After a loveless, childless marriage, which thankfully lasted only a few years, I divorced Dan, a worthless, cheating bastard and got on with my life. I had difficulty believing I was now an emancipated woman! I was young, goddammit, and still in my twenties, but not for much longer.

Dan-O had done such a number on me that for years I was allergic to serious relationships but, admittedly, I had, and still have, a very strong libido. Celibacy was not an option. Finding a man, or at least a life support system for a healthy cock to satisfy my needs, wasn’t difficult, but the ecstasy didn’t last long. After John or Robert or Michael or…what was his name, again?...took care of business, he’d be off and I’d find myself back at the Billiard Parlor, a local hangout for singles looking to meet up, trolling for fresh meat.

One particular Saturday night, which was also the day after my thirty-third birthday, I sat in my usual spot, a small, round table in a dark corner of the bar, sipping a drink with Nancy, my best friend, trying to stay sober enough to converse with any comers who approached our table. Such was our weekend habit for longer than I care to remember. Maybe it was because I was a year older than the last time I sat at that very same table, but that particular night was a little more depressing than usual.

“Over there.” Nancy almost pointed at a prospect, but refrained. “He looks pretty good.” She and I shared an office downtown at the Larson Insurance Agency as stenographers. We also shared the same personal situation, meaning we were both divorced, but still young-ish and needing attention. We met on the job and, after a few lunches, discovered how much we had in common, becoming fast friends.

“He’s new, isn’t he?” I squinted, trying to make out the tall figure on the other side of the dimly-lit room. Yes, I was nearsighted and wore glasses, but never at the Billiard Parlor, or “BP,” as we regulars called it. The drink was stronger than I expected, made by a pale, skinny bartender with bottle-black hair who’d sampled me a few times in the past and was perhaps ready for more. Although he was barely second-string, I made a mental note regarding his availability. Mostly, I wanted to put my head on the table and close my eyes.

“He’s been here before.” Her eyes remaining on him, my plump, brunette girlfriend sipped her umbrellaed drink. “I’m surprised you haven’t noticed. He’s kinda cute.”

“Honey.” I gazed past heavy eyelids to look at her profile. By now, I was slurring my words, “They’re all getting to be the same.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Nancy finished her drink and was now futzing with the little umbrella, vacantly staring at the tiny accessory as she slowly opened and closed it, her mind wandering. “Sad that there’s nothing new under the sun.”

I noticed her shiny, red-painted fingernails as she stroked the umbrella’s handle up and down. In my polluted state of mind, it looked like she was jerking it off, just like a slender, little penis. She gazed at me with her dark, doe-like eyes.

“Don’t you hate it when you can remember their cocks, but not their faces?”

I merely chuckled, downing the rest of my drink in a single gulp, then scanned the smoky room, filled with the aural churn of a hundred or so voices of both sexes, all seeking companionship, if only for the night. Both ragged billiard tables were occupied by gents trying to show off their social and sporting skills, or lack of them. The clack of balls connecting was followed by the high-pitched twittering of a woman pretending to be impressed.

I gripped the table’s edge as my surroundings shifted a bit. Oh, yeah, now I had a full buzz going! There was no way I could stay awake until the bartender got off at 2:30. Disgusted, I pushed away from the table, chair squeaking.

“Let’s blow this fucking joint.”

“You said it, sister.” A familiar exchange that was becoming more and more common as weekend blurred into weekend. Nancy and I held each other steady as we staggered out to her blue Chevy Nova. We took turns driving each weekend and it was her turn.

I leaned against the passenger-side door, forehead resting on the cool metal roof, as she circled around to the driver’s side. She pulled a wad of jangly keys from her purse. I listened as metal clinked against metal as she looked at each one closely in the low light for much too long.

“Too many goddamn keys for a single woman,” I murmured to the gravel.

“Hush, now.” She inserted a small, silver key into the round lock, twisting it. Pulling the door open, she slid into the driver’s seat. I got a nice glimpse of her ample breasts as her thumb and forefinger pulled up on the silver plastic shaft allowing me entry, forcing a drunken smile.

Creamy goodness.

Nancy pulled me onto the firm bench seat, buckling my seat belt with a loud click. She buckled herself, turning the ignition.

“I’m sorry.” My face pressed against the door glass as we left the dim, multicolored fluorescent glow of the BP parking lot, the subdued roar of the car’s V8 rising and falling as she shifted through the gears. “I’m sorry, again, that nothing materialized.” She glanced at me before returning to watching the road.

“Why are you talking like it’s your fault? That’s ridiculous!” Driving home from the BP, she always took great care to keep to the posted speed limit, especially at that time of night when there were many bored cops just itching to write someone a ticket. Although she was the designated driver that evening, Nancy probably wasn’t much more sober than me. “Sister, there was nothing in that room that appealed to me, and no amount of alcohol was going to create a Prince Charming out of that funky bunch. I’m glad we left when we did.”

Her answer didn’t surprise me, and it was no shocker that the BP had been a bust that evening, as it had been for many in recent months. The clientele was changing, and not for the better. She pulled up to the red traffic light on Evans Avenue. A right turn would’ve taken me home. A left turn would go to Nancy’s. It was then that our thoughts coordinated. We had become very good at reading each other’s minds. I mouthed her words a split-second before she said them.

“Stay over?”

She knew the answer.

I nodded, eyes closed.

The traffic light changed. Bathed in the green glow, she turned left, and we proceeded down Evans Avenue. Within ten minutes, Nancy made a right onto York Street, entering an older, working-class neighborhood where she lived alone in a small, tidy home. I felt the car turn onto her driveway, the electric garage door whirring, acoustics changing as she pulled inside.

“Come on, girlfriend.” She pulled me from the car, and we managed to make our way into her kitchen. I leaned against the harvest gold refrigerator as she filled two tall plastic tumblers with tap water.

“You know the drill.” She handed me one, keeping the other for herself.

With loud gulps, we both emptied our respective tumblers. She filled them again and we finished those, too, trying to minimize the morning’s hangover.

“Meet you in the bedroom.” Nancy patted me on the butt as she refilled our tumblers for later, being more of a mother at that moment than a girlfriend or sister. Having her touch me down there, however casual it was, made my nether regions flush with warmth, forcing another inebriated grin as I made an uncertain path down the hallway.

