36 comments/ 50368 views/ 117 favorites Lesbian Best Friend By: MadeYaLook Author's note: This is the first story I've published. I've had the idea one Sunday morning and spent nearly all day writing it out. Over the following two weeks, I couldn't leave my hands off it and started moving parts around, adding things and removing others, until it eventually became what it is. I'd like to give my thanks to Selkiegone who helped me straightening out the plot and my characters, as well as my good friend Zafrumi who proofread the piece and encouraged me to publish it. I've made some further changes after my two editors have done their magic, so any mistakes you'll find are mine and mine alone ;) I hope you'll enjoy. Please leave comments, both good and bad. "I ... beg your pardon?!" I stuttered, the shock evident in my tone. I replayed the sound of her voice in my mind, trying to find the part where my brain could have played a trick on me and made me mishear her. I couldn't find it. "You heard exactly what I said," Sam said, trying to keep her voice firm. I had overcome my initial surprise. "Well, I did hear something, but right now I'd rather call the office of paranormal affairs and have them search this place for a glitch in space or time that might alter sound waves than believe what I thought I heard." Oh, me and my speeches. You'll get your ear full of them throughout this story. "Why do you make me say it again? Do you enjoy seeing me suffer?" she asked as she tried to keep her composure. She didn't fool her friend of seventeen years. "Excuse me?" I blurted out. "I think repeating yourself will be the least of your problems considering what you've just asked for – if you've actually asked for what I think I heard you asking for." 'There is your easy way out, Sam. Please, take it!' I thought to myself. I could read the emotions in her big, intense, chocolate-brown eyes like it was in plain writing as she prepared herself to repeat what she had said moments earlier. There was shyness and shame in them – something I hardly ever saw in Sam's eyes. "Fine," she said and took two deep breaths before continuing, "I want you to ..." "Lalalalala," I started chanting and plugged my index fingers into my ears, desperately trying not to hear what I was going to hear. Or rather what I thought I was going to hear. "For fuck's sake, Leon," Sam said in a tone of resignation, "you're thirty-three years old – stop acting like we're still in high school." It wasn't the first time I heard that – she called me incorrigible on a weekly basis. I tried to be mature. "Sam, you're ..." I stopped, looking for the right words. "Repulsive?" she mockingly tried to complete my sentence, tilting her head slightly to the side and giving me her best smile. Repulsive? Sam was the material of every man's wet dream. Five foot seven, flawless olive skin so soft that it begged to be touched, light-brown wavy hair with natural highlights, an angelic face, incredibly long lashes, those big, pretty, chocolate-brown eyes, full lips that always look slightly pouting, C-cup breasts on her slender frame, an hourglass figure that seemed unreal, a tummy and bum just as tight as if she was still sweet sixteen, impossibly long and slender legs, and delicate feet usually wrapped in slutty three inch heels. Sam was the opposite of repulsive, and that went for both genders. My resolution to act mature left as quickly as it had come. "I was going to say gay. There, I said it. I know this comes as a shock to you, and I held back for seventeen years, but now seems the right time to tell you the truth. You're gay, Sam. You're into women. The kind with boobs and pussies. The kind that bleeds once a month. In case you haven't guessed it until now, I have a cock dangling from between my legs, and if I bleed it comes from a physical..." "Shut up, Leon. Just shut the fuck up for once," Sam interrupted, again with that tone of resignation in her voice, "Don't you realise how hard this is for me?" Her eyes turned slightly sad now, frustrated, and still ashamed. "I'm sorry. I'm being an insensitive bastard, aren't I?" I asked in a low, apologetic voice. Her lips twitched as she prevented a smile. "You're not a bastard, you know your parents. But I think tosser would be an accurate description." "Come here, pal." I said, reaching out for her. She moved over the sofa willingly, sat onto my lap and leaned against my chest as I placed my chin on her shoulder and looped my arms around her. "Now ... Do you mind explaining to me why you need me to fuck you?" I asked. It was quiet for a long time after I spoke. The silence lasted so long, I started to toy with the thought that she changed her mind so we could drop this subject and continue as we used to be. We were Sam and Leon. Leon and Sam. We teased each other, we toyed with each other, we flirted with each other, but it was always clear that that was it – and apart from a dare that got her twenty quid, which she split equally with me, we never even kissed. You might think that I felt like the luckiest bloke on the planet because I was the only man to ever have his lips on Sam Wilson's, but I didn't. Not back then, and not now. Sam was my pal, the best I ever had. I was long past her physical attraction, and I enjoyed the human being inside the beautiful shell. I felt safe with Sam. I could tell her about the girl-trouble in my life, get the female perspective on things which very often is exactly what you need, without having that little nagging voice in the back of your head that maybe, just maybe, the girl in front of which you pour your heart out is also a potential sexual partner and therefore you should watch your tongue. Not Sam. Sam was just Sam to me. The silence continued, and I reached over to take a sip of diet coke. "Because I want to have a baby." That diet coke tried to make its way out through my nose. At least I had managed to keep my mouth closed and hadn't sprayed the nasty black liquid all over Sam and the sofa. She giggled, but handed me a fresh tissue out of the pocket of her jeans. "You want what?" I eventually managed to gasp, still cleaning myself with the tissue, only to remember her earlier words, "Oh, never mind, I heard you, no need to repeat yourself. Sam, I ... I don't think I want kids." "I don't expect you to raise it. I can raise a kid myself, Leon. I have a good job, a good income, and there are many single moms out there, it wouldn't be anything out of the ordinary." she countered. It came out like a prepared speech. "But it would still be my kid. It might get my ugly visage, might suffer my fate to gain three pounds by only looking at chocolate, my overflow of body hair I have to take care of way too frequently, my ..." I paused – why exactly were we having this discussion? "Come on, Leon, you turned out pretty handsome and you know it. But more importantly you're intelligent, funny and you have a big heart. And I don't feel much of those additional pounds right now. You used to be a more comfy cushion." she said with some amusement in her voice. Sam always overdid it when she described me. I hadn't fallen from the ugly tree, but I wasn't a hunk either. I was six foot tall, had dark hair, blue eyes, wide shoulders and a relatively athletic body that was the result of countless hours at the gym and just as many sacrifices when it came to food. I showered and brushed my teeth daily, had a standing appointment at the hair dresser every three months and a generally well-groomed appearance – something that comes with working in the City of London. According to Sam, women should practically eat me alive. Only, they didn't. I wasn't completely unsuccessful and usually spent three to six months every other year in a relationship. I figured I just hadn't found the right one yet. "Then you'd have two people in your life who don't know when to shut the fuck up. You sure you want that?" I exhaled. "Sam, where is this coming from? You never wanted kids. We've talked about this so many times..." "I just feel my biological clock. It's one thing to say no if you have the option, but when you feel the option slipping from you, it's much harder to stick with your decision." she mused. "And you ..." I paused. Sam finished my sentence, "... wonder if this is everything life has to offer. Chasing bitches for a bit of pussy, only to get my heart broken because they eventually discover 'Oh, I'm into dicks after all'. I'm a woman, Leon. There's a big part of my body that is made to conceive and give birth to a child." "What about test-tube fertilisation?" I asked, not sounding very hopeful. Sam and her doctor phobia. "To get a stranger's baby? The baby of a complete tosser? Besides, Leon, you know how it takes me a month to mentally prepare myself just to make the appointment at the gynaecologist's. That guy only takes a sample out of my vagina and I'm frightened to death. Guess how I feel if he actually puts something in there!" She sighed. "So you rather have sex with me? I'd pick major surgery over sex with a bloke!" I countered. "Well, I wouldn't." Simple enough response. "Why me? There's a lot of other fit blokes out there." "Because you're my best friend? Because I trust you? Because the other blokes can hardly keep their tongue in their mouth when they see me? Because they might have STDs?" she argued. Oh