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Friends or Lovers

By: Lucity



The knock came at midnight, almost to the second. I was already in my shorts and t-shirt, ready to get in bed for the night when it came. No one ever comes to my door without ringing me on my intercom first so I was a bit more than a little cautious when I went to the door.

"Who is it?" I called.

A familiar voice rang out. "It's me. Marty."

I quickly unlocked and opened my door. "Marty? What the heck you doing here at this time of night." I became concerned. "Hey, is everything okay?"

I moved away from the door to let him in. His tall frame moved through the door. "Yeah, great, I was just heading home from Rob and Terry's house and I needed to talk to you." He noticed my get up. "Hey, I wasn't thinking, you're all ready for bed." He moved towards the door again. "I'll just go."

"Don't be silly," I protested. "It's Friday night, I was just going to read for a couple of hours. I don't have to be up early for anything, tomorrow." I motioned to the couch. "Have a seat."

He took off his raincoat and tossed it on a chair.

It was early December and it had been raining on and off for the past week. It was my favorite time of year and I was enjoying the cozy feeling of being in my little apartment, snug and warm.

I sat in my usual spot on the sofa and Marty sat at the opposite end. He seemed a little nervous. "What's up? I asked.

"I just wanted to talk to you. I feel like we have some unfinished business to discuss." He looked me straight in the eyes.

His seemingly angry statement startled me, but Marty and I had been friends for a long time and I figured our friendship could take any disagreements we might have.

He kept eye contact when he asked, "Why didn't you ever tell me you were in love with me?"

Maybe this was going to test our friendship more than I ever thought possible.

***********

Marty and I met in college. He was one of many boyfriends that my ditzy roommate, Jenny, had lurking around her. Marty was different than her usual taste. He was tall and muscular and really very handsome, which is what Jenny went for but Marty had something that most of her other boyfriends lacked and that was a working brain. He would come over to pick Jenny up and usually had to wait for her until she was ready. And I tell you that girl was never ready on time. I would keep Marty company while he waited and we would have the greatest conversations.

Marty was pre-med at the time and I was a science major, though I didn't know in which direction I was going to go with it. We had a lot of the same tastes in books and movies and our conversations about politics were lively and stimulating. We often had to agree to disagree. Our sense of humor was similar and we loved to crack each other up. I was a pretty good mimic and Marty loved it when I imitated people we both knew, especially, Jenny.

Even when Marty and Jenny and eventually Jenny and I, had our parting of the ways, Marty and I remained fast friends.

I was attracted to Marty. Who wouldn't be? He was smart, funny, tall and athletic. And did I mention, sexy as hell? He was a gorgeous mix of Mexican and Italian. He got his mothers perfectly tanned skin, sensuous lips and easy nature and his father's dark wavy hair and startling blue eyes. What a devastating combination!

I was cute in my way, though I knew that I was not Marty's type. He tended to lean towards the Jenny's of the world, tall, leggy blonds who absolutely fawned over him. I was none of these things. I was short, dark haired and have a very round figure. I also challenged Marty at every turn. I had no illusions of my devastating beauty but I have delicately arched brows, large dark eyes and full lips. People have accused me of having had some help in that area. Another thing that people liked (I like it too) is my deep sexy voice.

Between girlfriends, Marty and I would be inseparable. It was those times that were the hardest for me. I would find myself fantasizing about Marty figuring out that I was perfect girl for him and that we would ride off into the sunset together. But eventually he would meet someone new and I would be pushed into the background again where I would convince myself that I didn't really love Marty in a romantic sense.

Half way through college I realized that I didn't want to head in the science direction and became an art major. Marty was very supportive of my decision. He went to all my art shows and was the first person to buy one of my pieces. He was only pre-med because he didn't know what else he wanted to do. And it made his family happy. So it was great that at least one of his friends was going to get to do something they wanted to do.

After college I moved to Los Angeles. I had accepted a position as an assistant to a pretty well known artist and felt a new start in a new city would be great push for my career. It also made it easier to keep my feelings for Marty at bay.

For the two years Marty was in medical school, I was immersed in the art scene. I had a couple of internships in different parts of the country and I even went to England for three months to work on a major project with several other artists. I was enjoying myself immensely. I kept in touch with Marty through that time but both of us were pretty busy and we didn't see each other at all then. I had pretty much convinced myself that I didn't love him anymore but once again he entered my life. Marty had accepted a residency at UCLA and would be moving to Los Angeles.

******

I don't think either of us moved for at least 5 minutes. My head spun, trying to think of what I should say, if anything. Marty just waited for my response. My mouth dropped open and then I closed it again.