I slipped out of my flowered dress, something cute and simple I found on sale at Newberry’s a few weeks ago, trying, in my uncertain state, not to wrinkle it. What kept it from being too demure was the neckline, not plunging, but on my frame, it managed to reveal a few extra inches of cleavage, more than I would ever expose at the office or a proper social gathering. However, this was worn for BP and BP alone, so I didn’t mind showing off a bit more tit than usual. Gotta give the prospective client a little sample, eh?

The dress was placed on a metal hanger and tucked into Nancy’s bedroom closet leaving me in my matching lavender bra and panties. I drunkenly eyed myself in her floor-length mirror as the lacy bra slipped down my arms to reveal a nice pair of breasts, not large, but not small, either. I liked them, and every man I bedded did, too. Sheer panties slipped down my legs to be kicked off, revealing a soft, springy bush I kept trimmed, something for me to pet when I masturbated, which was often, or for some nameless lover to nuzzle before he got to my sweet spot.

Nancy had a habit of sleeping in the raw, so I followed suit, something relatively new for me, joining her in bed as we pulled the bedclothes up around our breasts, leaving our arms free. I watched her ample bounty shift to the side as she reached over to switch off the lamp on the nightstand, admiring her thick, erect nipples surrounded by large areolas.

“God, I’m exhausted,” she exhaled. On our backs, we lay only inches apart as I sensed the closeness of her body, our eyes adjusting to the dark room.

“That makes two of us,” I replied, examining the spots swimming before my eyes. Within a few minutes, I could see enough to make out her face and breasts. The thin, white drapes glowed with silver-blue moonlight. She slid over, closing the gap between our bodies. Her hot skin pressed against mine, and it felt nice.

This wasn’t anything new or unusual. As I mentioned, Nancy and I had been friends for several years, going through many good and bad times together, our lives sharing a similar path. Physical closeness, at least in my mind, came with the territory. We shared the usual secrets that girlfriends do. We thought nothing of relating to each other episodes from the long list of anonymous lovers who had made their way between our legs, the good, the bad, and the totally fucking weird.

Workload permitting, we’d take a long lunch once per week, and there was this little divey café where we could park ourselves in a tiny booth near the kitchen and speak freely. Few people, if any, heard us, with the exception of the waitresses, which we kept entertained.

“This particular very proper gentleman,” Nancy arched her eyebrows mockingly, “wouldn’t get naked until the lights were off.”

“Oh, please,” I’d groan. We’d finished our salads and delicious little pork chop sandwiches and were now sipping coffee, wishing it was bourbon. “I’ve had so many of those, I lost count. ‘Princes of Darkness’ I call them. God forbid they be seen in the light with all their shortcomings.”

“Isn’t that the truth? Well, this ‘Prince’ tripped over a chair finding his way to my bed!”

“Oh, sweet fucking Jesus!”

“Took a while to get the mood back, know what I mean? Even then, I understand why he wanted it dark. After a bunch of awkward positioning and grunting, goddamn, I almost had to ask if it was in. I mean really!”

I nodded, laughing into my hand, casting my eyes up to the well-worn, sixty-something waitress refilling my cup. When done, she stepped back, but not out of earshot. I decided to give her a treat.

“Of course, on the other end of the spectrum,” my voice dropped a bit, remembering fondly one particular stud who should’ve been given a prize for his performance, “there’s one I called ‘The Piledriver.’”

It was the way I said it. Nancy fell silent, chewing on her lower lip, giving me those dark, deep eyes of hers. She knew exactly of what I spoke. I could feel the presence of the waitress behind me. It was the way her body absorbed sound, altering the surrounding acoustics. Knowing my audience was ready, I continued.

“Sonofabitch.” I stared into the distance. “That big thing, as hard as it was, still drooped between his thighs from sheer gravity.”

“My god, did you measure it?” My girlfriend whispered, and she wasn’t kidding. Nancy literally had a tape measure in her nightstand just for that purpose. She would record in her diary the length and circumference of every man who would allow her to, complete with other details such as whether he was circumcised, had a mole, some deformity, or anything like that.

“Some guys would’ve insisted, but this one…” I paused for effect. “I swear… this one…didn’t know, or care, what he had.”

“Oh, my.”

“That’s exactly it! No ‘big dick’ remarks, no posing, no pet names for his cock, at least none he would share with me.” I had to stop for a moment. Taking myself back, I realized how long ago that night had occurred and how I desperately needed some loving like that again. “It was just the desire to give me pleasure,” I swallowed, “and to be with me, if only for that night.”

Describing the scene, I couldn’t help but feel sweet Piledriver inside me again, but it was more than that. It was his handsome face, his smell, and his solid embrace that all factored into an experience that rose above the rest.

And the oral sex.

“Did I mention he was a fucking god at cunnilingus?”

Nancy shook her head.

“Before he pushed that magnificent thing into me, he made sure I was good and ready.” I reached out and squeezed Nancy’s arm, leaning in toward her face, but still speaking loudly enough for the waitress to hear. “He burrowed his way in, licking and sucking just like he was eating a juicy peach. I was literally dribbling down his chin! He took the longest time, teasing my clit until I begged for more. God, he made my pussy sing!”

My face was mere inches from my friend’s. She wasn’t blinking.

“God, he lapped at me like a dog getting peanut butter out of the bottom of a jar.” I snorted, amused by my apt simile, and another one involving food. Piledriver certainly ate me out like I was his personal buffet. “His stubble was rubbing against the insides of my thighs, and I wondered how he could breathe. Finally, just as I was about to go out of my mind, he reached up to massage my tits. That pushed me over the edge.”

Nancy let out a little gasp, swallowing. I maintained my grip on her arm, fingers digging into flesh.

“Next thing I knew, he was on his knees. I had to guide that thing inside with both hands! We took it slow and steady, just the tip at first, then I felt him stretching me to the limit.”

I could hear the waitress breathing behind me. My true life story was having the desired effect.

“I don’t know how long it took, but he finally got all the way in.” I paused again to sip from the ancient, coffee-stained white ceramic mug, licking my red-painted lips as I looked back up into her eyes. “He kept asking me if it was okay. No doubt, he must’ve hurt some other women with that appendage, so I finally said ‘yes, dammit, please fuck me!’”

