Best Friends

"You know," Bob said solemnly, "it's beginning to get tiresome."

"Look," Laura replied, after a long hit out of the wine bottle, "you just have to show some patience, some...don't let it bring you down."

"Easy for you to say!" He accepted the bottle, and smirked. "You'll never know how it feels being totally invisible!"

"You're being too dramatic, Bob," she scolded him. "You're not invisible! You're just..."

"Hopeless?" He drank long.

"Trying too hard, sometimes," she corrected him. "And it shows."

"What am I supposed to do, then? Sit in a corner, acting indifferent? Will then women start approaching me?"

"Don't take it to the extremes! That's always been your problem, actually. Never bothering with silver linings, never thinking of a middle point."

"Live a day in my shoes, then come talk to me about silver linings."

"Don't get mad at me!" She protested.

"Sorry," he retreated hastily. "It's just..."

"What happened this time?"

"I was out last night, with the guys," he said, his expression immediately darkening. "To that new night club, downtown? Well, at first, it was alright; we had some beers, made some jokes. Then, after a little while, there was more dancing, more people standing, it was...

"You know how it gets. Crowded, people mingling, all that."

"Yeah, I know...so, what happened?"

"Nothing!" He erupted, then drained the remaining wine. Laura got up, staggered to the fridge, and uncorked the third bottle of the day. "That's the point!" Bob continued, after another snort of wine. "The guys got up, some started dancing with some girls on the floor, others were chatting up girls...and I sat in our booth, suddenly all alone.

"Looking about, smiling at some girls; and they didn't even give me a second glance! Hell, as soon as they noticed me looking at them, they turned the other way, clearly disgusted I was even there!"

"I'm sure you're exaggerating!" Laura said sternly. "It couldn't have been that bad!"

"It was probably even worse," Bob said. "The only times people do notice me, is when I'm with you; and that's because they're wondering how a vile sob like me landed a beauty queen like you."

"Thanks," she whispered with a giggle. "At any rate, I think it's just your negativity talking right now. Or, maybe, you just concentrate on the negative, and miss out on the good things happening around you."

"Bullshit," he retorted angrily. "I do appreciate," he hastily, and apologetically, added, "your efforts, don't get me wrong. It's just, as I've told you so many times, that you cannot possibly know how it feels like; when you walk in a night club, guys are willing to fight over a chance to talk to you.

"For me, well, some girls will probably fight as to who they'll throw at me as a sacrifice, so the rest can enjoy their night."

Laura had a good, long hit from the bottle; the wine began getting a hold of her, her head grew lighter and her limbs pleasantly numb.

When she got up to get another bottle, Bob could not restrain his glance from falling to her firm ass, hardly concealed from her tight shorts, wiggling under her faintly unsteady footsteps. He had to fix his jeans, when she bent over to reach for the bottle.

"We're running low on wine," she said, still bent over, her upper body inside the refrigerator. "Only two bottles left," she picked them both up, uncorked them, and brought them over to the couch.

Bob took one gladly, had a long sip; however, the alcohol did not aid with his raging erection. Laura sat crosslegged next to him, and drank; a few drops spilled down from her mouth onto her white t-shirt, and Bob gulped down, suddenly sweating.

"You know," she said after a few minutes of silent drinking, stumbling lightly on her words, "I sometimes wish I wasn't garnering as much attention as I do."

"Right..." he chuckled dryly, had a good long hit of wine. "That's simply because you don't know otherwise, Laura. You would hate it, trust me, if you had to spend an entire night sitting all alone in a night club, waiting in despair for someone, anyone, to pay you some attention.

"You can get drunk in any bar, sometimes without even paying for a single drink."

"Sure," she frowned, "but, that's only because guys come running to me, due to my looks. No one really cares about what's inside of me, you know? They don't bother ask me about my hobbies, my interests...anything, actually. They just fire up jokes, try to impress me with their job, or how well-read they are, or whatever else they've got going for themselves...sometimes, it's just about lifting their shirt to woo me with their abs, because that's all they've got.

"All but you, Bob," she reached tenderly for his hand, took it into hers. "You've always cared about me; about my interests, what I'm doing with my life, my dreams, even my flaws."

"You've got no flaws, Laura," he whispered, horrified by the sweatiness of his palm and thrilled over the softness of her skin.

