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The Quiet

By: naircela



I know that there are things I can not control and those would include my weakness for the flesh. 

I was approached by him on some random online meeting place, when I looked at his profile he was so young and I knew better. However he was insanely clever and witty for his age and that is what caught my attention. We chatted through the site for a few days, he was comical and sweet all at the same time, it had my intrigued me. Soon after that we started chatting through an instant messenger and we exchanged stories about our families and how we were raised. I found that I couldn't stop looking at his pictures. He had the face of an angel, dark hair and hazel like eyes, he was very appealing to the eyes but I kept thinking I am far to old for this nonsense and I should know better. After a while of the messenger chatting he asked my for my phone number so without hesitation I gave it to him. Within 3 seconds of that my phone rang and I heard his voice for the first time. 

His voice was calm and soothing, we talked for hours the first time we had an exchange by telephone. I was very impressed with his reserve but his sense of humor was unreal. I couldn't stop laughing at some of the off beat things he would say, however we discussed more things about ourselves, our families and little quirks that make us individuals. On that particular night it was late and after I fell asleep I had some terrible nightmare, as soon as I woke up I called him back for some reason and he made me laugh and told me some stories. I calmed down and went back to sleep. Through the next week we talked everyday, the whole how was your day and so on. He would tell me about his day and things that struck him as odd or funny. I was talking to him one night about the ho hum day, I told him I had to go due to having to get up early for work. We said our goodbyes and off to bed I went. 

It was maybe an hour after I had fallen asleep I was awakened by a horrible nightmare that had me at tears when I woke up. I immediately picked up the phone and called him, I know I sounded like a nervous wreck. He asked " Do you want me to come over and lay down with you?" Then it came from my lips like a well rehearsed exit. I said yes and hung up the phone. 

When he got here I answered the door wrapped in one of my favorite blankets, he walked through the door and I led him to my room. I crawled back into my bed and curled back up in a ball. There were no words exchanged between us. I felt him slide in behind me, I could smell him it was a mix of innocence and surprise. It was silent and he was close, I could feel him breathing and he rested his nose on the back of my neck. With every breath his heat carried down my neck , I remember all the hair on me stood on end. I love the anticipation of things and I loved dragging this out. However I have a weak constitution when it came to his flesh. I rolled over and laid my head at his neck, he smelled new and unknown oh how I love that smell. The tension was so thick it felt like it was suffocating me. I could take it I ran my hand up the inside of his shirt, Oh his body is a thing that can only be truly enjoyed by hours and hours of free uninterrupted time. I leaned in and I kissed him in that moment I knew there was no turning back. 

After that the clothes starting to slowing going elsewhere, he pushed my skirt up and slide my panties down. My insides were throbbing to feel him. He pushed my back and crept up the inside of my thighs biting them here and there making his mark. Then I felt him there, where I was warm and already so wet. His hot mouth pressed against my clit and my body twitched, his tongue felt like slick cotton. He moved his tongue in and out of my pussy with this wicked rhythm, I wanted him inside me so bad I was dying. He put his fingers deep inside me and just let me have it, I came immediately. I wanted his cock I had to know what he felt like I thought I was going to lose my mind if I didn't feel him sink his dick deep inside me. 

He pulled back and I fought to find his belt I couldn't get undone quick enough. I peeled my shirt and his both off, I looked at him and his body was grand. His skin tasted like honey to me, as we came to that moment after the fumbling. It was time it was time for me finally know and boy was I ever the so informed, thick he was and long. I whimpered quietly and he slide so deep into me I felt every inch of him, that's all it took and I got that hot sticky feeling underneath my skin I was going to cum. He just began to hit it off harder and harder and harder. It was welling inside me like some kind of flood welling up ready to blow. Then he flipped me on my knees and drove hard into my pounding hot pussy, I put my hands against the wall and braced myself I was Cumming with each stroke he threw into me. In that moment and that wicked rhythm I remembered what peace was, Truly is when all his frustration was laid to me in that deviance that borders on pleasure and violence in his every stroke. Oh how he made me cum, his body and his silence all the things that made him who he was. After all was said and done I knew that he would be like an addiction to me. He laid there with me for awhile till I was about asleep from the exhaustion of the entire situation. Then as soon as he was here he was gone. My body was sore and hurting, The next day at work when I sat down of crossed my legs I was reminded of him and what was passed between us. Even though it hurt, It made me smile none the less

Even as I sit here now and everyday since I had him in me, I know that I want him again and again, I want him in every way that he is. His violence, innocence, and all the things that makes us the sexual creatures that we are. I have been putting off the inevitable and that is feeling him again. I swear I don't know if I want to baby him or fuck him, all I know is that I do want him.

The Quiet Friend Pt. 01



To the readers.

First of all, a massive thanks for anyone who read, commented, favourited, etc, on my debut posting. The feedback was unexpected and I'm incredibly grateful to everyone who sent me some. It was encouraging to say the least.

This next story is in two parts, since I considered it to be too long for one single posting. While this first part is non-erotic, the second part will not be. Hopefully, I will not take as long next time to post something new.

And finally, a massive thank you to LadyFalcon for patiently going through the story with me and helping me edit and fix grammar!

Hope you all enjoy...

... ... ... ... ...

The Saturday after Greg had turned twenty years old, there was a party thrown for him. Rowan decided he would take the train to get there during the afternoon and spend some time with his friend before the party actually started. He did not expect Sarah.

When he knocked, the door was opened by a blue eyed girl of about the same age as him, with long, wavy, dark blonde hair halfway down her back which ended in a natural curl. Her eyes were brilliantly piercing, so much so, that at first he felt uncomfortable.

He stared at her for a second or two and then looked at the room number on the door. It was definitely Greg's flat. Besides, this was the male corridor of the dorm.

"Uh. Hi. Hello?" She said.

Rowan looked at her again. "Sorry. I'm looking for Greg."

She smiled. "You must be Rowan."

He nodded, taking note of how much he liked her warm, crooked smile.

"Hi. I'm Sarah." She held out a hand. "Greg's just inside."

"Oh. Hi." He shook her hand and walked in as she moved out of the way.

"He's just ironing his shirt. And this is where I say goodbye."

Rowan turned around.

She reached down to pick up a pair of shoes, but did not put them on. "I have to go get ready. You're going to be at the party later, right?"

"Yes."

"Then I'll see you there!"

"Right." Rowan wanted to know who she was, but didn't ask. Greg would explain.

With another quick smile, she left barefoot while Rowan stood for a few moments looking at the door. It had been brief, but those eyes stayed with him; he had never seen eyes as pale as that before. He turned, guessing Greg was probably in the living room, and walked to him.

"You got here faster than I thought you would," Greg said, as he walked in. Greg stood topless, ironing a black shirt.

He had that smirk on his face. The one that Rowan knew meant he had something to tell him but he was going to just drop it casually into conversation as if it was nothing. Rowan already guessed; that blonde girl must have been Greg's girlfriend.

Rowan sat down on the sofa nearest the TV. "I got lucky with the traffic. And the bus come to think of it."

"You didn't drive up?"

"No. I'll just get the train back tomorrow."

"Idiot boy. Should have taken the car! Could stay until Monday. We could chill out tomorrow, maybe go into town or something."

"I've got too much work to do this week."

"Hmm. You should live a little, Rowan. Work isn't everything."

"I know it isn't. There's also procrastination."

Greg shook his head and chuckled. He finished his ironing and picked his shirt up, holding it in front of him and checking it was to his satisfaction.

Then, in the most calm manner he could muster, he asked, "I take it you met my girl?"

Rowan closed his eyes and smiled to himself. "I was wondering when that was coming."

"What'd you think?"

"You've never mentioned her. That already tells me you're not serious about her," Rowan said, opening his eyes to look at him.

"When am I ever serious about a girl? Besides I've only been going out with her for about three weeks. Not so sure about her."

"Hmm."

"Still," Greg winked, "Better than you'll ever get."

Rowan rolled his eyes in reply.

... ... ... ... ...

The party didn't quite kick off until around nine at night, though several people were there already by then. There were a few people he knew from previous visits and several people that were new to him. All of them brought drinks and soon the flat was full of intoxicated people and loud, heavy music that made him feel as though his head was vibrating.

Rowan mostly sat in the corner and watched everyone. It was times like these he felt slightly apart from everyone. He was enjoying the music, even the atmosphere and watching some of the people dance, but there was still a sense of barriers between him and everyone else. He wasn't suited for parties. Greg had always been the far more sociable one and even in their current group of friends, Rowan was the one most likely to stay at home or only appear if there were fewer people at an occasion. He had got teased about it by his friends, but they had accepted his introversion almost from the first moments they knew him.

Besides, he liked it, being quiet and in the corner, observing all the others around him. In his opinion, you could see a lot happening, simply by watching patiently. Across the room, two old friends were talking animatedly while a girl from a group nearby was watching one of them carefully. In the other corner of the room, a couple were kissing, but the female of the two had most of her body turned away from her boyfriend. Rowan wondered if that was a sign of things to come in their relationship.  

Greg was somewhere, lost amongst the thronging crowd, some of which were in the middle of the room dancing drunkenly to music. Rowan had only imbibed three shots of whiskey and had already resigned himself to the fact that he was not feeling like getting drunk.

He stood up, moving past a couple of dancers and walked into the hallway toward the room nearest the front door. There was a phone in there. The door was locked however, and he sighed and left it alone. Walking back to the main room, where the music was loudest, he stopped and watched some of the girls dancing.

The music was obviously designed to induce some state of arousal, at least judging from the way some of them were moving. For a moment he was mesmerised by one pair of swaying hips, until he felt a tap on his shoulder.

He turned around to see Katarina, who was smiling lightly at him. She pulled him into a hug, greeting him right in his ear and then pulled him toward the balcony. He followed willingly.

Once outside, she slid the balcony door shut, blocking out most of the music and breathed out deeply into the night air.

She looked at Rowan directly in the eyes and said in quite a serious voice, "I think my eardrums were trying to escape from my ears."

"You still haven't fixed that problem? All you need to do is cut their legs off." Rowan said, an amused look on his face.

She shook her head and flashed him a smile. "Hello, Rowan."

"I was about to call you, you know? To see if you were coming."

"Why didn't you?"

"Greg's room door was locked. I left my mobile at home. He's got the only phone in the flat in his room. I'm glad you're here."

"I almost didn't come. Now I'm wondering why I did."

"Platonic obligations perhaps?"

"Hmm. Either that or the alternative was sitting at home listening to my sister talking about her latest perfect boyfriend with oh-so-lovely eyes and a large package in their pockets."

"... I take it you mean their wallets?"

With a straight face, she replied, "Why, what else would I mean?"

Rowan grinned. "It's good to see you."

"Likewise."

Katarina looked down at the ground. They were six floors up, something which Katarina was not happy about. The car park down below was lit partially by flood lights and for a moment she looked for her car.

"I don't like being this far up, but this is the only quiet place we can talk for a bit," She mumbled. She turned to him, shrugging. "At least no one else is out here."

She sat down leaning against one of the side walls of the balcony, which was made of stone. They could see everything happening inside the room and feel the bass thudding underneath them. A paranoid thought flared through Rowan's mind as he hoped the glass wall opposite the door, at the far end of the balcony would not shatter from the effects of the music. He sat down at an angle to her, resting his back on the glass.

"Rowan, don't do that."

"Don't do what?"

"Lean against the glass."

"Why?"

"Because."

"Because?"

Katarina narrowed her eyes at him. She shook her head. "Never mind."

"Nothing will happen. I'm sure these things are designed to take the weight of someone leaning on them."

"Hmf. Let's not think about this."

"Okay."

"Greg's got a girl. How long do you think this one will last?" Katarina asked after a few moments of silence.

Rowan shrugged. "I've barely spoken to her. She was around when I got here but then she left me and Greg to it for a while. Something about needing to get ready."

"Which one is she?" Katarina asked, waving her hand toward the living room.

Rowan glanced at each of the people in the room in turn. Then, spotting a flash of dark blonde hair, he watched carefully. There was a dub-step track playing and he could feel the heavy beat pulsing through him. He almost felt the need to move with it.

From the crowd, Sarah appeared. Rowan stared, speechless. It was the first he had seen her since she left earlier and he was not prepared for the effect her appearance and movement were having on him. Her hair was tied in a bun slightly off to one side at the back of her head and she wore a simple t-shirt with a neckline that went straight across her clavicle, exposing her shoulders and the black bra straps. She wore jeans which were surprisingly not tight fitting as every other girl seemed to be wearing, but still clung to her body in a way that left no doubts about her round curves. Her body was definitely a pear shape. He was entranced.

Her dancing exuded a confidence and sexiness that outweighed everyone else on the floor. It was more intense than any of the other dancers he had noticed earlier. Her eyes were closed and she moved slowly, swaying hips, her arms folded so her hands were touching her shoulders and neck. She looked completely lost in the moment.

For a few brief, bright seconds, he could read that feeling around her, emanating from those hip movements and her closed eyes. It was that feeling of nothing in the future and nothing in the past. The same feeling he got when he read Neruda or listened to his favourite music.

"Rowan? Rowan!"

Rowan jerked his head right to look at Katarina. "Sorry, Kat. Uh, it's her. The blonde one. The one dancing right there."

"Oh. Wow. She's gorgeous."

"Yeah. I suppose."

Katarina was about to point out that he had been staring at the blonde girl, but stayed quiet when she realised he seemed a little troubled by something. She was about to ask him about this when the door opened and the blonde girl walked out, shutting the door behind her. The sudden loud rush of music had surprised them both and they were momentarily disorientated as they looked up at Sarah.

"Hey. Hi, Rowan."

"Sarah," Rowan said, glancing at Katarina. "This is Katarina. Katarina, Sarah."

"Hi," Sarah said to Katarina, smiling enthusiastically. "It's hot inside. I came out for a bit of air."

"There is plenty of air out here for all of us," Katarina said with a straight face.

"Y'know, I'm very glad to hear that. I was worried there might be a shortage with all those people inside."

"Only a shortage of cold air. I'm sure there's enough hot air in some of those idiot boys inside to ensure total Hindenberg flight."

Sarah laughed, half puzzled at her words. Katarina stood up and held out a hand which Sarah took and Katarina shook it. Then without so much of a word, she glanced at Rowan and then went inside. Sarah turned back to Rowan and raised an eyebrow.

"That was a little strange."

"That's Katarina for you. She got it slightly wrong though. The Hindenberg had hydrogen in it. Not hot air."

"She's a friend?"

"Old friend. I went to school with her and Greg."

"Ah. Hey did he tell you? Turns out I grew up only a couple of miles away from you both. We might have ended up in the same school, but I think I was in a different catchment area."

"Oh. Wow. Hell of a coincidence."

"Yep. Funny that we met here."

"It probably happens a lot more than people realise."

"Probably."

Sarah looked out at the view from the balcony, resting her hands on the top of the wall. She leaned forward a little and Rowan could not help but glance at her feet. She was wearing trainers. Smiling at this, he turned away, only to look back again when he heard movement. Sarah had sat down beside him.

"It's good to finally meet you," She said. "Greg's mentioned you a few times."

"I wish I could say the same."

"That is a little strange. That he wouldn't tell you. Isn't it?"

Rowan shrugged. His loyalty to Greg kicked in. "I haven't spoken to him for a while so I guess the opportunity didn't come up."

She nodded and brought her knees up in front of her, putting her arms on them and relaxing her back on the glass. Rowan watched her the entire time, thinking of the one obvious, glaring reason which he did not want to express; that Greg had no interest in a long relationship. That she was just like any number of other girls he had been with for a short time and moved on from after he felt the 'relationship' had run its course. It was one aspect of Greg that Rowan didn't like.

Now that she sat right beside him, he could see her features more clearly. She had a long neck and pale, full bodied lips. Her shoulders were somewhat delicate and there was a tiny mole on her neck, just under the jaw.

Rowan shook his head at himself, looking into the living room. What was he doing? He shouldn't have been paying that much attention to her features. Rowan had always been a curious person when it came to people, but there had to be limits, didn't there? He swore at himself under his breath. It was just the alcohol, he thought to himself.

"Are you okay, Rowan?"

He looked up. "Yeah. I'm fine. Tired."

"Why are you out here? And not inside."

Rowan shrugged. "I'm not good with crowds."

"Oh. Neither am I, really."

That was a little too hard to believe. "You seemed to be doing fine in there when you were dancing," Rowan said, in what he hoped was a vaguely calm, disinterested voice.

"You were watching me dance?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.

Rowan stammered and shook his head. "N-Not quite. I j-just noticed, that's all."

She grinned. "I'm teasing you. It's fine."

He gave a half hearted smile in return and looked ahead at his hands. She said nothing. He could hear her breathing becoming calm from the earlier exertion. It was then, he realised, that she simply felt no need to speak. Strangely, for the first time in a long while, he felt completely comfortable with someone he had only just properly met.

Perhaps it was that comfort, which made him ask his next question. "Do you always feel like that when you dance?"

Sarah looked at him. "Like what?"

Rowan stopped there, wondering how he was supposed to proceed. Then he smiled to himself and shook his head. "Never mind."

"Rowan."

"Hmm?"

"Tell me." There was a deep something to her tone of voice which Rowan couldn't quite identify at first, but the look on her face told him it could only be interest.

"... I guess, caught up. Caught up in it. Nothing else around. The feeling I mean. In dancing," Rowan said, not sure if he was quite making sense.

Sarah tilted her head to the side a little. "You really were watching me." There was that emphasis she took care to express.

Rowan shrugged. "I just noticed. That's all."

Sarah was silent for several seconds. Then she asked, "If you could think of a song that expresses that feeling; that getting caught up in the moment, or even just living in it; what would it be?"

Surprised at the question, Rowan took his time to answer. At first his mind was blank until it started to race through all the times he had felt so completely caught up in the act of listening. Several songs came to mind, but there was one song which he had consciously felt wrapping around him as he listened to it.

"Have you ever heard of Robin Trower?" Rowan asked, not at all expecting her to know the name.

She nodded. "Bridge of Sighs album?"

Rowan said nothing, nor made a move. He was in awe.

"Let me guess. 'About To Begin'?" She asked.

Rowan nodded.

"I love that song," She said with a smile.

They talked for hours that night.

... ... ... ... ...

Around a year and a half after he first met Sarah, Rowan stood at Greg's front door, sighing in relief as it shut and his date for the party was gone.

He was at a graduation party. It was late, which meant most people had already gone home or moved onto other parties and only a few close friends remained, scattered around the flat.

Rowan went back to the balcony, past Greg and some other friends who were arguing about music. On the balcony, sat Katarina and Sarah.

"Is she gone?" Sarah asked.

Rowan nodded.

"Oh. Thank God for that. She was doing my head in. So boring. Definitely not your type."

Rowan raised an eyebrow at her as he sat down, his back against the glass as he always did. "You're the one who told me to ask her out."

"I thought she was fun! She seemed it when we saw her down that, um, nightclub."

"Oh. She was drunk at the nightclub. That's probably what it was."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Sorry, Rowan. Next time I tell you to ask someone out, you're welcome to tell me to fuck off."

Rowan smiled at her. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Rowan, please don't do that," Katarina said, an expression of worry on her face.

"Do what?"

"Lean against that glass. You know I hate it when you do that."

"I do it all the time. Nothing's happened yet."

"I know, but I'm slightly stoned and I've had too much to drink. So, for the sake of my sanity, I will ask again. Please don't lean against that glass."

"I'm with her on this," Sarah said in a tone which wasn't quite serious but not playful enough for him to be sure. She was sitting opposite to Katarina.

Rowan looked at both of them in turn. Then he shook his head and sighed, standing up.

"Oh, so you'll move for her, but not for me?" Katarina asked, then laughed at his scowl.

"Hey, it's two against one here," Rowan said.

He stretched his back, out of no real need to, but rather as a way of delaying having to sit down. He had no idea which side to go for; Katarina's or Sarah's, and sitting against the door would have meant having to move every now and then if someone wanted to go through it. He was feeling too lazy for that.

Katarina solved the problem for him. She stood up. "I'm going to get another drink. Either of you want one?"

Rowan had already had a few shots and was beginning to sober up already. He shook his head and glanced at Sarah. Sarah was deep in thought.

"Sarah?" Katarina said.

"I don't know. I'm thinking."

"About whether you want a drink?" Rowan asked.

"It's a serious decision."

"I think you're drunk."

"Possibly."

