Am I disappointed my ex didn’t show up for my birthday like he promised me he would?
Absolutely.
But am I disappointed that my best friend Oliver is stepping in to make up for it?
Decidedly… no.
We’re at my work wife’s apartment, and you can tell things are settling down for the night. My sister and her new boyfriend went home already, and half of our friends around us are yawning, eyes dipping closed like they might just stay right where they are and drift off to sleep.
But I am wired. Oliver is sitting right next to me on the couch, his muscular thigh pressed against mine. Tonight was supposed to be a girls’ night, which got derailed when my ex told me he’d be in town. And once I got the idea in my head of coming home after a night out with someone, I felt nothing but disappointment when he said he couldn’t make it.
So I made a split second decision and called up my best friend, who’s made it known multiple times in the past that he thinks I’m hot. He’s not a relationship kind of guy, but I’m a relationship kind of girl-so we’ve sat in a strange middle ground for the past few months.
Until tonight. He knew tonight was a girls’ night for my birthday. And he also knew my ex was supposed to show up but didn’t.
And the way he keeps throwing his arm so casually around my shoulder tells me he knows why I invited him. And he’s down.
He touches me so lightly, his fingers running across my forearm or the ends of my hair. He’s leaning back into the couch so comfortably, his body pressing against mine like this is the way we’re supposed to fall together.
If he wasn’t my best friend, I’d be staring at him with heart eyes. Corded forearms and a strong jawline. Green eyes that see right into your soul. Jeans that hang off his hips so perfectly that they should probably be illegal.
He is objectively beautiful.
And when another few of our friends decide to call it a night, he throws his arm around my shoulders again, tugging me against him and presses his lips against my ear. “Are you ready to get out of here?”
I nod despite the rush of goose bumps his words send across my skin.
He takes my hand and we say goodbye to our friends, waving over our shoulders as we gather our things and step into the hallway. As we take the elevator down, he rests his arm around my shoulders again, tugging me close as he watches my expression.
“So dickhead Rod failed to show up yet again,” he says.
I shrug as we step out of the elevator into the lobby. “Is anyone surprised at this point?”
He gives me a look. “I don’t think anyone is surprised. But I’m wondering why you keep on going back to him.”
He holds the door to the street open for me, and the gust of cold wind has me shivering immediately.
It’s my birthday-I was going for sparkles here, not optimal warmth. The little dress doesn’t do much to protect me from the temperature.
But I don’t hate that Ollie takes the opportunity to throw his arm around my shoulders again. He lets out a long breath, looking at me as if to ask whether this is okay, and I just wrap myself around his middle. We hug plenty. Touch plenty. But we both know that tonight is a diversion from our usual.
“I’m not going back to him. He said he wanted to show me a good time for my birthday. And I mean, I want to have a good time for my birthday.”
I’m struggling to toe the line between referring to Ollie as a booty call versus something more. I know him well enough-and he’s put himself solidly in the potential booty call category-but I also don’t want to offend him by assuming something I shouldn’t.
Ollie shrugs. “Hey, if the shoe fits.”
If the shoe fits? Please tell me he’s not bringing feet into this.
I bite my lip, before deciding to just throw everything right in the open because that’s much more my speed anyway. “Are you okay with this?” I ask him, eyeing him as we walk.
He laughs. “Yeah, Steph. I am more than okay with this.”
And before I can ask him again in slightly different words, he winds his fingers into my hair, tugging my face to his as we walk, and kisses me. It’s not romantic, but demanding, and it has a fire burning deep in my core.
“Are you okay with this?” he asks, his breath hot across my cheek.
And all I can think about are the rock hard abs beneath my fingers. His fingers tight in my hair. The number of seconds it will take me to wiggle out of my dress and throw it to the floor once we get back to my apartment.
I nod. “Yeah, I’m okay with this.”