“Goddamn!” Her face glowed rosy pink.

“He just started this rhythmic thrusting, that massive shaft plunging into me, hard and steady, over and over, just like a pile driver ramming it home. His balls kept colliding with my ass and…” I glanced up at the big plate glass window over Nancy’s shoulder and saw the waitress’s reflection. She had moved closer, almost leaning over so as not to miss a word. “… they felt huge, no doubt swollen with cum, and he was ready to deliver!”

I stopped speaking and released my friend’s arm, sitting back in the chair. I took another draw from the mug, and slowly. Nancy blinked. The silence took on a life of its own as I counted the seconds. I could be such a mischief-maker. Finally, she spoke up.

“Well?”

“Four times,” I smiled. “Four. Fucking. Times. He stayed with me all night.”

“Sonofabitch!” Now it was Nancy licking her lips.

“Jesus, the sheer amount of ejaculate I took from that firehose of his.” I put the mug down, gazing at my napkin as I folded it into a neat square. “You know I keep a lot of rubbers on hand, just because, but Piledriver was so big, none of them would’ve fit. It was a risk, but I just couldn’t help myself. The next morning, I staggered to the bathroom with gobs of cum running down the insides of my thighs. What a gooey, sticky mess!”

The waitress gulped audibly. Apparently, she wasn’t a Fundamentalist or had any moral hang-ups, or we would’ve found out. Nancy was almost sweating. Her upper lip glowed with a sheen of perspiration. “Whatever happened to him?”

“He hopped into his El Camino and disappeared into the dawn, never to return.” I shrugged, placing the napkin next to my plate. “Perhaps it was for the best. It sure as hell created an indelible memory.”

What a way with words I have! I thought to myself. I should write a romance novel, or one of those pornographic paperbacks.

Nancy took my hand, squeezing it. “God, I long for something like that.”

I leaned over the table, kissing my friend’s forehead as she looked up at me again, the dark abyss in her eyes, her face only an inch from mine. “Baby, I hope you find it, and soon,” I whispered, kissing her hand affectionately, perhaps with a bit more passion than a friend would, but it was for a purpose. I had more mischief in mind.

Smirking, I looked into Nancy's eyes again, tilting my head a bit. I cast my eyes to the side a couple of times, indicating the waitress behind us. Nancy, of course, read my mind. If my erotic story was the cake, then we naughty girls would spread icing all over it.

“I love you.” Nancy said. She wasn’t lying, but she also knew how the waitress behind us would interpret it.

“I love you, too, girlfriend.” Also the truth. Another kiss, this time on the mouth. A gasp escaped somewhere above and behind us, filling me with a sense of accomplishment.

“Let’s go home.” Looking like a little girl wanting to play, Nancy pushed her arms together, squeezing her breasts slightly, knowing it would double the amount of cleavage she was showing, a simple trick she used at the BP with great success.

I nodded. The waitress was practically grunting with arousal, and I swear I could feel the heat from her body as a feral concoction of musk comingled with stale food odor and sweat entered my nostrils. A voice called from the other side of the café.

“Hazel, will you get back to work? Come on, now!”

Silently, the woman slipped the check onto our table and scurried away.

“I have this.” I unsnapped my coin purse, fishing out a couple of dollar bills.

The little bell on the café’s front door jingled as we walked out into the overcast day, cool air greeting our faces as noise from the city street filled our ears.

“My god, we’re sooo bad,” Nancy giggled, her arm around my waist as we ambled down the sidewalk.

“Ah, she’ll probably masturbate on her coffee break.” I tilted my head to touch hers, both of us looking down at the ancient concrete of old downtown Delphos. “Rub out a few orgasms, lick her fingers, then it’s back to serving food with no one the wiser.”

“Ohhh, wow!” Nancy’s eyes bugged out, eyebrows rising as she processed the mental image. “That poor old bag needs something, no doubt. Cock. Pussy. Maybe both.”

“Honey, don’t laugh.” My voice lowered. “We need to be careful, or that will be us in twenty years.”

“Yeah, I know.” She pulled me tighter against her body, sobering up from the giddiness. I returned the embrace and we walked as one. “God help me, I know it all too well.”

Although I was having fun with that unfortunate waitress, playing naughty games with Nancy, there was no denying that the story-play left me aroused and needy. With the solid warmth and pressure of my best friend by my side as we slowly returned to the office on that otherwise unexceptional day, my thoughts wandered to questions left unanswered.

Back in Nancy’s bedroom, again with our bodies pressed snugly together, both of us ensconced in a cocoon of soft, scented blankets, I sensed her unrest. I could always tell when Nancy was horny. Out in public, at work, the diner, or the BP, especially when she spotted some hulking stud in tight jeans leaning over the pool table, she’d squirm and fidget, biting her nails to the point I had to tell her to stop.

“They’re down to the quick as it is, honey…ENOUGH!”

She’d just look at me with those dark, smoldering eyes. A good slap on the ass, and she would’ve come on the spot.

Now in bed, her legs wouldn’t stay still, and her left foot? Jesus, she’d keep me awake all night with that constant movement! One good orgasm would’ve straightened her out and we’d both be able to sleep. It didn’t help that I was horny, too, and needed a searing climax to put me in la-la land. Having her warm, supple, naked body up against mine and unable to keep still made everything even more torturous.

Goddamn it! I fought to keep from touching my throbbing pussy.

“We should have stayed at the BP longer,” I whispered.

“Why?” She asked, innocently.

“Oh, come on, Nancy.”

“I can’t help it.”

“I know, I know.” I slid my arm around her shoulder as her head rested against my breasts. “What the fuck is wrong with us?”

She giggled. “Slutty girls, we are.”

“Oh, it’s easy to buy into that Puritanical shit,” I snorted. “No, we just have healthy libidos.” Her hair smelled like cigarette smoke and I wished we would have showered, but both of us were way too drunk and tired. “If we were men, nobody would say a word. We’d just be dogs on the prowl.”

“But we aren’t.”

“Yes, love.” I realized my hand was cupping her breast. I could feel an erect nipple poking against my palm.

Several minutes passed with no ebb in Nancy’s twitching and jerking. The booze was wearing off and she was driving me to the point of madness. With great hesitance, I spoke.

“Why don’t we…?”