"And it's nearly two in the morning. So maybe no more drinking?" Katarina sighed.

Sarah sighed with a feigned depressed expression. "Fine, fine! No more for me!"

"Good."

Katarina went inside while Rowan went to the opposite side wall to sit down but Sarah's voice stopped him.

"Rowan. Sit here." She moved over to the side, closer to the door, and patted the space next to her.

He felt awkward all of a sudden. It seemed easier if he didn't go near her so much; handling all the strange feelings in his slightly befuddled mind. He wanted to refuse, but he knew it would only draw attention, so quietly, reluctantly, he walked over to her side and sat down. She smiled at him.




The Quiet Friend Pt. 01



"Are you okay, Rowan?"

"Yeah. Why?" He kept his hands on his knees, noting one of her hands was settled on the floor between them.

"Well I mean after what happened tonight..." She trailed off, wondering whether this was a conversation worth having.

"Oh. You mean my date? Already forgotten," Rowan told her with a shrug.

"So quickly?"

"Like you said, she wasn't my type."

"Do you even have a type?"

Rowan shrugged.

"You must do," Sarah decided. "If I said that girl wasn't your type, then that must mean I have an idea of what I think your type is."

"... Sounds logical."

"Sounds it. I wonder if it is. I'm too whirly in my head to figure that out right now."

Rowan laughed.

"It'll be fine, y'know, Rowan?" She said in a serious voice after a moment of silence.

"What do you mean?"

"Well. I know out of everyone, you're the only one who hasn't actually got a... a..." Sarah trailed off again.

Her thoughts were rushing. What was she trying to say? That he would find someone one day? Why did that even matter at the moment? On top of that, she realised it could seem incredibly rude for her to go ahead and talk about this, to point out that he had no girlfriend and had not had a serious one for two years now. She'd seen him go out with at least one girl during the last year, but to her, it didn't count because it had only lasted a month. She'd seen that he made an excellent boyfriend, but the girl he was with was... quite frankly, not good enough for him. She'd been glad when it ended.

At the time, she was single. She and Greg had a rocky two months of separation before they decided to give it another go. She hadn't told anybody, but occasionally she still wondered if it was a good idea.

Unbeknown to both of them, Katarina had come back to the open door and was listening to them both silently from behind the cover of the curtain, thankful that Greg and everyone else had gone into the other room to play video games. She still wasn't sure what had made her want to stop and listen, but past events had given her suspicions and she could only surmise that it was this which had made her want to observe Rowan in the company of Sarah, with no one else around.

"Sarah?" Rowan said quietly.

Sarah looked at him. His face was expressionless. "Sorry," She said.

He frowned at what he thought was an unnecessary apology. "It's okay. What are you thinking about? What were you going to say?"

She didn't really want to say, but Rowan had become one of her closest friends and she was always honest with him if she could help it. "I was thinking about the fact that all of us are in relationships and you're not."

Rowan knew she meant all the friends who saw each other regularly. Aside from him, Greg and Katarina, there were two other friends, one male and one female, both of whom were attached.

"Why are you thinking about that?" He asked.

"I don't know."

"Oh."

There were several beats of silence. Katarina allowed herself to move forward a little, inching little by little until she could see both of them. She made sure to keep herself out of sight. She watched as Sarah put her hand on his and spoke, letting out at least one thing she had been wanting to say to him since his date had left.

"Rowan. You'll find someone, you know? There's no way you can't. You're intelligent and you're kind and you're selfless and you... you're just wonderful. You really are. You're too good for pretty much anyone I can think of..."

And Katarina saw it. Sarah was talking while she was staring into space and Rowan was watching her hand the entire time with a slightly pained expression on his face. Katarina sighed inwardly. The poor, sweet boy had feelings for Sarah.

Her suspicions confirmed, Katarina moved back behind cover again.

"I mean it, Rowan," Sarah was saying. "You won't be lonely for long. I know you feel it sometimes. I can see it. You should talk about it if you need to.

"I know," Rowan said in a faltering voice. Slowly, he slid his hand away from hers, and made a show of stretching his legs so she was forced to take her hand away from his knee. It wasn't until she had touched his hand with her own, that Rowan realised the extent of his feelings.

Katarina started suddenly, hearing Greg's voice shouting from the other room for Sarah. She heard Sarah answering that she would be there in a minute, and she moved away from the door, grabbing a bottle of beer as Sarah walked in.

"Hey, where did you get to?" Sarah asked.

"I had a go on one of the games the boys are playing."

"Ah. I wonder what Greg wants," Sarah sighed. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Yep." Katarina watched her leave the room and was about to go back out to the balcony when Rowan appeared in the doorway.

"Kat, I'm going home," He announced.

"Why?"

"I just need to go home. I don't feel right."

Katarina frowned. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No. Not particularly," Rowan said. Then realising his choice of words would provoke suspicion on her part, he added, "I mean, I just feel kinda out of it. Maybe I drank too much. I'll be fine tomorrow."

Katarina let the lie pass. She moved forward to hug him and kiss him on the cheek. He kissed her forehead in return and smiled as he walked away.

"Tell everyone I said goodbye. I don't feel like doing the rounds. And I'll call them at some point when we're all back home in London."

"I will."

He gave one final wave without bothering to turn around to look at her before he left. Katarina stared at the door, wondering whether to go after him. Sooner or later, she would have to talk to him about it. Reassure him she wouldn't tell anyone and be there for him if he needed it.

A few moments later, Sarah came back smiling and walked up to Katarina.

"Kat? Why aren't you outside? Where's Rowan?"

"He's gone home."

Her smile disappeared. "He has? But, he didn't even say goodbye." Sarah glanced out at the balcony as if to confirm Katarina's words.

"He asked me to pass on his goodbyes."

"Oh. Shit. Kat, I think maybe I upset him. We were talking about... stuff." Sarah wasn't sure if she could proceed.

"He's fine. He was just tired."

Sarah, grateful to Katarina for not asking what the conversation had been about, simply nodded.

"I should get going soon as well actually," Katarina said, taking a big gulp of her beer.

"Hold on, how is Rowan getting home? He can't drive, and the trains won't be running," Sarah said, the worry evident on her face.

"He'll manage. Don't worry about it. He's done it before."

Sarah was about to protest, but something in Katarina's expression stopped her. Instead she asked, "Did Greg tell him about this weekend? All of us driving back together?"

"He'll see you all in London."

"What do you mean? He isn't coming with us?"

Katarina shook her head. "And he said he'll call when you're all back there."

However, once they were all back in London, Sarah did not hear from Rowan for a couple of weeks. No one did.

... ... ... ... ...

"He better be in there."

Katarina looked at her. "He is. I rang Taz and he told me. He's been hanging around this bar once a week or so. Like I said, Taz works with him and he knows Rowan comes here because he's been here with him."

Sarah had a resolute look on her face. "Unto the breach, hmm?"

Katarina shrugged. "If you say so."

"Hey, you can look a bit more enthusiastic, you know? We discussed this. Rowan is avoiding all of us for some reason. We need to find out why we haven't seen him as much. We can't leave until one of us knows. Right?"

Katarina seemed more interested in a loose thread on her dress. "I know, I know. I just think you're overreacting a bit. Everyone's had stuff going on since we all started working."

"But we all still meet up twice a month!" Sarah couldn't understand why Katarina was so unconcerned about Rowan.

"When we can, yes. Some of us are more busy than others."

"I know. We went through this," Sarah said. "But Katarina, you agreed! Even you said Rowan seems like he's dropping away from us all."

"Yes. I suppose I did, didn't I?"

"Come on then!"

"Hmm. Okay." Katarina walked past her into the bar.

Sarah followed, thinking about what Katarina had said. She was sure she wasn't overreacting. Other than the fortnightly meetings they all had, Sarah had got into the habit of hearing from Rowan once or twice a week and on rare occasions, meeting up with him, sometimes with Greg coming along.

For the first couple of weeks after they had all come back to London, there had been no contact. Once they all settled into looking for work or starting temporary jobs, Rowan had appeared on the scene again. When Sarah had asked why he had not been in contact with anyone, he simply told her he needed space and did not elaborate, even when she asked several times for a more expansive explanation. She may have been worried at first, but soon it didn't matter because Rowan was joining in all the gatherings and everything was fine. Life went on for a while.

Then in the last few months or so, Sarah had noticed his demeanour changed again. He became more reticent. There was a quietness about him that grew more pronounced each time she saw him and then finally he began to attend the gatherings less and less, usually with excuses he was busy with work.

In Sarah's mind, however, was the memory of those first two weeks after university; Rowan's need for space and his reluctance to talk about it. The worry flared up again. When she mentioned it to Greg and some of the others, they all seemed unfazed by his change in behaviour and told her it was normal, that he had periods of withdrawing from people. She would have let it go, if it had not been for Katarina quietly admitting that this behaviour was a little unusual for Rowan. From that point on, she had to know what was going on.

Sarah didn't realise she had stopped at the doorway while thinking about all of this. She felt someone tapping her shoulder and turned to see a stranger standing, wanting to get past. Apologising, she moved out of the way, let him pass and then followed him into the bar, realising that Katarina had disappeared into one of the rooms.

The bar was split into three main areas. One area held pool tables and games machines. Another area held tables for people to sit and eat at, menus standing on each table centre and a few booths around the edges. The last area was simply a seating area with a door leading to an outside garden, complete with decking and a view of the street from a little higher up.

Sarah stood in the seating area and looked around for Katarina and Rowan. Seeing that neither of them were there, she decided to look outside in the garden, as it was late afternoon and quite a warm day.

While Sarah walked out into the sun, Katarina was already where the pool tables were. Rowan stood holding a cue, waiting for his turn in a game of pool he was playing with a friend.

He saw her approaching and raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing here?"

"That's a lovely greeting, Rowan."

Rowan moved to her and hugged her. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm just surprised. I've never seen you in this bar."

Once he let go, she said, "I found out about it from Taz."

"Oh." Rowan made a note to ask Taz not to reveal his location again.

"Rowan! Your shot," A tall, blonde man said to him with a gloomy look on his face. He'd just fouled.

Rowan nodded and moved to the table, asking Katarina, "So what prompted you asking Taz where I was? You could've just called."

"Sarah did."

Rowan, who just about struck the cue ball at the same time Sarah's name was said, watched as it went wide and hit his friend's ball instead of his own. His friend gave a short cheer and moved forward to take his free shot.

Rowan straightened up and looked at Katarina.

"I couldn't really stop her," Katarina said. "She's determined to find out why you're avoiding all of us."

Rowan raised an eyebrow. "I'm not avoiding anyone. I've been really busy at work."

Katarina glanced around the bar. "Your workplace has a very relaxed atmosphere."

Rowan rolled his eyes. "I'm taking a break. I'm going to be at work until ten or eleven tonight."

Katarina narrowed her eyes. "I can always tell when you're lying."

Rowan ignored that. It was his turn to take a shot. He took his turn while Katarina looked around, wondering where Sarah was.

"Sarah was right behind me a minute ago," She said in an offhand tone.

Rowan tensed up visibly. "She's here?"

"I told you, she's the one who thinks you're avoiding us. Quite frankly, I agree with her."

"I'm not avoiding anyone." His reply was automatic.

Katarina sighed. "Rowan, I already know."

"Know what?"

"That you have serious feelings for Sarah."

The effect was palpable; Rowan tried to shake his head but instead it came out as an extremely short fit of nervous twitches and a stream of stammering. But he could see it was useless to say or do anything. Katarina's expression said it all; she knew she was right and he knew nothing he could say would convince her otherwise.

"I won't say anything, Rowan."

After a few moments, Rowan gave her a defeated shrug.

"There you are!" A voice said behind both of them. They both turned to see Sarah approaching the pool tables.

There was a quick moment of panic where Rowan wondered if she'd heard anything Katarina said, but she gave no sign of the sort.

"Hi, Sarah," Rowan greeted her quietly.

"Hey. I was looking for you two. I want a word with you, Rowan."

"Oh?"

"You want to go sit down somewhere and catch up for a bit?"

Rowan glanced at his friend and Katarina. "I'm in the middle of a game of pool," He said to Sarah.

Sarah shrugged. "I'll wait."

Rowan's friend was waiting for him to take his shot, but said nothing. There was something about Katarina's presence that kept him quiet. Katarina took matters into her own hand. She took the cue from Rowan and walked over to the table.

"I'll play him," She said to Rowan, indicating his friend with the cue. "You go talk to Sarah."

Rowan looked at her, unable to say anything. He wanted to spend time with Sarah, even if he thought it was a bad idea. Part of him feeling grateful to Katarina for taking his choice away, another part feeling annoyed at her, he simply nodded and followed a smiling Sarah out through the door toward the seating area.

Rowan's friend, surprised by the turn of events, simply smiled at Katarina, taking note of how attractive she was. His smile disappeared however when Katarina looked at him and said, "I'm not single. So, unless you want me to put this cue in a very painful place in your body, I'd keep things friendly between us."

Rowan and Sarah ended up sitting opposite each other at a small table next to a large window overlooking the street. Rowan stared as the cars went by, somewhat aware that Sarah was looking through her bag for something.

Once she finished rummaging, she said, "I can't find my phone. I bet Greg's going to be annoyed when I see him later. He said something about wanting to call me around this time."

Rowan took out his phone and offered it to her. "Just call him from here and tell him you don't have your phone."

Sarah shook her head. "I'd rather not." She paused for a few moments. "Actually, Rowan, me and him are kind of having problems. We almost broke up last night."

Rowan kept his face expressionless, though inside he felt his heart-beat quicken and his emotions whirl a little. It was a stupid hope. If she and Greg ever broke up, it would mean there was a way forward for Rowan, down the path that led to her. But it was still a perilous path, because there was Greg to consider. All in all, it was just off limits as far as he was concerned, no matter how much he wanted it to happen. It was a hope that ultimately felt wrong, something for him to ignore.

He wanted to know why they had almost broken up, but he kept quiet, waiting to see if she would carry on speaking. Sarah, however, was looking out the window, at a couple who looked relaxed and happy in each other's company. It was several moments before Rowan cleared his throat.

Sarah jerked her head back to look at him. "Shit. Sorry, Rowan." A pause. "God, this is annoying. I came here to catch up with you. Talk to you. And all I'm doing is going off into my head."

"Just sounds like you need to talk about stuff."

Sarah shook her head. "No. I came here for a specific reason."

"What's that then?"

Just then a waitress came up to the both of them, asking if they wanted menus with an annoyed look on her face. Refusing the menus only made her look more irritated and Rowan hurriedly asked for a drink. The waitress left them to it.

"What's with her face?" Sarah asked.

"She always looks like that."

"Must be from Generation X; aimless, annoyed at her life and no idea what to do with it."

That comment sparked off a conversation about where exactly Generation X would be on a time-line and for a short while, Rowan felt a distinct comfort in just sitting here and speaking to her as if there was nothing else in the world.

The feeling stopped short when she suddenly asked, "Where have you been, Rowan?"

"What do you mean?"

"It feels like you've been avoiding me-- us. It feels like you have been avoiding all of us."

"I've been busy with work."

"I know. But, even Kat says this is unusual. You always make time for us. At least, you used to."

Rowan shrugged. "It's been a busy time at work. I've got a lot of side projects going on, too. I've been helping out a few friends with their coding and stuff."

Sarah looked at him for a moment, trying to gauge whether there was any way she could simply tell him she was worried without seeming like she was overreacting. She could not think of one.

"I'm worried about you, Rowan."

"Why? There's no need at all."

"We used to meet up and talk a lot. Now it feels like you're drifting away from us."

"I think you're being paranoid."

"I don't think I am. Kat doesn't think so either."

"Kat isn't infallible."

Sarah went for it. "There's something else. Do you remember for two weeks you ignored everyone's calls and texts when we got back from uni?"

Rowan nodded.

"You said you needed space. But you wouldn't tell me why."

Rowan had his suspicions about where this was going. "And?"

"Well. Now that you're seeing us less, it's making me think of that. I'm wondering if there's anything going on that you're not telling us about," Sarah told him nervously.

"And that's what's worrying you?"

"Yes."

"Sarah, there's nothing going on. I swear."

She stared for a few moments. "Fine, if you're not going to tell me, I'm not going to push it."

Rowan sighed. He hated seeing that disappointed look on her face. "Look. I'll make more of an effort to see you lot, how about that?"

"Really?"

"Really."

"And you'll talk to me if anything is going on?"

"If there is, yes."

"We are still friends, right?"

Rowan looked at her in surprise. The question was unexpected and only then did he realise the effect of his evasion on her. As painful as it was to be in her company, which only caused his feelings to grow; it had never occurred to him that she would feel the separation. Worse, that she would think it was a sign their friendship was diminishing.

"Of course we are, Sarah. That's a stupid question."

She was not quite satisfied with the answer; she'd wait to see if he put in more effort in seeing everyone, and her, but she let it go and smiled.

Glad that she was okay with him, Rowan took a gulp of his drink and hoped Katarina would appear soon.

"Y'know, I thought maybe you'd found a girl or something," Sarah said, making patterns on the table with her fingertip.




The Quiet Friend Pt. 01



"Why?"

"Just. I don't know. It was one explanation I could think of. You haven't seemed yourself. You're quiet. When I see you, you look like you're thinking about something a lot. You're spending your time elsewhere. One of the few things I could think of was that you had a girlfriend you weren't telling us about. Or, that you were thinking about a girl. I don't know. I know it's stupid."

She noticed Rowan's expression, however, and saw that perhaps she wasn't so far from the truth. Rowan looked a little alarmed and focused on a plant nearby. She couldn't know at that moment he was thinking of her and how much he needed to leave before his thoughts came crashing out.

"Rowan, am I right? I am, aren't I?"

He didn't even think of lying. "Not quite. I mean, I don't have a girlfriend."

"But you are interested in someone?" She asked quietly.

"It doesn't matter anyway."

"Why not?"

"There's no chance with her."

"What do you mean?"

"She's with someone else."

"Oh."

The temptation was so great to just tell her. Rowan kept his eyes on the plant. He didn't want to look at her long hair, the piercing blue eyes that always felt so penetrative to him and her beautiful body in that t-shirt with the neckline running across her clavicle. It always reminded him of the time he had seen her dance at Greg's birthday party.

"I think there's always a chance, Rowan. I mean it's not like she's engaged or married or anything. Is she?"

Rowan shook his head. "No. Just got a boyfriend."

"This is what's been bothering you all this time, Rowan?"

He looked at her briefly and shrugged. "I guess so."

"You must really like her then." There was something in her voice which made him look at her again. He couldn't quite read the look on her face.

He nodded. "She is pretty amazing."

"Tell me about her?"

"Not much to say. She's just..." He wanted to say she was perfect. But he said, "Just unavailable, that's all. I'll get over it."

"Have you told her how you feel?"

"What? No! How can I?"

"Simple. You tell her that you like her."

"It's not that simple."

"Not if you make it complicated."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Then explain it to me."

"She's got a boyfriend."

"So? Look. You can't just hide away like this. It's obvious you're into this girl. How else are you going to move on if you don't tell her; if you don't find out how she might feel or whatever?"

"She's got a boyfriend," Rowan repeated, as if that said it all.

"It might not be a good relationship. You never know. Right? Sometimes you have to think about yourself. And what you want or need."

"I'm not a selfish person."

"But you're too selfless."

Rowan rolled his eyes.

"I'm being serious here," Sarah said. "I love that you think about other people before yourself, but there's a limit. You're never going to be completely happy if you don't think about what you want once in a while and how to get it."

"I understand what you're saying but... it just doesn't work like that for me. I just think I'd rather be myself."

"Even if it makes you unhappy?"

"I'm not unhappy. I just don't have something I want. The want will go away. I'm not going to go around upsetting people for something like that." He was keeping his face and body language calm, trying not to show the nerves underneath.

Sarah shrugged. "Maybe you should for once. Get something you want. When was the last time that happened?"

"This conversation is pointless."

Sarah relented. "Yeah. Maybe it is. I just think... I just want you to be happy. I want you to be able to get out there and grab it. Just let go for one day and get out there and grab it."

That was more than enough. Rowan had to leave now, before he did something stupid. Standing up, he drained the rest of his glass. "I have to get back to work. I'm already running late. I was supposed to be back five minutes ago." It changed the atmosphere.

For a moment, Sarah thought she had upset him greatly. "But--"

"Sarah, I'm sorry. I really do have to go."

"... Okay. I'm sorry if I said something I shouldn't have." She looked hurt.