Marty finally removed his intense gaze from me. "I don't know what made Terry want to tell me this now. She seems to think you've felt this way since college." He looked at me again. "Is it true?"

I finally gathered my wits about me. "Marty, I don't know what Terry told you, but I haven't had those feelings in a really long time. I love you. I really do. But as my great friend. My brother." I sat forward and put my hand on his arm. "I realized a long time ago that I had to stop living in a fantasy. And I have gotten past it." I sat back again. "You need never have known. But thanks to Terry . . . well, now you do."

He nodded. Then he tilted his head as if a thought occurred to him. "What did you mean fantasy? I still don't get why you wouldn't tell me."

I sighed. "Marty, look at us. You're everybody's golden boy and I'm everybody's best friend, I could never compete with the Jenny's and Michelle's of the world. I wasn't what you were looking for and I knew that. I accepted it as reality."

Marty just shook his head. "Why do you always do that? You always make me out at some prince, some prize and your only second place." It was his turn to lean forward. "You are the smartest and most accomplished women I've ever met. You challenge me at every turn and put me in my place when I need it. You've always made it seem as if you didn't need romance or . . anything else, that you had it all together. But I guess I was blind and foolish to think that you were beyond all that. Everyone needs love. And not just platonic love but true, deep, physical, emotional, unconditional love." He moved closer to me and took my hands. "I know I've been looking for it all my life. And to think I could have found it right in front of me all those years ago."

I froze, and then quickly stood up. "Don't!" I moved even further away before I turned to look at him. "I don't want your pity. I don't need you to feel sorry for me."

He spread his hands. "I don't. I happen to love you."

"This is nuts." I shook my head. "You don't love me. Ok, maybe you do. But as a friend, a sister, a . . . a companion." I started pacing back and forth. "You know everything about me. We're comfortable with each other like a pair of old shoes." I sighed. "I need more. I need it all. I need to be swept off my feet! I need to be romanced and I've never had that! I want to be desired and fawned over . . I want to be told I'm beautiful." I stopped pacing and tried not to cry. "I want to be loved so badly it hurts. It hurts a lot. But I can't let myself believe that just because you're having some kind of mid- life crisis or worse. . . feeling lonely, suddenly you love me." I was starting to get angry now. "I'm just supposed to fall into your arms in gratitude because you finally feel something and take pity on the fat girl!"

"Stop it!" It was his turn to be angry. "I don't feel sorry or pity. And I don't expect you to just fall into my arms." He came up to me to look me in the eyes. "I've been an idiot." He raised my chin to make me look into his eyes. "I have always loved you."

******

I was more in love with him than ever. He had matured and could be more serious now that he was a resident. We fell into the old pattern that when he wasn't pursuing a new girlfriend we would spend all our free time together. He loved going to the different art gallery openings with me. We talked about anything and everything and my heart would soar. Then he would meet a new honey and I would be shuffled off into the background again, kicking myself for letting myself fall all over again.

Then the inevitable happened, Marty found "the one". Her name was Michelle and she was gorgeous. Long brown hair, stunning green eyes and a figure that could make grown men cry. And to make it all worse, she was smart and funny. Marty and Michelle became inseparable. I hated her. Within 3 months they moved in together and within the year, horror of all horrors, they were engaged.

My career was flourishing. I was becoming well known in the area and I had had my own showing at a prominent gallery in New York. I couldn't have been happier with that part of my life. My love life? Well, that was another matter. I don't know what was wrong with me. I had many men friends and acquaintances. I was constantly meeting new people but no one ever kept me interested enough to go on more than a couple of dates and not once was I ever even propositioned to sleep with any of them. Well, there was the 72-year-old gallery owner who said I reminded him of his dead wife, but I don't count that one. I knew I was sabotaging those dates because no one could compare with Marty. Stupid, huh?

I knew there was trouble in paradise for Marty and Michelle when Marty asked me to be his "best man" at his wedding. I never saw or heard them argue about it, but I ended up in peach taffeta as a bridesmaid just the same. They were a perfect couple, he the up and coming doctor and she the hospital administrator's assistant. He was becoming known as a skilled doctor and she wanted to have children right away. They were the perfect couple.

*****

Tears formed in my eyes. "You're going to break my heart." I pulled away. "I can't let us do this!" I moved over to the couch and sat back down. "You're desperate. You're going through a mid-life crisis! You're biological clock is ticking!" I threw up my arms in desperation.

Marty stared at me then burst out laughing. "You're a nut and I love you."

I covered my face with my hands. "You have to stop saying that! I can't let you do this. I can't let myself do this!"

I felt him move over to the couch and sit by my side. He caressed my shoulder. "Why, not? We have nothing to loose and everything to gain."