I quicken my pace, spurred on by the cold outside and the warmth building in my abdomen. Ollie matches me, and we reach my apartment in record time, blasting through the door and leaving them on the chairs around my kitchen table. When he sees me shiver, he rests his hands on my upper arms and uses friction to warm them.
I almost instantly feel the heat creeping up my neck.
“Want a drink?” I ask, my confidence faltering.
“Sure. You still have that whiskey I left here?”
I grimace. “No. But I have the fresh bottle I bought to replace it.”
He laughs. “You didn’t have to do that.”
I shrug as I grab a tumbler from the cabinet and pour him a small serving. I had it over to him and he nods in thanks as I pull out a wineglass for myself and grab the bottle of Pinot Grigio from the fridge.
Fresh drink in hand, I turn to face him. He looks so comfortable in my apartment, leaning against my counter and taking small sips of his whiskey. His green eyes bore into mine as I take a step toward him, dipping briefly as I reach around him to set my wine on the counter.
His free hand falls to my hip, grabbing onto me gently, as if to ask whether I still want this.
I swallow, my eyes locked on his, as I lean slightly forward. His fingers dig into my hip, tugging me closer.
My lips brush against his with a jolt that runs all the way down my body into my toes. A breathy moan jumps from my throat as he abandons his drink on the counter behind him and grabs me, pulling me tight against him. He weaves a hand up into my hair, his mouth moving harshly against mine. I can feel his low grunt in his chest.
I run my hands over his abdomen-all hard muscle that bunches with my touch-and wrap my arms around his neck.
He reaches down and grabs my ass, his squeeze causing a surprised gasp to leave my lips.
He takes the opportunity to kiss my neck, a light laugh emanating from him as he twists us and presses me against the counter.
“Stephanie,” he says, nipping lightly at my skin. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his hand dragging along my hip.
I lick my lips, knowing my next words have the potential to change our relationship irreversibly. “I want you.”
For a moment, I think he might not have heard me. He just continues kissing my neck and grabbing at my hip.
But then he rears back, a grin on his face as he runs his fingers through my hair. And then he kisses me again, tipping my chin up as he tongue winds into my mouth. It’s indulgent, like we have all the time in the world, but needy too.
He reaches behind me, finding the zipper of my dress and slowly pulling it down. It pools around my feet and I step out of it as his hands roam my body, his eyes drinking in skin that he hasn’t seen before. I reach for his shirt, grabbing at the hem and pulling it up slowly, waiting for him to tell me to stop. To slow down. To not ruin our friendship.
But he doesn’t. He lets me tug it over his head and I run my hands over his warm, hard skin. His head tips back as I dip my head to press a kiss against his chest, a long breath escaping him.
He wants this just as much as I do.
When our eyes lock again, there’s something that passes between us. Something needier than lust, deeper than desire.
And when he kisses me again, all bets are off. He lifts me, my legs winding easily around his waist as he carries me into my bedroom, throwing me onto the bed like I’m weightless. He nudges my knees apart with his and settles between them, my hips jumping to meet his as his body lowers to mine, his lips brushing along every spare bit of skin he can find.
He pops my bra, and I tug the straps off, throwing it to the ground next to us. He groans as he takes me in, palming breast and thumbing my nipple.
“Fuck, Stephanie,” he says, moving lower so he can take it into his mouth.
I moan as his tongue circles my nipple, flicking at it lightly. “God, that feels so good.”
As his tongue moves around my nipple, he reaches down and runs his thumb underneath the string of my thong, as if to test to the waters. My hips buck up toward him, pleading for him, and he pulls away from me to tug them down my legs.
His eyes are glued to the glint of wetness along my legs. Discarding my underwear on the floor, he runs his hands along my inner thighs, wiping it away, and pushes my legs wider.
With anyone else, I’d resist, feeling far too on display.
But it’s my birthday, and he’s looking at me like a starving man being presented with a feast.
He leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to my knee.