yeah, Sam's strongest argument against having sex with guys were STDs. I guess if you're afraid of doctors, it makes sense to be afraid of anything that could make you go to a doctor. I sighed. "Speaking strictly hypothetically, we'd shag, you'd get pregnant and that's it?" I asked. She turned her head to look at me with that shame in her eyes. "It might not be a one-time thing." I was lucky not to have diet coke in my mouth this time. "What? You think you'd fall for me, we'd marry and be happy ever after?" "No, silly," Sam said in a tone as if I had just claimed the world was flat. "I might not get pregnant from a single shag, it could take a few tries. Plus, studies show that chances of conception are increased if the woman has an orgasm, and as much as I love you, I don't find you very arousing. No offence." "None taken." I answered. Believe it or not, but the feeling was mutual. "So, you might end up shagging me several times, stud." Sam tried to tease, but I could tell it wasn't her usual tease. She was way out of her waters. I did what I always do best – I shoved the emotions out of my head and clung to the numbers. "The chance of getting pregnant is around thirty percent per cycle for a healthy female aged twenty-eight. That's the highest it ever gets. At thirty-three, you're probably in the twenty-five percent area. You're looking at an expected value of two to three tries." Sam rolled her eyes first – she always did that when my minor in statistics got the better of me – but then gave me a confused stare. "How come you know so much about getting women pregnant?" I tried to look nonchalant – I remembered very well why I knew that. "I looked it up once." "And why would you do that? You, of all people, who doesn't want to have kids?" she pressed. Of course she would. Sam knew me just as well as I knew her. I sighed. "Well, again speaking strictly hypothetically, what if I ever ended up in a situation with a drunk girl who was actually willing to do me, and I realise the only condom in useful distance is in my wallet, has been in there for about three months and shows obvious signs that it's no longer to be trusted. Let's further assume that said girl is not on the pill, her period was roughly two weeks ago, but she urges me to do a coitus interruptus, which I fail to do because I'm drunk and horny beyond believe. So, just in case I ended up in this situation, I'd find it interesting to have an estimate of the probability of having just conceived a baby or gotten an STD." Sam raised an eyebrow at me. "You're not as smart as you seem to be, are you?" "I was young, horny, daft, and incredibly lucky." I admitted. "Who was the lucky girl?" she asked. Oh lord. See, already things had changed. Fifteen minutes ago I would have enjoyed sharing that story. Right now, Sam was on my list of potential lovers, even though I hadn't accepted her proposal. Wasn't going to accept her proposal. But that impossibility was out of the way. And you just don't share stories of past lovers with potential future lovers. "Carla Higgins." I eventually admitted. "You did Carla? The big breasted I-shall-wait-until-I-marry Carla? When was that?" "About three months after we graduated high school. You have no idea what kind of joy a man can get from the simple words 'I just had my period'." I relived a small amount of the relief I felt all those years ago. "And that HIV test did come back negative, right?" she checked. "I'm clean and healthy as a horse. Not that it should matter to you, because we're only speaking hypothetically." Sam gave me a frustrated, yet longing look. I backpedalled a bit. "Are we?" "I've been thinking about this for over a year, Leon. You cannot even begin to imagine how much courage it took me to ask you this question." Those chocolate brown eyes, the very eyes I couldn't deny anything, started to tear up while staring into mine. "I'm not in a relationship, you haven't been seeing anyone in six months, and I don't even mind if you do other women beside me. I'd just be a friend with benefits until we succeed." Sam paused again and took a deep breath. "Would you do it?" I sighed and tightened my hold around Sam, turning her around so her back was against my chest. It wasn't fair if she looked at me like that, and I needed to think straight. "When was your last period?" I asked eventually. "Monday," Sam replied, "Saturday next week would be a good time to start." Indeed – it would be high season for her fertility. Sam had done her research, just like I had after doing Carla Higgins. It was quiet for a long minute and I tried to think. I couldn't imagine Sam laying a hand on me in a sexual way. Cuddling? Yes. Anything beyond that? No. "I'll pick you up 5pm on Saturday, and you'll be home again by Sunday night. I'm not saying anything is going to happen, okay? But it'll give us both some time to think about it, and enough opportunity if we decide that it's a good idea after all." I turned her around to look at me. "No promises Sam, except that we will share a hotel room and I won't bring condoms." Those promises were innocent enough – after all, we had done exactly that a number of times before. Right? Sam rolled her eyes, before the smile broke wide on her face. Oh God, what a mess have I gotten myself into this time? ### "How fucking stupid am I?" I said out loud for maybe the two-thousand three-hundred-and-forty-seventh time since Sam had left that night. I hadn't been myself the entire week, and I had another five days of this anticipation ahead of me. That mixture of fear, fright, that feeling of being uncomfortable – and what confused me most, lust. I lusted over Sam Wilson, my best pal of seventeen years. All it took her was a couple of words, a couple of looks into my eyes, and she had opened that Pandora's Box I had managed to shut tightly and shove away deep down in my brain. My male friends had made fun of me countless times on how gay I was that I didn't want to fuck Samantha Wilson's brains out. I usually answered that I wasn't completely cock-driven like they were, and it was true back then. I had never felt lust when I saw Sam. 'Course, that was all out the window now. My cock literally hurt from all the wanks I had with Sam staring in my fantasy. Her lips sucking me senseless, her nipples in my mouth, my tongue up her pussy – and her swaying hips impaled on my shaft with her gorgeous body for my hands to explore in the dim light of a romantic hotel room. That was earlier this week. Today, my mind engaged in anal sex with Sam. Tomorrow, it might be tit-fucking and I guessed a nice deep throat session was on the agenda for Tuesday. The rest of the week was reserved for threesomes with a couple of her ex-girlfriends. And then, Saturday... oh ... Saturday. But there was also another picture of Sam in my brain. It was a happy Sam, a Sam with a smile so wide even I had never seen her so happy before. Her hands were on her tummy – make that belly – which she caressed absent-mindedly. She was huge. She still looked gorgeous, almost glowing. Sometimes I appeared behind her and put my hands onto her belly, too. Sometimes she was alone. The worst part was that I still hadn't made up my mind about what I should do this weekend. Could I trust myself around her? Should I really go? Could we ever go back to the way we were before, or had something already changed permanently? And: Who did she think she was that she put me in this awful position to begin with? Was it her right to risk, make that sacrifice, our friendship, the best thing we had in our lives, only because she wanted something for herself? Because she wanted a child? I couldn't come to a conclusion because my body and my mind had different goals. My mind desperately clung to the easy-going, trusting friend that Sam was to me. My cock, however, had gotten the memo loud and clear that suddenly this gorgeous creature was available, and the two fought an atomic war inside me which left me rendered useless between wanking and being depressed. The only slightly meaningful thing I had done this week apart from work was refreshing the statistics of conceiving a child. What can I say? I'm a numbers guy. ### To say that the week dragged on was an understatement. It would be similar to say that a journey to Pluto was dragging. If I had had the alternative to participate in a five day Sex and the City marathon, I would have gladly taken it. Pat called me Thursday night. "So, what are your plans for the weekend? We'll go to the pub Saturday night." "Yeah, I won't be around." I'm going away for a night of mad sex. "Is there some secret party you're going to?" Pat asked surprised. I hardly ever turned down a night at the pub. "Nope, I need to catch up with work this weekend. Sorry." I need to plant a baby inside Sam Wilson. You know, the usual. "You can even bring Sam along, especially if she brings a few of her bi friends!" Pat pressed. Why would he even mention Sam? Was he a bloody mind-reader? "No idea what Sam is up to, I haven't spoken to her all week." At least the second part was true. "Alright, mate. If you change your mind, you know where to find us." Actually, I've change my mind. "Sure thing. I gotta get back to work. Enjoy the weekend." I checked the weather report, and although it was only May it was supposed to be quite warm. I decided to book