I shook my head but didn't uncover my face. "No. We have everything to loose." I looked at him then. "I can't loose you as my friend, as my family. That would kill me. It's all I have." I was trembling.

I allowed Marty to gather me into his arms for comfort. "All right." He said, his lips in my hair. "I won't push. But, let me stay the night."

I pulled away from him. "What?"

"No. I meant, on the couch." He gestured towards the darkened window. "It's pouring out there. I'll be a perfect gentleman." He held up three fingers. "Scouts honor."

I smacked his hand lightly. "You were never a scout." As if to support his plea a gust of wind and rain shook the apartment windows. I gave him a sidelong glance. "Well . . . I guess it wouldn't hurt."

********

I rarely saw Marty during the six years of his marriage to Michelle. All their new friends were couples involved in the medical community. Michelle was co-chair for several of the large fundraising events that went on at the hospital where they both worked and none of Marty's friends were ever invited. I think I was able to have lunch with Marty twice in 6 years. I realize now, after talking with Rob and Terry, friends of ours from college, that Michelle made sure Marty was always unavailable to his old friends. But we all still tried.

Marty never made me aware of any trouble that may have been going on in his marriage until he came knocking at my door one Sunday afternoon. He simply told me that his marriage was over and asked if he could stay on my couch for a couple of day until he found more permanent digs. I wondered why he didn't want to stay at a hotel but I was happy to have him around.

Later that night I asked him if he wanted to talk about it. He just shook his head and repeated, "It's over."

I told him we could share the bed, since we had done so several times in the past. I reminded him about the Spring break weekend we had spent in Vegas, back in our college days. The hotel had made an error in our reservation and gave us only one bed. Since it was spring break, there were no other rooms to be had and we made the best of it and slept in the same bed for the entire weekend. This time he refused, saying that for now he thought his insomnia might keep me awake.

That first night as I lay in bed trying to sleep I could hear him pacing back in forth in the living room. I wanted to go to him but I knew if he wanted to talk he would come to me sooner or later.

I drifted off to sleep and then woke again a few hours later. I listened and could still hear him pacing. Just as I was dozing off again I heard a soft knock on my door. "Lily?" He called softly.

"I'm awake." I called back. "Come in, Marty."

He poked his head through the open door. "Sorry, I . . . never mind. Go back to sleep." He started to close the door again.

"Don't be silly. Please, come in." I sat up in bed and started to get up.

He started to protest, but pushed the door open wider. "No. You need your rest. I'm alright." There was enough light coming from my bedroom window to see that he was in his t-shirt and boxers. "I . . .oh, Lily. My life is such a mess." He covered his eyes with one hand and hung his head. I knew he was crying.

I quickly got up and went to him. "Oh, honey, no." I put my arms around him and he clung to me, crying softly. "You're going to get through this. I promise." I stroked his hair and his back. I guided him to the bed and sat him down on the edge. I kept up the soothing words and held him tenderly. I eventually coaxed him into bed and sat next to him until he relaxed enough to fall asleep. I sat there for sometime just watching him sleep, stroking his hair. Finally, I slipped under the covers next to him and slept as well.

For the next two months we slept side by side. He never spoke about Michelle and I stopped asking if he wanted to talk. Somehow I knew he was gaining comfort just being there with me, even if we didn't discuss his marriage. Finally, one morning he told me he had found an apartment and was moving out that weekend. And that was the end of that.

Our relationship resumed almost exactly as it had been seven years previous. We were both successful in our chosen careers now. Marty had decided to go into practice with a colleague and I was selling my artwork all over the world. Life was pretty good for both of us.

*********

"Great. Just get me a blanket and pillow and I'll be fine." He got up and started to remove the pillows off the sofa.

I grabbed the pillows from him and threw them back on the couch. "Don't be silly. We'll share the bed." I walked into the bedroom and started to arrange the blankets and pillows.

He reluctantly followed me into the bedroom. "You sure?"

I rolled my eyes at him. "Don't be silly." I said again. "You're still my best friend. You're still the person I trust more than anyone else in the world." I sat on the edge of the bed ready to get under the covers. "You're delusions of love haven't changed who you are." And I slipped under the covers.

As he undressed, he shook his head. "You know, Lily? Sometimes you're the most pragmatic person I've ever met."

As I switched off the bedroom lamp I asked. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

He rolled onto his side and drew the covers up to his neck. "Ask me in the morning. Goodnight, Lily."

I snuggled down. "'Night."

After a few moments his voice came out of the darkness. "I love you."

"Shut up." I replied, exasperatedly. But I was smiling.