His fingers leave goosebumps as they trail along my legs, until his hand rests in the crook of my hip.
He pauses there, catching my eye. “I’ve fantasized about this moment a little more than I’d like to admit,” he says.
I raise my eyebrows. “Yeah?”
He nods, his thumb brushing so lightly along my slit that a shiver runs through my body. “I’ve been very curious what sounds you make when you feel good.” His thumb circles my clit lightly, and a strangled moan escapes me. “How your body feels.” He moves forward, dragging his lips along the skin of my inner thigh. “How you taste.”
My breath catches in my throat as he takes my clit in his mouth. My body bows to him as he licks me, sucking my clit into his mouth gently and letting out long groan. “And god, you taste so fucking good.”
“Yes yes yes,” I whimper, as he presses a finger into me, using his opposite hands to hold my bucking hips in place.
His fingers pump me rhythmically, his tongue switching between gentle licks and a light suction that has each of my muscles taut.
I can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks. “Soak my face, Stephy,” he says. “I better be fighting for my life by the time I’m done with you.”
With one last kiss to my inner thigh, he picks up speed. He adds another finger, pressing into me deeper and faster as his mouth works my clit. He groans, his eyes locked on mine as my body arches from the bed. I fist my hands in the sheets, desperately holding onto reality as the pressure builds in my abdomen.
“Ollie,” I gasp, as my orgasm builds.
He grunts in response, his eyes still focused on me.
“Ollie, I’m going to-“
His eyes flash with delight as I cry out, as my hips move wantonly toward him. He lets out a long breath that brushes across my stomach and tells me he wants me.
And despite my orgasm cresting and crashing around me, I want him too. Like one orgasm is just not enough.
My legs notch closed around his face as my release wanes, but he doesn’t stop until I’m pushing his head away from me, my legs tight around his face.
“Ollie, Ollie, Ollie,” I mutter, over sensitive but desperate to feel him inside me.
His fingers massage my hips as he leaves a kiss along my inner thigh. “I think you are my new favorite dessert,” he murmurs against my skin.
I throw an arm over my face, struggling to get a hold of myself, as he slowly moves up my body, leaving little kisses along my stomach, my chest. He nibbles at my neck, and slides one arm underneath me, resting his body on top of mine. He kisses me, his tongue slipping into my mouth slow and steady and tasting of me.
“How are you doing, Stephy?”
I nod, biting my lip.
“Speechless? Wow, that’s a first.”
I knock him on the shoulder in response.
He grins. “We should add that to your manual. ‘If experiencing excessive verbiage, play with clit.'”
I can’t help the laugh that escapes me. He chuckles into my shoulder, his arms winding tight around me.
And when I’m finally able to catch my breath, I press a gentle kiss to his neck.
“Mm, that feels nice,” he says. I run my fingers through his hair, pressing my body up into his. “Something tells me Stephy wants another.” He gives me a dramatic shrug. “I’m nothing but the birthday girl’s play thing.” He comes to his knees between my legs again. “What Stephy wants, Stephy gets.”
I sit up, clambering to my knees in front of him, and he raises his eyebrows, waiting for direction.
I lean toward him, kissing him as my hands run along the skin of his abdomen. He lets out a rough breath as his eyes dip to where I’m touching him, where I drag my nails across him lightly and his muscles bunch in response.
And then I tug on him, twisting us so that he falls onto his back on the bed. He presses his lips together and then throws his hands behind his head, watching me. “Or maybe Stephy just takes what she wants.”
I bite my lip, reaching for his jeans. He lifts, and I tug them down his legs, discarding them on the floor next to us. He watches with rapt attention as I reach for him, palming him through his underwear. His jaw clenches as I run my hand along his length, his eyes fluttering back in his head.
I grab at the waistband of his underwear and pull them down, exposing him, and question everything I was about to do to him.
Because he’s fucking huge. Never mind sucking on it-I’m not sure he could fit inside me anywhere.