Nancy remained silent for a few seconds before responding. I had breached a topic we never spoke of outside the bedroom.

“You mean?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh, Peach, I…”

She always called me by that nickname in our most tender moments of friendship. My ass, in younger days, bore resemblance to a particular ripe, juicy fruit, complete with fuzz.

“Oh, come on.” I admonished her. “That doesn’t make us sapphic. And what does it matter, anyway? It’s just between us, and it damn well isn’t the first time.”

She didn’t resist as I slid a hand under the blankets, caressing the smooth skin under her breasts, then going lower, past her navel, until my fingertips brushed across the top of her ample bush.

“You need to come, or we’ll be up all night.”

Nodding, she rolled on her back, spreading her thighs slightly. She remained quiet, allowing my index finger to slide up and down her furry wetness.

“That’s it, my love,” I whispered, smiling in the near-darkness. By then, arousal had overcome annoyance as I took liberty with her sweet body.

Nancy gasped as I breached her labia, moving my fingertip in a slow, circular motion around her clit. She drew her knees up a little, quivering as I slipped inside. I kissed her forehead as she whimpered, gently writhing as my fingers curled over and over inside her silky, smooth orifice, starting slowly, languidly massaging the spongy mass behind her clit. I loved the sensation of her snug grip around my fingers as I pleasured my best friend.

“Oh, fuck, Peach…yes, that’s it…mmmm.” All apprehension fell away as she surrendered to my touch.

About goddamn time you relaxed, honey.

My movement increased in speed and, next thing I knew, Nancy’s hand found my burning bush and soon we were masturbating each other. Pants and moans stirred the silence as our hands blurred away under the blankets. My god, it was heaven!

“Oh, honey, yes!” I sighed. “That’s what we both need.”

“Uh-huhhh…” She knew what I liked as she frigged away inside my gushing-wet pussy. Delicious sensations built within my body and it was hard to concentrate on keeping a steady rhythm. Nancy was the first to come.

“My god…YES!!!” Her body went taut, pressing against my hand, her full, round hips gyrating as the orgasm overtook her. Still, her hand remained cupped around my downy mons pubis.

“That’s it, sweetheart, YESSS!!!” I hissed as she continued stoking my flames hotter and hotter. Goddamn, watching her was such a turn-on! “Let it come…let it come!”

She yelped, at last releasing my pussy to grip the bedclothes as wave after wave of pleasure surged through her body. Grunting and huffing, she pushed my hand away, kicking the blankets back to reveal our nude bodies. I watched her convulse repeatedly as gentle, grey light accentuated her lovely, hard-nippled bodyscape.

Oh, so fucking good. Without thinking, I smeared her wetness under my nose, savoring the heady musk, tasting it.

In time, she stilled, relaxing, her plush body going limp like a rag doll, a wide grin of release and supreme satisfaction on her face. I couldn’t help but marvel at how attractive she was in that moment, serene and peaceful.

Beautiful.

“Come here, sweet girl.” I pulled her back against my body, her head once again resting on my aching breasts. After an eternity, she sighed.

“Goddamn.” 

“Better, now?”

She nodded. “But…”

I was somewhat surprised when Nancy suddenly turned to face me. The next moment, her slender fingers slipped deep, my tit in her mouth.

Oh, honey, YES!

“Ahhh,” I exhaled, gently grasping the back of her head as electricity sparked in my nipple, traveling straight down to my throbbing clit. I kissed and nuzzled her hair as she frigged away, her hungry mouth devouring me as wet, staccato slapping noises filled the room. Again, she found the right spot, fingers moving in perfect rhythm to elicit maximum pleasure. My hips couldn’t help but move against her touch as I gazed vacantly at the popcorn ceiling of her bedroom, lips parted, lost in pleasure.

“Mmmm…god, yes, my love!” My eyes squeezed shut.

 I love when she sucks my tits!

Pressure welled up within my body. “Suck harder…yes…that’s it, that’s it…YES!!!”

Nancy moaned as I felt her teeth gently rake over my hard, stinging bud. Of course, it didn’t take much longer. The orgasm hit without mercy.

“Son of a fucking bitch, honey!” I growled, reaching back to grasp the headboard as my hips bucked. Unlike her, I wanted Nancy’s fingers to remain inside as unspeakable ecstasy dominated my body. For what seemed like forever, I moved against her hand, baring my clenched teeth, pummeled by one earth-shattering climax after another. Throughout all of this, she stayed with me.

“Fuck…FUCK!!!” This release topped the others I’d had with her, and I was loving it!

Holy fucking shit! THIS is how it’s done!

Fluid spritzed across the bedclothes as delicious pleasure washed over me again and again, cleansing my body and soul of any physical need. Her mouth still filled with tit, Nancy let loose with a low, guttural groan of approval. She stopped frigging me, but let her fingers remain inside as she watched my face intently. My wet-tipped breast fell from her mouth as her lips curled up with a devilish grin. Yes, she always started out shy, but once I got her going…CHRIST ALMIGHTY!!!

Once the last spasm receded, she moved up next to me. I took her hand, putting her wet fingers in my mouth.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she whispered, once again demure as she gazed up at my lips. I felt her breath against my face as I tasted familiar juices. “What have we done?” Her fingers slipped from my mouth with a pop. I tried not to snort at her faux-innocent inquiry.

“Nothing but take care of each other, as best friends do.” I licked my lips, leaning over to give her a lingering kiss, which she returned. “I keep telling you…” I looked into her eyes. “…you need to stop overthinking it.”

She nodded, giving me another kiss before retrieving the blankets.

“Woof!” Nancy, once again, slid under the covers with me. “That hit the spot!”

“And rubbed it out!” I added. We laughed. Humor always dissipated uncertain feelings afterward. With both of us relieved of our burden, we fell into the abyss. 

Neither one of us stirred until the sun climbed above the tall oaks. A dense sliver of light pierced the drapes, striking my face. Never mind, I was nearly awake anyway. As I listened to birds chirping outside, Nancy’s soft, nude body pressed against me. Her steady breaths wafted across my neck, her full breasts rising and falling repeatedly, filling me with an overwhelming sense of peace.