a nice hotel down south at the beach. It wouldn't be crowded yet as the main season was still over a month away, and we could work a bit on our tan. Because nothing was going to happen. We would get there, be uncomfortable around each other, watch a pay-per-view movie, enjoy the restaurants, hang out at the beach and check out women's racks, get drunk and chat about how fucked up the world is. Um. Cross that. I wasn't getting drunk around Sam. Not this weekend, anyway. ### The entire Friday and Saturday, I waited for Sam to cancel. She had done it plenty of times to go on a last minute date with some hot chick, or she had a bad hair day – on those days I'd just go over to her place rather than going out. Surely, she must have come to her senses by now. Surely, this must all be a practical joke. Maybe she had forgotten about it, since we hadn't spoken since she left my apartment last week. Like I'd get that lucky. Lesbian Best Friend I had to get into work Saturday, which made me feel slightly better considering the lie I had told Pat, and I didn't have time to go home and change afterwards, so I showed up dressed in a suit and tie ten minutes early. London traffic was generous today. I spent five of those minutes in the car debating whether I should abort this madness. Now was the last chance to get out clean. After that, we'd always have that night where we'd tried but hadn't succeeded in our memory. I sighed. You're thirty-three for fuck's sake, don't be such a baby. With that, I got out of the car, walked to her door and rang the bell. "Coming." I heard from inside, followed by the clacking of heels. Well, I was sure I'd have to wait for another forty minutes. Sam was always late. If you think pretty women take long in the bathroom, try a pretty lipstick lesbian for a change. Seconds later, the door flew open. "Rea ..." Oh my fucking god, "... dy?" I managed to stutter. Sam had gone overboard. Never, ever had she dressed like this around me. Sam wasn't dressed to kill. She was dressed to commit fucking genocide. The black cocktail dress hugged her in all the right places, it was more like a second skin, and showed off her gorgeous legs – covered in stockings – and enough cleavage to leave any man or woman drooling. Her bum, her perfectly heart-shaped behind stood out, intensified by the three inch strappy heels she wore. She had her hair pinned up, glimmering ear rings, glossy lips, and mascara to make her already long lashes obscenely long. She wore light green eye shadow which was perfect with her olive skin. "Sure, all set. By the way, you look handsome." she mentioned in passing as she kissed me on the cheek. I numbly took her suitcase from her as she locked the door, and followed her to the car. Sam was ready. On time! That was a first as well. I opened the door for her before getting into the driver's seat. "Sam," I started. "Yes?" she asked. "You look gorgeous." Friends can say that to each other, right? "Hey, I'm trying to seduce a man tonight. It's a skill I haven't mastered yet." She patted my leg through my suit. My skin started to burn under her touch. I pulled out into traffic and shortly afterwards we were on the M23 toward Brighton. ### "Are you nervous, Leon? You're quiet." Sam observed. Nervous didn't even begin to cover it, so I started babbling. "No, I just have a reservation for 7.30 at a restaurant. I figured you'd be late, but now we're early. I thought about whether I should give them a call." I turned my head to look at her. "But I'm sure if I show up with you, they'll find a free table." Sam wasn't buying my crap. That's the problem with being friends since forever. You know the other person so well, you know when they're talking bollocks. It took one glance from her to tell me that she knew, but she was smart enough not to say it. It was mostly quiet for the rest of the drive. We arrived at 6.45 at the hotel and checked in, but didn't go to our room just yet – the porter would bring our bags upstairs. Of course, everybody in the lobby was staring at us – or mostly at the beauty I had on my arm. I was already used to that. You tend to go unnoticed when you have Sam at your side. The candle light dinner was excellent, and we managed to return to the roles we were used to around each other. At least until desert came. That's when Sam suddenly leaned forward and reached under the table. I didn't know what she was doing – maybe she had an itch on her leg. When she had straightened back up, I suddenly felt something – her foot – on my calf. That crafty temptress had gotten out of her heel. Mercilessly, her foot trailed up my leg slowly. My body had become rigid under her touch. "Sam," I all but whispered in protest. The mischievous smile she gave me told me that my pleading would be in vain. This was a public place for crying out loud, and my cock was getting hard quickly. My heart beat furiously in my chest. I had about ten seconds left to escape to the bathroom before the bulge in my pants would effectively prevent me from getting up and leave me at her mercy. But it felt so good. And that was that, my way out had just closed its door on me as my cock sprang to its full size. I stared into her eyes, those chocolate-brown big eyes, as I felt her foot tracing along my inner thigh. Further. And further. Until she came to a stop against my hardness. I could tell from her gaze that all of a sudden, my seductive kitten had been thrown into a pool of the unknown. Yes, honey, that's a cock, something your usual dates don't have. Sam left her foot in place, getting a first impression of what she thought might await her later. What she thought. I was still quite sure that nothing was going to happen. Ninety-nine percent. At least. "Was everything to your satisfaction?" a male voice asked next to me. "Pardon?" I stuttered before I turned my head. The waiter was standing there, looking at me with a friendly but professional smile. "Oh. Um. Yes, everything was perfect." Except that my escort is massaging my dick with her toes, but that's not your fault. "Could I have the bill, please?" "Right away, sir." he answered and took our plates. I didn't miss that he smiled at Sam much longer than necessary. "Sam," I whispered when he had left, "I cannot get up right now for obvious reasons. Can you please retrieve your foot?" She giggled, but thankfully she played nice and followed my instructions. Again, she leaned under the table to put her heel back on. We left ten minutes later after I had paid the bill, willed my cock into semi-hardness and then shoved my hand into the pocket of my pants to first readjust my member and then keep it there so people would assume the bulge came from my hand. We slowly walked back to the hotel, enjoying a beautiful night. Sam had her arm looped through mine and her head rested against my shoulder. If you added it up, we had probably walked several marathons exactly that way. But tonight, it felt different. Very different. I was aware of every spot where our bodies touched. Her arm on mine, her cheek on my shoulder, her breast softly pressing against my bicep. She had washed her hair with her favourite shampoo. Her skin wore the scent of her usual soap and a bit of Chanel. And of course, her own scent. That complex scent that was Sam, sweet and delicious – honey, a hint of vanilla and something else, something exotic I hadn't managed to distinguish in all those years. Everything was familiar. And yet, it had never been so erotic. I had registered all that before, but since I knew that I could have her, I found myself rediscovering everything about her. Had her skin always been so soft? Had her body always been so warm, literally radiating through mine? Had her breast always been pressed against me so persisting when we walked like this? "It's a beautiful night." Her voice broke through to me. It was soft, velvet ... sexy. "Indeed it is." I breathed back, hardly recognizing my own voice. Deeper than usual I thought, throaty, husky. God, I was into her. Head over heels. I reassessed the probability of us not getting involved tonight to ninety percent – still a pretty decent chance that nothing would happen. I tried to get the mood a bit less romantic by turning the TV in our room to the first football match I could find. Thankfully, you will always find football on English TV, no matter what the hour or the day. If I had to put money on it, I'd bet that you could have watched football throughout September 11. I guessed that Sam knew what I was doing, and the smart woman that she was, she played along for a while. For exactly fifteen minutes. "I'll run myself a bath." she said and got up from the bed on which we had lain with a decent space between us. The bathroom door was right next to the TV, and Sam was very much aware of that. Before she even entered it, her dress had dropped to the floor – leaving her with only what she worn underneath. Which was nothing, apart from the garterless stockings and the strappy heels. My hands went to my face in disbelieve as if I wanted to prevent myself from watching, but my fingers were spread and I saw everything that was going on. That heart shaped bum, naked, in front of me – mine for the taking. The outline of her breasts when she turned slightly to the side. And those long, long, fucking long legs. If someone had switched the TV