July 1st 2013

I had just started a long shift behind the bar and I wasn’t in the mood for being friendly to customers. I’d had a row with my boyfriend, Chris, before I’d left the house. I can’t even remember what the row had been about; it was that meagre and irrelevant. The cause of the arguments never stayed put in my mind because the rough make up sex would always wipe my memory of the reasons why.

Thankfully, the bar had been quiet that night, so my cheeks only slightly ached from the fake, gracious smiles I had used to mask over my real emotions. At the age of thirty, I hadn’t planned to still be working at the bar, but I was good at my job. I knew what the customers wanted and I was really good at reading people.

When the majority of the after-work crowd had left and there was a lull at the bar, I decided to take a wander out to the tables and collect some empties. My mind was elsewhere as I weaved my way through the tables, stacking the pint glasses in my collection tray. I mindlessly cleared the empty tumblers off a younger man’s table. He was sat alone in one of the window seats and broke from people watching to look over at me, “Thanks. Much appreciate, Doll.”

I looked at him with a slightly bemused expression. Somehow the air of sophistication that came from him when he spoke, didn’t match the sight of the baby-faced, casually dressed, messy haired, guy who was in front of me. I was about to ask him if he wanted another drink, noticing that his scotch was almost gone, but a shout from a regular customer at the bar stopped me before I could ask. I turned to see Paul waving an empty glass in the air, which is the international sign for, ‘Can I get another drink?’

By the time I’d served the new wave of customers and had chance to look over in Scotch Boy’s direction, his table was empty and he’d obviously left for the night. The rest of my shift passed in a blur and before I knew it I was heading home, soon to be in the comfort of my man’s arms, as we relaxed together on the sofa in front of the television.

I was thankful he’d forgotten about our row before my shift and enjoyed using his stomach as a pillow, nestled and relaxing with his arm securely around me. We weren’t big talkers, so we watched in silence, just relaxing.

His hand came to my neck. I could tell from the pressure of his fingers against my skin that he was after something. I was really enjoying feeling having his hands on me. He grabbed my neck and pulled my head towards his cock, which was still encased in his joggers, but his erection was clear as day. I stroked his cock through the fabric, before getting frustrated and ripping them off with one pull. It was delicious to feel the soft skin and warmth of his sturdy cock in the palm of my hand.

Meanwhile, his fingers had slipped beneath my panties and he fingered my pussy roughly. He tore off my bottoms, before mauling my pussy making me soaking wet. Sticking his fingers inside me and collecting my juices, his other hand around my neck holding me in place, he brought his soaked fingers to my mouth and watched me suck them clean of my juice. He then tightened his grip on my throat and rubbed my clit. I couldn't take anymore and squirmed in his grip.

I would’ve screamed out had the vice-like grip of his hand around my throat not constricted my cries to mere squeaks of sound. My orgasm was amazing and when I'd finished cumming he let go of my neck and finally let me suck his cock. While I deep throated him, he'd slap my pussy, making me moan out and gurgle around his cock. He gripped my hair in his fist and pumped his cock, face fucking me. I pulled and tweaked at my nipples. His fingers were inside my soaked cunt and I jacked and licked, sucked and cried out that, "I want it. Oh fuck, I want it," willing him to cum all over my waiting tongue. He didn't disappoint.

My hips worked up my own frenzy with his fingers inside my pussy. I incessantly pumped his cock and lapped with my tongue. When I felt the first spray of his cum against me, my cunt gripped his fingers and soaked his hand with the gush of viscous excitement.

I swallowed every last drop, carefully licking his softening dick clean and slowly coming down after my own orgasmic high. Afterwards we went back to silently cuddling on the sofa.

July 2nd 2013

After the brilliant session of oral sex the night before, I had a hopefully sense that maybe everything would be alright between me and my boyfriend. We’d been together for what felt like forever, which was in fact a little over ten years. Even though things weren’t perfect, with a naughty glow from doing one of my favourite things I was feeling positive.

I came up behind him as he prepared his packed lunch for the day. I put my arms around his waist, cuddling into his back. He froze, but held onto me for a moment. I didn’t get the feeling I craved from him; that returned feeling of passion, of love. It’s not that he didn’t love me. I was sure I meant everything to him. He just didn’t have the same way of showing it as I did. He turned and gave me a little peck on the cheek and said, “I’m getting ready to leave for work. I’ll see you briefly before you go to work later and then I’ll head out.”

My positive feelings evaporated like the vapour out the top of a boiling kettle.

