Until yesterday, I had just thought of us as friends and as an impossible fantasy. Yesterday, he told me that he liked me and had always found me to be very attractive. He asked if I would ever like to be with him. I was dumbfounded and could not respond, and we left it at that.
I woke this morning feeling really stupid and found myself wanting to call him. I reached for the phone, but just as I was typing his number, the screen displayed his name. He was calling me. Hesitantly, I put my thumb on the answer button and pushed it.
“Hello, babe,” he said.
“Hey,” I answered wearily.
“Can I come and see you?” he asked.
“Sure. When?” I said.
“Now. Open your front door,” he chuckled.
I rushed to my bedroom window and looked out. He was sitting in his car. He looked so incredibly hot. I rushed back to the phone.
“It is alright,” he said. “Just come and open the door for me.”
I said, “Just give me a few seconds to put something on.”
He laughed, “Oh, please don’t do that.”
I put down the phone and threw on my silk dressing gown. I ran downstairs and, as I got to the front door, I took a deep breath and opened it. As he came through the door, he bent down to hug me. We both went to the kitchen, and put on a kettle for tea.
I could feel him staring at me. It felt like he was undressing me with his eyes. It felt like he wanted to grab me and throw me down on the table and take me right then and there. With that thought in mind, I handed him his cup of tea.
He said, “Look, what I said last night was the truth, but I don’t want it to change our friendship.”
“To tell the truth, Sam, I have wanted to tell you something for a very long time,” I said.
Concerned, he looked at me with his gorgeous blue eyes. As I stopped talking, he put his hand on mine and held it tightly. “Go on. Talk to me,” he said.
I spoke hesitantly, “I have always liked you and thought about you as more than just friends.”
The moment those words came out my mouth, a smirk appeared on his face. I then remembered that I was not wearing anything underneath my gown and asked to excuse myself to change.
“Sam?” I said.
He said nothing, but guided me to the bed. He put me down on my back and started kissing me again, but this time his hand made its way from my hip to my breast, pinching my nipple just the right amount to make me moan. He then stopped to remove his shirt and trousers. He was left wearing only his boxer shorts. I could see he hard cock sticking through the thin material. I went to reach for it but he stopped me and pushed my hand away.
“No. This is about you,” he said.
Without saying a word, he started sucking my right nipple and playing with my other nipple with his left hand. I began moaning as he then moved his hand down my side and slid it in between my legs and up to the warmth of my pussy. I gasped as his hand brushed my clit. He felt how wet I was and started sliding a finger inside me. He then added another, making me moan aloud.
The excitement of fingering me was bringing him close to climax. He sat up and took his boxers off, revealing his 8-inch fat cock. I was in shock he started rubbing it up against my pussy, getting the tip wet. He slid it in slowly. I gasped as the monster disappeared of inside my tight, very wet pussy. He slowly started sliding in and out of me. I was moaning in pure pleasure and he started to pick up the pace as my pussy had adjusted to his size perfectly. He started to breathe heavily and pounded my pussy faster. I felt it throbbing deep inside my pussy and knew that I was going to cum.
My pussy tightened around his cock and a wave of pleasure flashed over body. I screamed in pleasure. Sam started to get deeper and moaned as he is climaxed with me. I felt every drop of his hot cum pump inside me. He slowed down to a stop and put his head on my shoulder. He slowly slipped his now deflating cock out of me and laid beside me. He pulled me over to cuddle up to him. I put my head on his chest and he pulled the cover over us. I looked up to him and he kissed my forehead.
“You’re my girl now,” he said.
“Guess I am,” I smiled happily.