to a horror movie, or a romance, or porn, I wouldn't have noticed. Sam slowly walked into the bathroom with my eyes fixed on her, deliberately wriggling that bum of hers with an impossible elegance and gracefulness, moving her feet in a straight line, one in front of the other. She closed the door slightly, but not shut. The water tab began to run before she sat down on a dressing chair that was behind the door. I couldn't see Sam anymore, until her stretched out legs came into view through the door crack as she sensually rolled off her stockings. Her fingers lightly traced the skin on her thigh as she moved the fabric off her body, over her stretched knee. Nobody gets out of stockings in such a way for practical reasons. I was enjoying a show. A private show. Her upper body bent forward, further and further, and came slowly into view. Her head first, followed by her shoulders. Her fingers were at her calf, and suddenly, those legs couldn't be long enough for me. A few more inches and I'd get a glimpse of her breasts. My breathing had picked up, my heart was pounding in my chest. Sam seemed to slow down as she rolled that stocking over her foot, showing off not only her gorgeous body but also how flexible she was after all those yoga classes. I felt myself moving over to get a better angle. I hadn't given the command consciously. Eventually, her breasts came into view. Those perfect C-cups, as they lay softly against her thigh. Oh my fucking God, what have I gotten myself into? My face was still in my hands but they were still not preventing my sight. My cock was harder than I thought it could get, and Sam wasn't even in immediate proximity. I enjoyed – and endured – the whole procedure again for her other leg before she lowered herself into the bath tub. After twenty minutes or so – I had just managed to calm down –, I heard her call for me: "Leon? You mind coming in here for a second?" I took a deep breath, praying that she used enough bath essence to cover her body, got up from the bed and walked into the bathroom. God had answered my prayers this time. I wordlessly sat down on the toilet next to the tub, and almost automatically started massaging her shoulders. This too I had done on countless occasions. It felt natural. Almost. This time, it was much more intimate. And that soft moan that escaped her lips when I worked the little knots between her shoulder blades – had it always appealed to such a primitive instinct? I didn't do the full reassessment of my probability, but I did notice that it had changed significantly – and not in my brain's favour. "Hey beautiful," I said in a low voice when she had turned her head to me. "Leon, I ... If you don't want to do this, then that's okay, you know that. I can't force you to have sex with me." Sam said in a low voice and looked up at me, sadness in her beautiful chocolate-brown eyes. "Sam, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on. But I don't want to lose you as a friend. I cannot afford to lose you. What would I do without you?" I asked huskily. "That's what you're worried about? About what this might change between us?" She asked in a velvet voice. "So much has changed already." I breathed back. "Like what? We've done nothing so far we hadn't done before. Apart from that thing in the restaurant." And that striptease you've just given me. "The way I see you has changed, Sam." I paused, searching for words. "Suddenly, you're a person I can have sex with. My whole perception of you has changed. I've become one of those men who can hardly keep their tongue in their mouth around you." I admitted. I have always been honest with Sam. I swore to myself in this moment that even if everything else changed, that shouldn't. Sam smiled at me. "I have to get out of here, or my skin will become wrinkly. Mind giving me some privacy?" she asked. I nodded, and went back to the bed. How fucking stupid am I? Yes, that very sentence again. Only this time, I asked it in a different context. In that bathroom was as a godlike creature. My best friend. And she wanted me, needed me. She had asked me a simple favour, and I was about to let her down. Why couldn't I just give her what she wanted? Why would everything have to be so complicated? I hated to see Sam hurt that way. The sadness I had seen on her face wrenched my guts. Was it my right to deny her wish for a child – a wish so important to her and so easy for me to grant? Or would denying it be the most selfish thing I'd ever do, to keep her for myself rather than giving her what she truly wanted, what that most primitive need of hers wanted her to have, what could turn the happy Sam I knew into the glowing Sam of my dreams? When she emerged from the bathroom, wearing only a bath robe, she lay down next to me. I had turned the TV off, and we both stared at the ceiling. That awkward moment I had predicted had arrived. After some minutes of silence, Sam's hand reached over and touched mine. My heartbeat increased slightly, but I didn't withdraw my hand. Slowly, she leaned in closer. I stayed in place. She turned over, half lying on top of me. I didn't move. Her hand was on my chest, opening a single button of my shirt before sliding onto my skin. It burned under that direct contact. My breathing became heavy. My heart beat furiously. My cock sprang to life. I stopped her hand. I was holding on to a very thin thread now. "You're not playing fair," I managed to gasp. "I never said I would," was her answer, before she rolled onto me, her hand grabbing my cock and giving it a hard squeeze. And suddenly, everything fell into place. How fucking stupid am I? It was the last conscious thought I had. I had fallen for her play. Hell, I had given her over a week to prepare this plot. The dress – she knew she had to go overboard for me to notice it. Her 'regular night out' wardrobe was something I had witnessed too often before to catch my attention. The restaurant episode – she knew she had to take the teasing to a new level to make me panting, to get that physical reaction from me that she wanted. The strip – she knew I had only seen glimpses of her before, knew that I'd never allow her to undress herself in front of me, much less help her out of her clothes myself. Sam knew her opponent in and out. For the last seventeen years I had shared everything with her. She knew my history, my every weakness, my every concern, my desires, even my preferences in bed – she knew everything. She knew I wouldn't just shoot her down when she'd asked me, that I'd try to go along and let her see for herself that this was a bad idea. She knew how to wear me down. She knew when to make me think she was giving me space and when to pretend the decision was back with me. It never was. It never had been. But the most brilliant part of it all? She didn't have to lie, hadn't spoken one untrue word. She was even upfront, literally walked into my house and threw the truth right in my face, knowing that this way she'd get me to do what she wanted me to do. She hadn't broken one rule in friendship code. Except she hadn't played fair. Well, two can withdraw from fair play. I wouldn't give her clinical, mechanical sex, just to get it over with. I was going explore every inch of her gorgeous body, touch every skin cell, and lick her wherever I wanted to lick. I would use her until I'd lose consciousness. My brain had shut down, my body had taken over, and it was giving into a need I had denied for much too long. I rolled us over until I was on top before crushing my lips on hers and forcing my tongue into her mouth. Sam gasped – whether she was more surprised by the kiss or by my intensity I didn't know – but she let me in. My tongue ravished her mouth, forcing hers into a dance I wasn't sure she was willing to participate in. The sweet taste of her tongue, the touch of her soft lips – my memory of our first kiss hadn't done her justice. I sucked her bottom lip hard before breaking the kiss and ripping that bath robe open in a split second. My hands and eyes roamed over her body, from her legs to her waist up to her boobs and lingered there, enjoying those perfect breasts, finally in my palms where they belonged. I drank in the naked Sam so many men desired. I had been one of them all along. Her boobs stood up firm, not giving in to gravity. Her pussy was bare, apart from a tiny stripe of well-trimmed pubes she had allowed to remain. Her lips were swollen from our kiss. Her eyes glowed – whether it was fear from what she had gotten herself into or satisfaction of victory, I didn't know. I didn't care. I grabbed her wrists and pinned her legs between mine. In a rush I lowered my lips onto her right nipple, sucking it into my mouth, a bit rougher than necessary, but she was at my mercy. She felt so good. So soft. I let my teeth slide over the nipple I was sucking. It made her shudder, made her back arch. Then I moved my legs in between hers, and pressed my hardness through my pants against her bare pussy. She drew in a sharp breath in response. I released one of her wrists and pushed two fingers into her mouth. Sam wasn't into this – she wasn't into men. We would need all the lube we could get. She sucked on my fingers, increasingly so when I took her left nipple into my mouth and between my teeth. My hips started to move in small circles against her