It weakened his resolve a little. He suddenly wanted to sit and speak to her some more. Instead, he shook his head with conviction. "Don't be silly. You've said nothing wrong. It's just a pointless conversation. I'll get over her. I have to."

"Will you talk to me about it the next time we see each other?"

"Yeah, maybe," He mumbled. "I have to go now. I promise I'll make the effort to see you soon, okay?"

"Okay."

There was one moment of quiet before Rowan simply gave himself permission to say goodbye in the way he wanted to. He moved forward and kissed her forehead, feeling the urge to move down and kiss her lips. Moving away he saw the smile on her face and the change in her mood.

"See you later, Sarah." And with that, he left through the nearest door.

Sarah watched him through the window until he disappeared from view, wondering who exactly he was interested in that could have made him so withdrawn.

... ... ... ... ...

Rowan was true to his word. He may have stayed quieter than usual, but he did turn up to gatherings over the next few weeks. Sarah was glad to see him there, though a part of her wondered continually how comfortable he was when he was with them. There was definitely a reluctance in him that was not there before and she wasn't the only person who realised.

One afternoon, they were all gathered at Katarina's parents' house for a late lunch. Katarina and her boyfriend, Gil, were cooking while everyone sat outside and in the kitchen. Her parents had gone away for a week and she was house sitting, something which set her a little on edge as she didn't quite like her family home.

Sarah and Katarina sat in the kitchen, along with Gil who was busy slicing up vegetables for a roast dinner. Tina, a slender girl and an old friend of Katarina, stood cutting up potatoes and generally ignoring everyone else in the room with a look of intense concentration on her face. Katarina watched her carefully, worried she was going to cut herself.

She stared so intently, it didn't go unnoticed by Gil, who looked at her grinning and said, "I might start taking that as an unhealthy interest in Tina."

"Unhealthy? Katarina asked with a raised eyebrow.

Gil shrugged. "That was probably the wrong word to use."

"I'm not going to cut myself!" Tina exclaimed suddenly, glancing at Katarina.

"You cut yourself last time," Katarina said.

"Leave her alone, Kat," Gil sighed.

Katarina scowled at him and looked at Sarah. Sarah was looking out of the window at the table in the back garden where the rest of the people sat. Greg was talking animatedly while the others laughed. All except Rowan, who merely smiled sometimes.

"Oi, Sarah. What's up?" Katarina asked.

"Hmm? Oh. Nothing. How long is the food going to take?"

"Hungry?"

"Kat, you told us all to eat nothing all morning. I'm starving."

"Another half hour or so. Not long. I promise."

"Half an hour!?" Gil exclaimed suddenly. "That's forever!"

"Don't be silly, Gil," Katarina said in a calm voice. "Forever is when I withhold sex from you for saying stupid things."

Tina burst into giggles amidst Sarah's smile and Gil's eyes rolling, but then suddenly squeaked loudly. Katarina stood up straight away.

"Tina?"

"I cut my finger."

"Oh, for fuck's--"

"Tina, let me have a look," Sarah got up and walked over to her. She looked at the finger and shook her head. "It's okay. It's a small cut. Just run it under cold water and we'll put a plaster on it."

Tina shrugged, glancing at Katarina while she walked to the sink. "I'm blaming this one on you, Kat."

Katarina flipped her middle finger at Tina, but smiled. A few minutes later, the food was nearly done and all of them except Katarina walked outside to join the others at the table. Sarah sat herself down between Greg and Rowan and began joining in with the conversation while occasionally trying to draw Rowan into it. He was reluctant and said very little, though he was polite as ever and looked more or less fine. Eventually she lessened her attempts to engage him and didn't notice he had slipped away to go to the kitchen until he was already at the door.

"Sarah, where'd Rowan go?" Greg asked her suddenly.

"Oh. Into the kitchen, I guess."

"You guess? I thought you were talking to him."

"Not really."

Greg shrugged and said to the friend across the table, "He's gone in."

The friend waved a hand dismissively and carried on talking about something else. Greg nodded a few times and Sarah completely lost interest in the conversation. She tapped on Greg's shoulder.

"I'm gonna go see what's happening with the food."

Greg nodded without much enthusiasm or attention and Sarah left the table, wondering if it was even worth the effort to have told him. She walked in through the door and toward the kitchen but stopped dead when she heard Katarina's voice.

"Rowan, are you sure you're okay? You don't seem like you're holding up very well."

Sarah moved to the side, slowly and silently, feeling a pang of guilt for eavesdropping but too curious to let the opportunity to learn something pass.

Rowan didn't answer. Sarah moved closer to the door. She stopped again when Katarina spoke, sounding quieter this time.

"Oh, Rowan. It's really bothering you, isn't it?"

"Nah. It's just. You know. I don't know."

"You feel a lot more strongly about her than I realised."

"... To be honest, more than I realised, even."

Sarah inched ever closer and stopped. She kept her breathing as quiet and as calm as she could, her heart beating a little faster. They were speaking of the girl he'd mentioned and for some reason it was bothering her to hear of it, perhaps because he hadn't said anything to her. Or was it something else? Sarah tried to dismiss her thoughts and concentrate on their conversation.

"What are you going to do?" Katarina asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, are you going to tell her or what? Or just carry on like this?"

Tell who? Sarah felt slightly frustrated all of a sudden. Silently she urged one of them to mention a name, or anything that would give a clue to who this girl was. It seemed important for some reason...

She got her wish.

And she had no idea whether it was something she wanted to hear.

"Don't be ridiculous, Katarina. I can't just go up to Sarah and tell her I'm crazy about her, can I?"

Sarah stopped breathing. She couldn't possibly have heard that. Yet already, her thoughts were rushing and she was losing focus on their conversation, instead entering into a world of memories in her head; memories of her and Rowan. Interactions they'd had, his evasion of her, all sorts of things. So many that it made it hard for her to focus on any one thing.

They were still talking. Sarah took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. She didn't know why it seemed to affect her so much knowing he had feelings for her, other than it was so unexpected.

"... a choice, Rowan?" Sarah heard Katarina saying.

"What choice?"

"The one between letting this go on in your head, or just telling her how you feel and moving on from it. This is stupid. You remember what happened the last time you felt like this about someone."

"Please don't bring that up."

"I'm not. I'm just... I'm just saying, I don't think you should stay quiet this time. Three years, Rowan. You didn't say anything to me for three years. And I felt the same way about you at one point. I don't want that to happen to you again."

Sarah heard Rowan sigh, her mind buzzing with Katarina's words. Did it mean Rowan once felt something for Katarina? When they were younger?

"That was different, Kat."

"How?"

"It just was."

"Yeah. How?"

Rowan's voice now had a touch of irritation to it. "Because you were single and I didn't feel nearly as strongly about you as I do about her. But the fact remains. She's with Greg. Off limits. My feelings are not important. At all. So just leave it. Please."

Not important? Sarah almost wanted to hit him. But she stayed frozen to the spot wondering what she wanted to do. Part of her was ready to walk in there and tell him she'd heard everything and the rest of her wanted to spare him. There was such a strange, almost plaintive quality to his voice that it kept her frozen from action.

"Fine. I won't say anything," Katarina said eventually. "Not that I ever would. If you're intent on torturing yourself, who am I to stop you?"

There was a pause. Then Rowan said, "Thank you."

Sarah made a split second decision. She walked back to the door leading to the garden quietly and then turned around, making plenty of noise before she walked to the kitchen. She entered, seeing Rowan leaning against the table exchanging a quick glance with Katarina before he looked at her and smiled briefly. Sarah smiled back, but it felt forced. Nothing on his face showed that he had been talking about anything remotely interesting or momentous. She wondered if that meant he truly believed his feelings were not important.

There was a passing moment of resentment towards him. How could he not talk about this? But then, she thought to herself, how could he? He was right. She was with Greg. There had been no indication on her part that she returned any feelings. Why would he ever jeopardise anything? And all this time, she'd been wondering why he was reticent and evasive. It was all because of her.

She tried to speak in an off-hand tone of voice. "Hey. I came in to check on the food, Kat. Nearly done?"

Katarina nodded. "Done, actually. You two want to help me take the food out?"

They both nodded, moving forward, almost into each other.

"Sorry," Sarah said in a faltering voice.

"Sarah? Are you okay?" Rowan asked, leaning toward her.

She nodded a little too quickly. She had no idea how she was. "Yeah. Fine. Fine."

Rowan and Katarina exchanged a quick glance but left it.

"You can take out the burgers, Sarah. And you take the vegetables," Katarina said, looking at Rowan. "Sarah, come back for the roast chicken after, will you? I'll bring the potatoes out with you then."

Sarah nodded, taking the burgers and the bread and walking out to the table followed by Rowan. Neither of them said anything. At the table, there were plates already laid out and all the friends cheered as they saw the approaching food.

"Finally!" Gil said as Sarah set the burgers on the table.

She rolled her eyes at him and looked at Greg, to remind him to dish her out two burgers while she went to get the roast chicken. She stopped herself when she looked down to see Rowan pushing a plate in front of her seat. It had two burgers on it and bread. She looked at him. He briefly met her eyes and looked away toward the door.

"I'll go get the rest of the stuff. You should sit down. It's fine," Rowan said, already making his way to the kitchen.

Sarah simply nodded. She watched him walk, almost in a trance, until he disappeared from view. When she turned to look at Greg, things suddenly felt very, very wrong.

... ... ... ... ...

She needed confirmation. It was a source of utter annoyance that somewhere in her head she wanted to hear him say it. She wanted him to admit to her how he felt about her and there was no way he would do it. She would have to approach him. It was a stupid idea. It was pointless. And yet, it had to be done.

She could not let go of it.

It was two weeks after the lunch and they were all heading into a nightclub in honour of Katarina's birthday. Sarah walked behind Rowan and Ashley. Ashley was her friend and she had invited her along as a date for Rowan. So far they seemed to be talking quite easily with one another and Sarah could feel herself growing uncomfortable about it with each passing moment. For the first time ever, she was feeling quite negative about Ashley. But it was her own fault for inviting her along.

Rowan and Ashley walked further on, on the edge of the dance-floor, near the corner of the bar while Katarina stopped with Gil just in front of the main counter where a barmaid stood, waiting for orders. Sarah stopped with them, still eyeing Ashley and Rowan.

"Sarah? Sarah!"

Sarah looked at Katarina.

"I'm asking if you want a drink?" Katarina said pointedly.

"Oh. Sure. Sorry. A white wine."

"Got it."

"I'll get these."

"No, don't worry about it. Get the next round. I'm getting these first."

Sarah nodded, not wanting to argue about it.

Gil caught her eye. "When did Greg say he was coming?"

"Oh. Not for at least another hour yet," Sarah told him.

"Work?"

"I think so. Something about seeing someone. Said he'd make his way over here after."

"That remains to be seen," Katarina said, handing her the white wine. Gil went to the counter to pick up his drink.

"He'll be here," Sarah assured her.

"Oh, I know. The question is when. But who cares? I've got you and Gil and Rowan here. That's more than enough on its own," Katarina said happily, downing her shot of whiskey.

Sarah smiled and moved to hug Katarina. When she let go, she looked at Rowan again. Ashley was actually touching his arm. Sarah frowned.

"They're getting along well," Katarina said.

"Yeah."

"She's a work friend?"

"No. School."

"Kat, I'm just going to go check out the arcade machines in the back," Gil was right beside them again.

"Okay, baby, have fun! Don't spend too much there. Please."

"How much is too much?"

"I don't know. About a quid?"

"It's R-Type! You know how hard that is! Gonna take me at least five quid to get to the third level," Gil protested.

"Whatever, Gil. Just come back soon. I expect my boyfriend to be hanging out with his girl on her birthday. Very soon."

He grinned, kissing her briefly on the lips and walking off.

"He only ever spends five quid to get to the third level, because he's so rubbish at it," Kat said, shaking her head. "Only takes me one life to get there."

"I didn't know you played video games," Sarah said.

"Only R-Type. It's only four levels, you know? It's notorious for being hard."

But Sarah was already not quite hearing anything Katarina was saying.

"Is something wrong with Ashley or something?" Katarina asked all of a sudden.

"What? Why would you ask that?"

"You keep looking at her."

"Oh. No. I was just thinking."

"What?"

"Well. Whether it was a good idea to introduce them to each other."

"But, they seem to be getting along quite well."

"Yeah..."

"So what's the problem?"

Sarah shrugged. "I dunno. Nothing, I suppose."

"Are you sure?" Katarina asked with narrowed eyes.

Sarah had a moment of panic. It was as if Katarina was asking something more than just for certainty. Sarah briefly wondered if Katarina had suspicions about having been overheard on the day of the lunch. She nodded in answer to her question, opting for the belief that Katarina couldn't possibly suspect anything like that.

"I just want it to work out between them, that's all," Sarah said, realising she wasn't quite being truthful.

She felt bad knowing she wanted it to not work between Rowan and Ashley. Ashley was probably not good enough, but even as she thought this, she was beginning to realise it wasn't entirely true. It wasn't anything to do with Ashley really. Feeling more confused than ever, not wanting to think about it, Sarah turned toward the bar and walked to it, leaning her body against it at an angle.

Katarina leaned against the bar next to her. "There's always an element of risk entering into a relationship. Besides it's not even certain that they're going to try dating after this."

"That's true."

"I hope it works out, though. He deserves that."

"Yes."

"It's all good, Sarah."

Sarah said nothing. She was watching them again and in her head, those thoughts came back. The urge to know; the need to hear him say it. So an hour or so later, after a bit of dancing and more drinking, she pulled him to the side of the bar.




The Quiet Friend Pt. 02



To the readers...

First of all, a HUGE, HUGE apology for the time it has taken for this part to be completed. I have little excuse other than I've been busy with studying and generally ended up lacking motivation for this part. Until I received emails asking about it; after that it was mostly problems with actually getting it out the way I wanted it.

I can say this much; from this point on, I won't be uploading any new material (if it is long enough to be split into parts) unless I have completed every part or am in the final editing process for the final part. This way I can ensure I don't end up taking forever to finish off a story. I'd hate for anyone to wait a long time for anything new again; I know I'm quite impatient when it comes to things like that.

I currently have several one off pieces of fiction being written, which I plan to upload to Literotica, but I won't give a time-frame, since I have busy times ahead with academic work.

I strongly recommended reading the first part before this one, otherwise it won't make much sense if you're a new reader. But I do recommend that the first part be read again for anyone else, since it might be a good reminder of what went on before; it has been a long time between parts after all.

A massive thanks again to LadyFalcon for editing for me and helping me fix mistakes and grammar, etc. Any remaining mistakes and oversights will be entirely my own fault. Also, a thank you to her for kicking my arse into gear about getting this part written.

I hope you all enjoy...

Cc

... ... ... ... ...

Her heart burst into joy as she felt him lean forward and then the joy was washed away by the intense longing for more as their lips pressed together. He had to have felt it as well because his fingers were slowly creeping into her hair as his hands cradled her face.

Rowan couldn't be aware of anything else right now except how soft her mouth felt, how much of her urging he could feel in her lips pressing against his, the quick flicker of her tongue over them.

He didn't know how long the kiss lasted; he was far too into experiencing her body against his and her hands firmly on his neck and jaw, but an endless second or so later, he moved back. He looked slightly surprised and he was breathing hard. It took him a moment to realise his hand was higher up on her body than he thought. He had no memory of moving it, much less any conscious awareness of holding her head. He looked at it and then let it drop.

"That... was not a good thing to do," Rowan said quietly, but it was clear he had no conviction in the statement.

But Sarah was already nodding her head, her breathing calming down a little. She was grinning widely as she glanced at his hand, wondering how he would react if she took it and put it on her breast this time. "That was definitely a good thing to do. And I want to do it again, and again."

Rowan looked at her. In that moment her warm smile was blazing and her eyes had never before looked so... focused on him. His body was already straining to move forward again just for another kiss; maybe just one more. However, with great effort, he forced himself backwards.

"I think... no," Rowan said quietly. Then a moment later, he added, "Not right now."

Her eyes widened at the implication of that and she smiled broadly again. He gave a quick, small smile, not wanting to reveal too much of his feelings. The truth was, he didn't want to go anywhere and the more he stood there, the more the urge was growing, to kiss her lips again, to move down to her neck and over her shoulders, to begin slipping off that top of hers...

"I have to go, Sarah."

"Where?"

"To Greg."

"What? But--"

"Sarah, please. Just listen," Rowan said in a whisper. "If... What I mean is, when things happen. I need it to start off properly. Not behind anyone. Not behind Greg's back. I need to talk to him about this."

Sarah regarded him for a few moments before sighing. "And if he doesn't like the idea of it?"

"He's my friend," Rowan answered simply.

"What does that mean, Rowan? Does that mean you'll step aside and not do anything? You won't go for something you really want?" She paused. "And this time someone shares your feelings, and you know it. This isn't like Katarina."

Rowan's eyes widened.

"I heard everything, remember? Katarina said that you'd had a thing for her for three years. At least that's what it sounded like."

Rowan nodded. "... Yeah. That's right."

She looked at him directly in the eyes. "I don't... I don't want this to not happen."

He looked at his phone. There was a text message waiting from Greg. He looked at her again. "If he's my friend, then he'll... I don't know. He'll understand. I think." She didn't look like she believed him. Rowan shrugged. "I have to do this, okay?"

Despite not wanting to, she nodded.

"You should go to Katarina's. She's home from work for a week or something. You'll be able to stay there. She'll be fine with it."

Sarah hesitated.

He seemed to read her mood and added, "At least that way I'll be able to contact you and you'll be nearby."

She nodded and moved to get her things.

"I'm going to have a shower, and then go," Rowan said.

"Okay," She said, stopping to look at him. "You will come and see me, right?"

"I will."

"What about immediately after you're done talking to Greg?"

Rowan was silent for a moment. "I don't know. I don't know how long he's going to expect me to be there."

"Hmm, okay. Tomorrow you'll come over, at least?"

That was far later than he wanted to see her, but he nodded. "Tomorrow at the latest. I promise."

That seemed to reassure her a lot and she moved to the phone with ease, while Rowan watched her for a moment before moving off to have a shower. Once in the bathroom he found himself staring at himself in the mirror, at that small smile playing on his lips as he thought of the kiss. He glanced at the door, wanting nothing more than to rush back into the living room and kiss her again, but he resisted the urge.

Part of him was in disbelief that she had initiated the kiss; it already felt like a vivid dream, but there was the ghost of the memory still on his lips. Even just the thought of it made him harden a little.

Shaking his head at himself, he looked at the door again. It'd be easy. He would simply have to open it, walk over to her and put his arms around her...

Then the thought of Greg came into his head. This was why he was in here; he had to get ready and go. His smile disappeared and feeling heavy in his chest, he got into the shower, making sure he spent a while in there so that she would be gone by the time he came out.

He didn't expect to see the little note she had left scrawled on a small piece of paper sitting in the middle of the coffee table.

In her neat, curly writing, it said: "Had to leave straight away. Not sure I would have let you go. X."

Rowan's mood after that on his way to meet Greg was nothing short of ecstatic.

... ... ... ... ...

Sarah's imagination was on fire. On her way to Katarina's flat, the kiss was replaying itself over and over in her mind. She had done her share of kissing different people, but never before had there been this lingering feeling, as if his lips were still touching hers. There had been something tentative about the kiss, before it grew with passion and it was the gentle initial touch that lingered most. It was not long before her mind moved on from the kiss and began to imagine many other scenarios she wanted to play out with him; many other forms of touch fuelled by passion. There'd be time for that, she thought to herself.

She reached Katarina's flat and knocked on the door. It opened almost immediately.

"Sarah," Katarina said in a level voice in an attempt to downplay the curiosity and emotion on her face. "Hi. So, what happened? You broke up with Greg? And then?"

"Slow down, Kat, let me come in first at least," Sarah said, moving past her and smiling.

"You were at Rowan's when you called."

"I know."

Katarina shut the door. "So, I think I'd like to know what's going on. Why were you there? You said something happened."

"I kissed Rowan," Sarah said as she sat down on the sofa in the living room.

"You did what?" Katarina asked. The surprise in her voice was palpable.

"I kissed Rowan."

"Oh. Well, that's certainly unexpected."

Sarah sighed and bit her bottom lip. "Do you think it's stupid that... I think for a long while now, I've felt something for him but I never seemed to realise it?"

Katarina shrugged. "Not really. Some people are just stupidly oblivious to some things."