Although I needed to pee something awful, I remained still, pondering the morning after. As I said, this wasn’t the first time. I counted how many mornings we had awoken in this same situation, but didn’t get beyond the fingers on my right hand. Still, during these few encounters, we had developed a feel for each other’s bodies, both figuratively and literally. It didn’t take much for either one of us to elicit pleasure and quickly orgasm, although the first time was definitely challenging.

I remember it was another night of disappointing interactions at the BP, and we had slipped into her bed. She was nude, as always, but at that time I left my panties on. I wasn’t a prude, but that was how I normally slept.

That night was rough, with Nancy fidgeting in her sleep, never allowing me to drift off for more than an hour or so. Erotic dreams plagued me and I could feel myself squirming incessantly along with my best friend. I didn’t mind when visions of her lovely, dark-eyed face and voluptuous body crept into my dreamscape. It wasn’t real, so who would it hurt?

While I savored the transitory images drifting through my brain, I felt naked skin against mine, rubbing and pressing, and the touch of someone unknown. Was it Nancy? This was certainly a dream, so the furtive fondling wasn’t a cause for concern. We were intimate friends and confidantes, so it just seemed natural. Otherwise I would have reacted immediately.

There are no boundaries in the playground of the mind. Go with it, girl.

Next thing I knew, a wet mouth latched onto my breast, fingers slipping inside my panties, entering my body. It happened so quickly, I didn’t have time to react, if that were possible. God, it felt so good, I’d be a fool to resist! Whoever it was knew how to touch a woman. Nancy was only inches away, but surely I could come in my sleep without disturbing her. It would do me nothing but good.

I knew I was moaning as the stranger’s manipulations became more and more aggressive. Pleasure surged through my body as I whispered, “Yes…yes…don’t stop…please let me come.” I thought about Piledriver, and that memorable night, how I still longed for his return.

Oh, yes, my love. I know it’s not you, my well-hung rogue, but whatever’s happening now is so delicious!

I felt an orgasm approaching. What a fucking vivid dream I was having! Then it happened. My eyes blinked open, and I looked down at Nancy. To my surprise, the blankets had been pushed aside and I was nursing my best friend, her fingers buried deep in my dark, thick bush!

Holy fuck!

My panties dangled from one of my ankles, a knee drawn up slightly to allow her manipulations. Instead of crying out, I held still, letting it happen. Like stopping one’s self mid-sneeze, interrupting completion of this totally natural, loving act would be madness.

Goddamn it! Let it happen and deal with the aftermath later. So fucking good!

No words were spoken, but I couldn’t help but yelp repeatedly as I climaxed, waves of sanguine pleasure wracking my body as I held her head against my breast. The closeness of her body in this very sexual act unexpectedly overwhelmed me with sheer joy. A few drops of fluid spritzed up on my lips, and I licked them, savoring the odor and taste of my vaginal secretions. I couldn’t help but continue to moan. I didn’t want Nancy to stop.

“Ohhh, fuck.” I finally whispered as my body stilled. “God, so good, honey. Oh, my god!” My first inclination was to return the favor, but my mind had returned to normal and, compounded with her behavior after the orgasm, I quickly discarded the thought.

She remained silent and inscrutable, turning away, her back to me as she pulled the blanket to her chin. I almost spoke, but refrained, unsure in the aftermath. I pulled my panties up, glancing over to the back of her head. Her body language conveyed someone who no longer wanted to interact. In time, she started to snore and, within the hour, I joined her in sleep, only this time, I didn’t dream.   

The next morning, I awoke to the muffled sound of the shower behind the closed bathroom door. Mid-morning sunshine crept into the room as I rubbed my face gingerly, aware I hadn’t removed my makeup from the previous night. My eyes stung. Sitting up, the bedclothes fell to my waist to reveal my breasts. The mirror across the room reflected a ragged-looking, disheveled woman with smeared makeup and a fright wig of tangled hair. I grimaced.

Fuck me.

With a phlegmy groan, I shook my lowered head as if it would make the specter go away. Thoughts of last night’s incident surged into my brain. Nancy was the shy one. What made her do what she did? Why didn’t I reciprocate in spite of her cold behavior afterward? At least comfort her after such a bold, unexpected move? What would happen next?

Metal rings screeching across the bathroom’s shower rod snapped me out of my fog as Nancy entered the bedroom. Barefoot, she was draped in a cotton bathrobe that stopped at her knees, her hair wrapped in a thick, blue towel. Finally, she glanced at me.

“Morning.” Her voice was flat and plain.

“Morning, honey.” Making an attempt at warmth, I smiled. She didn’t, but seated herself at the vanity, again, with her back to me.

To say the energy in the room was deeply weird would be an understatement. Without another word, I retreated into the shower, hoping it would give me time to plan what I was going to say and do next. As I washed my pussy, I remembered how good Nancy’s fingers felt inside, and how her touch so easily pleasured, then satisfied me. Those thoughts, plus the unusual sensitivity of my breasts and nipples in the warm, somewhat sharp spray from the shower head, got me all wet and horny, but I refrained from masturbating. Now was not the time.

Cool air wafted over my face as I exited the steamy bathroom, wearing a robe identical to hers. (We had bought them together on one of our weekend shopping excursions), but my hair hung loose and wet, a towel in my hand. I thought I saw Nancy glance up for a split-second, her eyes calm, almost cold, in the vanity mirror. Her towel had been tossed aside as she brushed her hair. This was so unlike her, and something had to be said. She managed to look at me as I moved behind her.

“Hey there, sunshine.” I tried a little levity, not knowing what else to say.

“Hey.” She kept on brushing her hair without another word. Now I was getting annoyed.

“How’s my best friend doing this morning?” No longer did I smile.

She remained silent, the brush stroking through her hair ever faster, almost tearing away at it.   

Goddamn it!

“Thanks for the nice orgasm.” I reached out to squeeze her shoulder, and that’s when Nancy freaked.

“Don’t touch me!” The hairbrush clattered against the glass vanity top, then to the carpet. “Don’t fucking touch me!” Gripping the tops of her thighs, she looked down at the floor, taking several deep breaths. That’s when I noticed her entire body shaking. The shock of her outburst startled me, so I tried a different approach.

If that’s the way you want to play this out, honey…

“Fine, then.” I sneered. “Suit yourself.”

I returned to the bathroom, looking in the mirror as I brushed out the tangles in my hair. With Nancy having spun up my emotions, I shook as well.

Fucking bullshit.

