Buddies

Jack and I met in a co-ed racquetball league about five years ago. I beat his ass every time we played. Racquetball is a small person’s game. If you present a small target and can move really quickly, it doesn’t matter how strong you are (although I do work out), you are good. I am 5’2” and barely weigh 100 lbs. I have a figure that is described as ‘boyish’. My tits aren’t big, 32 B cup, but I have a great ass. Jack is 6’3”, 225, with broad shoulders and a tight ass. He is big and strong, exactly not my type. It drove him nuts that I beat him all the time. He started inviting me to play matches outside the league. He just wanted to get good enough to beat me. If we played in the morning, loser bought breakfast; at night, loser bought beers. He fed me a lot and got me drunk a lot that first year. He finally got so he could actually beat me. Now we play pretty evenly. He usually introduces me as his racquetball buddy.

When we met, he was seeing Barb. She was his soul-mate, he told me. They were cast from the same mold. They were going to have babies. They would be the best parents and the happiest family in history. I heard this often. It was kind of disgusting. I went engagement ring shopping with him (gag!), but he was so picky he couldn’t settle on any one design. I hate to shop. That shows how much I like the guy, I shopped with him. That was the only thing stopping him from popping the question, the perfect ring.

One Sunday afternoon, I got a knock on the door. This is unusual for me. I have a girlfriend who visits often, but she has kids so I know when she is coming. I live along the river, near a highway, but it still feels remote. So, I feel free to dress—or not—as I please. Summer Sunday afternoons I clean the house. Boating comes later in the day. I work hard on my house when I do it. I work up a sweat, or I splash water on myself while doing the dishes, so I usually end up with no shirt on. When the knock came, I scrambled for a top. A tube top was on the dryer, so I popped it on and answered the door.

There was Jack, red-eyed and tear-stained.

“Mikie, I need you. My life has just gone in the toilet and you are the only person I can believe in.” He wrapped his big arms around me and began blubbering into my neck.

“Uh, Jack, what the hell has happened? Sit down, you’re crushing me.” He sat on the sofa next to me with his face in his hands.

“It’s Barb. I had to go by the office for some papers and was going to go to the gym. I skipped the gym and came straight home so I could be with Barb. She was in the shower with Gina. Mikie, she was fucking Gina! They had a dildo and Barb was licking her twat! Oh, God!” He began to sob again. “I heard noises coming from the bathroom, so I looked in. It sounded like someone was in pain, not ecastcy. She never made those sounds when I fucked her. Mikie, she was into it! I stormed out of the room just as they saw me. Barb followed me to our room in her robe. Do you know that she actually said that two people could take a shower together without having sex? They were fucking. She said that we didn’t have to break up. I just had to ‘be able to handle her having this relationship’. Fuck that. I don’t want to share her with that ugly bitch Gina. I really thought we had a life together, but I won’t live like this. I told her she had until tomorrow to get out with that bitch and all her shit. Mikie, I can’t go back there tonight. Can I crash on your couch?”

“Of course, you can stay. I’m so sorry. I know you thought she was going to be the mother of your children and your life partner. But you’re right to kick her out. Cheating is cheating whatever the gender. You deserve better.” I opened my arms, and the big lug fell into them. He tucked his head under my chin and rested his rough cheek on my chest. And he cried. He was so hurt. My heart went out to him, even though all his friends thought he was making a mistake with her. I stroked his hair as he sobbed. I kissed his forehead and whispered comforting sounds. He knew I didn’t like Barb and I hated that pock-marked, flannel shirt wearing, ugly dyke, Gina. Sh’d been sniffing around Barb for months. I knew it would be trouble.

“Now you know why I don’t like lesbians,” I said. Jack already knew my feelings about lesbians. Lipstick lesbians are one thing, but full-blown dykes are something else. Lipstick lesbians are women who are just curious. After all, 3 billion men can’t be wrong, women must be sexy. But full-blown dykes are conniving, manipulative people who screw up lives. Every once in a while they find one another, and that’s okay. But most dykes recruit straight women and screw them up for a long time. That’s what I think happened to Barb. But fuck her, I was worried about Jack. A guy could easily think that it was him who turned her off of men.

I tried to mumble sweet things that might make him feel better. Finally, I just hummed some tunes from my childhood, stroked his hair and rocked him. This guy didn’t deserve this.