pelvis. I let go of her other wrists and used the hand to unbutton my shirt. When I was done, I slid out of it and tossed it on the floor. I moved my mouth back to her right nipple, twirling my tongue around it while squeezing the other with my free hand. Sam whimpered softly, the sounds muffled by my fingers in her mouth, as my lips moved up, delivering little kisses, licks and nibbles to her shoulder, her ear lobe, her chin, her throat. My mouth was everywhere, exploring Sam on its own. I let my mouth trail south then, a quick stop at her breasts to ensure her nipples were still hard and wet, leaving a trail of wetness with my tongue over her flat tummy, breathing her in. I dipped into her belly button, my hands moving back to molesting her breasts. Her abdomen twitched lightly under the touch of my tongue, and a throaty sound – was it anticipation or fear? – escaped her lips when my tongue continued its journey. I saved her most intimate part for later as I moved my mouth to her knee, licking her inner thigh and slowly closing in on my target. When I was two inches away, one word flashed in my mind. Cedar. The scent I had always been unable to identify about Sam. It was cedar. I could smell it clearly now. For some reason, that was important, but I didn't know why. Smiling to myself, but unable to stop, I slid my tongue over her soft mound. Sam gasped at the contact, and suddenly I wasn't so sure how unenjoyable this whole experience would be for her. Her hands flew to my head and grabbed my hair. Whether to push, pull, or keep me in place, I didn't know. I was lost in the taste of her sex, that heavenly sweet musky scent that appealed to my brain like no other taste ever could. I flicked my tongue over her clit, sucked the tiny button into my mouth, held it between my lips and pressed my tongue against it. I could feel it becoming hard under my care, could hear Sam moan when I lapped my tongue over it, left and right, up and down, circles - she liked it all. Lesbian Best Friend She let out a shriek, maybe even a scream, when I pushed my tongue into her opening, her hands leaving my head in that very instant and gripping the sheets around her. She was panting, her breaths coming in quickly and shallowly. I explored those most intimate walls of her, feeling them contract slightly against my tongue as I pushed in and out. I did so for quite some time, ensuring that she was wet, before I moved my tongue back to her clit and filled her hole with two fingers at once. A loud moan came from deep down her throat, lightly muffled by the bed sheet which she had between her teeth, as I started penetrating her with my fingers, my tongue furiously licking her clit. I added a third finger, bending them lightly to massage her from the inside as I slid them in and out quickly while letting my mouth ravish that pleasurable button of hers. Thirty seconds and a few almost suppressed moans later I felt spasms in her pussy, felt additional wetness on my fingers, felt her hips that had started moving long ago shake uncontrollably – I felt how Sam had an orgasm. A scream of pleasure came from her mouth as I helped her riding out her climax, but my free hand already started to unbutton my own pants and shoving them and my briefs down to my feet before wriggling out of my last items of clothing. "Sam," I said in a deep, husky voice, full of self-control and authority I didn't actually have, once I thought her orgasm had subsided. The beauty underneath me opened her eyes to look at me. For the first time, I couldn't read her eyes. Something I had never seen before was showing in them. I think my face was serious and composed when I said, "This is your last chance to get out of this. Your very last chance." But Sam didn't say anything. Her gaze drifted to my cock and I could see the fear in her eyes. But her lips remained closed. Her voice remained silent. I licked my hand, combined the spit with the precum on the tip of my cock that had started building long ago, and spread it over my member. My hands went to her bum to lift her up and adjust her slightly so that I had a better angle. I placed the tip of my pulsing cock on her entrance and slid it up and down her wet slit. Sam whimpered. Her hands clung onto the sheets so hard, her knuckles turned white. It took more self-control than I thought I possessed to not ram my cock into her, but I managed to pause for a second. I placed my hands on either side of her shoulders and gently lowered my lips on hers. As soft as I could, I tried to kiss the fear and tension away. Slowly, she gave into me and parted her lips, her tongue demanding entrance into my mouth. I granted her, more than that, I sucked her tongue in and engaged it in another dance, a slower, softer dance this time, a waltz compared to the salsa we had shared earlier. Her nipples brushed against my chest, her hands left the sheets and looped around my neck, and her legs parted further. With her tongue entwined with mine, I rocked my hips forward gently. Sam groaned into my mouth, but she kept her part. She didn't break the kiss, she didn't let go of my neck. I kept my hips still, letting her find her own pace to allow my initial intrusion. It took her a second to understand what I wanted, but then her hips slowly wiggled forward, and she impaled herself on my cock. It wasn't long before my member was buried deep inside her. We just stayed like this for a while, getting used to the feeling of each other. "Sam," I managed to breath after breaking the kiss, "you feel so good. So tight." Almost involuntarily, my hips jerked back and forth, starting a new rhythm. Sam clung onto my neck for dear life, pulling me down, noises I couldn't identify escaping her lips. Her sex gripped me tightly and I quickened the pace, plunging into her with every stroke, hard, fast and deep. I felt Sam's legs looping around me to pull me in, an act of instinct rooted deep down in her brain. I undid her hold on my neck, grabbed her right hand and led it to her clit before using her fingers to rub her. Within seconds, her fingers moved without my help, and I lowered my mouth back on hers. I tried to figure out what Sam wanted from me, but she was giving me mixed signals. Her hips didn't meet my thrusts, but her hand rubbed her clit furiously and her tongue twirled around mine in a way I thought was more than just to participate. I could only guess what was going on in her pretty head, what the mixture of revulsion against my gender, the pleasure she felt because of the physical stimulation and the thrill of the unknown would do to her. Sam's hand had seemed to pick up the pace and I guessed that she was close again, but I wanted to leave her dangling. I stopped, withdrew my member and pulled her legs up to her head, exposing her private areas in an obscene way before I plunged my tongue deep into her. She was wet, so wet, and I couldn't help myself but enjoy her taste, savour it, commit it to memory as I knew that this arrangement we had would come to an end. Sam was driving me mad now, as she had become more vocal, more engaged than before, and those sexy moans that escaped her lips didn't help my self-control. I rolled her over so that she was on her side, her back toward me, as I spooned up behind her, pure need shining from my quick actions. I lifted up one of her gorgeous legs, placed the tip of my rock hard member on her entrance and kissed her neck. Sam didn't shriek like she had when I first entered her, she didn't flinch – instead, she pushed down the instant I pushed into her, impaling herself on me again. Those familiar, velvet walls of her pussy brushed over my cock, pressing firmly against it, and I gasped in pleasure while burying myself inside her. My hips started rocking, plunging in and out of her, as my hand looped around her body, searching for her clit and started to rub her little pleasure button. Sam moaned, groaned with every stroke, her own hands squeezing and twisting her nipples as I nibbled her throat. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck," she chanted between moans, as I fucked her relentlessly. My fingers moved in a blur over her clit, rubbing her furiously. I nibbled her ear lobe, which was hard to catch considering the activity that was going on, my hot breath washing quickly and shallowly over her perspired skin. "Don't stop, don't stop now, please don't stop," Sam whimpered, her hand drifting down to her clit, only to realise that mine was already working overtime down there. She then moved hers to my butt, trying to pull me in, to quicken the rhythm, willing to do anything to increase the intensity of our fuck. "Oh god." she shrieked as she came, her lower abdomen shaking from spasms, her tight pussy contracting incredibly around my cock. "Sam!" I moaned, make that grunted, as my own orgasm crashed over me and I shot my load into her, wave after wave, with her pussy milking me rhythmically. I clung onto consciousness, glad that I wasn't on top when we had come or I would have crushed her. We had come. Together. I didn't know what to do with that. We both stayed in that position for a long while, trying to catch our breaths with my cock still deep inside my lesbian best friend, enjoying the afterglow of our climaxes. Only when I came down from that rush, realisation hit me. What have I just done? "I'm so sorry, Sam." "For what?" she asked between two breaths. "For losing control like that. Have I hurt you?" I asked concerned. "No, I'm fine." she said, but her voice was shaky and insecure. We lay like that for another, long time – minutes, not seconds. Neither of us moved, and neither of us talked. Whether Sam was as unwilling or unable as I was, or whether she did it out of politeness, I didn't know. Our breathing had settled long ago when I eventually withdrew my softening member from her and rolled over onto my back. A long moment later, Sam said, "Hey, your ... stuff ... is coming back out. Yuck!" At least her voice didn't sound shaky anymore. "Well, where did you think it would all go? You need one cell for a baby. I gave you a couple of million." I answered in a matter-of-fact tone. "So, do you think we've just made a baby?" she was hopeful. "Highly unlikely, but we still might." I answered. "What? Don't get cocky, mister!" she said in a teasing voice. Relief washed over me. Sam was teasing. Maybe we could get through this. "I didn't mean that." I couldn't stop myself from chuckling. "Technically, you're only fertile during your ovulation, which lasts twelve to twenty-four hours. To make the timing a bit simpler, my stuff, as you called it, lives on for up to five days inside you. So you might not be pregnant just now, but you could still become pregnant in the next couple of days." "Have you taken a biology class at university I don't know of?" I chuckled again. "No, I've done my homework after you've dropped the bomb on me. You see, statistically ..." "Good lord, why on earth did I have to end up in bed with a statistics freak?" Sam interrupted in mock horror before giggling lightly. I joined her. "Let's sleep, shall we?" I asked when our laughter had settled. "Mhm," was her already sleepy answer. I turned on my back and fell asleep almost immediately, exhausted from previous activities. I slept dreamlessly that night. No pictures of Sam, no naughty sex sessions, no nothing. When I woke, however, the first thing I noticed was that one discovery I had made yesterday. Cedar. How could I have missed it so long? Honey, a hint of vanilla, and cedar. I took a deep breath, Sam's scent being stronger than ever – I must be lying close. But that wasn't all. We hadn't showered after having sex, the scent of her soap, shampoo and perfume had subsided, and all that was left was Sam. Pure Sam. Her scent was heavenly. Only then did I notice that her body was pressed into mine. My face was buried between her shoulder blades. My morning erection squeezed between her thighs. My hand cupped one of her breasts, her arm lay over mine. How we had ended up like this, I didn't know, not even a theory came to my mind. "Sam?" I whispered as softly as I could. There was no answer. It was both awkward and wonderfully intimate. I tried to disentwine, but couldn't bring myself to it. Her scent was too strong, her skin too warm against mine, and she simply felt too good in my arms. For a long time, I just lay there, barely able to not flex my fingers, to not move my hips one bit, to at least not molest her consciously. It took every ounce of willpower I had. Eventually, I couldn't stop myself from placing a kiss on her neck. My lips brushed on her skin, and what should have become a quick peck ended up being a long and soft kiss. Who was I kidding? Oh my god. "I love you, Sam Wilson." I whispered in the same low voice I had used before. I kissed her neck again before I eventually disentwined myself from her, got up and walked to the bathroom. A voice stopped me in my tracks. "What was that?" Sam asked out of the dark. "What do you mean?" I asked back after taking a breath. "What did you just say?" she pressed, the shock evident in her voice. "Um ... nothing?" Shit, had she actually heard that? "Don't act daft, I heard you." Uh-oh. "That ... that wasn't supposed to be heard." I replied truthfully. Leave it to you, Leon, to ruin not only the moment, but everything. I stood there for another moment. Neither of us spoke. Eventually, I got into the shower. We went for breakfast early, not talking, hardly looking at each other. I couldn't look at Sam, afraid of what I'd see in her eyes. When my curiosity got the better of me and I did take a glimpse, I only found her staring away from me. We drove home early afternoon after spending an hour sunbathing at the beach, again in complete silence. Sam seemed deep in thought. When I dropped her off, we didn't say more than 'Bye' to each other. It was only when I was in the safety of my own home that misery crushed over me. I felt the tears in my eyes when I walked up the driveway, and as soon as my door had closed behind me, I cried. I sobbed. I was a thirty-three year old man, whimpering like a child. On a single night, I had fallen in love with my best friend of seventeen years. With a friend who wouldn't and couldn't return the love I felt for her. A friend I had pushed away by saying those three little words. How fucking stupid am I? ### I did what every normal man does to mend his broken heart, and probably what many men before me had done to get over Sam Wilson. I went out. I drank. Oh lord, did I drink. I didn't care whether it was weekend or not. Somehow, I managed to show up at work the next morning – once I went there straight from the pub. I was lucky that the only word I had to share with my boss was "girl-trouble" on the third day to earn his understanding. He told me to stay home when I thought it would be better, and to come in when I thought that would be better. I appreciated the offer, but I did come in every day. I wouldn't stay home sick because of Sam Wilson. Or would I? Of course the lads had noticed that something was severely wrong with me, but I wasn't willing to give up anything. The arrangement I had with Sam was strictly private, and even now that things had backfired horribly, I wasn't going to betray her - even if I wasn't ever going to see her, to speak to her again. Her secrets would be safe with me. I started about three-hundred texts to Sam, but I didn't send a single one of them. Innocent questions about how she was doing, some teasing, or even shouting what a bitch she was – all those thoughts crossed my mind and had been typed into my mobile phone, but I never pressed the 'Send' button. The silence was mutual. I didn't get an email, a text or a call from her. Two weeks later, I had eventually managed to stop the downward spiral. I had the lads over at my place and we enjoyed an early summer day with a barbeque, a couple of beers and a football match on the TV we had carried outside to my backyard. It was the first normal day I had since that night with Sam, and I managed to smile and have a couple of laughs. Even my team won. I started to look at the bright side of life again – if only there wasn't that aching spot in my chest whenever I thought of Sam. They had left at around 8pm and I had started to clean up my back yard when the doorbell rang. I had found Pat's hoodie which he had forgotten on one of the chairs outside. I quickly grabbed it and brought it to the door, assuming that was him wanting to pick it up. I opened the door. But outside wasn't Pat. That was the only thing I realised before a hand flew to my cheek, giving me a resounding slap. Only then I managed to look up. There she was, wearing yoga pants and a sweat shirt, no makeup, her hair hanging loosely over her shoulders. She looked tired. Exhausted. Only her eyes were filled with anger. Make that fury. Sam was furious. With me. And still breathtakingly beautiful. "How fucking dare you say you fucking love me?" She said in a shaking voice, trying hard not to scream. "What?" was all I managed to say, my own hand rubbing my cheek where she'd hit me. "You cannot love me, Leon. You can't. I ... Fuck." That's when she started to cry. To sob. "Oh Sam," I breathed, looping my arms around her waist, moving her inside and closing the door behind us. Sam protested against my touch, but only briefly, before her arms looped around my neck and clung on for dear life. I pressed her body against mine, feeling guilty that even in this moment all I could think of was how good she felt in my arms as she soaked my tee-shirt. We stood like that for a couple of minutes before the crying, beautiful creature in my arms eventually raised her head and looked into my eyes. Her eyes were soft. Gone was the fury, replaced by something tender, something I hadn't seen before. Nothing had prepared me, however, for what happened next. In a swift move, Sam stood on her toes and pressed her lips against mine before I could do anything about it. My body went rigid from shock, my hands dropping loosely to her hips, but my lips moved with hers. She deepened the kiss as her arms around my neck locked me in place. It took me a moment to snap out of it and break the kiss. "Sam, what the ... What?" I managed to stutter. It was hard to distinguish between all the different emotions in her voice and eyes, especially through her tears. Happiness, sadness, and that tenderness I'd seen before. She even had mocking in her voice when she said, "I've had my period, you bastard. You were supposed to give me a baby." Her lips twitched into a smile. "I'm hardly ever a day off, and now I was even a day early!" "Sam, even if we had sex