Rain still fell the next morning as I began to stir. My eyes flashed open when a voice startled me, "Morning, beautiful." Marty was leaning on one elbow watching me sleep, a dopey smile on his face.

"Jesus!" I groaned and pulled the blankets over my face. I knew my hair looked like a rats nest and that there had to be pillow creases etched onto my 37 year old face.

I peaked over the edge of the blanket. He on the other hand looked as sexy as all hell! His hair was tousled and during the night he must have taken off his shirt because his well-muscled arms and chest were bare. He moved to pull the blanket down from my face. "Come on. I didn't get to give you a good night kiss, so at least let me kiss you good morning." A teasing light lit his eyes.

I yanked the blanket back over my face, "You're insane!" I quickly rubbed my eyes and ran my finger through my hair as best as I could under the blanket. A quick breath test and I peaked out again.

"Come on. I'm serious. Just a quick morning kiss." He didn't look teasing anymore. "How dangerous could that be?"

This was it. This was the moment where if we kissed and laughed in each other's face, would that ruin our friendship forever? Or if we kissed and it felt right, does it mean we were meant to be? Or am I just going to jump his bones cause I'm horny and I've wanted him forever? Oh, God!

I quickly moistened my lips and swallowed hard. I tentatively drew down the blanket. "Morning." I said. 

Friends or Lovers Ch. 02



**It's been a long time since I submitted anything and I really didn't know where this was going for the longest time. No sex this time, sorry. Enjoy anyway.**

Marty's heavenly blue eyes stared into mine. I had seen that look before when he was about to do something new and exciting, like getting on the scariest rollercoaster at an amusement park.

His head slowly came closer and I could see every detail of his perfect face. The dark lashes, the sweep of his arched brow, the way an unruly lock of hair dared to mar his perfect forehead. I saw it all in incredible detail as I held my breath waiting for the inevitable.

I allowed my eyes to close and the light in front of my lids darkened as Marty leaned his face over me. He paused just a breath away. It was all I could do to hold still. I felt his warm breath on my already over-heated skin.

Finally, the tip of his nose lightly touched my cheek as his lips came into contact with the corner of my mouth. The most gentle pressure and he was gone.

I still had my eyes closed when I felt the movement on the edge of the bed. "Jeez, woman! Are you going to stay in bed all day? I'm starving." His voice was full of humor. My eyes snapped open to see that he was already at the bathroom door and he glanced over his shoulder with a grin, "I'm gonna have a shower." The door closed with a snap. I heard his muffled chuckle.

I pressed my palms over my eyelids. Oh, my heart can't take this! I pressed so hard I started to see lights flash. I exhaled with a groan and sat up.

Every teenage thought and insecurity flew through my head. What did that kiss mean? Could he really love me? Did I screw up somehow? Will he ask me to prom? An involuntary giggle escaped me and I pressed my fingers to my lips, afraid he'd heard me. I could hear the water from the shower and a picture of him wet and naked flashed through my brain. I shook my head trying to think straight.

"Make breakfast." I told myself. I grabbed an old cotton robe from the back of my closet and headed for the kitchen. I didn't have much food in my fridge but I could at least make a decent omelet.

I was lost in thought as I cooked. I moved the pan off the fire about to reach over to get a couple of plates when his warm hands encircled my waist. I gasped and flinched in surprise. "Did I scare you?" he breathed in my hair.

I could feel the heat from his body as he pressed into me. "I forgot you were here." I tried to sound casual but my voice trembled slightly. I felt the rumble of his chuckle on my back.

He pressed his cheek into the side of my neck and inhaled. "You smell good."

God help me, it felt so good to have his strong arms wrapped around me. "It's the eggs. I dabbed a little behind each ear." Why did my voice sound foreign to me? I almost forgot how to move my lips naturally.

I felt his cheek tighten with his smile. "Naw. It's definitely you." His breath brushed my collar bone and I tried to suppress a shiver. "You smell like sun and rain. . and summer." He inhaled again. "And . . .lemons?"

"Fabric softener." I croaked. "Aren't you hungry? The eggs are getting cold." My hands reached for the plates again.

It happened so quickly, I never would figure out how I didn't fall over. He spun me around, his left hand at the small of my back, pressing me to him. His right hand held the side of my neck. "I want a proper morning kiss."

His lips were on mine. Soft and insistent. A small whimper escaped me and my lips parted slightly. My arms didn't know what to do, they hung lifeless at my sides. He pulled back but didn't move away.

My eyes fluttered open, confusion etched deeply in them. He took my wrists and placed my hands on his bare shoulders, then he opened my robe and his right hand moved inside my robe and under the back of my shirt. My skin tingled and burned where his hand touched me. His left hand snaked under my arm to hold the back of my neck.