I had drawn the short straw when it came to that days shift and I was going to be closing. At the bar my day had been long and busy and I was clearing tables when the sound of coins bouncing across the floor caught my attention. I collected the change that had rolled in my direction and turned to the juke box to hand it back to the person who had dropped it.

Scotch boy knelt before me, collecting the silver pieces that had scattered across the floor. He smiled as he stood. It was the first time I’d seen him stand and his lofty frame towered over my not so measly 5ft11” height. I handed him back the coins I had picked up.

“Seems I owe you thanks,” he said with a cheeky smile.

“You’re welcome. I don’t mind helping you get your money back, as long as you use it to put some decent music on,” I replied with a wink, before going back to collecting glasses.

Things usually calmed down after the last public transport times had passed and that night was no exception. There were a few stragglers scattered across tables throughout the seating area and Old Mr Riley was in his usually place propping up the end of the bar.

I was cleaning down the bottle shelf and thinking about what else I needed to get done before closing up, when a voice behind me broke my thoughts.

“Did you approve of the music?”

“Some of the rock songs weren’t really my cup of tea, but I liked the Sinatra. If that was you?”

He pulled up a stool and placed his empty glass on the bar. I grabbed the bottle of single malt scotch and was about to pour him a shot when a thought came into my mind.

“You got any ID?”

He laughed and I couldn’t help chuckling along at the sight of his twinkling amused eyes and broad smile, “You don’t think I look old enough to drink?”

“You do look young. I wouldn’t be doing my job properly if I didn’t ask.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment and it seems I’ve got to thank you twice in one night.” He pulled the ID from his wallet, “Aren’t you the lucky girl?”

I laughed not only at his cheeky response, but also the sight of his ID picture. With wide hazel eyes, below raised eyebrows and a really goofy grin, the picture could do nothing but make me giggle.

“I know it’s certainly not the best pose. A friend of mine liked the picture and dared me to use it for my ID. Silly I know, but it is amusing watching people’s reactions.”

“I’m sure it is… Luke, aged twenty one and ten months.”

I poured his drink. He spent the rest of my shift chatting in between me serving customers.

After everyone else had left and I’d bundled Old Mr Riley in a cab and sent him on his way home. I locked up the bar and poured myself and Luke a glass of scotch each.

“You drink scotch?”

“Never tried it, but I’m always game to try new things.” I took a large sip and nearly choked, as the burning liquid hit the back of my throat and trailed its heat through my insides. Luke laughed in response. I tipped the remainder into his glass and poured myself a vodka coke.

“You seem a lot happier today,” he noted.

“Yeah, I wasn’t feeling myself yesterday…” He raised his eyebrows indicated my innuendo, so I playful whipped him with my bar towel. “I didn’t mean like that! What I meant was I’d had an argument with my boyfriend before my shift, so I was feeling a little out of sorts.”

“Ahh, that makes sense. You’ve obviously made up since then,” he said with the cheekiest of smirks.

I may have only spent a short time talking with him, but something inside me knew I could trust him. I had no difficulty opening up and sharing with him things that you probably wouldn’t even share with people you’d known for years.

Over the next four hours we propped up the bar in the darkened space and talked and talked about anything and everything. I laughed so hard that my sides hurt. We shared stories of love, lust and hurt and by the time the sun started to rise above the horizon I felt like I’d known him forever.

“We should get going. The cleaners will be arriving soon,” I reluctantly said.

“Won’t Chris wonder where you’ve been all night?”

“He’s gone to visit his brother for a few days, so he’s not at home. It looks like it’s going to be a nice day, so I’ll probably get some sleep then work on my tan in the garden, before my shift at night.”

“Now that I’d like to see.”

I grinned at his compliment, “Perhaps I’ll send you a picture.”

***

It was the start of an intense and exceptionally close friendship. It was the sort of friendship that many would never be able to understand. Perhaps that’s because many would see that it could never last long term, but in my happy oblivious world, I had hope that I could make it work.

Every day we spoke. If I was at home he would text me. He would come see me at work and I often joked that our friendship would turn him into an alcoholic. We became close on so many levels. We could make each other laugh, talk maturely about deep topics, rant about work and family, and most commonly talk about lust and desire.

I felt bad because he was a young single guy. We both knew I was attached and so nothing could ever physically happen between us; he was a gentleman and would never do that to Chris. He also knew that I would struggle with the guilt and didn’t want to put me through that. I respected him so much for that and it only made my feelings for him grow even stronger.