Of course, my mind raced miles ahead, leaving the moment behind. I couldn’t help but mourn. Something that felt so right and natural, and now it would never happen again. Worse, it may have effectively destroyed a loving friendship. I was planning my escape when the bathroom door hinges let out a gentle squeal. The next moment, Nancy stood behind me. Without a word, she pressed her face against my shoulder, exhaling against the thick, cotton fabric. I paused, trying to remain calm.

“Yes?”

“Please.” Her voice was barely perceptible. She began to sob gently, hands grasping my hips as she rubbed her face back and forth between my shoulder blades. “Please, forgive me. I’m so sorry.”

The next moment, we held each other in a tight embrace, her face buried in my bare cleavage. I inhaled the floral scent of her freshly-washed hair.

“What are you talking about?” I whispered, voice softening as I felt her breath against my skin.

“That was so wrong.” She tried to control her breathing, but failed, choking on another sob. “I…I’m not a lesbian. I like guys! I…” I interrupted her.

“Well, I like guys, too.” I wanted to kiss her, but refrained. I was still a bit angry and shaken. “And I don’t care how you feel about it…what we did…” I lifted her head until we gazed at each other, our faces only a couple of inches apart. “That was nice.”

 Fuck it.

A light peck on her cheek. She didn’t jump this time, allowing me to show affection. Then I kissed her on the lips. Our mouths lingered together for several seconds as she again exhaled. I pulled back.

God, now I’m getting horny again.

“So am I banned from your bed, now?”

Nancy smiled, lowering her head, shaking it.

“No.” She looked up with those damn eyes. “No, Peach.”

I’m not surprised, in spite of our loving touches, we didn’t instantly jump back into bed to recreate the experience. We had gotten over the initial rough spot, but the weirdness remained. We were both crossing into new territory, but I don’t think either one of us knew where the borders lie. Instead, we got dressed, she in some sloppy, comfortable house clothes and me in my attire from the night before. As usual, the odor of stale cigarette smoke and sweat permeated my clothes.

“Yuck.” My nose crinkled as I stared at myself in her full-length mirror. She walked up behind me, sniffing.

“I keep telling you to bring a change of clothes.” She grasped my bare shoulders. Her touch now possessed magic. “Maybe I should send you home with a note pinned to your blouse?”

Smirking, with an eyebrow raised, I was just glad the warmth had returned, and things were back to normal, or at least appeared so. Still, something new and strange lurked in the depths.

“I’ll bring some old rags so we can lounge around like slobs all day.”

“Watch shitty television, or I can break out the Monopoly board.”

“Make sandwiches, swill beer, and revel in our hopeless spinsterhood.”

“That would be nice.” Her calm smile reflected in the mirror, a welcome relief to me and a substantial shift from the anxiety only minutes ago. Nancy’s hands slid down to my waist and she patted my butt. I turned, again, our faces almost touching. My fingers toyed with the soft, wash-worn cotton fabric of her top. I whispered against her face in a voice low, but firm.

“Never allow yourself to get upset like that again, love, not because of me.” The sudden urge to rain kisses on her face, neck, and shoulders was quelled. My pussy throbbed, much to my frustration, hands trembling as I squeezed her full hips. God, she felt so good. “We both know who we are.” I took a deep breath, averting my eyes in an attempt to find the right words. My eyes rose to meet hers. “And if there’s something else, so be it. What harm is being done?” Nancy bit her lower lip, nodding. Sweet heavens above, she was so sexy when she did that.

Oh lord, I want to make love to her so badly right now, but something’s telling me not to.

We had coffee and toast, not saying much, but mutual glances were plenty. She’d smile. I’d smile. Usually, we would prattle away about the BP crowd, potential conquests, the office, or whatever ephemera crossed our minds, but the vibe was undoubtedly different. That thing I mentioned previously was still lurking in the depths, and I wondered what would happen when it rose to the surface.

My pussy, no surprise, was wet and ready, and I couldn’t stop rubbing the insides of my thighs, a tale-tell sign I was ready for action. I slowly licked strawberry jam from my fingers, making sure I held her gaze as I did so. Old dog, old tricks. I couldn’t help myself, but this time it wasn’t for a man.

Kind of weird, but interesting.

Much to my chagrin, bizarre, alien emotions filled my heart and mind. I couldn’t stop rubbing my thighs, thinking of us in various sexual positions, as she drove me home. Perhaps it was my frustrated desire, and the thought that I needed to hold back, saving it for another time. Thankfully, she broke the heavy silence.

“What about next weekend?” Her eyes remained on the road. Her simple, seemingly innocent question took me by surprise. I hesitated for a moment.

Jesus, please try not to act like a freak.

I grinned, turning to look at her profile, fighting to sound normal. “What about it?”

“Oh, you know, smartass!” She smacked my knee. I gasped, surprised at my body’s response. Jesus, my crotch was a fondue pot and I prayed I wouldn’t leave a wet spot on the seat.

“You okay?” Now it was she, looking at me like I was crazy, asking.

Silently, I nodded, fighting for control, my pussy roiling. I still had trouble believing it was Nancy who was eliciting this desire in me. Yes, lacking a dependable supply of cock factored into the situation, but I knew it was much more than that. There were so many reasons she was my intimate friend and confidante. At that moment, as she turned from Evans Avenue onto Sparrow Way, where I lived, I set myself to exploring this new dimension of our relationship, and god have mercy on my poor heart, mind, and soul.

“See you Monday, then?” she asked, all coy, and again with those eyes!

“Mm Hm.” I swallowed, a lump in my throat from arousal. A few agonizing seconds passed as we stared at each other.

Fucking DO something and get out of her car!

I lunged at her face, pressing our mouths together. She whimpered softly as we kissed, my fingertips caressing her soft cheek. It was only for a brief moment before I forced myself to pull back. In a daze, I heard the car door slam as I made quick strides up the front walk onto my front porch.

The moment the front door closed behind me, I discarded all of my clothes, leaving a trail to the bedroom, where I splayed out on the bed. Massaging one of my breasts relentlessly and tugging at my left nipple, I frigged myself through a series of loud, sloppy orgasms, finally coming to rest as the last spasms of frantic pleasure wracked my body.