"Stupidly?"

Katarina rolled her eyes. "What made you realise?"

Sarah thought for a moment. "When he told me. Then when he left the club with Ashley. That night we were out for your birthday."

"He told you?"

"Well... more or less. I sort of, made him tell him."

A questioning looked crossed Katarina's face.

Sarah realised then that Katarina had no idea she had been overheard that day when they all had lunch. "Kat, I heard you and him talking. In the kitchen, when we were at your parents' for lunch that day, when your parents were away. You remember? I came in and ended up taking some of the food out."

"I remember..."

"I was actually there and heard you two talking for a few minutes before that."

"Ah. You were eavesdropping." Sarah was about to protest the use of that term but Katarina waved it off and carried on. "Then, what do you mean by you made him tell you?"

"Well, I couldn't let it go. When I was at the club, I realised that everything about it was bothering me. I felt like I had to hear it from him, straight from his mouth."

To Sarah's surprise, a disapproving look appeared on Katarina's face. "So when you say you made him tell you, you mean what exactly? That you forced it out of him?"

"Well, I suppose so."

The disapproving look deepened. "Why would you do that, Sarah?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well you know what he's like. How quiet he can be. Didn't it occur to you how painful it might be for him to have to do that?"

Sarah opened her mouth to reply but nothing came out. Suddenly the severity of the act seemed to hit her. The memory of the time, she realised, seemed different now. When it was happening, she had simply been focused on the thought of hearing what she needed to hear, but it hadn't really fully entered her mind what the experience would have been like for Rowan, and with deepening anxiety, she realised Katarina was right.

"Kat-- I just-- I don't know. I had to hear it. I mean, he's spent so much time hiding away things like that. He never even told you how he felt about you! I had to be sure."

"If you heard everything he and I were talking about at my parents' place, there couldn't have been any doubt. And as for not telling me, things were different back then. On top of that, he was different. I was different. You knew that he had feelings for you. And... Sarah, no offence, but you are one oblivious girl."

Sarah frowned. "What do you mean?"

"It was obvious to me how much he felt for you by the time we graduated. How can you not have seen for the last few years, he's been carrying a torch for you? It isn't just obvious to me, but even Tina mentioned something."

"Really?"

"Really!"

Sarah sighed and frowned. "Oh."

"The way he acts around you. The things he did."

"I thought he was just being Rowan..."

"He was. But he was being more Rowan than usual, if that makes sense," Katarina said quietly.

There was a pause as Sarah took in Katarina's words. Her thoughts were racing. She really had given no thought to the effect the confession would have on him; the guilt and anxiety she put him through. She felt horrible for a moment. Then she said, "It could have gone a lot worse, couldn't it? If I forced it out of him. He could've ended up really resenting me."

Katarina nodded. "Exactly. Now you get it."

"I'll apologise to him as soon as I can."

"And don't do it again."

Sarah looked Katarina in the eye. Katarina's expression was resolute and it reminded Sarah, not for the first time, that Katarina was probably closer to Rowan in some ways than any of the rest of the group. But Sarah had her own connection to him.

"I couldn't deal with him hiding, Katarina. I know that sounds bad and I really was being selfish but, if he'd never told me, I don't think I could've acted. I had to know," Sarah said quietly.

Katarina stared at her for a moment and then nodded once. "Fine. I suppose since he didn't react unfavourably, it means maybe you're the one who can push him like that. Just don't make it a habit."

"You have my word."

There was a beat of silence as Katarina nodded her approval again and then asked, "So tell me, how was it?"

"How was what?"

Katarina sighed. "The kiss, Sarah! The kiss! What else?"

Sarah grinned. "More than I expected. God, Kat, I wanted to just... strip him right then and there and--"

"Woah! Before you insert images into my very effective imagination, we'll stop there. I get the point. It was good."

Sarah laughed suddenly, relaxing at the comfort in the environment now. "Yes. It was good."

... ... ... ... ...

He had no real expectations of how Greg would be behaving or feeling. In his experience, Greg had often brushed off the end of a relationship, especially if he had been the one to end it, but this was a situation new to Rowan, as Sarah had ended it and they had been together for longer than any of Greg's previous relationships.

His nervousness growing with each step toward the pub, Rowan found himself trying to think of excuses to leave early, and then ways in which he could be honest with Greg and tell him how he felt about Sarah.

But he couldn't be sure. Was this really the right time to be talking about anything like that? Or admitting feelings he shouldn't have? Rowan stopped for a moment. There was no 'shouldn't' about it. His feelings were his feelings; not something to dismiss. He carried on walking, realising he could see no way in which a conversation like that would end pleasantly for all concerned.

Before he knew it, he was outside the pub, trying to fight down the horrible twinge of anxiety in his chest. Greg was already inside and had started drinking. Rowan could see him from where he stood, along with the two full time bar staff he had got to know over the years. Gulping, Rowan stepped into the pub.

The full time bar staff were a man and a woman and both looked toward him with a quick wave as he walked in. Rowan returned their acknowledgements and walked over to where Greg stood, holding a glass in his hand.

"Rowan, about time you got here, you little bastard."

Rowan raised an eyebrow. "You're obviously in a good mood."

Greg flashed a grin and shrugged. "What do you want to drink?"

"Water."

"Water!" Greg looked at him, his mouth open. He looked at the barman and shook his head. "You hear that, Denny? He wants water!"

"S'not a good night for water, Rowan," Denny said, rolling his eyes.

"Why's that then?" Rowan asked. He knew already, of course, but in the brief phone call along the way to the pub, where Greg had rung to see where he was, he had not mentioned the break up. He would want to announce it in person for greater effect. It was a ritual of sorts.

"You know why you're here, Rowan?" Greg asked with long gulp of his cider.

"You wouldn't tell me over the phone," Rowan answered simply, taking his place next to Greg at the counter while Denny passed him a glass of water.

"I can tell you now, if you like," Greg said with a shrug.

Rowan wondered for a moment if this was a sign that Greg was more upset than he was letting on, but any thoughts of that disappeared when Greg turned around to see a group of women come into the bar and smiled openly.

For a moment Rowan hated him. "Go on then, Greg. Why am I here?"

Greg glanced at him. "Sarah broke up with me."

He was expecting himself to have mixed feelings upon hearing that, but there was nothing. It was as if he had just seen his friend state a simple fact and that was the end of it. Rowan watched Greg calmly as he openly stared at the group of women who by now had made their way to the counter, around the bend where it led off toward the back seats of the bar.

"God, they're beautiful," Greg said more to himself than Rowan.

"You just broke up with Sarah," Rowan said quietly.

Greg looked at him. "And? Come on, Rowan, you know me. I don't take any of that stuff seriously."

"You were with her for over two years, Greg."

"On and off, sure. So?"

"And that's it?" Rowan asked, incredulous at his friend's lack of emotion.

"What were you expecting? For me to burst into tears?" Greg asked with a short round of laughter. He was obviously already affected by the alcohol.

In Rowan, a whole range of emotions clashed against each other. If Greg didn't care then did he really have anything to worry about? Though, wasn't there some sort of rule about this situation? Never go with your friends' exes...

"I don't know, Greg. You were with her for a while. I don't know what to expect anymore."

"Shit happens," Greg shrugged.

"She broke up with you?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

Greg was unusually thoughtful for a moment. Then he grinned and shook his head. "Because it was going to end anyway. She just got there first."

"Is that the truth?" Rowan asked.

Greg looked at him. "It was kinda fizzling out anyway. So I guess it wasn't much of a surprise. One thing after another. Anyways, it doesn't matter now. I'm free again."

Rowan watched him take another long gulp of his cider and thought about his words. Kara, the barmaid came to them briefly while he tapped his glass with his fingernail, wondering what to say next. The only thing that seemed to happen on these nights is that Greg would get drunk and occasionally end up taking someone home.

"Alright, Rowan? Been a while," Kara said quietly. She gestured to Greg. "What's up with him?"

"Broke up with his girl."

"Oh."

"How about you, Kara?" Greg looked at her suddenly with a charming smile. "Willing to give a lonely guy some company tonight?"

"Yeah, I am as it happens," Kara answered with a straight face. Rowan looked up at her in surprise. Then he started laughing when she said, "He's waiting at home for me." She winked at Greg and walked off to serve a customer.

Greg laughed, more at himself than anything else. He glanced at the group of women again. Rowan saw one of them already looking over to Greg, showing interest. He found it so easy, but Rowan supposed it helped that Greg was a very good looking young man.

"Greg? I have something to talk to you about."

Greg looked at him. Rowan felt even more nervous all of a sudden, but this had to be done. That kiss was still lingering in his memory and it wasn't as if Greg was all that upset about what had happened. In fact, he'd more or less admitted that the break up was inevitable and he was already looking for another girl.

"What's up?"

"It's about Sarah."

Greg's face was still expressionless. "What about her?"

"She came over earlier. Told me about the break up."

That sparked off a little interest in Greg. "Oh. So you already knew, huh?"

"She told me."

"Hmm. Figures. Is that it?"

Resisting the urge to simply nod, Rowan said, "No, not quite."

"What else, then?" Greg asked, already becoming more focused on the girl from the group.

Rowan could think of no other way to state it. "She kissed me. And I kissed her back."

There was a period of stillness where Rowan was aware that even the rest of the bar seemed to have quietened and it enhanced the look of pure confusion and then anger on Greg's face, which then led to the sight of his fist rapidly approaching. Before Rowan was even aware of it, he was on the floor, blinking and looking up at the ceiling with his hand on his lower lip, wincing with hot pain and feeling slightly dizzy.




The Quiet Friend Pt. 02



Rowan looked up to see Denny standing between him and Greg, his voice raised and his body threatening as he kept Greg where he stood. Greg had his hands up, shaking his head with an expression of what was obviously regret though at the moment Rowan wasn't sure he'd accept it so readily. Then Kara's face appeared above him, full of concern and with her hand out to help him up.

"Rowan? Hey, are you okay?" Kara was asking.

He stood up, feeling slightly dizzy, more from shock than any injury. He brushed Kara away, stating he was fine and he just wanted to be alone and with a final glance at Greg, he walked out of the bar to find somewhere to sit down. He settled on a bench a few yards away and stared into space, prodding at his lip. It felt wet. He looked down at his hand and found it was covered in blood. He groaned and shook some of it off, causing a spatter pattern to appear on the pavement in front of him.

What was he supposed to do now? Greg clearly hadn't reacted favourably, Sarah was still at Katarina's waiting for him and he couldn't see any way in which this situation could resolve in an amicable manner.

Rowan groaned with pain. Did he even care anymore about how it ended? There only seemed to be one clear goal in his mind, and that was Sarah. Katarina was right. Sarah was right. He never went for what he wanted, like so many other people around him. Perhaps now it was time he did.

"Rowan? Where the fuck are-- Oh. There you are."

Rowan turned to his right to see Greg walking toward him slowly, holding something in his hand. He looked up and saw the full moon was out, before looking to his right again as Greg sat down, offering the ice pack in his hands.

Rowan took it, almost grudgingly and put it to the swelling cut on his lip.

"I hit you hard, didn't I?" Greg asked, looking at Rowan's mouth.

Rowan grunted and shrugged. "Certainly did the job. Fucking hurts."

"Sorry about that."

Rowan looked at him. "Really?"

Greg scowled. "Of course. But don't expect me to apologise again. That's all you're getting out of me."

Rowan looked at the pavement again, his eyes tracing the lines of the spatter of blood spread out in front of them.

For a short while there was silence between the two of them, neither being sure of what to say. Then Greg asked a question that took Rowan by surprise. "So how long has it been going on with you and her?"

"What?"

Greg looked him in the eye. "I said, how long--"

"Yeah. I heard. What kind of a stupid question is that?"

Greg looked insulted. "Hang on, you come into the pub earlier and tell me you two kissed and you're asking what kind of question that is?"

"Yeah. Because that's all that's happened. I've done nothing with her. I don't know if you've noticed, Greg, but I've spent as much time as I could avoiding all of you altogether. That includes her."

Greg was silent for a moment. "So that's why you haven't been around as much?"

"I'm not you, Greg. I didn't do anything."

"I resent that remark," Greg said with a roll of his eyes.

Rowan, however, ignored that movement with a look bordering on a glare. "Of course you do. But you know as well as I do, nothing would stop you from getting it on with someone already taken. Don't forget, I know you slept with a couple of girls that time in uni when you and her were broken up for a couple of months."

"We weren't together at the time!"

"I know, but one of those girls was not single."

Greg sighed, ignoring that statement and instead, said, "So nothing happened."

"Nothing. I've never said anything to her and even when she found out about my feelings, I pretty much ignored her after that. I wouldn't do anything like that to you."

"... I know."

"Then why the fuck did you punch me? I'm assuming that's the reason you did."

"I lost control, okay? I shouldn't have done that. I just... I don't know."

"Hmm. I don't know why you care anyway. You said you were heading towards breaking up with her."

"..."

"Or is it the fact she did it first?"

Greg looked at Rowan. "What is this? Are you deliberately trying to make me feel worse or something?"

Rowan shrugged. "Maybe. I've got every right to."

"Okay, so things weren't going great with me and her. I still didn't need to hear that you two kissed on the night after we broke up."

"Would you have preferred that I kept the truth from you?"

"... No. I suppose not."

"At least I'm honest. I can think of a dozen different people who wouldn't give you the same courtesy."

Greg said nothing, already thinking of the uncomfortable truth that he probably fit quite easily into the same category of that dozen or so different people.

There was another long pause as Rowan's thoughts rushed through his head, slowing down bit by bit until he realised there were things he wanted to say, to make sure that Greg knew; things that suddenly held no fear for him. He'd already been punched and things were now going better than he would have expected. He took a deep breath.

"I don't know how you feel about her, Greg, but the fact is, I'm crazy about her. I really am. And I think she feels the same way. And I haven't done anything to betray you. Unless all of this right now counts. But I don't care anymore. I'm sick of holding back. I'm not letting this go, whatever you say or however you feel. I deserve that much," Rowan said quietly.

To his surprise, Greg let out a short laugh.

"What?"

"Nothing. I was just thinking," Greg said, looking up at the sky. "Do you know what the lot at school would call you when you weren't around?"

Rowan shifted position, feeling a momentary discomfort. "What?"

"The quiet friend. My quiet friend. The one who'd just go along with everything. Who never said anything. If only they could hear you now."

Rowan thought about this for a moment.

"I'm sorry for punching you," Greg said, with a deep serious tone to his voice this time.

"It's okay."

"Hmm." He looked as if he was about to say more, but decided against it, opting instead for a meaningful look of regret.

"I know," Rowan said. He realised Greg was doing his best.

"I know you didn't do anything. And I'm glad you told me."

Rowan felt even more uncomfortable now. It was rare to hear anything so serious come out of Greg's mouth.

"And you're right. It wasn't headed anywhere. I really did like her though, for a while."

"Well. We all figured. You were with her for a long time."

"Yeah... Just don't expect me to feel comfortable about this for a while; if it's all the same to you."

"I won't," Rowan said seriously. Then he added, "Everything has its time."

"Like you finally growing a pair of bollocks?"

"Fuck off," Rowan said shortly, though he couldn't quite suppress the small smile on his face, and the small grimace of pain as his split lip moved.

Greg grinned. "How's your lip?"

"Hurts."

"Hmm. So what now?"

"I don't know. You already know where I stand."

Greg nodded. "Yeah. I do. I guess this night is pointless. You might as well go back to her. I've got all those ladies in the bar waiting for me anyway. I could always go back in and tell them you stole my girlfriend, see if that gets me anywhere."

Rowan looked at him, wide eyed at first. "You mean, you're okay with... well... you know."

Greg shrugged. "Like I can stop you." Rowan was about to speak when suddenly Greg put his head in his hands and mumbled, "Oh God, here she comes."

Rowan raised an eyebrow, looking to his left and saw Katarina walking rapidly toward them. "What? How is she--"

"Kara rang her up right after you walked out of the bar. She said Katarina would sort us out. I swear, people don't give me enough credit sometimes," Greg said quietly so that Katarina wouldn't hear.

She stopped right in front of them with a bewildered look on her face. She looked down at the blood spatter, then at Rowan, before finally turning to Greg and proceeding to slap his head and crying out, "You absolute, fucking prat!"

Greg stood up immediately, moving away and keeping his hands between her stinging slaps and his head. "God, Kat, just stop! I've already said sorry to him!"

She stopped and looked at Rowan. "Are you okay?"

Rowan, who was laughing quietly by now, half wincing from the pain, simply nodded his head.

"Let me see what he did."

"It's fine, Katarina, honestly."

"Rowan, show me your lip before I punch the other side of your mouth."

Rowan moved the ice pack away to reveal a swollen lip and the flesh underneath already turning darker.

"You're bruised and bleeding," Katarina announced.

"Hardly surprising."

She looked at Greg, who still stood cautiously out of her reach. "I can't believe you hit him."

"We've sorted it out," Greg said, though he made no movement toward her.

She raised an eyebrow and looked at Rowan, who nodded in confirmation. "Why did you hit him anyway?" Katarina asked, looking at Greg again.

"No reason, really."

She narrowed her eyes at him.

"I told him that Sarah kissed me," Rowan sighed.

Katarina spun around in fake surprise. "What? She did?" She looked between the two of them.

"It's fine!" Greg said. "Can I sit down now? Or are you going to hit me again?"

"... Sit down, if you want."

Greg moved to the bench again, keeping his eyes on Katarina and she sat down on the other side of Rowan. There was a long pause where none of them said anything, all thinking of different things.

"She kissed you," Katarina said eventually, trying to maintain a certain modicum of surprise. As far as she was concerned, revealing she had already spoken to Sarah and knew about this was not going to go down well with Greg.

"She did."

"And you're fine with this," She said to Greg.

Greg shrugged. "I wouldn't say I'm fine with it. But whatever. If that's how things go."

Katarina sighed. "So I came all the way out here for nothing."

"The pleasure of our company isn't enough?" Greg asked.

Katarina ignored that and looked lost in thought before glancing at Rowan. "... She's at my place right now, Rowan."

"I know," Rowan nodded. Then he looked at her. "If she's there, then why are you asking about--"

"She didn't say anything to me. So, if she's there; what are you doing here?

Rowan stared. "That is a brilliant question." Without another moment's thought, he stood up and began to walk toward Katarina's flat until one last thing occurred to him.

He turned around to look at Greg. "You're not really going to go in there and tell them I stole your girlfriend, are you?"

"Of course I am. How else do you expect me to justify the fact I punched you?"

"That's disgusting."

Greg smiled. "No. It's me being consistent. Now fuck off, will you?"

Rowan nodded. "Thanks."

"I'll see you next week?"

Hardly believing he was still willing to maintain the friendship, Rowan simply nodded and without saying anything else, he left them both to it.

They watched him walk away. Greg sighed and looked at the bar. "You coming in, Kat? I could do with a wingman. Or should that be wingwoman?"

She gave him a serious look in reply and said, "That was a good thing you did. He was really worried about what you'd think."

Greg returned that look. "I know I'm an arsehole, but it doesn't mean I don't recognise good people."

"Evidently so."

"Anyway, there's a beautiful woman waiting inside who was obviously giving me the eye. So, I'm going back in," Greg told her, standing up. "You coming?"

Katarina glanced down the street, all too aware that Rowan would want time alone with Sarah. She stood up and began walking toward the bar. "Come on, let's go get drunk."

... ... ...

He winced when he touched his lip again. The cut didn't seem so bad now that he was more focused on the fact he was standing outside Katarina's flat.

The front door opened and Sarah came out slowly, looking at him. His heart was rocketing and his body felt warm already. She was frowning at him as she walked along the pathway from the door leading to the pavement.

"Rowan? What the hell happened to your lip?"

Rowan smiled. "Greg punched me."

"What?!" She moved right up to him and looked at his lip, frowning. "The bastard."

"It's okay--"

"Don't defend him, Rowan. This is beyond the pale."

Rowan wasn't even listening. She was right up close to him, her head tilted as she studied his lip closely. It exposed one side of her long neck to him. She said something about the cut not looking too bad, but he didn't really register it because he was staring at her neck and then, he was moving toward it.

He kissed it. It was such a brief, light kiss and he froze. She froze too, unsure of what had just happened. Rowan's lips were still near her skin and he was sure she could feel his breathing on her neck.