I've always read that eyes could smolder with desire but never could imagine what that meant. Now I knew. Marty's eyes smoldered with desire. They were dark and intense and I couldn't look away. I could only stare back in wonder.

His lips were on mine again, more insistent than before. He parted his lips but didn't deepen the kiss, just molded his mouth to mine, playing with each lip in turn.

I don't know how long it took but I suddenly realized that my hands were in his hair, holding his head, running over his neck and shoulders, his face. His own hands were not still. The hand at my back ranged over my shoulder blades down to my hip, caressed my ribs and slid under the waistband of my pajamas. His other hand was in my hair, on my face, neck and shoulder.

Slowly, I pulled away and placed my heated forehead against his chest. I tried to slow my breathing and pounding heartbeat. His hands rubbed my back and I could hear his ragged breathing start to go back to normal.

"Wow." I sighed shakily into his chest.

"Yeah." His voice didn't sound too steady either. My face flushed with happiness, that I could make him feel that way.

His chin rested on the top of my head. "What have I been missing?" He whispered. He gently tilted my chin up with one finger so that I could look into his eyes. "Well?" He was smiling warmly, his face still slightly flushed.

I swallowed audibly. "Well, what?" I was having a hard time stringing coherent thoughts together. "I . . . well, uh . . .what?" I noticed then that he didn't have a shirt on and the clean smell of him was making it even harder for me to think, let alone that incredible kiss that had scrambled my brain. As I slowly came to my senses, I was embarrassed that one of my hands was pressed to his heart, while the other had slid into the waste band of his jeans. "Well, I guess we should eat."

He let me go.

I had a hard time keeping up my side of the conversation as we ate breakfast. My head was spinning as I picked at my half of the omelet.

"Hm?" I said with a blink? I think he had asked me something.

"Well, what do you think?" He said again. "Hello! Where did you go?" He was laughing at me.

I tried to remember what he had been saying a moment before. "Oh, sorry. Um . . . What were you . .?"

"The park? I said we should take a walk in the park today." He reminded me.

"Right." I finally remembered. "The new gardens. We should do that . . But it's still raining." I pointed out.

"Ah, come on." He encouraged. "You love the rain. Get dressed, I need some fresh air." He hopped up and went to get dressed himself.

He was right. I did love the rain. I loved the smell of the wet soil and the sounds. Especially the sounds. The thud it made when it came down in thick, sparse fat drops. The whooshing noise when the wind blew it hard against the windows and the shushing sound it made when it was a light even spray. I wished I could paint the sound of rain.

We were soon trudging over the damp sidewalk on our way to the park. I had on a rain slicker and waterproof boots. I was well prepared. But Marty hadn't brought anything but what he'd had on last night. The coat was dry enough but his shoes would be soaked before long. I loaned him one of my ratty baseball caps to keep most of the rain off his head.

It was only drizzling when we reached the new gardens. The soil was dark and damp, the plants gleamed with the wetness and it all smelled so clean and fresh.

I inhaled deeply as we walked through the rough stone path, "It smells so good." I sighed.

"You should do a series of paintings inspired by the gardens," Marty suggested. "Like the ones you did about the Griffith Observatory. I really loved those."

It warmed me inside to know that Marty enjoyed my work. I used to think he was just humoring me about liking them but over the years he's talked me up to some pretty important clients and sent a few customers my way. I owed him for that.

"You know, you still haven't picked out a piece for yourself," I reminded him. "You were supposed to pick one from the Coastal series to go in your apartment. Unless, you want something else now."

He squeezed my arm, "I've changed my mind, about which one I want." He glanced at me from the corner of his eye. "I want one that you haven't shown me . . Yet."

I looked at him confused. "What do you mean, yet?"

He spun me to him and wrapped his arms around me. "I want that self-portrait you did a couple of years ago, that you refused to show me." He grinned.

I pushed away slightly, "Ugh! Not that one." I turned my face from him, embarrassed. I knew I should never have told him about that experiment. I have always been intrigued by the self-portraits of artists like Van Gogh and Frida Khalo. I like how they stared out of the canvas as though they were challenging the viewer.

He squeezed me closer, "Please, at least let me see it." He cajoled. He nuzzled my cheek with his cold nose. "I promise to pick something else, if you insist, but at least let me look." He turned on his most devastating smile and I was lost.

"I . . uh. . Guess we could at least take a look..." I murmured.

Before I knew what was happening I was unlocking my studio and letting him in to view the painting. "I don't even, think it's here. I mean, it's probably in storage." I stalled as I lit up the large studio space.