I swallow as I tug his underwear down his legs and take him in my hand, pumping him a few times.
This is definitely not going to be a sexy blow job.
More like, put it in my mouth and do my best.
“You okay, Steph?” he asks, and I realize my internal alarm is showing. How do we know each other so well yet this whole time he’s neglected to hint at the monster he has caged in his pants?
I nod, committing to just gagging on his dick for a few minutes.
And then I lean down and wrap my lips around his head. He shudders with the contact, and even though I struggle to take him in as deep as I want to, his ragged breaths and clenching muscles tell me I’m doing just fine. His fingers weave into my hair as his body convulses.
“Fuck Steph, I thought it was your birthday,” he says, barely able to get the words out.
I pump him a few times, giving my jaw a break. “I want to make you feel good, too.”
I lower my mouth around him again, and his head tips back, a strangled groan leaving his throat. When he looks at me again, I give him my best grin despite my full mouth.
“You are way too good at that,” he says, shaking his head and letting out a controlled breath.
I take him a little deeper, gagging on him. “Oh god, Steph.” His fingers tighten in my hair. “You better come sit on my dick or I’m going to blow.”
I raise my eyebrows, wrapping my hand around his base and taking him into my mouth faster.
“Steph, that is the opposite of sitting on my dick,” he says.
I only shrug.
“Stephanie.”
I lift my head. “What, you don’t want to come in my mouth?”
“I really do. But not yet,” he says, curling forward to grab my upper arms and pull me closer. “We have all night for that.” I settle on top of him, his hand on the back of my neck as he presses his lips to mine. “I kind of want to be inside you first.”
“Yeah?”
He nods, and then swiftly flips us over. His dick presses against my thigh as he kisses me, one hand trailing down my side and landing on my hip. His tongue winds into my mouth as he grabs himself, running his tip through my slickness. I shudder, my hips bucking up to meet his.
“Are you on birth control?” he asks, his voice pinched.
I nod, my hips searching for friction.
He swallows, letting out a low groan.
“Fuck me, Ollie. I trust you.”
I tug on him, pressing my lips to his jaw and his neck.
He slides into me in one smooth motion, causing me to gasp and tear at his skin as he pauses, letting me adjust to him.
“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” I whimper, desperate for movement.
“You okay, Stephy?”
I nod as his hips rock gently against mine. “Yeah, I’m okay. Better than okay.” He pulses deeper into me and my eyes roll back in my head at the sensation. “Jesus, Ollie.”
He grins down at me while his pace ticks faster, his teeth scraping against the skin of my neck and his hands grabbing at every spare inch of skin they can find. I wrap my arms him, holding him close, as he takes hold of my ass and lifts me, pushing deeper.
I cry out, feeling so overwhelmingly full.
“Stephanie,” he groans into my ear, and my pussy clenches in response to the rough note in his voice. I nip at his skin, my hands dragging across his shoulders and his back and his ass as I pull him in further.
“Ollie,” I say, and he lifts his head, his eyebrows raised. “I want to fuck you.”
He blinks. “Well, boy do I have news for you,” he says, his pace slowing.
I roll my eyes. “No, I want to ride you.”
His tongue follows the line of his teeth as he grins. “Yeah?”
I nod, pushing him off me. He pulls out gently, falling to his back on my bed, and I make a last minute decision to switch things up a bit and straddle him facing his feet. His palm drags across my ass, leaving a sharp slap as I reach down and guide him back inside me.
“Fuck, are you sure it’s not my birthday?” he asks, as I lower down and take all of him.
I moan as I lean forward and pop my ass up. His fingers massage me, constantly touching me even though I can’t see him.
“Stephanie, I wish you could see how well you’re taking me right now. How good you fuck me,” he says, landing another harsh slap on my ass.
I moan, the movement of my hips becoming borderline feral.
“That’s it, Stephy. Mm, I can feel that tight pussy clenching around me.”