She burst into warm, genuine laughter, then leaned closer and kissed him on the cheek; a long, warm, wet kiss that nearly caused Bob's heart to explode.

"That's what I've always loved about you," she suddenly said, her head resting on his rigid shoulder, "how you can always make me laugh and feel good about myself."

He didn't speak; no words would exit his mouth at that moment, even if there were words he wished to utter. He sat rigidly up, staring dead ahead at Laura's bookcase, with countless of thoughts racing through his mind, thousands of emotions and potential actions tormenting his psyche, but, there was nothing he actually could do.

"Are you okay?" Laura lifted her head. "You're shaking."

"I'm alright, yes, it's..." he cleared his throat, unable to face her. "I'm just a little cold, that's all."

"You're joking, right?" She giggled. "It's 30o C outside! I'm sweating buckets here and I wear almost nothing!"

"Yeah," he sighed heavily. "I'm okay, though, don't worry," he added hastily.

"What's got you so fascinated?" She leaped off the couch and stood in front of him. "You keep staring at the books, as if you expect them to talk to you!"

"I'm just going through the titles, that's all..." he apologized.

"Haven't you seen them before? You've been here so many times!"

"Just checking if you got any new ones, that's all..." he mumbled.

"Bob, are you sure you're all right?" She asked, worry apparent in her voice.

"Yes," he replied, heavyhearted; he couldn't avoid looking at her. He stared at her lean body, the perspiration on her soft skin reflecting under the light, her round breasts, her visible—under the thin, white fabric of her t-shirt—nipples.

"Look," she sat next to him, trapped his hand between hers, "don't overthink about what we talked about; you have to stop thinking so much, you know? You tend to think so much, ending up sabotaging yourself; take it easy, act more impulsively.

"Your friends, of whom you're so jealous, don't waste time on weighing consequences, do they?"

Was it the wine, or her words? Bob could not tell; however, in the midst of his drunken haziness, and feeling Laura's hot breath right on his face, he couldn't help but go for the kiss; it had been a dream of his since day one, since they were young children playing in kindergarten, or, riding their bikes after school.

Laura was taken aback; she did not immediately break it off, instead, she responded positively at first, allowing him clumsily to bite her lips, pushing his tongue reluctantly into her mouth. It felt wrong, however, thus quickly she pushed him away, albeit gently, and for a moment she simply stared at him in bewilderment.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." he whispered on the brink of tears, looking at the floor.

"It's okay, it's just..." she paused, arching her eyebrows. "Why?"

He looked up abruptly, a fire raging in his body. He opened his mouth, shut it; repeated the same motion a number of times, unable to muster a coherent thought, let alone an actual sentence.

"I do love you, Bob," she said, in a hoarse voice, while the whole apartment spun around her faster and faster, "but, never did I...I never thought of you in...that way... you know, I'm...I'm sorry, really, it's just..." suddenly, a hiccup thundered her body.

They both burst into chuckles, the tension suddenly decreased; he leaned forward, his time to place his hands over hers.

"Laura," he said, in an unsteady voice, rocking back and forth, fueled by alcohol courage, "I've always loved you; ever since we were kids. I was just..." he paused, cleared his throat. He closed his eyes, desperate to regain some clarity, wash away the blurriness of both his mind and eyesight. "I've always been afraid, you know?

"I've always known I didn't stand a chance, you know? I mean..." he looked down at his body, his protruding gut, his thin, untrained arms. "Yeah...anyway, it was probably just the wine taking over, we...did drink quite a bit, huh?" He failed to smile.

Laura inspected him intensely, unable completely to comprehend the inner struggle taking place in her head. Overwhelmed by her own thoughts, she leaped up on him, kissed him; Bob, at first, was caught completely by surprise, felt certain he was dreaming.

She kissed him passionately, her hands on his face, sucking on his lips; gradually, he reciprocated, his body alit. He helped her out of her t-shirt, gently touched her breasts; rubbed her nipples softly, hesitantly.

"No, no, please..." he protested in a whisper, when she began lifting his shirt.

"Don't worry, it's okay," she whispered in his ear, then bit his earlobe; he moaned and relaxed enough so she could remove his shirt.

Instinctively, he sucked his gut in, his face scarlet. She planted kisses on his neck, his chest. He caressed her back, running his fingers across her smooth skin; he gave her wet, sloppy kisses on the neck and shoulders.