Canvases were everywhere. I often work in a series of paintings, with an occasional commission thrown in. I had a large commission for a Beverly Hills hotel in the works. I was on the tail end of the project but it wasn't due for another month and I had to admit I was stalling to finish it.

Marty stood looking at it, his head tilted to the side and shrugged off his wet coat. He didn't say anything, letting me take his coat and hat from him. I hung everything on a couple of barstools I often used.

"Well?" I asked quietly.

"Don't get mad." He started, squinting at the large canvas.

"Oh, oh." I said. "You hate it."

"No. No really." He didn't move. "It's just . . . You're so much better than this." He shrugged.

"What do you mean?" I was instantly defensive even though it was sort of a compliment. "I thought it was coming out pretty good. I mean it's not finished!"

"Hey," He smiled at me to calm me down. "I just mean ... it's sort of commercial, don't you think? I like you're personal stuff better." He shrugged. "That series you did of that old building, down by Chinatown. Now that stuff was excellent." He was using his hands now, describing the separate paintings. "The way you captured the way the light danced on the architectural elements and the subtle shadows that were created. I was sorry that I didn't get to buy the whole thing . . I really wanted the one. . ." He trailed off looking at my smiling face. "What?" He blinked.

I sighed happily, "You amaze me. You remembered that? I sold that over 8 years ago." I shook my head in wonder. I had almost forgotten I had even done it. I sold the whole 10 painting series to an architect in Malibu.

"I remember all your work that I've seen." He smiled widely. "I happen to think you're a genius. Haven't I ever told you that?"

I nodded slowly. "Yeah, I guess you have. I don't know why but . . .I just never really thought. . ." I turned slightly. This was dumb, I started to tear up.

"Hey, what's up with that?" He moved to me and wrapped his arms around me, pulling my face to his chest. I fit perfectly to him. "I didn't mean to make you cry. I thought you knew how much I admired you." He lifted my face with one finger. "And not just you're artistic skills."

He stroked back my damp hair and kissed an errant tear from my cheek. "Haven't I made it clear that I think you, my lovely Lily, are an incredible woman. Strong, soft, funny, intelligent, beautiful . . And . ." He pressed his forehead to mine. "Did I mention, sexy as hell."

I leaned back from him enough to look into his eyes. Our eyes locked, heat began to crawl up my neck and down my belly. Marty's breath deepened, his hands cupped my face holding me in place while his face moved to mine.



Friends or Lovers Ch. 03



He pressed his warm lips to mine gently, but I had enough of tentative kisses. If Marty was really in love with me, I had waited long enough, knew him long enough to forget waiting. My heart pounded in my chest as I threw my arms around his neck, deepening the kiss with a gasp.

That was all the encouragement he needed. With a groan he dragged me back towards the ratty old sofa that had been in my possession since our college days and served as my napping sofa in the studio. I was more than happy to follow.

I started pulling at the buttons of his shirt. I may have popped a few in my enthusiasm but whose counting. He had already helped me off with my thin, long sleeve sweater by the time I was straddling his lap. The sweater flung somewhere over his shoulder.

I had my hands firmly wrapped in his hair. How I loved the feel of it in my fingers. I tried to pull him back into the kiss but he held me firmly away so that he could burn my skin with his darkened gaze. "What?" I questioned. "Sink or swim. Right?" I whispered.

His eyes widened in surprise then warmed to love. "Absolutely." His arms tightened around my waist while he pressed his face into my chest. My arms wrapped naturally around his head trying to press him closer into my body.

The mood suddenly changed. The urgency slowed to a smoldering heat. Marty pressed his ear to my chest to listen to my thundering heartbeat. I rubbed my face in his hair, trying to feel everything in my tingling body.

I felt Marty's fingers searching for the clasp of my bra.

Insecurities reared up in me and made me stay his hands. "Wait." I said. I pulled his hands away and brought them forward to hold them in front of me. "Please, wait." I whispered. I couldn't look at him, so I stared down at his hands.

Crap! I thought I could do this. I was breathing hard and completely aroused but I couldn't do this. My fantasy was blooming in front of me and I just couldn't turn off the doubts in my brain. What the hell was wrong with me!

"Lily." Marty said calmly. He pulled one of his hands from my grasp and cupped my cheek gently. "Lily, please look at me."

Reluctantly, I raised my gaze. His face was flushed and his lips curled up into a gentle smile. His eyes only shone with love. There was no doubt in them. None. "I love you." He said simply. "I love you, Lily." He repeated.

His thumb caressed my cheek soothingly. "You're a beautiful woman, Lily. In all ways and I love you. I want you, but I won't rush you into anything." He said calmly. He was so confident and sure of himself. How did he do that?