That didn’t mean to say that we didn’t take things as close to a full blown affair as we possibly could. What was once a case of me describing in detail what I got up to in the bedroom with Chris, turned quickly into what I wanted Luke to do to me.

I have to laugh at how conniving he was at the beginning when he tricked me. We were in the park catching some sun before my shift was due to start. I was curious to find out what he was like in the bedroom. All my other previous attempts to find out how many women he’d slept with had been closed down, so I decided to take a different approach.

“Do you like to be dominant, or be dominated in the bedroom?”

He smiled a wry grin before answering, “I’d say I’m switch.”

“Bit of both keeps things interesting I guess,” I paused before continuing. “We have a completely open and honest friendship right?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Well then, why do you always clam up when I try to ask you about who you’ve slept with in the past? Are you still a virgin?”

My radar had been picking up on things and I had my suspicion, but I was still shocked when he answered back, “Yes.”

It was the start of being continually shocked by him. I’m sure I’ve used the phrase, “Switch, my arse!” a few times throughout the next several months. For a guy that had never had sex before, he sure knew how to stoke the flames of desire within me. With just a look he could get me quivering inside. There was a power and dominance to him that didn’t match up to the exterior image and was completely opposite to his caring side.

The balance between friendship and my obsessive desire to fuck him was getting way out of kilter. I’d masturbate to thoughts of him constantly, sometimes even with him on the phone listening to me.

One night I got really brave and sent him a video of me fucking my dildo, sliding the life-like appendage deep into my soaked pussy. I looked straight down the camera and got myself off while thinking of him, calling out his name. The message I got back was my reward for all the nervous waiting and questioning of if it was a step too far.

You total, filthy, teasing bitch. I just knew when I saw that 'Inbox (1)' you'd done something totally twisted. Thank you so much. That was so fucking hot; it had me in a bit of a state. But, luckily for you, you don't have to just take my word for it. Just in case you were worried I didn't enjoy it…

Attached was a video of him stroking the most gorgeous and massive cock I think I’d ever seen. It was incredible and I couldn’t resist messaging him straight away to tell him so.

How we managed to keep our hands off each other when we were in person I have no idea. I wanted him to give me the gift of taking his virginity. It would only be once and it would be amazing. I thought of it so many times, what we would do and how incredible it would be.

But I’m not stupid, I knew if it happened once it would happen again. I knew that he would never allow it to happen, even if I begged him for it, (which he would’ve loved) but it wasn’t going to happen.

One night we spoke and I knew something was going to have to give. We agreed that for the sake of my relationship with Chris that I would pull back. The friendship could no longer be so sexually charged and we couldn’t fantasise about what we would do with each other.

I loved him dearly as a friend and I didn’t want to lose him completely, so although it was difficult (total understatement. I’ve never taken drugs, but I imagine it’s a lot like coming off of heroin cold turkey) I worked hard at maintaining the new boundaries we had to set.

I focused on working on things with Chris. It wasn’t a bad relationship. In many ways it was better than most. We had the same views on most things, enjoying doing the same sort of stuff, the sex in the most part was amazing, but there was just something missing.

I’m sure over time relationships change and the excitement dies down, but that didn’t mean you had to give up on things. We both had our faults and with a bit of compromise on both parts I’m sure we could be happy together.

But I still craved Luke.

Even though I knew it would never be able to work between us, he was so much younger than I, never having had a serious relationship. Past the lust it probably would never work. He wasn’t supposed to be with me. He deserved more than that. I wanted him to find someone and be happy.

So why did that hurt so much?

January 25th 2014

It had been a tough month. Christmas had just passed and I hadn’t got to see too much of Luke. He’d gone visiting family. It had been a bit of a wash out sort of holidays. Chris was in serious pain with an old football injury to the knee, so was a bit of a grouch to live with. I offered to work over the holidays just to get some space from his snapping. I understood he was in pain, but still I was better out the way.

During the holidays a new regular had started coming into the bar. He seemed lonely, but a real interesting guy, so I spent my shifts chatting with him at the bar. He seemed overly keen to profess his emotions for me and after only a few weeks had decided that he was head over heels in love with me. I didn’t know what to do. He was a great guy and I really did enjoy chatting to him, but I couldn’t return his feelings of love. I went to Luke for advice.

“I honestly don’t know what to do?”

“You’ve just got to let him down gently. He really told you he loved you?”

“Yes! I honestly didn’t encourage it. I was being friendly and flirty; you know what I’m like. I honestly didn’t expect him to fall in love.”

He patted his knee for me to come and cuddle up in his arms, gently pulling the hair from out of my eyes and stroking my cheek.

