My Best Friend’s Secret
I’ve been best friends with Sarah since my teens and, as she’s hit thirty, I think she’s become even more beautiful: she has her hair cut in a jet-black bob and has a look of Kiera Knightley about her. Apart from her chest, which has a look of Pamela Anderson about it.
It was on her thirtieth birthday that she came to my house, just hours before her party. I gave her a present and a glass of wine, but I could tell there was something on her mind.
“What’s up?” I asked, knowingly.
“It’s my boyfriend, Al,” she said, carefully. “He’s said that, for my thirtieth, I could have any sexual fantasy I wanted.”
“Wow!” I breathed. “What a guy! And what are you going for? Him and another guy?”
“Actually,” Sarah said. “I wanted to ask if you’d join us.” She went red. “I’ve wanted to have sex with you for years.”
I must admit I was shocked, but not offended. In fact, I just stood there with my mouth open and it was at that point that Sarah kissed me. It was like slow-motion; her lips on mine, our tongues entwined and her hands on the back of my neck. We didn’t need to say any more. I’ve never had girl fantasies, but something about his just seemed right.
Quickly, our tops came off and the feeling of her naked breasts crushing against mine made me hot and wet. Still kissing, we walked backwards until we bumped into the kitchen table. Sarah’s hand slid up my skirt and into my panties. Hopping up onto the table, I spread my legs and let Sarah’s fingers work on me, sliding in and out, while I gripped her, kissing and biting at her neck. Before I knew what had hit me, I was climaxing with Sarah’s fingers deep inside me.
“Will you join us?” she asked, licking my ear. You don’t let your best friend down, do you? Not on her birthday.