As we rocked and I hummed, Jack began to rub my tummy beneath my tube top. I found it strangely erotic. I almost expected him to put his thumb in his mouth. Almost before I knew what I was doing, I rolled my tube top down, exposing my breasts.

“They say that the most comforting thing a person can do is suckle,” I whispered as I guided his mouth to my nipple. And suckle, he did. My nipples are very sensitive and he explored every nerve ending. My nipples got harder and longer than they have ever been before or since. The man can suck tit. It didn’t take long for me to have a little orgasm just from his sucking.

When he slid my jean shorts off and buried his face in my pussy, I realized that I might have created a monster. His tongue was all over my pussy lips, my clit and way up in me. I came again.

When he finally came up for air, I grabbed his face and said, “If life were fair, I would now suck your cock for a while. But life’s not fair. You, sir, have to fuck me right now and fuck me hard. This pussy takes no prisoners. ”That’s when he actually surprised me.

I had forgotten about that whole big guy, tiny girl thing. He stood in front of me as I sat on the sofa, legs spread wide from being licked, his dick standing tall and proud. He bent over and picked me up.

I mean he cupped one large hand under each ass cheek and said, “Hang on tight,” and picked me up bodily and impaled my pussy on his dick. The feeling was incredible! He just slammed my pussy up to his hilt. I’m sure I screamed. He leaned back against the door frame and began to bounce me up and down on his cock. I was beginning to make feral sounds. It was like he was jacking off, but he was using my pussy instead of his hand. It seemed I could feel his dick up to my naval on the inside. I came and I came.

And, finally, he came. He picked me up so that just the head of his dick was just inside my pussy, then slammed me down onto him as he exploded into me. His pulses went on and on. And I came again.

He carried me over to the sofa and I lay down on top of him. He was spent. Emotionally and physically, he was spent. I curled up on his chest. He was relaxed, but I was buzzin’. I needed more. Orgasms do that to me. I get energized. I can fuck more, or I can clean the house. Which I do tells you what kind of lover I think you are.

Jack was still semi-hard after his monster ejaculation, and I went down on him. I’m not that big on sucking dick, but I’ll happily do it after I have been fucked by it. I don’t know if it’s my own taste on the dick, or the fact that I know that I’ve already got mine.

I sucked him very well. I love to run my tongue under ridge at the edge of the head. Jack was totally hard within minutes. I made him lay on his back and told him that it was my turn. I was going to fuck him, and I was going to fuck him my way, at my pace and my time, but he would be totally satisfied when I finished.

I climbed on top of Jack and explored him as if he were a mountain, which he was to me. I smelled his chest and licked his elbows. I rubbed my pussy on him a lot. I rubbed my pussy on his nipples. I rubbed my pussy on his chin. On his knees. On his thighs, on his face. I used his toes to explore my pussy. Throughout, I had small orgasms which just drove me on.

Finally, I pinned his arms down and said, “I’m fuckin’ you now, and you better like it.” I spread my pussy lips and slowly slid down his cock, dragging my clit across the shaft as I went. Slowly, I eased my pussy up and down his dick. It kept getting harder and bigger. I thought he might explode, and not in the usual way. My knees were on either side of his waist to give me the most control. I leaned over so my breasts hung in front of him. I kissed him long and hard with my tongue mimicking the movements of my pussy. As I rode him, I whispered in his ear.

“I’m not Barb, and I can’t be what you wanted her to be. But I can be what you need right now.” And maybe what I needed. I needed dick more than I had realized.

Sometimes, when I’m on top, I get really aggressive. I’ve been known to bruise bones. We bruised one another that night. I just started rocketing up and down and slamming bones until we both came at the same time, yet again. (Okay, I come so often, he’d have to have really bad timing to miss me.)

We fell asleep in each others’ arms, fucked again at six in the morning, and slept until ten. Over coffee, it was nervously quiet.

“We have to talk,’ I said finally.

“Oh, no. The four most dreaded words in the annals of masculinity. When a woman utters those four words, it can only be bad. What, pray, do we have to talk about?”

“You male chauvinist bastard! See, that’s why I like to beat the fuck out of you at racquetball. You’re fucking arrogant. You think that, because I have a pussy and tits and hormones, I am going to get all mushy on you and want to talk about ‘feelings.’ Well, I do want to talk about feelings, your feelings, you fucking pig.”