I'm sure he could see the conflict and insecurity in my face and I sighed resignedly. "I don't ... I can't... Ugh! I can't even string a thought together." I shook my head. "I want this, Marty. I really do. I love you. I do. But.." I shrugged and looked down again. "My heart's desire is staring me right in the face and I can't even let myself have this moment of happiness. I can't let go." I moved off Marty's lap and sank back on the sofa, my eyes closed.

The room was very quiet for a few minutes. I felt Marty move on the sofa and soon I felt him slide in next to me. He lowered his head to my shoulder and carefully curled himself around me. "No worries, love. I'm not going anywhere." He rested his hand on my belly and softly stroked the soft pudge. No urgency, just comfort.

It started to rain again. Loud enough for us to hear it thrum on the roof.

"I was talking to my mom the other day. She reminded me of when we had this really crazy December storm when I was around nine." He talked softly, reminiscing on that long ago winter. He told other stories about growing up. About his family, his terrible cousin Danny that had thrown a rock at him and cut his head open. He had to get five stitches on that day. About his favorite dog, Dunder and how she used to sleep with him every night and how she died in his arms when he was 14.

It was all very funny and sad and...comfortable. This was how it always was with Marty. Effortless.

So why couldn't I just forget that my tits sag and that my belly has never been flat and that my ass should have it's own area code. If Marty wanted to be with me...then he would be with all of me. If he was ok with my self doubt, my pessimism and my obsession with not being good enough, then I would try to accept that maybe... just maybe, I deserved this incredible man who was sending tingles and sparks from my scalp to the tips of my toes.

In the dimming light of dusk and the rainstorm, I began a gentle stroke his thigh. I twisted slightly and pressed my nose against his throat, inhaling his delicious scent. This, I could do. I could appreciate the smells, tastes, sights and sounds that were Marty. My hands caressed his chest, his thighs and the hard muscles of his arms that remained relaxed and still, draped around me.

"God," I murmured "you feel so good." I nuzzled my cheek against his neck and ran my nose along the edge of his strong jaw. Finally, I laid my palm lightly against his cheek and tilted his face to me so that I could taste his lips again. He let me kiss him, only moving enough to allow me entrance and accept my tongue's exploration.

After a few tentative passes over the crotch of his pants I began to lightly rub my hand over his rapidly hardening member. It was so hot and it shifted slightly in my hand. I squeezed it more firmly and pressed my hand over the length.

Marty groaned deep in his throat. "Lily!" He pressed his hand over mine, stilling it in place.

I froze. "Sorry, did I hurt you?" I kept my lips on his, our breath mingling in our mouths.

I felt his lips smile on mine. "No, not exactly pain, but if you're not planning to take this anywhere you might want to ease up." He chuckled.

I smiled back and started stroking again. "Who want's to stop? I'd have to be an idiot to want to stop now. I mean I've got the sexiest man alive, practically naked and telling me he loves me. A girl would have to be stupid to..."

I suddenly found myself on my back, Marty pressing my arms over my head his nose just inches from mine. "You talk too much." He growled, a teasing gleam in his eyes. His lips silenced anything I was about to say. The steady rain and our ragged breathing were the only sounds that were heard for several minutes.

His chest hair was rubbing my nipples roughly causing delicious sparks to shoot through me. An errant thought flew through my mind, how had my bra come off? The thought was gone as soon as Marty's lips found my earlobe. I didn't know that was one of my erogenous zones, but my toes curled and I shuttered with pleasure.

My hands roamed his strong back and I caressed down to his ass. I grunted irritably, "Why do you still have your pants on?" I tried to push them down but his full length was covering me and I couldn't push very far.

Marty huffed a laugh, "I can remedy that." He was off of me in a flash pushing his pants off as fast as he could. My hands flew to my own and I struggled to push my jeans off. "Let me do that." he pushed my hands away and my pants were whipped off of me.

He kneeled between my legs his arm propped up on the back of the sofa looking down at me. There we were looking at each other naked for the first time. I don't know what he was thinking in that moment but I could only stare in wonder. He was so beautiful. His face and chest were flushed with excitement, his hair tousled from my searching hands. His nipples were hard and showed through the crisp sprinkle of hair across his chest. I followed the line of hair down his hard stomach to the trail that led to his penis.

I swallowed nervously. I realized I was staring at his hard penis rising from a light thatch of curly brown hair and I looked up to see that he was staring at me. His eyes wandered over my body with a look of ...what? Wonder? Hunger? Love? Lust? All of the above? Is that what was in my eyes as well? I certainly felt all those things, I just couldn't bring my self to think that he would think the same for my soft, roly poly body. "Lily." He whispered. "I want you." He gave me a questioning looking, giving me one last chance to stop this.

