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What happens when you become more than friends?
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She feels the rush of adrenaline as her hand touches his thigh. No response, no telling her to stop, in their days of being together he never turns down an invitation to touch. She knows she shouldn't continue, but her heart is aching and her body left wanting. She struggles with the conflict. Just friends! Her mind is screaming, her morality is waning. In the end her desire wins out. She's dying to feel something. She eases her hand further, slowly circling her fingers against the denim. She pauses. Should she continue?

Then she's there, her hand rests on the warmth of his cock. He moves, stirring, sliding closer, his arm draping over her back. She wonders if she should turn to him; see if his angling was intentional. A flickering of movement against her palm, an invitation to continue? She lays her hand against the heat, clinches her fingers together, then waits. Her heart pounds in her chest, the blood pulsing. He doesn't tell her to stop.

Seconds pass by, they feel like hours. She barely moves a finger. Then slowly she lifts her thumb, pressing it against the hardness. Grazing it against the material, she can tell his arousal is there. With each slow stroke his breathing stops, easing into a rhythm when she stops moving. Her heart thuds, all rationality leaves her. She's glad she turned down the wine, her mind lets her know that this might be just what she needs, just what she wants.

She presses her body closer to his. She can feel the heat of his skin. She drapes a leg over his, the couch is perfect for this. Close comfort, normal..the only difference is the placement of her hand. She squeezes his growing member. A moan escapes his lips. Immediately she's wetter. Dammit, he's never had her..how does he know that moans do that? There's no turning back..she doesn't want to stop. She squeezes again. A shudder from him. Again and again she squeezes, her breathing moving with the rhythm. She alternates between the squeezing and the stroking. His hand moves down her chest. The low cut top is perfect for what he wants to do. He idly strokes the top of her left breast in time with her movements.

This tension is agonizing. She doesn't want to make the first move. Well, the first "further" move. As if reading her mind, his lips find hers. The intensity is blazing. The heat, the electricity it all comes crashing around her. She returns the kiss hungrily. Her body responds, so quickly. It latches onto his desire. Feeds on it. She's struggling to keep from pushing him to the floor.

Her hand still on his cock He whispers, "If you're going to keep doing that, we'll have to move to the bedroom." She freezes, only for a second. To continue is to go against what is best. Yet, it feels so good..she doesn't want to stop. She nods. Her voice is determined, she says "Okay."

He grabs her by the hand, pulls her up into his arms. His lips lock onto hers. Their tongues entwine. His breath is sweet, a memory of something forgotten. She sighs. He tangles his hand in her hair, trying to pull her closer. She moves against him. Their bodies melt. Heat. He pulls away. Tugging at her arm as his bedroom nears.

The room is cool. Her heart continues at a reckless rate. He pushes her against the bed. Her body is wanting. Her mouth aching to feel his again. He slides up against her. Presses his lips to hers, softly. " Shall we continue?" Her body is begging. Desperately, she reaches for him. He leans back. Her hands find his waist, tearing at the buttons, ripping at the zipper. Her hand fumbles with his boxers, and then it's free. In all its glory, she can't help but to smile.

She licks her lips hungrily. Slowly she lowers herself, pressing the tip of her tongue against the head. She traces the circumference. Leaving a trail of saliva, she works her way down. Against the base she circles again. Pressing her lips to his balls she sucks, moving further down..to one of the most sensitive places, she barely breathes. Hot, breath against the flesh, brings a moan from his lips. Her tongue darts out. She licks that forgotten space. Moving she draws the balls into her mouth again. Finally she returns, the shaft is hard, waiting. She places her lips above it. Slides down, taking him in. Over and over she bobs. She can feel his pressure. His wanting.

Suddenly she's pushed back. Hands attack her clothes. In mere seconds she's naked. He admires her, she covers her body, not yet comfortable with how it looks. He begins to kiss the flesh. Taking dangerously slow steps towards her sex. His tongue leaves slick spots on the skin. He finds her clit, drawing it into his mouth, he flicks his tongue against the fold. Sucking, kissing..he keeps her on edge. She begs him to continue, to bring her to release. He does so willingly.

The orgasm is shattering. Intense doesn't begin to describe. All the pent up frustration comes pouring out. Her body continues to shudder even as she begs him to enter her. He presses against her. Finds her wet enough for the taking. He proceeds.

Her body is so hot, she can tell when he enters, he notices the change. Her spine arches, her legs wrap around his body. She draws him in, her pussy still convulsing. He thrusts. Moaning over and over. He's close she can tell, she bucks against him, trying to keep the motion going. He grunts. "I don't want to go yet." She orgasms against him again.

Screaming as the sensations rip through her body. She's sensitive enough now, she can feel at least one more. He pushes into her, his motions becoming frantic. She tells him to go..to let loose. He pounds into her, biting softly at the base of her neck. Her body is on end. The orgasm tears through her, as she keeps going he releases. Grinding against her, letting it all go. They slow. He retreats, collapses next to her. Traces a hand across her stomach. She sighs. No regrets.

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