dirty images of my best friend over and over again, and all I want to do is act them out in real life. Especially the one where I watch her finger herself. That fantasy is all-star spank bank material.
“I went ahead and grabbed the cookies. I know how much you want it,” she teases, holding the plate out for me to see. But my eyes aren’t on the plate extended in front of her. Oh, no. My eyes are captivated by the lush mounds of creamy tits, barely concealed behind a black tank top.
Kill. Me. Now.
Where in the hell did that thing come from? Has she always worn something so revealing, so provocative?
“Are you okay? You’re looking all flush,” she says as she heads towards the living room. I have yet to stand up, because if I did, she’d have a front row view of my soldier standing at attention.
“I’m fine,” I choke out.
I watch as she walks to the TV and turns on the DVD player. She bends over and places the cookies on the coffee table, my dick practically crawling through my jeans. I should look away, and really, I try, but it’s futile. My eyes betray me and watch every move she makes as she heads to the couch and plops down on her end.
“You coming?”
Not yet, but hopefully soon.
“Yep!” I chirp in a high-pitched voice that sounds like the one I had at thirteen. Clearing my throat, I carefully stand up and adjust my body so that she can’t see my front. “I’m just gonna use the head first,” I tell her as I head towards the hallway.
Inside the bathroom, the walls start to close in on me. Glancing at the tub, I picture her naked body with water cascading down her smooth skin. I actually have to bite my lip to keep the moan from slipping out.
I’m trapped inside my best friend’s bathroom with a boner that won’t quit, and there’s only one thing to do. I should be embarrassed about what’s about to transpire in her private space, but I’m not. I can’t be. I’m too wired, too horny, to even give a flying fuck right now.
I practically push down my pants like they’re on fire. My cock is throbbing, pushing against the cotton boxer briefs trying to conceal it. Oh, but there’s no concealing this baby. I’m more excited than a John on two-dollar BJ day. There’s a huge wet spot on the front of my skivvies from pre-cum seeping from my dick. When my underwear are somewhere down around my ankles, I take my cock in my hand and give it a squeeze.
And I groan.
Clamping my mouth shut, I listen for Abby. Did she hear me? Will she realize that I’m in here cleaning the pipes just so I can sit out on the couch with her without her knowing there’s a third person in the room with us: namely, my dick.
Hearing no movement, I start to stroke. Oh, this is going to be embarrassingly quick, but I don’t care. My balls are already aching and probably bluer than Papa Smurf. I start to move my hand in long, quick strokes, pleasure coursing down my spine. I close my eyes and try to picture anything but the one person I shouldn’t. But there she is, in bright Technicolor.
Abby.
I picture her hand in place of mine, her mouth and tongue licking the wetness off the tip. God, I’m such a fucker and shitty friend, but I can’t stop. I want her to be on her knees in front of me, her eyes looking up at me, vulnerable and trusting. I want her hand to slide up and down my rock-hard erection. I want her soft fingers to stroke my balls. And above all, I want her tongue on me when she discovers just how fucking amazing a dick piercing can be.
Before I can stop it, my orgasm barrels down on me. My balls tighten as lust tickles the base of my spine. I fire off more cum than would probably be considered normal, but I don’t care. My legs practically give out, my body sagging against the sink. Wave after wave of pleasure rips through me until I’m left spent and content.
Finally opening my eyes, I realize that in my rush to come, I didn’t exactly have a plan for the mess. And since I’m pretty much considering this to be the most embarrassing day of my entire life, I blink my eyes to find white beads of jizz all over her soft pink robe hanging from the hook on the wall in front of me.
Just fucking great.
I rush to pull up my pants, balling up my boxer briefs in the meantime, which makes it pretty much the most uncomfortable thing going on in my pants right now. Grabbing a handful of Kleenex, I try to clean up the mess as much as possible. Have you ever gotten cum on your clothes? Yeah, it pretty much leaves a white, hardened residue behind which basically just screams spoodge.
Before I can toss the Kleenex in the wastepaper basket, a soft knock sounds on the door. “Levi, are you okay?”
Fuck a duck. No! No, I am definitely not okay!
“Yep, fine. I’ll be out in just a sec,” I tell her. She doesn’t say anymore, to which I am most eternally grateful for, and heads back into the living room.
I try to right my boxers and my jeans, clean up the result of my jack session, and head back out into the living room to face the firing squad.
“Are you sure you’re feeling all right? You’re all flushed and your ears are bright red.” Her concern would be welcome and comforting if I didn’t feel so guilty about jacking all over her robe.
“It must have been something I ate,” I tell her, gingerly sitting down on the couch. I’d rather her think I’ve been shitting my brains out than what I was actually doing in the bathroom.
“Come here,” she says softly, setting a pillow in her lap. Of course, my dick takes note of her innocent little phrase.
I should definitely head home and end this mass of embarrassment right now, but I’m too weak. When it comes to Abby, I’m all puppies and roses and sunshine. So instead of running for the door, claiming I have food poisoning, I opt for door number two and lie my head down on the pillow in her lap.
Welcome to my own brand of heaven and hell.