She moved forward slowly, her neck making contact with his mouth and he kissed it again while her head came to rest against his cheek. His kisses were light and brief to stop it from hurting his lip, though Rowan probably wouldn't have noticed too much. Even just having her neck so close was intoxicating.

"Ohhh, Rowan..." Her arms were around his neck now and for a few moments, they were just holding each other, swaying ever so slightly.

Then she moved back and put her hands on either side of his jaw. Before either of them had time to think, they were kissing again. Rowan could feel his pulse pounding in his neck while he dived into the sensation of her full bodied lips on his, her mouth hungrily seeking him out as she pulled him against her body, only breaking the kiss when they could no longer breathe. He winced overtly enough for her to notice, the pain only noticeable now that she had moved back. The ache was a pulse in his lip and the area around it, but strangely it seemed as though during the kiss it had become mingled with pleasure.

Breathing hard, she looked worried for a moment. "Oh shit, Rowan. Sorry! It's still pretty painful, huh?"

"A little. We'll just have to be... softer."

She grinned and in way of an apology, touched her lips to his again, like a brushing feather ending with a bit of pressure that only left him wanting more.

Moving back, she asked, "What happened? What about Greg?"

Rowan grinned in a way he was sure made him look silly, but feeling so ecstatic, he didn't care. "Who cares? You're mine."

That provoked a more powerful reaction in her than he was prepared for. She grabbed his shirt and pulled his body toward her, kissing him deeply again, before moving back when hearing his moans.

"Fuck, I keep forgetting."

He laughed.

She looked around at the cars parked on the side of the road. "How did you get here?" She asked.

"Walked."

"Oh. Shit. Well. You can drive Katarina's car, right?"

"I'm not on her insurance. We could just walk--"

Sarah shook her head. "No. Do you have any idea how much I've been wanting you to come back?"

"Uh. A lot?"

She kissed him on the lips again, lightly this time. Then holding onto his hand, she pulled him toward the open front door. As soon as they were inside, she shut the front door and pushed him against it, her lips playing along his mouth and along his jawline.

Rowan closed his eyes, feeling the softness drag along his flesh, her hands squeezing his fingers and her body pressed against him. Her hands came up to the sides of his neck and she nuzzled it, before dragging the tip of her tongue up to the underside of his jaw, ending it with a little nip. He half snorted-half chuckled at the sensation. She smiled suddenly, realising this was really happening. It was physically happening and soon she could just completely let go with him.

She closed her eyes for a few moments, simply leaning against him. Her face rested against his cheek and her fingers could not be still; she was stroking his neck.

"Sarah?"

"Yeah?"

"Everything okay?"

She opened her eyes and looked at him. First she had things to say, before she carried on. Katarina's words had weighed heavy on her mind after she was left alone in the flat.

"Rowan, at the club, when I made you tell me how you felt about me..."

"Yeah?" He asked, frowning slightly in confusion.

"I'm sorry. I spoke to Kat and she made me realise how hard that could've been for you. How hard I pushed you."

He shook his head. "It's okay. If you hadn't done that, for all I know, we wouldn't be here right now."

"I don't know about that... I did hear you and Kat, after all."

He shrugged. "It doesn't matter now, does it?"

"No. I guess not, but I had to say sorry at least."

"Don't be silly," Rowan said, leaning forward to kiss her, this time more of a touch on the corner of her mouth.

She said, "Don't ever be afraid to tell me something, okay? Ever. Your feelings, thoughts, whatever."

"Well, considering how you're so unable to pick up on how someone feels about you, that's pretty much a promise I won't have any trouble making."

She laughed and lightly hit him on the thigh. Then her hand was there again, but touching this time, slowly moving up his thigh towards his crotch.

His eyes locked onto hers and he simply watched, feeling her hand move ever closer to his hardening cock. She was fascinated by the look in his eyes and the way his breathing had obviously changed. He looked down briefly to see her other hand undo the side buttons of her skirt, letting it drop to the floor so she could step out of it and push it away with her foot.

A moment later and her hand was resting on his erection, slowly rubbing it through his jeans. He gulped and nodded nervously. "Uh. Do you want to move to the living room... or anything?"

She shook her head with a hard squeeze of his now erect cock and giggled as he let out a short moan. With quite the serious look on her face, she leaned forward and licked his lips in place of a kiss, making him look amused before that melted away into the pleasure of her palm cupping his bulge. Both her hands skilfully undid his jeans and let them drop to the floor with ease. Without even thinking about it, he toed off his shoes and stepped out of them as she moved back to pull his T-shirt off. Then her lips were on his again, but on the other side of his mouth and this time he was finding it hard to even think because her hands were slowly working on his cock through the very thin material of his boxer shorts. Part of him was already sure he would explode very soon; he'd been waiting for something like this for so long and now that it was happening, the reality was infinitely more intense than the fantasy.

She wondered momentarily, as she kissed him, how it was she had never realised what was in front of her the whole time. How she had never realised the comfort being with him brought her while still exciting her. Her body on fire, she was determined that all those months and months he'd waited, were going to be worth it and that he'd never forget this night.

Her lips travelled to his neck as she firmly pushed him back toward the front door and kept him there. "Close your eyes," She said with a tone that couldn't be disobeyed.

Almost amused, he complied. She kissed the front of his neck, the collarbone and the middle of his chest. Her hands were slowly clawing their way up his sides and she could tell he liked the feeling; he couldn't stop smiling. Without warning, she licked his nipple and suddenly sucked hard. He gasped and almost opened his eyes. Giggling, she did the same to the other nipple, using her fingers to scrape around it first. Then, using her fingers to play with both of his nipples, she lowered a little, letting her mouth drag kisses down the middle of his abdomen, until she was on her knees and kissing him right above the band of his boxer shorts.

She let her hands lower down, keeping them in contact with his body until they came to rest at the top of his boxer shorts. Her eyes were focused on his face. Rowan's chest was rising and falling a little quicker now and she could hear the shallow breathing and wondered how fast his heart was beating. He was very obviously hard, and the material of his boxers was straining against his erection.




The Quiet Friend Pt. 02



"Sarah..." He murmured quietly.

"Hmm?"

"Uh..." Rowan trailed off, unsure of what he was going to say.

"Keep your eyes closed as long as you can."

He did not answer because all he felt suddenly was the waistband of his boxer shorts lower and his cock spring out straight. She pulled them down all the way and tapped his foot. He stepped out of them, his mind already driving him wild, wondering when she was going to touch him where he ached to be touched. Having his eyes closed only made it more wonderfully frustrating, especially as her hands began to travel up his thighs... He moaned softly because her tongue licked the underside of his cock out of the blue. Once, twice and with each successive lick her tongue was slower and applied more pressure. His cock was throbbing now and he could feel a wave of pleasure from the point of contact through the shaft to the base each time she licked him. He let his body lean back a little, his legs widening slightly and resisted opening his eyes as she held the base of his shaft and slowly began to suck the head.

He couldn't have said how it felt, but he was so aware of one of her hands gripping his hip and the other holding the base while her hot, wet mouth worked only on his head and her tongue swirled around it occasionally. It was slow. That was the one thing that occurred to him before she whisked him away into a world of sensation by sucking all the way down to the base and using her tongue to lick and push along his shaft while he was in her mouth. That slowness was driving him crazy.

Sarah watched the expressions of pleasure flickering across his face and heard his moans getting louder. His body was sagging a little and he made sure to lean back as she started sucking faster, varying between taking all of him in and keeping only the head in while her tongue moved rapidly. At one point, she pushed his cock upward against his belly and flicked her tongue rapidly from side to side against the head of his cock just over the most sensitive part where the head joined the shaft. That had a massive effect on him.

He kept his eyes closed the entire time; that much she found impressive, but she was glad he couldn't resist opening them as she increased pressure and began to suck hard with a regular rhythm to prolong the build up. When he saw her, his eyes rolled back and he closed them again, uttering; "Fuck..."

She moved the hand from his hip to play with his balls and increased the pressure and speed in sucking. Using her tongue to full effect, she felt his muscles tighten as his breathing became rapid and his moans were full throated, building up to a long groan that ended with a surprisingly primal grunt that turned her on; his orgasm had taken over. His mind felt like it'd been hit by a wave of pleasure crashing down on his entire nervous system, down his spine and along all the nerve endings. He let out successively quieter grunts accompanying each pulse of cum that shot out into her mouth, to be swallowed as he quietened, his knees wavering slightly. She licked every drop of cum she could feel with her tongue before letting his cock slide out slowly, letting her teeth very lightly scrape over the head as it dropped out of her mouth. A small pearl of cum was still at the opening and she squeezed the shaft to watch it grow, before licking it off and giving his head another quick suck. She loved every moment of it, especially his face afterwards.

He had his eyes open and was staring at her, breathing hard, unable to stop himself from smiling. Rowan had no self consciousness in that moment. He slowly sank down and sat with his back to the door, letting his knees rest as she looked at him, biting her bottom lip.

"That was... amazing," Rowan said, wholly aware that it did not convey the full extent of what he was feeling.

She seemed to understand, though, and she smiled warmly, moving to his side and kissing the corner of his mouth. "That's only the beginning."

"Of course it is. You don't think I'd let you do that without me doing something in return?" He asked in mock surprise, still slightly breathless; a fact of which she was proud.

Her answering look was serious and smouldering. "What do you have in mind?" She was right up against him, enjoying the contact with his skin.

His hand snaked to her back and rubbed circles under her shirt, over the spine and her sides. "Whatever you want."

"What a dangerous thing to say. What if I wanted you to be my sex slave?"

Rowan made an exaggerated face of thinking before he asked, "Would I get time off?"

She shook her head. "No."

But he was already pulling her to him, to straddle his legs, which he had straightened out on the floor. He began to kiss her neck lightly, followed by slow licks over each kissed spot and blowing across, making her shudder and smile. She was wearing that top with the neckline going along the collarbone, the top he had seen numerous times before and fantasised about dragging his lips along the neckline.

He pushed her top up from her waist and encouraged her to take it off. As she dragged the shirt off head head, he leaned her back and supported her with his hands. He then leaned down to lick below the bra and above the navel. He blew on that spot and watched her belly ripple slightly from the sudden cooling of her skin. One of her hands came to his head, keeping him there for a little bit until she felt the need to sit up again.

It was so comfortable. It was still a surprise how comfortable it was, how natural it felt for him to be doing this. She desperately wanted him to explore every inch of her body, all at once if that was possible.

She let her top drop from her fingers while his hands were pulling her bra straps down over her shoulders. She readily slipped her arms out of the straps and reached behind to unhook the bra. Almost shy about revealing herself, she held her hands over her bra, keeping it in place. He tugged gently and stared at her. She was smiling mischievously. Her belly wasn't entirely flat, though it was hardly noticeable and her breasts, a little less than a handful were bunched up against her body as her arm pressed against them.

It was almost imperceptible at first, but he could see she was slowly letting the bra slip down her chest. Before it was entirely gone, he reached for her arm and pulled it to the side slowly, letting her bra drop to the space where her crotch was near his groin. Her breasts were firm and round with the slightest feel of being conical, only because her nipples, to his surprise, were longer and thicker than he ever would have guessed. There had never been any indication that they were that prominent.

She laughed, making her breasts jiggle with movement and his eyes followed, mesmerised.

"Rowan!"

"Huh?"

"Well?"

"Your nipples are big."

"Uh-huh. I didn't know this. You know what else they are?"

"What?" Rowan asked, barely hearing her. His hands were spread and on her lower body, the curve of his forefinger to the thumb mirroring almost exactly the curve of the underside of her breast.

"Really sensitive. And begging to be licked. Now."

He didn't know what made him do it, but he looked down at her legs. They were bare and soft and inviting to the touch. He looked up at her face, to the questioning look in her eyes.

Grinning, he pulled her body closer and kissed her chest, between her breasts. He paused as the kiss made his lip ache. This time, instead of kissing, he licked the same spot with the very tip of his tongue. Using the tip, he trailed slowly towards one breast, stopping only to suddenly blow along the wet skin. He lightly scraped the side of her breast with his teeth, licking the skin as he did so. Then he nuzzled her flesh and moved to the middle again.

Slowly he licked lower until he had to stop and she began to lean back to make it easier for him. Then, without warning, he brought one hand to her breast and lightly squeezed the nipple. This made her gasp lightly. He lightly licked around the other nipple, making sure not to touch it; he blew on it and licked around it again, with a little more pressure this time. Using the tip of his tongue, he lightly touched her nipple and flicked it. Then again, and again, until he was gently, just on the edge of his tongue, rapidly flicking it across the end of her nipple. She squirmed a little, moaning and bringing her hand to his head to push him against her breast. He took this as an invitation to suck hard. It was painful, but for a few moments, he ignored the pain, relishing the soft yielding of her breast.

She moaned even louder, surprising him a little and he stopped and looked up at her. She wasted no time in pushing his mouth against her nipple again and he resumed licking her nipple and sucking it into his mouth, more softly this time. At one point he drew as much of the flesh around it into his mouth and she moaned loudly, her breathing becoming more noticeably shallow as her hips started to involuntarily jerk from each pull of his mouth on her nipple.

Rowan could not have said how long he kept her breast in his mouth, letting his tongue whirl around it every now and then between sucking it, but he was aware of her moans becoming more frequent as well as her hands moving more rapidly through his thick hair as she held him there. Soon, he let her nipple fall out of his mouth and switched to the other one, again taking it into his mouth and sucking hard. Her breathing was ragged now and he looked up briefly at one point to see her eyes closed and an intense expression of pleasure on her face.

He kissed underneath her nipple and moved back, watching her chest rise and fall with each shallow breath. She looked down at him, breathing hard and then leaned forward to kiss him open mouthed on the lips. Her tongue touched his and a moment or so later, he realised she was grinding against him. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, she increased speed a little, but mostly pressure, grinding her wet knickers against his bulge. The effect was maddening and he found himself unable to think clearly as her body weight pressed down on him and moved in a rhythm which was making him very hard.

Her head was besides his and his mouth was on her neck, licking and nibbling as she kept grinding against him, obvious about it now and taking her time with slow but hard movements. The heat from her pussy was clearly evident and made him even more turned on as he kissed her neck with fading intensity, getting lost in the feel of her body.

Soon, all he could do was breathe as she kept up her rhythmic dance on his hard cock, moaning faintly with each thrust against it. He closed his eyes, taking in her smell and felt her shift slightly. He opened his eyes again to see her looking directly at him, arms gripping his shoulders, her mouth right in front of his lips. She kissed him a few times and leaned back just slightly so he could see the lust in her eyes. For a moment, he simply let his hands grip her hips and help her along, staring back and unthinking. Then she leaned back more, moving her arms so they settled on his legs behind her, supporting her weight as she begun to grind him with unrestrained passion.

Rowan could only watch. His own ache was nearly unbearable, but it was nothing compared to how she was feeling. She grunted with each thrust, eyes closed and her hips bucking wildly. He could feel the weight in her arms as she used them to push herself into him.

It was a minute or so later when she suddenly slowed, her eyes flashing open as she let out a huge moan. She gave a few hard thrusts against his throbbing cock, pausing at the end of each one and punctuating with a loud grunt. Her eyes rolled back and she cried out loudly, moving forward to wrap her arms around his neck and pressing herself against him. He simply sat quietly, his arms on her back, feeling her thrusting die out as her body began jerking every second or so while her orgasm ran through it. He felt every jerk of her body and was amazed at the intensity of it. There was something so raw about it; it felt as though it had emptied his mind.

Slowly, her jerking stopped and he could hear her trying to catch her breath while she stayed motionless. Slowly she brought her mouth to his cheek and gave out a small, short laugh. She kissed his cheek and slowly straightened so she could look at him properly. She was still breathing shallow as she smiled and moved forward to drag her bottom lip along his jaw, ending with a kiss.

"Wow," She said. "That was..."

"... Intense?"

She laughed. "Uh-huh. Yes."

Rowan thought about it for a moment. He wasn't sure he had actually done anything at all to trigger the orgasm. "What happened to me returning the favour?"

"You did, you idiot... I told you, my nipples are sensitive. Really sensitive. You drove me right to the edge. I haven't cum that hard for a long, long time." She moved back so he could see her face. She looked down briefly at the place where her soaked knickers rested on his erection. "And of course, that helped."

Rowan looked sheepish for a second and smiled, letting his eyes run over her upper body. Her nipples were erect and bright and her belly pulsed slowly with each breath. Her body had finally calmed and she took stock of the situation.

"I didn't want to wait," She said.

Rowan was confused until he realised she was talking about her dry humping him.

"I know I've got no condoms," She added. "I figured you wouldn't have any either."

"Oh. No. I don't." The thought of protection hadn't even entered his mind. He said so.

She laughed and nodded. "Yeah, well, I nearly didn't think of it either. God, Rowan, I was ready to just let you get inside me."

Those words had a big effect on him and he stammered, suddenly nervous, though he had no idea why. She smiled at him and touched her lips to his to calm him. It had the desired effect.

She put her forehead against his and whispered, "I think we should go back to yours, don't you?"

"You realise we'll have to walk." Rowan sighed, quite content with the idea of staying where they are.

"We can get some condoms on the way. There's no way I'm going for the rest of the night without at least having you in me once."

That erased any thought of protest from him and he dumbly nodded as she slowly lifted her leg over his body so she could sit at his side. Then she stood up, slowly, using his shoulders to push herself up and he followed suit.

She looked down at her knickers. "They're soaked. I can't wear these." She took them off immediately with a casual air, as if she was simply undressing after a long day.

Rowan's eyes widened. He stared at the small patch of trimmed pubic hair and the obvious shine of moisture below it. Her labia were a little puffy, peeking out from between her legs just a touch. He couldn't take his eyes away from them.

He didn't even think about doing it. On impulse, he reached out to touch her there. She shuddered in surprise and sighed as he stroked her lips lightly. She moaned as he applied a little more pressure. Her pussy was wet to the touch and his fingers glided along the edge of the lips with ease. He stopped for a moment and very deliberately brought his fingers to his mouth and licked them, tasting her for the first time as she watched.

He returned her look and sucked her juices off his fingers and then slowly moved to her, pushing her back against the wall as she had done to him earlier.

"Rowan?"

He didn't answer. He knelt down in front of her instead. Her inside thighs were moist and glistening. Her pussy was in full view and he looked at it, curiously taking in as much detail as he could. Slowly he brought his hand to the back of her thigh and without a word, lifted her leg off the floor. A small sound of surprise escaped her lips but she regained her balance immediately and didn't resist at all as he lifted her leg high enough to place over his shoulder.

Before she knew it, his mouth was on her pussy. He licked slowly at first, tasting her. It had a strange, alluring sharpness to it. He let the flat of his tongue press down and run along as much of her pussy as he could manage, before plunging the tongue tip into the folds, flicking back and forth rapidly as she moaned loudly. Her breathing was already beginning to quicken. She widened her legs without thinking about it and soon he flicked his tongue higher and higher until he reached her clit.

She gasped when he made contact with it and her body felt a little heavier. He could not tell if it was because she felt weaker or because she wanted to press down on his tongue. He started to lick her clit slowly at first. Occasionally he stopped briefly to listen to her. She was gasping a little and moaning along with his licking. He started to lick faster, alternating between light flicks and pressured touches with his tongue tip. It didn't take long. Her earlier orgasm already had her near the edge and as he increased the pressure and speed, licking her clit over and over in circles and up and down, she suddenly cried out, grabbing his head and using it for support as her muscles tightened. Her pussy grew profusely wet and her hips bucked spasmodically, punctuated by her loud grunts and her growing weight.

Rowan kept licking, softly this time as her orgasm subsided slowly and her body lowered gently, leaning more against him than actually moving down as he gripped the back of her lower thighs and helped support her. His head was against her belly as the jerking in her body finally stopped and she lowered even more, coming to a rest right in front of him, back to the wall. She was still breathing a little heavy, staring at him with a grin.

His lips and the area around it were a little wet with her juices and she leaned forward, licking around his mouth a little and then his lips. Then she kissed him hard. This time, the pain in his lip was definitely mingled with pleasure and he did not mind it. They sat like that for a while, her head on his shoulder, almost ear to ear, and her body half leaning on his.

He heard her whisper, "I can't believe it took me this long to figure out how I felt about you."

Rowan wasn't sure how to answer that.

"You're mine too," She said.

He hugged her on impulse and she returned the embrace. Her breathing was finally calm and neither of them felt the need to move for a few moments.

But then, "C'mon, Rowan. Back to yours."