"Stop worrying," she said in a soft, seductive voice, as she continued to move southwards, planting kisses along his stomach.

A tingling sensation overwhelmed him, when she unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, kissing his crotch. He still caressed her back and shoulders, ran his fingers through her long, blonde hair.

Laura, quite forcefully, yanked his jeans down to his ankles; she stared right up and into his eyes smilingly. He gave her a fearful smirk, suddenly overcme by the realization of the unknown. She kissed his erect penis over his boxers, her fingers running along his legs, causing the hair to stand in attention like soldiers before their commanding officer.

He drew deep breaths, averting his gaze, when Laura took his center in her mouth, softly sucking on the head; he was trying, in absolute despair, to think of something else. He recited Shelley in his head, then he went on to Li Po. Nothing worked; his balls were swollen and of a faint blue color, and his mind got further deep into the hazy mist of alcoholic orgasm.

"Wow," Laura exclaimed, unwillingly letting a giggle escape her mouth, when a long, thick stream of cum landed first in her mouth, then all over her face, as she pulled away. She hastily, and instinctively, wiped the cum off with her shirt.

"I'm so sorry, I..." Bob said, exhausted and flushed.

"It's okay," she said, her face scarlet. "It happens sometimes; nothing to worry about."

"No, it's not okay, it's..." he started, then he threw his head back and engaged in a staring contest with the ceiling.

"Bob," she crawled up on the couch, her hand resting on his chest, feeling his palpitating heart, "it's okay."

"God, I'm such a useless piece of..."

She pressed her finger on his lips, then turned his face by the chin, forcing him to look into her eyes.

"Laura, I don't know..." he began, then stopped at the lack of anything meaningful to say.

"Bob," she blew air in his ear, rubbing her calf against his flaccid cock, "it's not all over; nothing's over, until we give up."

"Laura, what do you..." She kissed him before he could finish the question; he tasted himself, but, he also sensed her willingness and passion.

She took his hand away from her breast, which he was fondling reverently, and guided it down south, inside of her shorts; his eyes instantly popped open, when his fingers first came into contact with the moist territory that had thitherto been completely unknown to him.

She smiled widely and squirmed, when one of his fingers slipped inside of her; "there you go," she whispered encouragingly in his ear, then sucked on his neck, while he slowly moved his finger up and down, as if calling someone over, trying to synchronize his movements with those of her body.

Laura cupped his hand, assisting him with the rhythm; then, gently, she guided his thumb on her clit, helping him with the circular, gentle movements; he smiled and kissed her, his other hand lingering a bare inch away from her ass-crack, caressing her lower back gently.

He bit her lower lip rather hard, when she grabbed and squeezed his balls; he stared into her eyes lustfully, as she stroked blood back to his center.

Quickly, and despite the alcohol, his organ grew turgid; Laura gave him a meaningful smile, whilst stroking, softening now the rhythm. He intensified the fingering; she rolled off of him and stared directly into his eyes, spreading her legs wide. She rubbed and squeezed her breasts, licking her lips slowly.

He leaned in for the kiss; at first, she accepted it, however, quickly she pushed his head downwards.

In spite of her moaning and panting, he could sense his kisses were not good enough; he tried hard to please her, but, all he could think of was how badly he was disappointing her. He focused on her breasts for a long time, kissing and sucking the erect nipples, working his tongue circularly around them.

It was Laura, who pushed him further down; he ran his lips across her flat stomach, slowly but steadily reaching for the pussy. As soon as he arrived and looked at it (for the first time in his life), he almost panicked; it was the alcohol that kept him chained, as well as the strong desire burning up his soul.

He kissed the clit, the lips; reluctantly, he let the tip of his tongue out of his mouth, experienced the first taste. It felt like nothing he had expected, yet, caught in the turmoil of the moment—and trapped by Laura's thighs that pressed his head up against her cunt—he allowed his tongue out of his mouth and into Laura's vagina.

His sole guide were the texts he had read on the Internet, during the countless nights spent browsing for porn and for "how-to" guides; he tried to spell the alphabet with his tongue on her clit, he flicked his tongue up and down inside the pussy; Laura's moans and squirms caused burning sensations in his own mind and body, and his cock throbbed.

Laura stared at the ceiling, eyes wide open; producing sounds meant to encourage him further. She toyed with her nipples, biting her lips down; in her mind she was somewhere else (or, put better, with someone else), yet, slowly the pleasure increased, he was improving, gradually, and finally she was able actually to enjoy the act.