“Oh, god, Nancy,” I wailed to the ceiling in tears. My emotions, already way off-kilter, had been slow to catch up, but now they returned in full force. “God, honey…my good girl, my good, fucking girl!”

So long ago was that encounter, according to my heart, but not much on the calendar. Thinking back on that time, I was amazed I made it through, but here we were, in the now, waking up in bed together, again, after a night of futility at the BP. Counting the times we’d been blatantly sexual, I had just used up all the fingers on my right hand. I giggled.

Nancy was still asleep and I, as my body again dictated out of habit, needed to pee. My wimpy bladder insisted I disturb this loving tableau, and goddamn that bright, pure sunlight! I squinted, moving my head to avoid the intruder. That was all it took to derail my best friend’s breathing. She huffed, taking in several deep breaths, groaning. Turning away from me, she coughed a bit, taking more gulps of air as her level of consciousness rose to wakefulness.

“Oh, my,” she muttered hoarsely. “Mmmm…” She stretched her body under the bedclothes like a languid house cat waking from a deep slumber, her arms rising in the air as I watched my lover come to life.

“Good morning, honey,” I whispered, rubbing her bare shoulder.

“Goddamn, what a hard sleep that was!” She said, turning to wince in the sunlight. Raising her hand, she blocked the errant ray from hitting her face. “What time is it?”

I looked at the white, plastic Westclox on the nightstand. “Ten-thirty.”

“Mmmm…” again, with her deep, somewhat sexy guttural noise as she returned to pressing against my body. “I slept like the dead. How ‘bout you?”

“Uh-huh.” I nuzzled her hair. “Good and hard.”

Reluctantly, Nancy pulled away and, slipping out from under the blankets, placed her feet on the green, short-pile carpet. The next moment, she stood, pausing as she gained her bearings before plodding away. I watched her beautiful body until the bathroom door closed. In spite of our friendship and closeness, there were some things Nancy still wanted to do alone! I sat up in bed, the cover falling away as I sleepily rubbed my face.

Jesus, that was a satisfying night, even for one without a hard cock inside me.

Persevering, I held my protesting bladder as I heard the toilet flush a couple of times, then the shower turn on. Ten minutes later, Nancy came out wrapped in a towel, her hair all wet and tangly as she smiled at me.

“I left you some hot water,” she giggled, sitting at the vanity as she wrapped a smaller towel around her head.

I wanted to kiss her before getting clean but refrained. Why? Fuck if I know. The morning after always presented awkward moments, and I was getting tired of that feeling. We had done this several times, and when we awoke, it was pretty much like it didn’t happen, just a brief encounter, mutual orgasms, then back to being best friends.

A heavy stream of pent-up urine cascaded into the toilet bowl. I exhaled with relief and it seemed to go on forever. The shower was quick and warm (she hadn’t left me that much hot water!) as I tried to focus and quell my thoughts. By the time I returned to the bedroom, she had donned a bathrobe, again combing out tangles. I noticed she left the front of the robe open, allowing me to see her breasts and thick, dark pubis. I smiled.

Oh, how you tease me, naughty girl.

“Better, now?” she asked, watching me watching her in the mirror.

“Yes.” My fingertips caressed the curve of her neck.

Guess what? I was ready for sex again and was getting tired of this hesitancy that remained. Dammit, I could usually tell what Nancy was thinking, but this time, our mental bond failed me.

Then came the unexpected.

Lovely, demure Nancy stood, turning to face me. With a shrug, the robe dropped to the floor, revealing her luscious, nude body. The next moment, we embraced, holding each other tight for a long time. No words were spoken as she pulled back. Gazing into my eyes, she nodded.

The next moment, I became naked and we tumbled back onto the bed, kissing madly as I moved on top of her. I couldn’t believe this was happening!

Oh, sweet Jesus, YES!!!

Nancy spread her legs as our pussies met. I moved against her, fur rubbing against fur, our bodies synchronizing as pleasure surged through our bodies. The orgasm came quickly for me as I convulsed against my lover’s body.

“Oh, fuck, ohhh…” Nancy joined me as the bedsprings squeaked with delight. We moved against each other languidly, trying to milk every last spark of pleasure from our union, until we lay side by side, gasping for air.

I didn’t have time to think, or say a word, as Nancy rolled on top, pressing her mouth against mine. We necked like horny teenagers for several minutes, our tongues lashing together, deep and wet. Moaning with pleasure, she reached down to my glistening fur to slip a finger inside. Next thing I knew, she broke the kiss and slid down the bed, looking up at me, eyes filled with mischief.

“Ohhh, goddamn, honey.”

Nancy pressed her face against my pussy. The same tongue that had plumbed the depths of my mouth now slipped into my love canal. I reached back to grip the headboard as she lapped at my juicy pinkness, trying not to thrust against her hungry onslaught. Again, she moaned as she teased my clit. Her hands, which had been gripping my hips, snaked up my ribcage.

I hissed as her red-painted nails dug into my thick nipples, massaging, tugging, torturing them, forcing sparks down to my clit. She knew when I was about to cum. Immediately she stopped, looking up at me, her face wet with my juices, pure deviltry in her eyes. Just as I was about to protest, she resumed pleasuring me.

Oh, that evil girl did it again and again, four times, always stopping when I was about to orgasm.

“Dammit, Nancy!” I sobbed, “Let me cum, for Christ’s sake!”

Smiling, she went back down, her hands now avoiding my nipples, but massaging the soft mounds of my breasts in an attempt to delay the next delicious wave. Mercifully, she kept going this time, moaning against my pussy as the orgasm hit.

Nancy knew what she was doing. By denying me those previous times, I had the strongest, deepest climax within recent memory. Not even Dan-O, in his prime, was able to elicit that type of response. Piledriver? Well, let’s talk about that later.

Holy fuck if she didn’t hang on as I made my best effort to buck her face away. I almost passed out as pure ecstasy possessed my body.

“Uh…uh…unghh...” I grunted like a feral animal.

I must have fallen asleep, or unconscious, for my next sensation was Nancy resting her head against my breasts. Grinning like a fool, I stroked her hair as she looked up at me, smiling, my juices still glistening on her face. Again kissing her deeply, I tasted myself, licking her face like a mama cat as she sighed with contentment.

“Well?” I asked.

“Well?” She responded.

We both started laughing.

“Do you think the BP is history?”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far.”