It took them a few minutes to make themselves presentable. They did it in the bathroom, quickly washing their faces and watching each other dress with no trace of self consciousness. Everything was done in silence but it was so comfortable and put them both at an ease in which they could not stop smiling.

Rowan felt nervous all of a sudden though, when they heard knocking at the door.

"Uh."

Sarah glanced towards the doorway and shrugged. "I'm not going down there."

Rowan narrowed his eyes at her mockingly and then looked toward the stairs. "Well, I guess it'll be me then." But as he walked out of the bathroom, he heard the door opening. That meant it was either Katarina or Gil. He wondered why either of them would have knocked first.

Gil stood in the passageway as Rowan descended the stairs, wondering how he was going to explain his presence here.

"Rowan. How's it?" Gil asked, shutting the door behind him.

"Hey. I'm okay. How are you?"

It was at this point that Gil noticed the cut on Rowan's lip. "What the hell happened to you?"

"Uh..."

"And what's that smell? Kinda distinctive. Rowan, what have you been doing here?"

Feeling as though this conversation was going rapidly out of control, despite the fact nothing much had been said, Rowan simply stared at Gil and thought of Sarah. He wondered how long she would be. He just wanted to leave now. It almost felt as though, even if this was Katarina's place and Gil was her boyfriend, that he was being intruded upon.




The Quiet Librarian



Betty Jean Mallory is a nice young woman who tries to do what she believes to be the right thing. She's quiet and shy, acts and dresses to be inconspicuous. In reality, she's physically attractive. Lovely body, small and trim. 5'4" tall, just over 100 pounds, 24 inch waist, 34 inch hips, 35B breasts, full and firm. More than a handful as the old saying goes. Shapely legs, slim to match her body but with good muscle definition; she's unlikely to ever have a cellulite problem. Thick brown hair cut slightly short, dark eyes that almost sparkle in her very light, almost pale complexion, relatively small mouth, good strong chin.

She does what she calls her floor exercises; sit-ups, crunches, kegels and so on. Jogs the university track several times a week. So, she's in decent physical condition. 

She's intelligent, with a Master's degree in Library Science. She's an assistant librarian at the University library. The youngest of her peers in the professional ranks at the library, she's also the only single woman. The conversations of the other women at breaks or during lunch very often leave Betty Jean blushing. It's surprising to her that the conversation so often is about sex. She learns more about the various husbands' sexual practices and interests than she ever expected. 

Betty Jean has no direct, personal sexual experience. She dated a little in high school and as an undergraduate, has kissed and been kissed, has fended off a little miscellaneous pawing. But never has moved on to anything serious sexually. Maybe it's because she's so quiet, maybe because she's so proper, but she never went beyond the second or third date with anyone. She did view a very explicit porn video with a group of other girls in college. It was shown after they were all ready for bed and, as they viewed several naked couples doing everything that males and females can do with each other, the room became redolent with a sexual odor as the girls almost unanimously fingered themselves.

During that video Betty Jean had her first real orgasm. She'd fingered herself before, found it very pleasant. But during that video she, almost unconsciously, worked on herself with a real fervor. Since then, she's brought herself to orgasm fairly regularly, thinking of some of the videos scenes as she does so. She purposely doesn't do it as often as she feels like it, thinking there's probably something wrong with feeling that way. 

She's looked at her naked body in a mirror and noticed how the muscles of her thighs curve out as they move up to her hips, leaving an opening that she once saw described in a book as "the perfect shape for a man's chin and lips as he licks into her labia." She saw a man licking and sucking on a woman's clit in the video, remarkable close-up shots, and often thinks of that while masturbating. But what she thinks of mostly are penises. Erect, sexy things with a big end on them -- a smaller, pointy end would make more sense she's often thought - are almost an obsession.

She lives on the third floor of a three story apartment building near the campus. Not new but still maintained well with many university employees living there. She has a one bedroom apartment -- living room, kitchen, dinette, bedroom with small balcony, bathroom. In the bathroom, the shower is over the faucets of a tub with a sliding shower curtain. The walls are tiled up to just above her shoulder height. One evening, as she finished her shower, she notices a drop of water forming right above the tile. It runs down and a another drop forms. She touches it with her finger. As she moves her finger it dislodges a small speck of paint and reveals a small, round hole. 

The hole could have been there for years, covered over at sometime in the past with paint. She looks closely and realizes it was so perfectly round it must have been purposely drilled in the wallboard. She barely had to bend at all to get her eye to the hole and look into it. She was looking into the bathroom of the next apartment. She has a very restricted view but could see a naked body taking a shower. As she moves to see down and up she realizes it;s a man. She can see his penis and testicles and pubic hair. She looks for a few moments. It;s the first live, real penis she's ever seen. She feels the need to touch herself, thinks of the penises in the video as she watches this one.

As the man moves she realizes he's well built, fairly trim. She moves her angle of looking to see higher and realizes it's a man she's seen very often coming in and out of the apartment building and at the university. Then she looks down again to see his penis. She watches as he washes his genitals, lifts the penis and pushes the skin back. She watches until he finishes, gets out of the shower and dries himself., sliding her finger over her clit. She only gets glimpses of different parts of his body as he dries. He then moves to the sink. She can't see him except when he occasionally steps back. She assumes he's brushing his teeth and doing his hair. Then he leaves the bathroom and turns the light off. She works on herself to a lovely climax, thinking of his penis.

She's embarrassed that she had watched him and yet fascinated with being able to see his naked body. She had some tangible things to include in her fantasy that evening as she lay in bed and masturbated again to a better than normal orgasm.

Over the next few weeks, she learned his habits and began watching him every evening. She purposely took her showers earlier each evening so that she'd be free to watch him take his. She'd get naked and stand in her tub and watch him. At times he lingered at washing his penis and it would grow significantly. She would finger herself even more forcefully when he would do this, imagining having access to that penis. She would nod and blush and murmur something when passing him as she entered or left the building. She saw him running the track while she jogged several times and blushed even more. She found herself thinking of his penis often. Essentially obsessing. She realized what was happening but rationalized that it's probably normal for a female to be enthralled with the male organ.

The next door neighbor, Dale Hanfils, had noticed Betty Jean for some time and intended to some time try and talk to her and perhaps date her. But he was almost as shy as she was. So he had not yet made any move. Dale was starting work on his doctorate, worked for now as an instructor, about the lowest professional rank. His intent was to eventually be a professor at some college or university. 

Dale had slightly more sexual experience than Betty Jean. He had actually had vaginal sex with four females in his life. Each had much more experience than him and each used him for their own gratification because he was available at the right time. But he had no long term relationship with any of the women.

He's 5'9", trim, brown hair, brown eyes. He ran track in high school and as an undergraduate -- never a champ but one of those that earned the second and third places that a track team needs. Now he runs almost every day at the university track.

Unknown to each other, Dale had also discovered the hole in much the same way Betty Jean had. So far they had never looked at the same time. But he had, for several weeks, watched Betty Jean shower and was almost as obsessed with her body as she was with his.

This day, he watched her shower. For whatever reason, she began thinking of his penis and began fingering herself. In fact, she turned off the water and concentrated her efforts, working towards an orgasm. Dale is standing naked roughly two feet away, with a wall between them, watching her. He knows he has to make a move right now, as she's so aroused.

Betty Jean hears her doorbell, ignores it. She's getting too close to cumming. The bell is insistent. Reluctantly she steps out of the tub, wraps a large towel around her, tucks it in to hold it up, and goes to the door. Dale is out there but just leans his head around to talk to her.

"Hi, sorry to bother you like this. I'm your neighbor in 3-J next door. It's embarrassing but I stepped out into the hall and my door slammed shut and I can't get in. I was wondering if I could go through your apartment and climb from your balcony to mine and get in that way."

"Can't the super let you in?"

"Well, maybe so. I don't know whether he's here or not. But it's even more embarrassing. I'm naked. I need to borrow a towel or something from you. That's why I'm staying behind the door and just leaning around it like this."

Betty Jean just looked at him a moment and then decided she really should help. Maybe this is finally a way to meet him. "O.k.," she says, " just a moment." She leaves the door open and goes back to her bathroom and gets a towel for him. For whatever reason, probably just because it was close, she gets a rather small bath towel. She has a much larger one around her. She takes it back with her and hands it to him.

"Thanks," he says, "thanks a lot." He wraps it around his waist and steps out from behind the door.

"C'mon in," she says, turning and heading to her bedroom. "The balcony is through here, although it's probably just like your place and you would know that." As she walks away, the towel spreads open slightly with each step and Dale sees part of her naked butt cheeks and her upper thighs. Without realizing it, he starts getting an erection.

Betty Jean walks through to her bedroom, to the sliding door onto the balcony, then turns. The way Dale has fastened the towel around his waist leaves an opening almost in front, just off center slightly over one leg. His erection has grown and as it raised has pushed the towel aside enough to be sticking out in front. Betty Jean sees it, locks her eyes onto it. It's the first full erection she's ever seen. Dale steps by her onto the balcony. He would like to do or say something to take advantage of this opportunity but doesn't know what. So he looks over to his balcony. There's only a two foot separation. 

"I'll just climb over", he says, turning slightly to Betty Jean as he lifts his foot up onto the railing. As he makes that moves, it pulls the towel apart where he had tucked it in and the towel starts to fall. Betty Jean reaches out to grab the towel. In her mind she'll always claim she was reaching for the towel, But as it falls, her hand wraps around his erect cock. The towel hangs on her lower arm for a moment and then drops onto the balcony. He's standing there completely naked and she's grasping his cock. He puts his arms around her and moves closer to kiss her. As he does, on purpose or by accident nobody will ever know, his hands push open the tuck of her towel and it falls, also catching on her lower arm for a moment before falling onto the balcony. 

He's naked and she's holding his cock. She's naked and he's kissing her. She never lets go of his cock but starts backing into her bedroom. She'll later claim it was to get out of the sight of anyone that might happen to look their way. But she continues to slowly back up, pulling him by his cock while he continues to kiss her. She's trying to kiss back. It's only a few feet and her legs back up against her bed. She lifts a leg and kneels on the bed and slides back onto it slightly, pulling him after her by his erect cock. She starts leaning back and he leans forward. She ends up on her back, her legs spread and him over her in between her legs. She pulls his cock towards her vagina. He's still kissing her. Holding a real, erect cock is the sexiest thing that's ever happened to her. She can feel herself getting wetter down there and would like to finger herself but instead just keeps holding the cock as she pulls him onto her.

She brings the head of his cock to her labia and holds it there. "Please" she says, interrupting his kiss. He pushes his hips forward and she feels the head of his cock pushing open her labia and moving a fraction into her. She finally releases his cock and moves that hand around and onto his butt. With both hands now on him she pulls him into her more. She can feel every movement. He's slowly into her more and more. 

Dale never felt anything like this before. She is so tight it hurts to force his way into her. It feels as if his foreskin is getting pulled back so hard it will rip off. 

"You're so tight," he says, "is this hurting you?"

In fact it is hurting a little. But she wants it so much. "Just do it," she says.

He pushes further into her and runs into a blockage. "Is this o.k?" he asks, "I don't want to hurt you."

She pushes with her hips as she says, "Go ahead, do it."

She has an enormous pain, It's like her insides just got ripped open. In fact, to a small extent, they did. She makes a small animal noise, partly a groan and partly a minor scream, and then she feels him filling her up. There's no other way to describe it. There's just a lot of something there that has never been there before and it doesn't feel bad at all. Less than two minutes ago she was close to a self-induced orgasm. In those brief minutes she's seen her first true, live erect penis and has also held it and now it's in her. She's being aroused in all kinds of ways she's never been before and the pain of this big thing forcing its way into her actually adds to the arousal. instead of driving it away. For some moments she just lays there, her senses being filled while Dale hesitates, enjoying the warm tightness gripping his cock. Then he pulls back a little.

As she feels movement within her, Betty Jean starts rising towards orgasm. Almost involuntarily she pushes her hips up to keep him inside her. Then he pushes back in and she feels every movement and explodes. Her first real sex and she's in full orgasm within seconds. Her vagina contracts and grabs the penis even tighter. Dale pulls back again and then shoves forward. The contractions are something he's never felt before and he realizes he isn't going to last long. So he pushes in as hard as he can and holds it as he feels the sperm shooting up from his insides into her.

The first fuck of Betty Jean's life lasts a half minute at best.

Dale looks at her and kisses her. "I'm sorry," he says, "I've never felt like this before. I should have lasted a lot longer."

Betty Jean is ecstatic. This was better than she'd ever imagined. She could still feel him inside her. She could also feel fluid leaking out and onto her leg. She smiles back. "I loved it. I came right away, too. Maybe next time we'll last longer."

Even as she spoke, she realized she wanted more. She wanted this to happen much more. She wanted everything to happen that she'd seen in the video years before. She put her legs up around him and over his back, trying to pull him even further into her and lifted her head slightly to kiss him. They held the kiss and when they finally break, he kissed her forehead and cheek and slowly started pulling his now much softer penis out. As he left her she could feel a gush of fluid leaving her. He lifted off her and moved to the side. She bent her legs back and rolled away slightly.

"I'm really leaking, making a mess. I don't want to stop but I think I better clean up some right now."

As she started to sit up she looked back at a messy smear on her bedspread. She must have rolled in it some. She knew she had to wash herself off. Dale then looked and saw the same smeary mess.

""That's blood in with the rest," he said. "Are you all right?"

Betty smiled and leaned over to kiss him again, holding her body up and off the liquid. "I'm fine. I loved this. It was just my first. I won't be as messy next time."

"First?" Dale exclaimed. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to . . . uhf I mean . well, . . I loved it too."

Betty headed into the bathroom quickly, trying to not leak more while moving although she could feel some on her leg. Dale sat up as she left and asked, "Can I do something to help?"

Out of the bathroom, Betty answered, "Pick up the towels on the balcony before they blow away, please." She then sat on the toilet and wiped herself with tissue. She also realized that she'd never faced this problem before and that she had to do a little more. She flushed the toilet and moved to the sink where she wet a wash cloth and began wiping herself. She spread her legs, lifting one foot up onto the toilet seat as Dale came into the room. He stopped and watched as she washed her upper legs and her pubic area, trying to reach up inside herself and get as clean as possible. 

"Boy, that's sexy," he said, grinning. Betty Jean realized that she should be very embarrassed to be in this position, naked in front of a naked man, exposing her private parts, but instead was actually very pleased with it all. She looked at him and smiled, gave a careful look at his penis and scrotum. 

"You probably need to be cleaned some, too," she said, straightening up. She rinsed the wash cloth under the hot water. "Come over here."

Dale came to her. She got him close up to he sink so his testicles were touching on the rim. She then dropped the wash cloth and used her hands to get water onto his penis. She washed it with her fingers and palm, feeling it and stretching it a little. She then re-wet her hands and cupped his testicles and felt them. This was m ore than anything she'd ever fantasized before, this feeling and essentially playing with a man. She could feel his penis growing some as she handled it. She then took one of the towels he was holding and used it to dry herself off, lifting her leg again to get up into her genitals. She then used the same towel on Dale, drying his penis and testicles and feeling them even more in the process.

She then dropped the towel, stepped against him and leaned her face up as she put her arms around him. He responded by putting his arms around her and kissing her. They each could feel the other's body pressing into each other. As she pulled her head back a little, shoving her hips into him more in the process, she said, "Let's get back onto the bed."

As they went back into the bedroom, holding hands, she grabbed the bed spread and pulled it hard, off the bed. "That's a mess on there," Dale said.

"It'll wash out," Betty answered as she climbed onto the bed, pulling the top sheet back. Dale followed her onto the bed. She leaned onto him until he was on his back and she kissed him. "I've never felt like this before," she says, leaning over him. She runs her hand across his chest then slowly a little lower onto his abdomen as they continue to kiss. She moves her hand a little more to wrap her fingers around his penis. She can feel it's noticeably larger and firmer than it was minute or so earlier. "I've thought about sex a lot," she says as he moves her head down onto his chest to kiss him. "I think I've obsessed about penises." She kisses a little lower onto his abdomen. "I've wanted to hold one and kiss it and taste it for a long time." With that she sticks her tongue out and licks up the side of his penis which is now close to full erection.

Holding his penis she crawls around, getting further down and in between his legs. She puts her one hand under his testicles, moving them slightly as she feels them. At the same time she gets her mouth over the head of his cock and starts licking it. She puts her fingers around the base of his penis, although it's thick enough that her fingers don't meet. She starts almost humming as she licks and sucks on the head of his cock. Her fingers grip the base tightly and move up and down a few inches. Her other hand continues feeling his testicles. She flicks her eyes up to look up towards his face. She lifts her mouth free just long enough to say, "This is delicious, better than anything I've ever imagined." and then quickly engulfed his cock with her mouth again.

Even as she held and sucked on him, Betty Jean was wondering to herself how this all happened. She loved what she was doing and was going to get the most out of it all while she could. But she realized this was something not in keeping with her life in the past at all. Her dreams were coming true. She kept her tongue busy within her mouth on this lovely cock. She gripped it with her lips as she sucked, raising her head in an attempt to suck every bit of taste out of it. Then back down and then up again and again. Her jaws actually were starting to ache. It was much larger than she'd imagined and she had hr mouth open wide to accommodate it. Then she could feel it actually growing even more, swelling and getting even stiffer. She was so interested that she barely heard Dale's voice say, "I'm going to . . ." just as a warm, viscous mass spewed into her mouth. Out of self defense, she swallowed and then more came. She didn't want to stop tasting this cock. Perhaps all in a split second she realized it was sperm and that she liked sucking on him so she just swallowed again. There was a taste but it wasn't much. Slightly salty perhaps, maybe a tinge of bouillon or something. She kept feeling him, tasting him, Then it stopped spewing. What do I do now? Do I continue? Can I? She looks up at him and lifts her mouth free for a moment. "What now?" she asks.




The Quiet Librarian



"I think I'm probably done for awhile," He says, smiling at her. "You're very sexy." He sits up, grips her shoulders and pulls her up and towards him. He kisses her as he continues to pull her onto him. His one hand is now on her back, the other on her naked butt. He rolls so she's partly under him. "You have a beautiful body," he says quietly as he breaks the kiss. "Now it's my turn. I've never felt so turned on before. I want to do everything I can think of with you." 

As he spoke, he held himself up with one arm and ran his other hand down her side, onto her stomach. He slid down slightly, kissing her neck and moved his free hand up to one breast. He held her breast and kissed down to it, then licked the nipple. He moved to sit free more so he could get both hands on her body and began tweaking her other nipple between two fingers as he sucked and almost bit the first nipple. He moved his mouth to the second breast and slid his hand down onto her abdomen. As he sucked on the nipple his hand moved down through her pubic hair onto her mound. 

He slid a finger into her, feeling how moist she already was, aroused from sucking him and now his sucking her breasts. As he slid his finger further into her he used the palm of his hand to massage above her vagina, stimulating her clit. Betty couldn't keep still. Her hips started to shove back, urging his finger into her and she began making small moaning sounds.

Dale sat up and moved his entire body down between her feet and ran his hands up the sides of her legs. "Your whole body is just so desirable," he said, looking up to her face and then leaning down to kiss one calf. Her legs, already spread to give him room, spread even further and he kissed up the leg, onto her inner thigh. "I've got to have this," he almost mumbled as he leaned down to get his mouth to her labia. He slid both hands under her butt, lifting her slightly as he licked inside her vagina with wet, slurping noises. Betty's moans were turning into small yelps, her breath catching in her throat.

Dale's tongue was as far in as he could get, licking and tasting. He pulled out slightly to lick up her slit onto the bump that is her clit. He tongued it and felt it growing and then gripped it with his lips as his tongue pushed on it, pulsing. As her clit peeked out more his actions grew even stronger and he slipped two fingers up into her, under his chin. Her hips began jerking and jumping, her sounds became louder and louder. He could feel her entire vulva softening, becoming more engorged. Her entire body stiffened as she let out a scream and he could feel a gush of fluid on his fingers. He immediately pulled his fingers out, lowered his lips slightly and began sucking up everything she emitted, licking and slurping, almost sucking her labia into his mouth.

Betty's whole body was moving, rolling back and forth, her hips jumping. "Ohmigod, ohmigod," she repeated, then seemed to collapse. Dale moved his face out from between her legs and looked up to her face. She smiled weakly and held out her arms. He crawled up over her and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around him, kissed back and tasted herself all over his wet mouth and chin.