Eventually, she pulled him up, her hands tenderly on his cheeks; she kissed him, while reaching down south. Her face illumined, when she felt his erection; Bob kissed her again, with an exuberant smile.

She jerked him off, in gentle, soft, slow strokes, and spread her legs even wider; by the cock she pulled him closer. Bob remained passive, perfectly conscious of what was going to happen and terror overwhelmed him. His cock pulsated.

In it went, and for a moment Bob was dead certain he'd ejaculate again; fireworks went off in his mind, he heard bells ringing. Laura's legs were wrapped around his waist, assisting him on the thrusts, controlling the rhythm.

She caressed his back gently, kissing him on the neck; slowly, Bob gained some control over his body and excited for having saved himself from a second embarrassment, he pounded Laura with more bravado, driving his cock balls deep inside of her.

Laura's moans in his ear increased his excitement; he kissed her on the lips passionately, still inside of her, still thrusting deep and slow. Gradually, intense pleasure overwhelmed Laura, too, who still controlled the pounding with her legs; "like this, yes," she whispered in his ear in a deep, low voice, then bit his earlobe and sucked on his neck.

"I'm not going to last much longer," he admitted in a whisper; she locked him with her legs inside of her.

"Don't worry, relax," she smiled, then they kissed, with Bob all the way inside of her, perfectly still.

His cock pulsated, his body twitched; she lightened the pressure on his back, but, he remained inside of her, horrified of moving. He kept kissing her, unwilling to stop, unwilling to change anything; wishing for nothing but to freeze-frame the moment, to make it last forever.

Nothing, though, lasts longer than a second; Laura ground her pussy against his crotch, suddenly clenching her inner muscles around his cock. It was more than Bob could handle; he erupted, the head of his cock expanding inside her and flooding her with streams of hot semen.

Laura moaned louder, finally spreading her legs wide and leaning backwards on the couch; Bob, enraptured, pulled out and sat next to her, panting in exhaustion and sporting a wide, absentminded smile.

"How was it?" He asked in fear, but, received no reply.

Laura simply took hold of his hand and planted a soft kiss on his cheek; then, she rushed to the bathroom to urinate. Bob wiped his cock clean with some paper towels and hurriedly got dressed.

"Are you leaving?" She raised her eyebrow, when she came back out to the living room stark naked.

"I thought..." he tried to come up with some intelligible words to utter.

"Why don't you sleep here? It's late," she sat back on the couch and swigged the remaining wine out of the bottle.

"Okay," he said hesitantly and sat next to her.

They shared the last wine, until they both fell asleep on the couch; Laura still naked, Bob fully dressed.

"Coffee?" She asked him in the morning and poured him a cup.

He sat at the small metal table, right across of her, and they both lit a cigarette simultaneously.

"You know," she said, her voice steady but low, "it was quite the fun night, huh?"

"Yeah," he said and immediately his face brightened up. "It was really great!"

"Good to know..." she sighed heavily. "Bob," she reached out across the table and sought his hand, "I hope you understand that...after last night, we can't..."

"No, I don't understand," he said, flabbergasted, even though he understood perfectly well; and his heart had been viciously stabbed.

"We've been friends for so long, and..." she paused, collected her thoughts, "I don't really see you this way...last night was just...what with the wine, the kiss, the talk we had...it just sort of happened, you know?"

"Laura," he protested, "I know I wasn't that good, but, I'll get better, I'll improve! I promise you, I..."

"Bob," she interjected, her voice sterner, "it's not that! You were quite good, I really enjoyed myself. However," she cleared her throat and stared dead into his eyes, discerning nothing but devastation, "I'm kind of going out with this guy...I didn't tell you about it, didn't want...anyway, he's really nice, you know?

"Plays for a big basketball team, might get called up for the national team...and, at any rate, I really do like him. And after last night, I can't...you know, be around you. Not after..."

"So, what was last night? An act of pity?"

"No, not at all!" She cried. "It was just...I don't know. Probably, just the wine that made emotions run high."

"Fucking fantastic," he laughed harshly. "I really thought you were my friend, Laura," he crushed his cigarette in the ashtray and leaped up. "I really thought we had something good...and, last night, I slept like a little baby, finally not tormented by cruel thoughts about loneliness and desperation."