I groan. “You can’t say things like that. This position statistically results in the most broken dicks and I’m trying really hard to fuck you safely right now.”
He laughs, slapping my ass again. “Stephy, just go wild. You’re not going to break my dick.”
“I am not taking any chances,” I pant, even though every muscle in my body is coiled, ready to explode.
He sighs. “Alright. Well, I guess I’m just going to have to fuck you wildly then, huh?” he asks.
Before I know what he’s doing, he has an arm around my waist, twisting us gently so I’m on my knees and he’s curled behind me. He presses his knee between mine, urging my legs wider, and fucks me slow and steady.
“This is what you call wild?” I ask him.
He lets out a sputtery laugh, and when I look over my shoulder at him, he’s shaking his head. “Just making sure you can take me, Stephy.” He presses impossibly deep for a moment, stretching me slow and steady. “Because I’m going to need you to be ready for it in about thirty seconds when I fuck you for real.”
I raise my eyebrows, pressing my ass back into him with a challenge.
He raises one eyebrow, leaning over me and winding my hair into his fingers. He tugs just enough that my head tips back, my back arching as he fucks me faster.
“How’s that feel, Stephy?”
“Like you’re not fucking me for real yet.”
He lets out a low groan. “Oh Stephanie, you don’t even know what you’re in for.”
“Don’t be gentle with me, Ollie. Just fuck me.”
He sighs. “Your wish is my command.”
With one hand on my hip and the other twisted in my hair, he slams into me repeatedly. He knocks me onto my elbows, and with every thrust I’m pressed further down into the mattress. He slaps my ass and tugs my hair and asks me if this is the way I wanted him and all I can do is sputter a garbled “Yes,” as the pressure builds in my abdomen and my orgasm breaks around me.
“Look at you coming all over my dick like the good girl you are,” he says, still thrusting into me. He runs a hand down the column of my spine, pressing gently into my skin.
“Oh god,” I whimper, as the rest of the pressure leaves my body and my limbs start to feel like jelly.
“Oh, Steph,” he murmurs, pulling out quickly and spilling on my back, hot liquid spraying out over my skin. He grunts with the last of it, and lets out a long breath that leaves goosebumps over my skin. A moment later, I feel his fingers on my back, spreading his release. “You look really fucking good covered in my come.”
I collapse into my bed, still struggling to catch my breath, as he stands. “You got a wash cloth somewhere?” he asks.
“Closet behind the bathroom door.”
I hear the faucet turn on as the door squeaks closed, and a minute later, he returns. I have my face in the crook of my elbow, rendered boneless by him, and my eyes flutter shut as he runs the warm wash cloth across my back indulgently, wiping him away.
“Turn over, Steph.”
I do as he tells me, and he parts my knees gently, running the wash cloth gently over my swollen pussy. He watches me carefully as he touches me, and when he’s done, he leans forward and kisses me lightly on the lips. “Feeling okay?”
I nod, my heart thumping.
I think I might have just witnessed a side of Oliver I haven’t seen before. Something in me knew he had the naughty side. He’s confident, if not cocky at times.
But this side of him is sweet. Gentle.
We’ve been good friends for a long time now, but as he discards the wash cloth in the bathroom and joins me back in bed, I start to wonder if there might be something else here. If this is just what he does for every girl he sleeps with or if it’s maybe… just for me.
He tugs me into the crook of his shoulder and I rest my head on his chest.
“So, I could probably do that about seventeen more times tonight,” he says casually. “You up for it? How many orgasms you want? I’m giving you an unlimited pass here. Just say the word, birthday girl.”
I laugh into his chest, my body curling in tighter to his. “Okay, I need at least five minutes to recover before we go again.”
“Five minutes? And they say guys take a long time,” he jokes.
I knock his shoulder, and he tugs me closer, leaving a kiss on my forehead. “You take all the time you need, birthday girl. I’ll be right here when you want me.”