right now, you wouldn't get pregnant from that. Your cycle..." I managed to say. "Don't you get it, you idiot?" she interrupted softly, brushing her fingers over my cheek where she hit me and staring through the tears into my eyes. "This isn't about the baby." "What is that supposed to mean?" I was confused now. She looked down and leaned her forehead against my chest. "It used to be, okay? It was all I wanted. I never lied to you. But then you come along with that fucking cock of yours. That repulsive piece of flesh." She snorted through her tears before she continued, "And you rape me with it after you raped me with your mouth, your tongue and your hands. I should find it repulsive. I should hate you. Instead, I find myself thrown into intense orgasms and keep staring at you all night long, stroking your biceps and abs for hours, like a drooling idiot who can't take her eyes off you. And then you turn to your side in your sleep, and I can't stop myself from spooning into you, place your cock between my legs and your hand on my breast. "I felt so safe. Warm. Protected. Loved. You didn't need to say one fucking word in the morning – I had felt it while you slept. How your arms tightened around me, how you pressed your face into my shoulders. How we merged, how we became one. How your breath tingled my back. How your fucking five-o'clock shade that I always hated scratched my skin, and suddenly it was the most erotic touch I could imagine. How you didn't move an inch when you woke. The last piece of proof was your kiss on my neck because you thought I was still asleep. I knew then you were in love with me – and I thought my heart would explode from joy." She paused briefly, looked up to stare into my eyes and spoke, "But I'm not into men! I'm gay. I'm gayer than bloody Ellen DeGeneres or Elton John. It's the one thing I'm sure of in my life. I don't know if I picked the right major at university, don't know if I like my job, hell, I'm still not absolutely sure if I really, really want that baby. But I do know that I'm gay. And now you've taken this away from me, Leon. This one constant in my entire sorry, fucking life." Her voice broke down at the end, and she buried her face in my chest again, and her arms clung tightly to me. Her voice was soft and velvet, hardly more than a whisper when she said, "How fucking dare you?" We stood like that for a long moment. Minutes later when Sam looked up to me, I was still unable to speak. Her eyes were soft, tender, and full of ... love. She stood on her toes and started kissing my face. "I love you, Leon. And if you really love that emotional, ex-lesbian bitch in front of you, I suggest you take her to your bed room and fuck her brains out." she breathed. "No, Sam," I answered. She became rigid in my arms, "I'm not going to fuck your brains out. I'll make love to you." And with that, I swept her into my arms and carried her to bed. ### "For fuck's sake," I said, my voice calm and soft despite the words I had chosen, but still thick from sleep, "she just can't shut the fuck up, can she?" Lesbian Best Friend Incomprehensible mumbling came from very close to my ear. "Beg your pardon." I said in the same voice. "She has your genes, baby. What did you expect?" Sam breathed sleepily from behind me. I chuckled. "Guess you're right. Since this is my fault, I'll go get her. You can sort out all the drama once she's in her teens." Sam giggled, retrieved her arms from me, and I forced myself to get up and walk over to baby Chantal's room. Ten minutes later, I was back in my bed – our bed. Sam had moved in a month after that night which started with a slap to my face, and ended with us passing out in each other's arms in the early morning hours after a marathon of lovemaking and both of us calling in sick. We knew we hadn't made Chantal that night, but it was the night we founded our little family. We must have created the screaming, kicking, crawling and much loved addition one night during the following weeks. The weekend Sam had moved was the same weekend her period was due – and didn't happen. We hadn't spent a night apart since. "I think she does that on purpose. She's not even hungry. She just wants a cuddle and she's all happy again, practically passing out in my arms." I said with a hint of amusement in my voice. "Those would be my genes." Sam giggled. "There is no doubt that she's yours. She's beautiful. Just like her mother." I whispered as I brushed a strain of Sam's hair behind her ear. "Don't give me that look. It's 2.30 am!" she countered. "It's a Saturday, though." I pressed. "And what do you think baby X here is going to say about this?" Sam breathed sexily as she moved her lips to mine, sat astride on top of me and pressed the light swell of her belly softly against my abdomen. "Baby X is going to do exactly the same as the last three months of its young, happy, warm and cuddled-up life. It won't notice a thing," I whispered before kissing her back, "but I read that it's good for the baby if the mother has a lot of endorphins in her system. You'd do anything for our baby, wouldn't you?" "Mhm, and where have you read that?" Sam asked as her hand drifted slowly down my body and her lips delivered kisses to my throat. "I just made it up." I admitted. My breathing had become heavy. "You lying bastard," she said in a seductive voice before kissing me again, "If you don't want to become a lying wanker, you'll have to suffer my punishment. Your hands stay on the bed for the first three minutes." Her hand grabbed my hard cock. "That's ... torture." I managed to gasp as she placed the tip of my cock on her entrance. "Take it or leave it. If you're a good boy," Sam went on, "I might lick you clean once I've had my way with you. Or even better ..." She didn't bother to continue to speak. Instead, she moved my cock slightly, further up between the cheeks of her bum. How could I say no to that? Sam didn't wait for my answer, as she moved my cock back to her pussy and impaled herself in one stride, gasping in pleasure at the familiar feeling. Lesbian Best Friends Pt. 01 It was warm for a Tuesday in June, but I really didn't notice it. The only thing I could think about was the warm ocean and beach that awaited me at the end of a two hour car trip. My friend Jess' family owned a beach house that they went down to every summer; usually they invited my family as well, considering how close Jess' parents and mine were. Unfortunately, this year, my folks couldn't go though they pushed me to go anyway. I wasn't about to say no; I had been away at college all year (my freshman year had been interesting) and I wanted to relax. Plus I wanted to see Jess. Jess and I had practically grown up together; we went to the same schools, wore the same clothes when we were little, has similar interests. We remained close all through high school, even when we got accepted to different colleges. It didn't help that in our senior year of high school, I had developed a slight crush on Jess. As I drove, I couldn't get the image of Jess in a bikini out of my mind. She was very well endowed with d-cup breasts despite being rather thin and a shapely ass that was quite frankly beautiful. I always felt inferior next to her, with my b-cup breasts and no ass to speak of. Jess would always say that she envied me, but I still felt inadequate. The thoughts of Jess helped the time fly by and it wasn't long before I pulled into the driveway of the beach house. "Liz!" Jess called from a second floor balcony,waving down at me. "Hey Jess," I called back and waved. "Let yourself in, I'll be right down," Jess said before disappearing. I smiled and, grabbing my luggage from the rear seat, headed up the front stairs and let myself in. The house was beautiful, as always. Three stories, the house was divided between a main living floor and two floors of mainly bedrooms. The front door opened onto the living room, to the left of which was the kitchen and stairs connecting the first, second, and third floors and the garage. To the right was a dining room. On the floor below were four bedrooms and two baths, while the floor above contained two bedrooms, a single bathroom and the aforementioned balcony. "It's great to see you Liz," Jess smiled as she came down the stairs. She pulled me into a tight hug, one I readily returned. "You too Jess. And look at you," I said as I stepped back, my hands resting on Jess' hips. "You look great. College agrees with you." "I could say the same about you Liz," Jess laughed. My heart raced slightly as her chest jiggled; Jess was only wearing a loose fitting yellow sundress, and underneath I could make out a bikini. "Come on, let's get you settled." I followed Jess, saying hello to her parents and brother in the living room as we headed towards the stairs. We went upstairs to the room we shared and I threw my bags onto one of the two twin beds. While there were more than enough rooms for Jess and I to have our own separate rooms, ever since we were little girls we always shared a room. I always told myself it made me feel like I had a sister, but in later years I wasn't so sure that was the only reason. "Since it's so early," Jess said, "My folks suggested we go to the beach. I wasn't going to argue." I simply nodded, coming to understand why Jess had her bikini on already. "Okay, let me