“I’ve got a question for you. What would you do if I declared my love for you?”

I felt comfortable in his arms and thought for a moment.

“If it was you my sweets, I wouldn't mind because I know you understand and are mature enough to deal with the situation.”

“Would it annoy you? Upset you?”

“I love you, but you understand how I love you. I love you as much as my heart allows, as it's not free to give away completely, but I hope you understand how much you mean to me and how special you are…” I laughed, “I can just imagine if I wasn’t on your knee you’d be running into the hills shouting, ‘Fuck, you stupid bitch. I was joking. Now I know how you feel.’”

“I'm not running for the hills, Sweetie, don't be silly. And I honestly doubt I'll ever fully appreciate what I mean to you, it's never something I like to assume to any degree. But I do understand what you're saying and I do, I think, understand how you feel. You love me just as I love you. Which I do, of course I do. I'm not going to declare undying love for you and insist you run away with me or even ask anything of you. I love you because you're a sweet, caring, kind and lovable friend. One of my best friends and a person I rate highly in my life, a person I find my happiness drawn from and someone who always influences me for the good. So of course I love you, you're my sweets and you're fantastic. But it's not "marry me" love. It's the affectionate love between friends. With a whole hint of sexiness added in for the fuck of it.”

As usual he’d managed to make me laugh, but there were also tears of happiness in my eyes.

February 16th 2014

When a position working at the bar came available I suggested Luke should apply. He’d been unhappy with his current job and I knew he’d get on well with the other members of staff and customers.

“Come on. It will be fun working together. You’re here most of your spare time anyway – You might as well be getting paid for it.”

He held his hands up in surrender, “Okay, okay. When do you want me to do the trial shift?”

“I’ll have a word with the boss now. I’ll put in a good word for you and I know some of the other bar staff will do the same. I can see if I can get you a shift tomorrow night with me. Monday’s are always quiet, so we can settle you in gently.”

I was so excited. I practically skipped to the back office to speak to my boss. It was going to be fantastic. I’d get to spend so much more time with him and it would make work a place I couldn’t wait to get to.

That’s what I thought anyway.

***

Things began to change with him. It was clear that I still really wanted him and was struggling to come to terms with the fact that I still craved him badly. He did his best to avoid those sorts of situations, but when I was in a really naughty mood I made it hard for him. I feel bad about that now, because I didn’t realise it was causing a wedge between us.

I had realised that I loved him in a way I shouldn’t. The realisation came when I got insanely jealous on hearing about other girls and members of bar staff who were outrageously flirting with him.

But what could I do? I had no right to him. He wasn’t mine. He was young, single, good looking and should’ve been out enjoying the attention. I clung to the fact that I was still his friend and was special because of the closeness we shared. I swallowed the hurt of hearing him tell tales of all the young, gorgeous, and sometimes even older and sexy women that were drowning him with attention.

We were drifting apart and there was nothing I could do to stop it. When we were together, after I’d hunted him down, he would only infuriate me and leave me feeling angry.

“I was thinking of performing one of my poems at the monthly open mic night,” I told Luke in the staff room before shift, when I’d finally managed to track him down when he was alone.

“Yeah, yeah sounds good,” he absently minded answered back, while typing on his phone.

“Are you even listening to me?” I snapped.

“Yes. It’s just that Gill is messaging me some real hot pictures and I can’t just ignore her.”

“Do you have to do that while I’m trying to have a conversation with you?”

“Sorry, sorry. I’ll put my phone away. I promise.”

“I thought she’d gone a bit psycho on you? Why you still talking to her?”

“She’s alone and hasn’t got anyone else. I don’t just want to dump her. She’s been talking about getting a hotel somewhere, but I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

I remember my heart sinking. I knew it would happen and it would be sooner rather than later, but I thought I’d have more time to prepare. I was about to lose my dream of being the one to take his virginity. Since he’d started working at the bar, it seemed he had more and more girls that wanted his attention. I was getting less and less of his.

When I did get time alone with him and he wasn’t messaging someone else, it seemed that all he did was irritate me. What was once cute, now made my blood boil. Gone in my eyes was the mature, sophisticated man I’d once known. It felt to me that he had reverted back to his age and spending time with lots of young girls his own age had caused him to regress. That may not have been true, but that’s what it felt like to me.

I got angry at myself. I shouldn’t let it hurt me like it did. He was doing what he was supposed to be doing. One day, I got so pissed off with myself that I vowed not to run after him and contacting him anymore. If he wanted me in his life then he would come to me.