Soon they were side by side, facing one another and holding each other, kissing. Then she rolled about half onto him, placing her pubic area right on top of his and rubbing herself on him as she continued to kiss him. She then lifted her head and softly, looking him in the eyes, said "I've never done any of this before and now I don't want to ever stop." She moved one hand and slid it between them to wrap her fingers around his cock, squeezing and lightly massaging it. She lifted her hips slightly so she could rub his penis up and down her labia. "Will you be able to do some more soon?"

Without waiting for an answer, rubbing her clit with his flaccid penis, she adds, " I just need this so much and I want it now. Maybe I can help get you up quicker." She crawled backwards on her knees, still straddling him and holding his penis. When she got back to his knees she leaned down and got her mouth to him, put her lips around the head of his cock and started licking and sucking. "C'mon, c'mon," she says as she moves her lips loose for just a second then goes back to sucking on him. His penis starts to react, twitching on its own and growing some, which causes her to react by sucking stronger and trying to jack him off with her fingers around the base. In less than a minute he's erect. Not as hard as he can get but erect enough. She walks herself forward on her knees, still holding his penis and jerking off with it, until her vagina lips are directly above it. She lowers herself and gets the head into her lips. She then lets go of it and drops herself down more, taking it up inside her. "Aaah," she says, looking up at the ceiling. She nestles her bottom own onto Dale, moves it back and forth a little, looking down at him and grinning, feeling his cock moving within her.

She uses her legs to rise up slightly then drop down again, staring at Dale but almost not seeing him as she concentrates her feelings on the cock moving within her. She leans forward, arms outstretched holding her up, and moves her hips forward, sliding up his cock, then back again, taking him back into her. "This is just so perfect," she says, "I can feel every bit of you moving in me. I could do this for hours, I think." She continues slowly fucking him for several minutes. Dale smiles and watches her, He can see his cock disappearing into her, then re-appearing as her lips pull out and then push back in along with his cock. Her breasts are swaying in front of him and he can see her clit, still swollen some from his mouth working on it earlier. He reaches with one hand to hold a breast and feel the nipple, then sits up slightly to get his mouth to the other nipple. At the same time he reaches to her clit with his other hand and starts massaging it.

Betty is moaning but continues riding his cock as he sucks on one breast, tweaks the other nipple and works on her clit. This lasts for several minutes until she feels another orgasm coming. She stops moving with her bottom on him, his cock fully up into her and almost screams as her juices leak out around his cock. Dale continues to work on both her breasts and clit. "Ohmigod," she says, looking down at him, this is even better than before. I think each one is better than the last."

"Climb off," Dale says, moving his hands away from her, "and get on your hands and knees. I'll get behind you and get into you again from a different angle."

"Oh, this is so good right here," she replies, but then lifts herself up. His cock come out with an audible "pop". As she climbs off him, he scoots from beneath her and gets between her legs, his cock now aimed at her ass. He holds it and aims into her red, swollen vagina again, then pushes completely into her in one stroke. "Oh, yes," she exclaims. He stays upright and starts pulling out and pushing in with force, pounding into her, holding her hips with both hands. She accepts each push into her with an "oof" and her whole body sways forward, then back as he withdraws partially. Then back into her again. As he continues, she starts pushing back with more and more force and his abdomen is pounding into her butt. "Ohmigod," she's saying . Again she feels still another orgasm coming. "This is so much more than I ever imagined. Fuck me. Really fuck me. Hard. Hard" she repeats with each strong stroke into her. Soon she's screaming and he can feel her whole body shudder with another orgasm.

He pushes fully into her, leans over her and puts his hands on her breasts, holding them and tweaking her nipples. "Should I continue?" he asks. He can feel her body covered with a film of perspiration.

"I almost can't stand it," she says. "Yes, sure, keep going until you're done. This is just so much and yet I don't want it to ever end." He releases her breasts, slides one hand down over her abdomen, finding her clit. He straightens up some, works his fingers on her clit, holds her hip with his other hand and resumes pounding into her. Over and over and over. She either has another orgasm or perhaps the first never stops and he keeps pounding into her for what seems like forever but is probably only a few minutes until he can feel his own climax building. He again shoves fully into her, straightens up on his knees and lets his cock jerk and spew within her.

She collapses, face down, his cock sliding out. He lays down, partially on her and partially to the side, his sticky cock lying on one butt cheek. They just lay there for a few minutes, exhausted. She finally pulls out from under him, facing him on her side.

"I've got to apologize. I've just been awful. This isn't like me at all. You must think of me as the worst slut possible. I don't know, some how when I got hold of your penis, I went a little crazy. I mean, I'm not sorry we did this. I hope we do it all a thousand times more. But it isn't like me at all. I mean, I've been naked all this time and I can't really believe that. And I've done everything possible with your cock, more than I ever, ever had any fantasies about. I've been so horny, I really have been a slut. You must really feel bad about me."


"No," Dale replies, smiling and caressing a breast softly. "I'm really glad this happened. I think you're the sexiest woman in the world. I would never have had the nerve to try any of this. We might never have got around to anything like this. But now we have. I've loved every moment of it. I hope we do it multiple thousands of times more." He smiled, leaned forward and kissed her on the lips, still holding her breast. "By the way, my name is Dale. You?"

Betty smiled and laughed lightly. "I should be embarrassed, I guess, " she said, "but I'm not. I've just loved this, too, Dale. My name is Betty Jean. Betty Jean Mallory." She kisses him and reaches down to cup his cock and balls and hold them in her hand.

# # #



The Quiet Lover



(This is an excerpt from The Erotic Soul.)

"It is very dark now. The moon has not yet risen, and I can feel the heat of the day beginning to wane somewhat. But it is still warm enough for me to sit naked at the computer. I can feel the gentle breeze coming through the open window. It feels so wonderful as it moves across my breasts. I can feel my nipples getting harder, and this makes me think back to this afternoon."

"I was lying in the tub when you came in today. You looked at my as if you had expected me to be there, and nowhere else. I felt vulnerable, exposed as your eyes traveled over my naked flesh, only partially concealed by the bubbles. You strip your own clothes off as you come closer, but you shake your head no when I ask you to join me. Instead, you kneel down next to me. I close my eyes as your hand lightly caressed the side of my face, and down my neck. You trail your fingers back and forth across the tops of my breasts, just barely exposed above the bath bubbles. 

I watch your fingers, feeling the sensual ripples along my nerves. When you slip your hand into the bubbles, I hold my breath for a moment. I exhale sharply when I feel your strong hand cupping my breast. You turn your head, and I see the small smile curving your lips. You don't stop though, continuing to massage my breast. As my nipple tightens in your palm, you move your fingers to stroke back and forth across its turgid tip. I groan in response, shifting in the water. I can feel my pussy gushing forth its liquids in anticipation of your touch there. I spread my legs; bending them at the knees to show you how open I am for your touch. Still though, you don't move away from my breast.

Suddenly, you squeeze my nipple, hard. I open my eyes, looking up at you. You speak to me then, your voice deep, melodic and sensual. I hear your words as if through a fog, one that is thick with heavy, sensual mists. “Tell me how you like your tits rubbed.” Surprisingly aroused by your course words, I shift in the water. “Such nice titties you have, baby. Big, round and eager tits.” 

I can't stop my body moving sensually in response to your words. I never thought such language could turn me on. You know though what I need, what I want, even when I don't. You read my mind. You enter my soul and see my deepest needs. You perceive what no one else ever has. You understand that what I need is different from what I need. 

I hear your voice again, speaking to me softly, gently. Your hands caress me as gently, seductively as your words. I feel myself melting in the warm water. "You are eager tonight, my sweet, aren't you?"

I try to speak, but the words catch in my dry throat. Instead, I can only nod my head. I squirm in the water, my hips seeking your touch to ignite my passion once again. I lift one hand towards my belly. You stop me with one word, "No!” Your hand still massages my breast. "Not just yet."

I can tell you want to control me, to make me your sensual slave. Is my enslavement so important to you? Your voice comes to me again. "Now, I want you to speak the words. You must tell me what to touch. You must instruct me to pleasure you. I want you to be coarse. I want you to be graphic, no sweet, polite words will do." 

I look up into your face, your eyes. I can see you will allow no latitude. My voice is cracked, as I start though, halting and slow, resistant to reveal myself so totally to you. It is much easier when you pleasure me, and I don't have to be responsible for my pleasure. 

"Touch me," I plead. But he doesn't. I realize that he wants me to use his words. "Squeeze my tit…" I whisper nervously, unsure at uttering the words that have the power to make me feel like a slut, and release me from the bounds of conventionality. 

I groan as you reward me by massaging my breast firmly. I wriggle and try to get closer to you. "Go on, " I hear you say. 

"Suck my tits, please.” I raise one hand to the back of your head as you lower your mouth. But you stop, just shy of my hard, distended nipples. I squirm, but still you won't take me. I realize that I must ask you again. "Suck my titties," I beg you in the silence of the room. This time I feel your hot breath a moment before you enclose my taut nipple in the hot, sweet suction of your mouth. "Yes!" I cry out as your tongue teases my nipple. 

I finally ask you for my true wish. "Touch my pussy."

You lift your head, looking down out me. I can tell you want me to say it another way. I lick my lips, and try again. "Touch my clit, mon amant."

You reward my by sliding your hand down over my belly, through my curls and directly to my clit. You waste no time with preliminaries. You go straight to the heat of my desire. I cry out with each teasing touch of your fingertip. I want you so much. I want what you make me feel. "Stick your finger in my cunt!” I shout out, surprising us both. 

You need no further encouragement though and move your fingers to pleasure me completely. Your mouth sucks my tit, while your fingers play in my cunt, using my juices to lubricate your movements. You are flicking my clit to delicious submission. And then, when I almost can't take another second, you bend your fingers inside of me and find… that special place. My scream echoes through the bathroom as my hips writhe madly, splashing water everywhere. Over and over, I cum around your fingers and hand. I can feel my tits shaking and jiggling. My nipples are so hard and taut they ache. And still, over and over, I keep cumming madly, out of control. 

I drift in sensual languor. I am completely done in. I lift my eyes finally, and you are gone." 



The Quiet One



Tuesday night. Quiet. I am sitting in an overstuffed striped chair by the window, a streetlight spreading a candle like glow over the pages of the book I’m reading. Hardly anyone here and it is quiet, except for the sound of my stockings scraping against each other when I shift my thighs, which I am doing frequently, given the content of the book I am reading. My face is warm with arousal, I’m torn between raising the book to hide myself and lowering it to hide the cover, embarrassed at what I am reading, but too absorbed in the stories to put it down. Not that it really matters, because there is no one here to watch me and they probably wouldn’t watch me even if they were in here.

No one here except for that little earthquake heading towards me in the form of boots that are clicking against marble floors, until he hits the carpet and becomes hard silence. I raise my eyes and peek over the top of the book at him, and snap back to the text the minute his dark eyes collide with mine. I lift the book higher to cover my face, remember the cover, drop it to my lap, remember to hide myself, and raise it again, blushing harder, breathing harder, my heart pounding as I acknowledge to myself that I have been caught. I can hear him pause on the carpet and turn. From behind the book, I can see he has disappeared into literature, somewhere around Ayn Rand. 

Three pages pass, I am wet, hot, unbelievably absorbed, wide and so willing. I’m working hard not to remember, that unlike the people in these stories, I have no one to seduce but myself. I am definitely avoiding that thought.  No matter how much I make love to myself, fuck myself, no matter how many of those toys that should be used by a lover: the ice, oils & lotions, beads, vibes, butt plugs and various other toys I bring out, knowing I will be embarrassed by them in the morning, but have me so very hot right now, no matter how many times I bring myself to the peak and then hold my cum back, before I finally give in and fall, screaming so loud I can=t control it, my nipples hard as I pull at them, vibrator thrumming away against my clit and hood ring, my thighs & stomach shaking, all of this doesn’t matter, as my cunt grabs desperately, clutching for a cock , a hot, hard, silky, engorged cock, attached to a warm man. 

At those moments, when I lie there in recovery, shaking, already imagining the next orgasm because I have not satisfied anything at all, I can almost feel his mouth on my tits, his cock in my mouth, the taste and smell of him. But, I am not pretty, and men do not want to do these things to me, so I settle for myself. 

I don=t even notice that my right hand has slipped across my chest, snaked under the fabric of my blouse, and is teasing my nipple, pulling my nipple ring against my skin, puckering, aching. I shift again, the shiver of wetness, actual drops, trickling down into my pantyhose. I pinch my nipple between my thumb and forefinger, nearly jumping at the pleasure pain.  Suddenly there is a large hand on my thigh and I really do jump. I lower the book quickly, smacking the spine against the broad hand spreading out over my leg. The man from the literature section is squatting beside me, touching me so familiarly I should smack him for real, but instead I apologize. "I'm sorry," I say.

He smiles, and I see an unidentifiable flicker in his eyes. "No need to apologize,” he says “I'm sorry I startled you." He is older than I am, too old for me, probably, then the muscles in his thighs push against his jeans when he shifts his weight. "How's the book?" he asks, as I watch the movement of his head, only the slightest motion, his eyes locked against mine, stroking my jaw. I am blushing and stumbling nervous.

"It's um, good," I say weakly, wondering why I can't be normal and read mystery novels like other people do in bookstores. "So I see," he says, smiling as he looks toward at my hand, my fingers still working my nipple. "Oh god," I say, and yank my hand away from my breast. I'm too embarrassed to even say I'm embarrassed. "It's okay," he says, as his hand travels, one long, slow, heavy, circle on my thigh, and when his hand stops, he is further up my leg and his fingers are pointing towards my cunt.  We both look at his hand and then he removes it and stands. "Your coffee's cold," he nods towards my mug, which has ceased steaming and has evaporated into pale sludge. "May I buy you another?" "I don't,” I’m stammering, stuttering, swallowing. He offers me his hand, firm. Don't say no. You can't say no.

Over coffee, I spill the sugar twice and my coffee three times. His name escapes me but I am right, he is too old for me, but I am not exactly overwhelmed with offers. He is an architect, or so he says, and he is reading a novel I have never heard of. I left my book upstairs. He peers at me over his mug, which he holds with both hands wrapped around it, as though he were warming them, but I can still feel his palm print burning against my thigh and I know his hands are not cold. They are large, strong, slightly rough, and I can see the cuticles fraying and imagine the calluses against my skin.

My suit is too tight, and I shift against it uncomfortably as the skirt rides up my thighs. "Don't,” he says, the third time I stop to adjust it, and he slides his hand up the back of my thigh, taking the skirt with it. He removes his hand and studies his work. I inhale, hoping that will eliminate the thigh spread somehow, but he doesn’t seem to mind.  "What do you do, quiet one?" he asks me, sipping from his mug, his lips thin and broad.  "I work in an office," I say, feeling stupid and gawkish, childish even and wishing I could run out. I am incapable of flirting, I know this, and the woman behind the counter knows this, why can't he just think and figure it out and just let me go? He just laughs, though. "Do you always read erotica in public?" 

There is something about his wording that is slightly British, but modest, and his voice is deep and warm around me as though I could press my palm against the broadness of his chest and feel the rumble. "No," I say, as I stumble over the words again. "I mean, I just, picked it up." "There's nothing to be ashamed of," he says, and I hear tenderness in his voice, though when I look up, I don’t see it in his face. He puts down his mug and lays his hand across mine. I jerk away and spill my coffee again; blushing thinking to myself, make it end, please make this end.

He leans forward and his tone becomes conspiratorial. I can smell the coffee on his breath, nearly taste the cream. "I found watching you as you read very arousing."  I am shaking from the tones of his voice and my cunt is calling out to him, and I am absolutely terrified of this man right at this very second, and more terrified because I don=t know if I am more afraid that he will kill me or make love to me. I jerk back again, coffee staining his arm. "I'm sorry," I say, and I’m almost in tears this time. I grab some napkins and dab at his arm.  "I just, I should go," you should have left me alone. He grabs my wrist encircling the bone, with the pudgy fingers and lays his other hand across mine. He laughs, genuine, his grip steel. I jerk away and spill my coffee again; I am blushing again; tears well up in my eyes.  Make it end, please make this end.

"Quiet One," he says.  He stands, takes the napkins from my hand, kisses me softly on the forehead, the cheek, and pulls back.  He is holding me by my shoulders, looking down at me.  Is that what you want?" He has a car so we take it, along rain slicked city streets, lamps reflecting in the asphalt, sidewalks quiet with trash and recycling. I am huddled against the door. 

At a stoplight, he does not look at me, but his hand finds my thighs and pulls one of my legs towards him, forcing them apart.  I can smell my own cunt, my own desire, my own heat, and I am sure he can too. "Would you do something for me?" he asks suddenly.  I don't say anything. He looks over at me. "Unbutton your blouse," he tells me softly.  It is an order, but it is not a command.  I sit for a moment, and then, leaning forward, I slip my suit jacket off and unbutton my blouse. There are holes in the lace of my bra and when he reaches over again, without looking, to run the back of his fingers over my breasts, my nipple pokes through the weave, dark rose against faded white. I inhale sharply, though he has barely touched me.  I know now what it will feel like when he does, and I want to scream out that I want this so much. But he pulls his hand away. "Could you take off your bra?" This time it is a question, but I cannot and will not answer no, though I hesitate with the hooks.

I realize that I will have to take off my shirt to take off my bra and I look outside but there is no one to see. This isn't how normal people do it, is it?  Is this how people get seduced?  I pull off my shirt, turning to pull the tail out from the waistband of my skirt; my naked breast brushes the cold window. I inhale sharply and I can hear Edward smile behind me. I have done this when I masturbate, held a breast against the coolness of a mirror, nipple kissing its own reflection. I love cold and ice against my skin, wanting more, and more before the welcoming heat of a mouth, teeth, lips, tongue.

He pulls over to the curb and parks the car. I am breathing heavily. He reaches over and again he trails the back of his hand over my breast, his knuckles teasing my nipples; my mouth parts. He unbuckles my seatbelt and then his own, he moves towards me. He kisses me softly once, and then lowers his head to my breasts, kissing around and across my collarbone, over the flesh, then finally catching each nipple in his mouth, sucking. I throw my head back, amazed, moaning, and my hand travels automatically to plunge into my cunt, my fingers at the ready. 

He doesn’t look up, he just grips my hand and pulls it behind my back as he bites my nipple, gently, his teeth electric against my skin. I start to cry out, “Please..." I beg, but he simply lowers his head to the other breast, still pinning my arm behind my back, he sucks and nibbles and chews until I am writhing beneath him. "Oh baby," I breathe, and I hope I sound like a romance novel when I do.  He lifts his head and releases my arm, nearly asleep. He reaches for my breasts and tugs at my nipples, pinching them between his thumb and forefinger, like he was testing for something. I jerk again, like a rag doll, and he nods, as though I have pleased him somehow.

He walks around to my side of the car and opens the door for me, chivalrous to the last, and I fumble to put on my blouse before I step onto the street. The light at the end of the block turns green and two cars drive by.  He shakes his head at me and pulls me to my feet, my blouse hanging on my arm, my nipples pouting against the night air, colder, wetter, than any mirror.  I start to object.  He pulls me to him and kisses me, hard, his tongue crushing against mine, tasting my teeth, my desperation.  He is hard, I can feel his cock against my stomach, and that pleases me, knowing that I did that.  He pulls away suddenly and then a car passes, and I am standing there, drugged with heat & lust, the headlights shine on my bare breasts, stained with bruises from his mouth, his hands, exposed for anyone to see, to touch.  My cunt is so wet, so wide, so ready, that I can hardly walk, and I knew, at this moment in time, I would do anything he asked.

The elevator creaks its way up the shaft, slatted light falling across my breasts, interrupted intermittently by the floors.  I look at this man, sliding a glance through my stumpy lashes, cheap mascara long since faded. He is considering my breasts, but he looks neither pleased nor displeased. I wonder if he is thinking he has made a mistake, now that he has seen the way the waistband of my skirt folds to accommodate the swell of my stomach. It's too late for a diet now. Ashamed, I reach to pull the blouse to cover me, and without looking away from my tits, he reaches out and slaps my hands back to my sides.  

"Sorry," I say, for what seems like the fifteenth time that night. He shakes his head.  Do not cover yourself unless I tell you to."  The elevator jerks to a stop and he gestures me out into the hallway.  I step uncertainly, my shoes clicking against the floor.  A few doors down the hall there is a man fumbling with his keys at his door.  He is tall, thin, looks foreign.  An orange brown leather jacket and a newspaper folded under his arm. He has spiky blonde hair, small black rimmed glasses; I think, European.  He looks up at us, and I want to move to cover myself, but I can feel Him behind me, and I don't dare.  