“I know. There’s nothing to replace a good, healthy cock.”

“Ugh. Let’s not talk about that right now. Let’s enjoy this.” She nuzzled the smooth skin between my breasts. “THIS.”

I felt another smile form against my skin as her oh-so-capable mouth curled up, happy and serene. After those powerful orgasms, and the joy of fulfillment that followed, we cuddled, dozing through the next few hours as the bright sun arced across the clear, blue sky. My eyes blinked open to the sound of voices from her neighbors next door, an elderly couple, and according to Nancy, always bored and nosey. She told me they, usually the wife, managed to knock on her door at least once per week.

From the proximity of the voices, they were right outside our window, most likely tending to the extensive garden they kept from spring to autumn. I was grateful the curtains were pulled closed enough to prevent them some seeing in, but still, the fabric was thin. Have mercy, how would they react to the sight of two naked women lounging, post-coitus, in each other’s arms? Ha!

Nancy took a deep breath, stretching as she rose to consciousness.

“Fuck,” she groaned. “They’re just outside, aren’t they?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m amazed they haven’t knocked on the door for some reason or another.”

“Honey, don’t jinx it.”

Of course, a feeble knock sounded from the front of the house.

“Son of a bitch.”

“You asked for it,” I giggled, tweaking one of her nipples.

“And they won’t go away.”

Nancy quickly slid out of bed, tossing on her slop clothes. I hated to see her dressed, but I knew it was only temporary. She disappeared for a couple of minutes as I heard muffled conversation. Nancy’s lower voice register had risen somewhat to match that of what sounded like the wife. The front door shut and the next moment Nancy appeared with a plate of chocolate chip cookies.

“Here.” She placed it on my bare stomach, her face annoyed.

“Cookies!” I smiled, immediately grabbing one.

“I’ll get some milk.” She started back out the bedroom door, but paused. “Better yet, let’s go to the back bedroom.” Nancy eyed the curtains. Their voices had resumed outside. “At least they won’t be able to look in, or at least I hope not.”

I took the plate, feet caressing the carpet as I padded to the other room. It was considerably smaller and farther away from the bathroom, but no matter.

Once again naked, Nancy lay beside me on fresh sheets in the decidedly smaller bed, but it was fine for two lovers heady with fresh discovery. The cookies were so good, I forced myself to stop after three.

“What, we’re not going to finish the plate?”

“Uh-uh, I’m plump enough as it is.”

“No you’re not.” Nancy gazed at me with adoration. “I’m the one who needs to lay off shit like this.”

“Oh, my love.” I reached out to touch her warm, supple skin, my fingertips tracing along her collarbone, down between her ample breasts. “You don’t know how appealing you are.” I couldn’t help but tug on a big, thick nipple, surrounded by a dark red areola the size of my palm.

Damn, girl, I so need to suck them.

Nancy pressed her tit against my toying fingers, biting her lower lip.

“We have to keep up our strength for…” She took the plate and laid it on the nightstand, taking my hand, and sliding up against my thigh. Our noses almost touched. “This.”

We necked lustily for several minutes and, again, her mouth took my breast, then the other. I hissed with pleasure as she pressed her fur against mine. Our bodies undulated together for another quick, sharp orgasm.

“AHHHggg…” I growled, cupping her sweet buttocks as our bodies spasmed. “Shit!”

Panting, Nancy smiled, nodding. “Uh-HUH!” She fell on top of my body, our bare, damp flesh melding, breasts mashed together as she nuzzled my neck and jawline.

“I’m sure that old fucker spies on me at night.” By then, we sidled together, holding hands, staring at the popcorn ceiling. “Sometimes I can just feel it.”

“Get thicker curtains, my love.”

“Yeah, I know, I know.” She fell silent for a minute. “But what other thrills does that old fart get?”

We both laughed at the thought.

“I mean seriously, you’ve seen them. Do you think they screw?”

“Honey, I don’t even want to think about that.”

“Neither do I, but I can’t help it when she’s standing at my front door with a plate of cookies in her hands. I don’t get through a week without her asking why I don’t settle down and get a husband.”

“That’s her generation, girlfriend.”

“Well, ours, too, to an extent.” Nancy sighed. I squeezed her hand.

“Men haven’t treated us well, and I think we’re both smart enough and independent enough to not marry someone we didn’t love just to keep up appearances.”

“True.”

“And that old fuck needs something to masturbate to.”

Nancy couldn’t help but gasp. “Oh, you nasty girl.”

“Well, you started it.”

“That I did.”

Night started to envelop the room, and sadness enveloped me. I didn’t want to leave my girlfriend, but tomorrow would be Monday and the office.

“Call in sick tomorrow?”

“Ah, no.” I frowned. “That report we have to work on. I don’t want to pull a sick day with that looming over our heads.”

“Yeah, but oh, my god.” She rolled on her side, sliding a leg up over mine, pressing her fur against my thigh. “We gotta have more of this.”

“You come over next weekend, and no BP.” I kissed her face and lips. God, her mouth was so soft, warm, and inviting.

“Yes, Peach.” She rolled on her back, grasping the headboard to let me know she wanted me on top this one last time. I obliged, at last taking her breast into my mouth as she whimpered with delight. Our bodies moved together in perfect union until she squealed out another orgasm.

“I don’t have nosy neighbors, either,” I whispered into her hair.

The hardest part was pulling away from her and getting dressed. The moment I returned home, the door slammed behind me and I, once again, made a quick trek to the bedroom, where I masturbated myself to sleep. Morning came reluctantly and I found myself short of patience. I had to get to work, but my body wanted something else.

God, I need to fuck. I need Nancy.

We were mindful not to touch each other at work. Oh, if they only knew two of their best stenographers were having a sexual relationship! I smiled to myself mischievously, completing my tasks as the week slowly progressed. Friday arrived.

“One more day,” I murmured into my coffee, eyeing my best friend, who sat across from me in the café. The waitress, the same one who always served us, eyed us intently.

“You know she thinks about us fucking,” Nancy whispered, quite matter-of-factly, when the old woman reached a safe distance away.

“Yeah, I know.” I smiled, licking the rim of my mug. “Glad we could give her some masturbatory fodder.”

“We can make some more memories tomorrow to share with her,” Nancy snickered, crinkling her nose, the naughty girl.