“Chill out, Mikie! I was just razzing you. I’m glad you have a pussy and tits. What’s this all about?” He seemed interested at last.

“Look, “ I said, “this is important. I really like you. You are a great bud. We have fun playing racquetball, eating out, goofing off. You are one of my best friends. I don’t want to screw that up by you getting all dreamy eyed over me. I cannot be your replacement for Barb. I don’t want a ‘relationship’. I don’t want to be married with 2.5 children. I am not on the mommy track. I am not monogamous by nature. I like fucking different people. None of this points to a long-term, exclusive relationship. You’ve just been hurt really badly. I don’t want to hurt you all over again. If you think I will be your ‘soul-mate,’ you will be hurt.

The sex was to comfort you, and to let you know that you are a desirable man. Barb didn’t turn gay because of any inadequacy in you. I guess, subconsciously, I wanted to show you that. Well, and I was really horney, and I love to fuck. I have to admit that I have thought about fucking you for a long time. And you are a really good lover. I am pretty damned satisfied.

So, I’ve been thinking. I don’t want to ‘date’ you, and I don’t want to hurt you, but I would like to fuck you again, at least once in a while. How about if we were fuck buddies?”

“Fuck buddies? What the hell are you talking about, Mikie?” he asked.

“Okay, here’s my thoughts. We go right on like nothing happened. We keep playing ball once or twice a week with the attendant beers or breakfasts when we can. We keep going to a movie or a play once in a while. But every once in a while we have sex. You know, in just a recreational sort of way. Just like bicycling or boating. What do you think?”

“Let me get this straight. You don’t want me to buy you flowers? You don’t expect jewelry on special occasions? If I don’t call you for a week, you won’t freak out? I don’t have to pay every time we go out, we can go Dutch, just like now? You won’t start to tell me how to dress or how to decorate my apartment? And you will nonetheless fuck me periodically?” he asked.

“No, no, no, yes, no, yes. That’s about it. I woke up in the middle of the night and thought this all out. No jealousy. We are free to fuck anyone else we want to, with no concern. Just because we fuck someone else, doesn't mean that we won’t fuck each other again. But we can’t fuck if either of us is dating seriously. That’s cheating. If either of us finds someone special, we’ll keep on being just the same kind of friends we are now, just without fucking. Sound okay?” I asked.

“You are amazing. You mean that you are offering to be friends, have sex from time to time, and I am free to look for someone to settle down with?”

“Yeah, you know I don’t want any of that marriage shit, but I really like sex. Life would be so simple if I could just pick up the phone and say ‘Jack, how about dinner and a good, hard fuck?’ and not worry that some guy will go gaga over me. I just don’t have time for that dating shit, and I don’t want people in town to think that I’m a whore. But, if I don’t get dick at least a couple times a month, I am one mean bitch.

Besides, it’s not fair to you to monopolize your time and prevent you from finding your life partner, when I am not even in the running for that role. But you have a great cock and can fuck really well. I’d like to fuck you again.”

“Mikie, I got to say, I have always thought of you as just another guy. Okay, you have tits and a pussy, but you act like a guy. I never even fantasized about you. I mean, you watch football and cuss like a sailor. I’ve heard you belch and fart. Sometimes it is distracting when you are watching a car race and your guy gets the lead and your nipples get hard. You know, if you wore underwear I wouldn’t have to see that shit? Now I know that you are all woman, but you still act like a man. And you kind of fuck like a man.

But, yeah. I think I can do it. Recreational sex with you will be a lot like racquetball, as much a contest as anything. It sounds like fun. I promise I won’t get all dreamy over you. I don’t think I could think of you as a girlfriend anyway. You’re a friend who is a girl. Okay.”

“Deal,” I said. “So, want to fuck again, say here on the kitchen table?” And we did.

And that’s how it began. At first he called me too often and I had to tell him to cool it. Finally we have fallen into pattern. We have gone on like normal. And when we want to fuck we tell each other, and we fuck. I will say that we have held to our rules. We’ve each dated other people in the last five years. And we just quit fucking one another. When we have gone back, it has always been incredible. Fuck buddies, it’s great!