I feel very small, suddenly, between these two men. I half expect to be rewarded for leaving my shirt off, but of course, there is no reward.  The man at the door simply smiles at us as if he sees half naked women in the hallway all the time, and then opens the door to his apartment and steps in. He steers me down the corridor, the floor Alice in Wonderland  black diamonds, white diamonds, checker board, chess board, checkmate, Quiet One.  He slips the key in the lock and ushers me into a dark hallway.


Light ahead, dim yellow glow cast by an old shade, I walk toward it, drawn, like a moth.  It leads me into the living room, where the only thing I notice is the books;  hundreds of them, maybe thousands. Floor to ceiling bookshelves, and then stacked along the exposed brick walls when there is no longer enough room on the shelves.  I run my fingers along the shelves, tasting them with my fingers, so overwhelmed with quantity that I do not even read the titles.  He walks up behind me and I turn so my back is against the shelves, spine to spine with these books.  He stands in front of me this time, I want to run away so badly, I just want him to take away this ache, want him to suck on my nipples until they stop pulling at my skin, want him to swallow me whole.

He pulls off his shirt and I bite my lip at his chest;  broad, firm and muscular in that rigid, quiet way that is the most masculine of all.  Curls and whorls of hair threaded with gray, and I can imagine the taste of the salt on my skin.  My tongue flicks out, serpent like.  I look up at his face and see the same gray lining his temples, scattered through his hair, his goatee, which has sincerity about it.  I catch myself wondering whether there will be gray hair, well, you know, everywhere, and the image of his hard cock rising up from his thighs makes me swallow hard.

I watch as he fingers the collar of my shirt and then slips it over my shoulders, letting it fall in a heap on the floor.  No different than what I would have done, undressing myself.  He reaches for my hands, which I am holding obediently by my sides, fighting the urge to scrape my nails down his chest to the trail of hair that disappears into his waistband, and he brings them to his mouth, nuzzling the knuckles, breathing against my palms.  Then he lifts them higher, interlocks our fingers, presses the backs of my hands against the bookshelves, I feel the cool painted wood.  I have to stretch to keep my hands up as high as he is holding them, pinning me against the hard covers of the books, and only when I am immobilized just so, he leans down to kiss me.  His kiss is soft, he tests before he attacks, tasting my teeth, my tongue with his own.  

It makes me start to shiver all over again, makes me forget about the ache in my arms and think about the ache in my cunt again.  Pushing my arms out, he makes me trace a snow angel in the air.  He slides both our hands under my breasts and leaves mine cupping them, proffering them, a harem girl with a tray of silver fruit.  He steps back and I lean to follow him, drawn by his simple existence, by the fishing line of tension he has drawn to my cunt.  "You can put your hands down." he tells me, when my biceps are burning by my sides.  He lets my hands drop and my fingers flicker, instinct telling me to reach for what I want, newfound knowledge telling me that if I reach I will not capture it.  "Would you come with me?" he asks? "Yes," I answer, too quickly, and he turns and walks down another hallway, by the chrome kitchen, closed doors.  In his bedroom, again, he has one lamp burning, this one so quiet I can see little more than outline and shadows. He leaves the door open and I stand awkwardly by the bed.

"Would you undress for me?" he asks, and I wonder why he asks me yes or no questions when I would not dare to say no.  I nod, and fumble for the fastening at the back of my skirt.  I hesitate, consciously nervous again.  Do I take it all off at once, the skirt, the pantyhose, and the panties?  I can=t bear to have him see me standing in my pantyhose, my faded underwear, so I hook my thumbs inside all three and begin to pull, stumbling and sitting down heavily as I pull them off the rest of the way, glowing in humiliation. 

It doesn=t look like this on TV.  "So we'll work on that one," he says.  He is leaning against the wall, a casual observer, his shoulder blades pressing against the doorframe, stomach and hips jutting out, he makes a taut bow with the wall.  "I'm sorry," I apologize again.  He shakes his head and lifts himself from the wall. "You'll learn,” he says simply, and I wonder what he means by that.  He walks towards me. "Turn around." I stand and turn, and he slips his palms under my bent elbows, cupping them in a familiar intimacy. His breath is hot on my hair and though I cannot see him, electricity tells me exactly where he is. I raise my hands to touch my own breasts. "No," he says sharply and grips my hand. "Not unless I tell you to." He slips his hands up to my shoulders, his skin tough and slightly rough, sighing against my own. He rubs my shoulders for a moment, relaxing them from their tight clenching, and then he pushes down ever so slightly. I kneel on the bed in compliance. 

"Quiet One," he says, and breathes into my hair again as his hands move. One hand slides under my breast, cupping it, thumb strumming the nipple, the other along my stomach, pressing when I inhale to escape the touch, fingers lacing through my pubic hair.  "Ahhh," I moan, and at the sound of pleasure, he pulls away.  His hands skim back up to my hair, thread through so they are curled around my head, and he pushes down.  I let my hands support me on all fours.  He pushes again.  I lower again, until I am kissing the bedding, my ass in the air, careful that my hands are balled into fists, barely touching my own skin.  He lets me go and steps back.

I spin away for a moment, letting myself see what he sees, a spill of reddish brown hair over the sheets, sun deprived white skin glowing in the darkness, the lips of my cunt pouting and glistening, my ass spread wide. Open to him, for him.  His hand traces the bones of my spine, jarring over each one, and then he trails one finger between the cheeks of my ass, down into my cunt, over it so slightly, and a slight dip to avoid my clit.  He pulls away.  "Don’t Move," he says. I don't Move.  I hear him, the rustle of his pants, and his feet on the floor.  The door clicks closed.

The silence, after a while, does become deafening.  Sweat pools where my stomach meets my thighs, and the exposure of my cunt to the air does nothing to dry it.  I want to touch myself, release it.  If I were home, I would surely be shaking in the throes of a self delivered orgasm, my back arching, hand pressing harder against myself to feel the throbbing, one, two, three, so hard, four, five, softer, disappearing into shame.  Is this better?  I move my hand, but the sound of my betrayal is so enormous I stop myself.  I lick my lips and shift, and then stop myself again. Don't. Move.  I cannot hear any trace of his footsteps.  I picture him in my mind again, surprised at the clarity with which I remember his details.  My memory has a way of slipping, so that I cannot recall the faces of even my family in their absence.  He comes easily to me.




The Quiet One



"The first time you do it is the best," Greg said. "My first time, I just looked at it, this guy's cock. I just knew I had to do it. I always had that curiosity. I wanted it in my mouth. I wanted to know what it was like...."

We were sitting on the couch. My couch, my house. Home alone. Our wives were out for the evening.

"You can't understand what it's like until you try it," he added with a meaningful smile.

Shadows danced on the wall of the living-room. The TV was on but I'd muted the volume. I hadn't turned the light on.

"If you just did it once," he said more slowly, "If you tried it, you'd love it. Trust me."

It was 9:00pm on a wet Wednesday evening in late July. Outside it was already getting dark. Inside the concealing shadows seemed to gather softly around us.

The light from the TV flickered on Greg's face. His eyes were in shadow one moment, then I'd see them shining with an intense, eager light. We'd known each other for years.

I knew what he wanted; he wanted a blow-job. He'd steered the conversation in that direction. It was my own fault; a couple of weeks ago I'd admitted to him over a few drinks that the thought of it interested me. Greg wasn't the type to forget something like that.

"Why do you think women love it so much?" he said. "It's like nothing you've ever done before. Nothing else even comes close."

His smile had faded. His voice had softened and there was something new in his tone. He looked and sounded like a guy who knew he was close to getting what he wanted. I'd been letting him do all the talking and Greg loved to talk. I was the quiet one.

He said he'd blown a guy once, a few years ago, and the guy hadn't reciprocated. Ever since then he'd wanted to know how it felt. To hear him talk it was bordering on an obsession. I'd thought about it myself, too. I think a lot of guys do.

"Just try it this one time," he said, and now there was an unmistakable undercurrent of excitement in his voice. "No one will ever know. It's just the two of us. You said you'd thought about it, now's your chance..."

Just then my glance happened to fall on the front of his jeans and something turned over inside me when I saw the shape of his cock showing through the material.

Greg was becoming aroused. He was getting hard. Talking about it was turning him on. The shadows from the TV flickered everywhere and now and then as the light changed I could see the growing bulge in his jeans. I could see the thick shape of his cock starting to make a tent in the material.

I looked up quickly and he was watching me and my face suddenly felt hot. Greg didn't blink. He held my gaze and I saw the longing in his eyes. Hope, desire, all of it. He smiled a little but it was a tense, preoccupied sort of smile, as if a part of him still wasn't sure how it would all turn out.

Greg had deliberately steered the conversation this way. Inside, I suddenly had butterflies. It was true, I'd thought about. I'd thought about it a lot. My face burned but at the same time I felt a sudden, reckless impulse to do it. Just to see what it was like. To find out for myself.

"Okay?" Greg said. Now he sounded cautiously excited. I could hear him breathing.

I didn't say anything. I could feel the intensity of his gaze and I became aware that my own cock was beginning to stiffen.

"Just... just try it," he said. He kept his eyes on me but his hands went to the front of his jeans. He fumbled with the button and ran down the zip.

His lips were parted and I heard him swallow. He was still staring at me and I couldn't resist looking down again as he opened the front of his jeans. He was suddenly in a hurry and without stopping he pushed down the front of his black briefs and exposed his cock. Released, it thrust up suddenly from the front of his jeans and came up almost fully erect.

Shadows from the TV flickered over Greg's cock. I could see it and then I couldn't. The light changed and I could see his thick shaft in perfect detail. He was uncut, the same as me. His cock stood pale and hard in the white TV light. I saw the thin veins under the skin and then the picture changed and the shadows waned and his cock slipped into darkness again.

I could hear Greg breathing. There was a tense, watchful, hopeful, look in his eyes every time the light touched his face. He slowly leaned back against the cushions and at the same time he slipped down a little lower on the couch and opened his legs a little wider. There was a rapt, expectant expression on his face.

In some ways I couldn't quite believe what was happening, that we'd reached this stage, or that I would or ever could actually give Greg a blow-job. I could feel my heart beating with a slow, deliberate rhythm. My face was still hot and my cock was stiff and aching.

It felt wrong and I was nervous but I was excited too. I'd read stories about this on the internet. I'd looked at pictures and watched videos. I knew I wanted to do it, all I had to do now was take this one step.

Greg was waiting. Teasing shadows slipped over his cock, moving up and down, exposing it then concealing it again.

I leaned slowly closer. I'd never seen another guy hard in real life, never touched another guy. I glanced at Greg and he was watching almost spellbound. His eyes flickered and his lips were parted and he slowly nodded encouragement.

His cock loomed larger as I leaned over it and lowered my head. His foreskin was pulled back a little way to expose the round, shiny head of his cock. Up close Greg's cock looked obscene and bigger than it had before. As I got closer I could see it in more detail and I realised I could smell him too; a warm, pleasant, clean and exciting, hot-cock smell.

At first I didn't really know what to do. I decided on the spur of the moment to suck it and I was surprised how wide I actually had to open my mouth to accomodate him. I felt my lips touch his foreskin and I took the whole, swollen tip of his cock cautiously into my mouth, closed my lips around it, and gently sucked.

It was like nothing I'd ever done before. I felt joined to Greg. His skin was soft and warm but I could feel his hardness, too. I let my saliva moisten him and then I opened my mouth a little wider and took him in a little deeper. His cock seemed to fill my mouth, the only way I could breath was through my nose. I held him like that for just a moment and then I slowly sucked, lifting my head at the same time, and letting my lips drag softly over his cock until I drew my head away.

Greg moaned. His cock jerked, and in the light of the TV his foreskin shone wetly with my saliva. Greg was panting. I glanced at him and his eyes were shining. He nodded with a plea in his eyes, soundlessly willing me on, but I didn't need any encouragement. I wanted his cock in my mouth again.

I took hold of the base of his cock and lowered my head a second time. I was discovering to my pleasure that a cock is perfectly shaped for sucking. I opened my mouth again and felt a growing hunger stirring inside me as I took him into my mouth. This time I moaned with sheer delight. I couldn't help it.

Once again his swollen head filled my mouth, somehow it seemed to belong there. I could feel his heat and the aching hardness of his cock. His skin was soft and warm against my lips. My saliva lubricated him. I felt a deep connection with Greg, it was more than physical. It was the most arousing and intimate thing I had ever done.

I bobbed my head gently, slowly taking in more of him, then lifting my head and letting my lips drag slowly over his head. Every time I did it I immediately wanted to do it again. There was something highly addictive about performing such a deeply personal act. It seemed to awaken a sudden, aching hunger inside me.

Part of what I liked was Greg's reactions, he moaned frequently, and his cock seemed to be getting harder and thicker all the time. Every time I lowered my mouth over him he squirmed and lifted his hips to meet me. I was finding it hard to breath but I didn't care. I was developing a hunger for him. His cock was wet and glistening with my saliva and I alternated, bobbing my head fast, and then slow, while Greg writhed and gasped.

I began to slowly stroke him with my right hand while I sucked his cock. I'd never stroked another guy's cock before but now everything I did seemed natural and instinctive. I liked the way his cock felt in my hand, the way his skin moved. At the back of my mind I was dimly aware of my own raging erection but my own needs seemed unimportant and secondary to the pleasure I was giving Greg.

Without even thinking about it I pushed his jeans lower. I tugged at his briefs and slid them down his thighs while Greg moaned. He was breathing faster all the time. I paused to catch my breath and my mouth felt suddenly empty without his cock. I could taste him on my lips and tongue.

I glanced at Greg and saw how his fingers were curled like claws gripping the edge of the couch. He was panting, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He gave a brief, breathless, nervous sort of laugh. He smiled but it didn't reach his eyes. In his eyes I saw the need for more, I saw his hunger, his desperate ache for completion.

I stroked him lazily a couple of times and then, on the spur of the moment, I moved my hand lower and gently cupped his sac. I felt his balls, full and heavy, loosely suspended inside. I squeezed, very gently, experimentally, testing their weight, their feel. I could feel his wrinkled sac and the brush of his pubic hairs against my palm. I gathered his sac in my fingers and tugged gently and Greg pushed with his hips, straining with the intimacy of my touch.

His cock looked bigger now, obscenely swollen, longer and thicker and harder than before. The flickering shadows from the TV continued to pool and recede across his bare skin. Every vein in his cock seemed to be showing through the skin, standing out, swollen and pulsating and throbbing. His foreskin had pulled back about halfway to expose his wide, mushroom-shaped head. His slit looked like a tiny, tight-lipped mouth. A drop of milky pre-cum glistened then slowly trickled over the exposed expanse of his head.

I was still cupping his balls and enjoying the warm, exciting weight of his sac nestled against my palm. I squeezed and tugged gently again and his cock seemed to swell and stiffen even more. It thrust up aggressively from Greg's nest of dark, pubic hair and I moved my hand and grasped it again half way down it's seductive length and felt how heavy and thick it was. I relished its weighty potential.

I watched my hand as I stroked him a couple of times, then I slipped from the couch and knelt beside him. I could feel Greg watching me, I could feel his aching need. I moved my hand higher to just below his swollen head and gently tightening my grip I slowly drew back his foreskin. The skin stretched tight and then it pulled back and slipped down to reveal his naked, swollen head.

For a moment I just looked at it. His cock glistened with pre-cum. The shadows from the TV moved and shifted continuously. I stroked him again and his hot, hard shaft filled my hand. It felt right. It felt perfect. The skin moved slowly as I stroked him up and down. His bloated head was dark and suffused with blood. His shaft was pale and thick. The light from the TV made everything black and white.

There was no sense of time passing. Everything seemed to happen, one thing after another, in a smooth, natural progression. I was breathing fast. I could still taste his cock in my mouth. Greg's fingers still made claws on the edge of the couch. I felt a rush of excitement, caught up in the moment, I was filled with a new-found sense of enthusiasm for this new pleasure I'd discovered.

Greg watched intently as I leaned over his cock again. The naked hunger in his eyes spurred me on. His scent was stronger now, a rich, masculine, spermy, hot-cock smell. I breathed it in and holding his cock erect I lowered my mouth over his swollen head. Now, with his foreskin pulled back, I felt the warm, soft, swollen mushroom-head of his cock as it filled my mouth. It was a deeper, more exciting, more intimate sensation than before.

I moaned hungrily and Greg stiffened beneath me. I could feel a wild, irresistible hunger growing inside me. A desperate desire to suck him. A deep-felt need to give him pleasure and to sate my own hunger at the same time. I bobbed my head up and down and now I swirled my tongue over his swollen head and tasted his salty pre-cum. I grasped his rigid shaft and bobbed my head and Greg squirmed beneath me.

His taste filled my mouth. My lips were stretched around his cock. I couldn't breath but it didn't matter. His head became slick with my saliva and my lips slipped easily and smoothly over him. I felt again that deep sense of a connection between us. I began to stroke him as I moved my head faster and faster. There was an exciting sense of something deeper and more important happening than my simply giving him a blow-job, a sense of something deeper and more meaningful taking place. Again, it seemed beyond the physical. We were connected somehow in other ways, mind and body.

I bobbed my head faster and faster and I stroked him harder. I moaned and Greg writhed. I was filled by the hungry need to complete what I had started. Consumed by the desire to hurry Greg to his climax. My mouth ached, my jaw ached, but I didn't care. There was only one thing on my mind and nothing else mattered. His cock was slick with a mixture of my saliva and his own flowing pre-cum. My lips glided faster and faster. I felt myself losing control, caught up in the contagious excitement of the moment.

I became aware that Greg was talking, he was saying something, whispering breathlessly. I couldn't hear his words but I knew from the tone of his voice and the tensing of his cock that he was encouraging me.

I felt his hands on my head and I knew he was watching. He was using his hands to guide my head up and down. He was watching and fucking my mouth and our mutual excitement was contagious and overwhelming. He urged me faster and I complied.

He climaxed a moment later. His cock stiffened and he groaned and his hands tightened on my head. I felt his cock spasm in my mouth and suddenly I felt a spurt of cum that seemed to explode in the back of my throat. I was hardly aware of it before I had swallowed it. My mouth was immediately flooded with his thick, salty tasting cum. It seemed to be everywhere, coating my tongue, thick and hot and salt-tangy in my mouth.

I choked unexpectedly and gasped as I lifted my head from his cock. Long, silvery, glistening strands of saliva mixed with Greg's cum stretched from my lips to his shining, swollen head. I swallowed the cum in my mouth. I was still stroking him and Greg ejaculated again. I was gasping and panting for breath and still stroking him and his cum spattered and came down dribbling over my fingers.

Greg let out a deep, animal groan. It sounded wrenched from him. His hips jerked and his cock spasmed again and before I knew it I'd taken him into my mouth again. By now his shaft was slick with my saliva and his own cum. I stroked him and sucked him at the same time and I could taste fresh cum oozing from him. I felt his cock stiffen again and again. I could hear someone moaning, a hungry, exciting continuous sound that seemed to go on and on. It was only a moment later that I realised it was me.

I felt Greg's cock soften even as I sucked it. It lost its rigid firmness. It became pliable in my hands. I dragged my lips over it one last time and it flopped heavily from my mouth. I was still holding it. It was glistening. I stayed like that, bent over his cock, gasping for breath, stunned by what I'd done but gratified and elated too. All at once I felt a sense of relief and excitement and achievement. My lips ached and my mouth felt abused. My jaw was sore.

His cock flopped in my hand. His head glistened wetly. I had his cum on my fingers. It had dripped down between his legs and shone among the sparse hairs that grew on his limp sac.

"Fuck," Greg panted. "Ahh, fuck. That was...."

He was almost lying on the couch. He shook his head and didn't finish. He was gasping for breath, his mouth hung open. He smiled, then his head fell back. I grinned at him. I felt like laughing. I felt happy inside. I stroked his cock absently then I let it go and looked at my hands. Thick strands of cum had dribbled over my fingers.

"You can't," Greg panted, "you can't tell me you didn't enjoy it."

He raised his head and we looked at each other. We were still breathing hard from our exertions. Flickering shadows from the TV danced over us and up and down the walls.

I didn't say anything. I was the quiet one.