get changed and then I'll be ready to go. I could use some relaxation after that long car ride," I laughed. Jess nodded and smiled, closing the door behind her as she left. I quickly got changed into a light blue string bikini that showed off my curves, or at least that was what the saleswoman had told me when I bought it. Looking at myself in the mirror attached to the bsck of the bathroom door, I hoped it didn't show off too much curve. "If you're worried, Liz, you look great," Jess' voice said from the open bedroom door. I watched her from the mirror come in and stand next to me. "It does fit you well." "Thanks Jess," I said, glad my friend liked it. "Though next to you I probably won't get much attention." Jess rolled her eyes as I laughed; I always kidded my best friend about her well endowed body. "Well, I know one person who's eyes will be on you," Jess smiled mischievously. "Let me guess, your brother right?" "Okay two sets of eyes," laughed Jess and I joined in. Ever since we had hit puberty, Jess' brother had looked at us differently; hormones I guess. It didn't hit me until we were headed out of the house to the beach that Jess had mentioned two sets of eyes... *** I woke with a start, for a moment forgetting where I was. The sound of waves crashing against the shore and seagulls overhead combined with the heat of the sun brought me back to the beach. We - Jess, her parents, brother and myself - had come to the beach an hour earlier; Jess and I spent some time in the water when we first got to the beach before come back and laying on some blankets in the sun. I stretched, having apparently dozed off. I looked to my right to see Jess laying next to me, face down and the string undone from her top. To our left were the rest of Jess' family, all sitting in multi-colored beach chairs. Sitting up, I brought my knees up to my chest and looked out onto the water. My mind started wandering before I heard Jess say, "Finally up huh?" "Long car trip," I replied and smiled. "Yeah. Hey, want to go for a walk Liz, stretch those legs of yours?" Jess asked. I thought for a second before nodding yes. While Jess retied her top, I stood up and stretched once more; out of the corner of my eye, I couldn't help but notice that Chase, Jess' brother, looking my way. "We'll be back soon," Jess said as she stood. Like me, Jess was wearing a string bikini, only hers was dark green. "Take your time, sweetie," Jess' mom said. "We'll be here for awhile longer." We waved goodbye and started walking; neither of us had put anything else on (I had simply worn jean shorts and a tank top to the beach) as it was too nice out. As we walked, Jess and I talked about college, love lives and life in general. Half an hour passed before I noticed that we had come across an empty stretch of beach. I asked Jess where we were. "We're beyond most of the hotels," Jess replied. "Actually I found this place a few years ago; it's quiet, secluded and tourist free." "And you never told me about it Jess?" I said mock-accusingly. "A woman's got to have some secrets," Jess winked before we both broke out laughing. "It's lovely," I said and it was true. The sand seemed cleaner here, and dunes made this stretch of sand seem like it's own private area. You couldn't hear anyone, nor could you see anyone around. "I would sometimes come here if I needed some alone time," Jess said, looking out to sea. "Oh?...oh," I replied as it dawned on me what Jess actually meant. "No one's ever caught you?" "Nope," Jess smiled. "That's why I like it so much here. A person or people could do whatever and be perfectly safe from prying eyes." I looked at Jess, who returned the gaze; she seemed to be beckoning me closer. As we just stood there, Jess licked her lips gently, our eyes never disengaging. "Um...maybe we should..." I started to say when Jess took me by the shoulders and kissed me full on the lips. Surprised to say the least, I didn't know what to do at first; it was a few seconds before I felt myself kissing Jess back, my arms snaking around my best friend's back. I felt Jess' tongue work itself into my mouth, my tongue running over hers and our bodies pressed gently together. We simply stood there kissing for what seemed like forever but was probably only a few seconds to a minute. When our mouths broke apart, my face felt flushed and I could tell Jess' was also "That was better than I could ever imagine," Jess said sweetly. Our arms still wrapped around each other, bodies stayed pressed together lightly. "I've been wanting to do that for a long time Liz." "You...have?" I asked, still somewhat surprised; Jess nodded. "It did feel nice," I blushed. "Than why stop now?" Jess said seductively. With that, our lips met again in a passionate embrace; now that I wasn't caught unawares, I was able to turn my full attention to kissing Jess. This time, it was my turn to explore her mouth with my tongue. Jess gently sucked on it as I explored her mouth as my hands roamed up and down her back. Meanwhile Jess' hands came to rest on my ass, giving it a slightly squeeze; all I could so was smile into the kiss. "I've thought about this for a long time," Jess said as we broke for air again. "Oh really?" I teased, much more comfortable now. "Well, to tell the truth, so have I," I whispered, delighted to see surprise in my friend's eyes. Obviously she hadn't expected me to feel the same way towards her. Biting her lower lip, Jess seemed to decide something as she said, "Well, we've got a length of beach all to ourselves, Liz. Why not make use of it?" I nodded, happy to go along with whatever my friend had in mind. We picked up our kissing and, as we did, Jess' hands wandered up from my ass to my bikini top and started undoing the strings; I followed suit, undoing her green strings. Once we finished, we leaned backward slightly and slipped our tops off, throwing them into a pile next to us. I could feel Jess' nipples were hard, poking my own boobs as mine were probably doing to hers. Jess steered me slowly around before gently pushing me to the ground. I looked at her, usure of what my friend was doing, her boobs hanging freely towards me. Jess smiled, kissed me gently on the lips before sliding down and blowing softly on each nipple. Already hard, my nipples seemed to get even harder, before Jess leaned forward and gently took my right nipple in her mouth. While her tongue flicked my nipple, Jess slid her left hand down my stomach and into my bottoms; gently grazing my pussy, Jess slid a single finger into my already wet pussy. "Oh Jess," I breathed. The feeling of Jess' tongue and finger was something I had sometimes dreamed of but never really expected. As she sucked, I slid my own hands down her back, eventually reaching under Jess and sliding my own hand into her bottoms. "Oh yeah," Jess sighed when I slipped my own finger into her pussy. We slowly fingered each other until Jess tugged at me and we switched positions; now on top, I started sucking on her nipples, eliciting soft moans. "I...I want to come with you Liz, but not like this," Jess breathed after a few minutes. "What did you...have in mind?" I asked as I stopped sucking. Our boobs glistened with our spit, which ran together when I leaned forward and rubbed mine against hers. Jess gave me a look that said 'trust me.' I simply nodded, as not a word was spoken. Jess pushed me into a sitting position and started slipping out of her bottoms; like before, I followed suit. Now fully naked, Jess and I looked at one another again, I surprisingly glad at this turn of events. Jess simply smiled before slipping one leg under one of mine and bringing her pussy to within an inch of mine; I already knew what she had in mind. With our hands holding ourselves up from behind, Jess and I inched forward until our wet pussies touched. A soft moan escaped my mouth to which Jess simply smiled. And with that, we started grinding our pussies together, slowly at first but eventually picking up the pace. "Oh...oh Jess," I moaned. "I...I know," moaned Jess. The sand underneath us was warm to the touch and got hotter as we continued to scissor. "Come here..." Jess moaned as she leaned forward with outstretched left arm. I did as she asked and wrapped my arms around Jess as she wrapped her arms around me. Our boobs continued to bounce as we picked up the pace, our pussies grinding harder and harder together. Our mouths locked into a passionate kiss, I felt a wave of ecstasy wash over me as I started coming. From the way Jess moaned into the kiss and intensity of the kiss, I could tell my friend was orgasming too. Our bodies shuddering together, I held Jess close until it passed. Pulling away from the kiss, our bodies covered with sweat, I looked at Jess and she looked at me and smiled. "Amazing," Jess breathed. "Yeah," I replied. We simply sat there for awhile in each other's arms before deciding to go back. Slipping back into our bikinis, Jess and I walked back hand in hand; a feeling of euphoria washed over me as we walked. Never did I think I could be as happy with my best friend, or any woman for that matter. As we neared Jess' family, but before we reached them, Jess pulled me into a tender embrace. "This is going to be a fun two weeks," Jess smiled as she stepped back from the kiss. I could only nod, too lost in my friend's beautiful eyes.