I struggled with my response. I could have made some flip comment, or surprised him with a mushy poetic phrase but what came out surprised even me. "Love me." I said, my voice calm and sure.

Relief, humor and mostly love shone from his face. He reached his hand out and gently placed it between my breasts. He held it there for a few moments feeling the pounding of my heart. Then he began sliding it down my stomach until he finally came to rest over the dark hair on my vulva.

How he knew that this slow torture would set me on fire, I don't know, but I was sure I would burst into flames at any moment. His hand was trembling when he finally dragged his fingers lower, parting the soft lips and pressing two finger gently into the folds. His fingers were instantly coated with my juices. I had never been so wet and aroused. I could feel the liquid slipping out of me and dripping down to my ass.

He pressed further until his fingers found my weeping hole and slid home. My back arched "Oh, god!" I gasped. "Marty!" I grabbed his wrist, I don't know if it was to stop him or help him, but I was already on edge and he was driving me wild. I managed to pull myself up and grasp his shoulder pulling him closer, "You can check the oil and kick the tires later! I want you now!" I was gasping and trembling on the brink.

In seconds he was pressing me on my back again his whole body covering me. I felt the smooth head of this dick press open my labia and lodge in the opening. I wrapped my arms and legs around him our bodies pressed together as one being. He began sliding his hardness into me until it was seated deeply inside. He held there for a moment and waited as my body rippled with pleasure. I squeezed my vaginal muscles and flexed my abdomen, coaxing him to move with me.

I needed him. I needed him to push and pull, hold me tighter, press into my body, kiss me, caress me and stare into my soul. I needed all that and I wanted to give all of that to him. All of that and more.

I felt suspended in this moment. Every cell of my body felt everything and I was in heaven. Slowly all the tingling pleasure began to gather together and concentrate in my core, moving down to center where we were so intimately connected. I gasped and trembled as the intensity began to overwhelm me. My hands clenched and tried to pull him even closer, trying to fit myself into his skin. "Oh, god!" I panted. A moan escaped my lips as my orgasm engulfed me. I had never felt anything so intense. Marty held very still as I rode the tremulous waves that caused my back to arch and my core to clasp onto his penis like it would never let it go. I lost track of time and I may have blacked out for a brief second.

My pulse was pounding in my head as I was finally able to open my eyes and found Marty staring down at me with a look of wonder and a little bit concern. I found my voice at last, "What the hell was that?" I panted and laughed at the same time, jolts of pleasure shocking my sensitive pussy causing small aftershocks to rumble through my body.

"Wow." he breathed. "Are you alright?"

I chuckled at his bemused expression, "More than alright, stud." I teased. I pulled his face back down to me, shooting my tongue out to lick his lips, "Are you going to finish what you started or did I scare you off?" I tightened my knees and flexed my pelvis trying to coax him to start moving again.

He chuckled, "Yes, ma'am." He brought his lips firmly to mine and began moving in me again. He built back up to his previous rhythm. "That was the sexiest thing I've ever seen. This is so perfect. You're amazing, love." He breathed in my ear. "I'm ...close, Lily." His motion began to falter and his forehead creased with effort. "Should I...?"

"Hush, Love. Just let go." I encouraged him and clenched my muscles to help him tip over the edge. He took two maybe three more thrusts when his own orgasm over came him and his back arced over me.

After a few moments he relaxed letting his weight fall on me gently, his face pressed into my neck, a sigh of contentment escaping his lips. "Lily." he whispered.

Marty raised his head and we stared into each others eyes, contentment and love apparent in the look.

===========

Epilogue - 5 years later

I stare out of the kitchen window at the pounding rain. I always remember that rainy afternoon that Marty and I first made love when the weather is like this. The happy memory brings a smile to my lips. Our relationship hasn't always been as idyllic as that long ago afternoon but having been friends for so long made the hard times easier.

We've talked about marriage but neither of has felt that it's a priority for us. Neither of us have the drive to become parents and now that I'm well into my 40's it doesn't seem that I'll be following that path either.

We got a dog that we named Peaches. She's become my constant companion when I'm in the studio. We nap together on the ratty old sofa, every now and again. Marty and I have tried making love on that lumpy couch but the bed is much more comfortable.

About a year ago I lost a bunch of weight, but a year later, I've found most of it again. Marty doesn't seem to mind either way.

I hear him coming in the front door. His steps are heavy from standing most of the day at the office and a half day in surgery. I would recognize his footsteps anywhere.

"Hello, beautiful." He says coming through the kitchen archway. I can see his smiling face in the reflection of the darkening glass.

*************Thanks everyone for waiting. Enjoy.****************