What followed was the longest two weeks of my life. I wanted to swap shifts to see him. I wanted to message him to say hi, but I didn’t. I just waited.

I don’t know if I’ve ever felt more disappointed in myself than the day I caved in and went into work early so I could see him. I had been weak and had gone back on a promise I’d made to myself. I was hoping it was worth the feeling a failure, but it wasn’t.

October 1st 2014

I pulled him into the cellar and asked for a word. The weeks of built up emotion just came out in one fast paced wave, “I've been feeling really confused and conflicted recently. I haven't shared any of it with you, through fears of pushing you away, being a pain and hassle, but mainly through fear of hurting your feelings. Problem is in safe guarding your feeling mine keep getting hurt. I know it's my fault and fucked it all up by letting emotions get in the way. We were close once, so close that I called you a best friend, perhaps I was a little delusional and one-sided in that statement. I should have never taken it further than friendship in my mind. I've asked too much of you in the past and when you've understandably not lived up to that it’s hurt me. That's not your fault at all; it's all down to me…”

He stopped me.

“I really feel shit now, knowing how much I've let you down and how much I've hurt you. It's never what I've wanted, sweetie, and it pains me to know that it's what I've caused. I'm so sorry. This is not your fault, so don't keep blaming yourself. It's me. I'm a shit friend. I know I am and I can only apologise. Lately, I'm a shit to a lot of people. I know I've fucked up, sweetie. I know I don't deserve you and that I've probably ruined my chances of being your friend properly for good. I know I've upset you and it's really not what I ever wanted. Ever. It's frustrating to say that I can only apologise. I wish I could do more. I'll try in future, but I fear I'll fuck up again. I hope you can forgive me?”

We just hugged for the longest time. I was hopeful that things would change after that.

***

Even though we’d had the chat things didn’t really change and we continued to drift apart. I knew I was losing him and there wasn’t a fucking thing I could do about it. Going into work got harder and harder, as rumours spread of female staff and their attraction to Luke. Who could blame them? He was sweet and charming, flirty and sexy, and I didn’t see how any woman could not fall for his charms.

I was insanely jealous and angry at myself for feeling that way. It affected the way I was when I was around him and that only made me angrier.

The final blows came when he one day opened up to me and professed his love for one of the women that had been working as a flyer girl. She was wild and adventurous. She’d been over here on a short trip before heading back home to the States. In a way I sympathised with him, understanding the feeling of having a love that you knew you couldn’t have, but on the other hand it was heart wrenching to hear.

I hid my pain from him, not wanting him to know that he was the cause of such great pain for me. I was there for him as his friend and it gave me hope that we could once again become close.

The second part of the blow was to come shortly after. His girl had flown home before it had a chance to really go anywhere, but there was always another girl in the wings, eagerly waiting to get hold of him.

She was gorgeous, young and petit, everything I wasn’t. She too was a virgin and so they shared the common feelings of trepidation about doing it for the first time. I had to be there for him. I was his friend. I had to encourage him to go for it, knowing it was what he should do.

But inside, a piece of me was breaking apart. Any hope that I had was going to be gone soon. She would get what I’d secretly wanted to share with him. The special moment that I had not been able to have in my own life, with my first time being beyond horrendous, was going to be taken from his by someone else.

I knew she’d fall for him and chances are he would fall for her. He would be happy and as his friend I should be happy about that.

I’ve distanced myself from him now. Changing my shifts and keeping out of the way when I know he’s around. It pains me to do it, but the pain of that is less than the pain of seeing him around flirting with other people.

I didn’t mean to fall in love and ruin our friendship. I was hoping I could be stronger and let go of those feelings to save the friendship. Who knows? Maybe one day we could be friends again, or maybe that’s the foolish sort of hopes that got me in trouble the first time.

Luke once told me that we can’t control our feelings and that we don’t choose who we fall in love with. He was right of course. I couldn’t fight the feelings of loving him, any more than I could stop things fading with Chris at home. Luke couldn’t see how much I was hurting because I shielded him from it to protect his feelings.

I know every story has more than one side to it. Luke thinks he’s let me down and hates that I’ve got hurt, but I don’t blame him. He did nothing wrong and if I had been able to control my emotions and had seen what was happening sooner, then maybe I could’ve protected myself better.

There is still part of me that dearly wants to be his friend and part of his life. That’s the part that looks back with fond memories and wishes him all the best and a life full of happiness. He’s a good, caring man; I couldn’t love him if he wasn’t.