More than Friends Ch. 01

"Hey! I was seeing Amber at the time!"

"That didn't stop you drooling over Lou!"

That was true enough, I had to admit. She stroked my cock a couple more times, and I was starting to feel like events were rushing away with me, and I had to get things back under control.

I stepped to the side and picked up my own pool cue again, and started chalking the tip.

"And if you're using the pool cue as a metaphor for something," she said, "I can show you a better technique!"

That made me chuckle, and broke the tension of the moment.

"So, back to the original question then," I said. "Are you saying that if I make your forfeit a sexual one as well, then that's okay?"

That got me another roll of the eyes.

"Well, let me see - given that when I win there's a 90% chance that I'll be screwing your brains out tonight, and that I've more-or-less just admitted that I've been lusting after you for a year, then, yes, damn it, of course it's alright!"

"And we'll still be friends, whatever else happens?"

And that one drew out the puppy dog eyes.

"Aww... is that all you're worried about?"

"Hell, no! I'm more worried about being tied to your bed! But yes, I don't want to think that just because we've suddenly turned a game of pool into confessions hour and we might be jumping into bed together, that it means we can't carry on being friends like before."

She came over and kissed me on the cheek. It was one of the sisterly kisses that I'd grown used to when we greeted or when one of us needed comfort, and oddly I felt that it helped, even in such a sexually charged situation.

"Mike, things aren't ever going to be the same," she said confidently, "not now that you know how much I've been wanting to get my hands on you. But that doesn't mean we can't be friends, even if this ends up being a wager that you want to scrub from your mind.

"So, stop shilly-shallying around and give me the fantasy you want me to fulfil for you!"

"Damn! Am I that transparent?"

"Yes!"

"Okay! Okay! Here's what I want."

She settled down on one of the loungers surrounding the pool table. I sat down facing her and looking directly into her eyes.

"When I win this frame, we go back to my room, and you slowly strip me down to my boxers. You then strip as well, and go down on your knees in front of me. You take my cock in your mouth, and give me a blowjob that lasts a full twenty minutes before I cum.

"How does that sound?" I asked, a little tentatively.

Her eyes hadn't flickered at all, but her grin had grown more broad as I went along.

"Is that all?" she asked. "You don't want me tied to your bed? Or to fuck me up the ass?"

I shook my head.

"Not for this. Do you want to negotiate anything?"

"Well, yes. I think, until we know how well this all turns out, we're going to want some privacy, so nobody's to know."

I nodded in agreement.

"And I'm not going to have you force me to take you down my throat - if you want the best blowjob I can give you, it's going to be one where I'm in control - so, and here's the crunch point, I'm going to want to tie your hands behind your back."

I raise my eyebrows.

"You will like it. I can promise you that."

I nodded again, and she looked down at her feet and hesitated before going on, as if she wasn't sure about her next point.

"And...just... I hope this isn't a deal breaker... but it's to be up to me whether you cum in my mouth or not, and whether I swallow." She looked up again. "It's just... sometimes..."

"Go on"

"Sometimes I'm not sure that I'll like it... and.. with someone new..."

I saved her the embarrassment of saying she might not like how my cum tasted.

"Hey, that's fine. Don't worry."

She gave me a look of relief that then was replaced with a mischievous glint that made me wonder what it was I'd agreed to that she was working on a plan for, but the look in her eye lasted just a fraction of a second before a nervousness appeared.

"And still friends afterwards?" she asked, almost as timidly as I'd asked the same question.

"Absolutely," I agreed. I reached out to take her hand and pulled her to her feet and into a hug.

"Come on," I said. "I'm sure you said it was me to break."

"That was just to try and distract you from setting my forfeit."

I grabbed my cue and smashed the pack open, but nothing fell.

"That sure I'd beat you once again, were you?" I asked with a grin.

Emma potted two yellows on her turn, which set the butterflies tingling in my stomach again.

"Not looking so cocky now, are you?" she asked as I strode around the table to get my angle on a red into the corner.

As I started to line it up, she came up behind me, and leant herself along my back and slipped a hand into my pocket.

"Then again, maybe 'cocky' is just the right word," she said, manoeuvring her hand around to stroke my cock again. "Go on, take your shot."

I drew the cue back, and just as I was about to strike forward she squeezed my cock, which I guess, had the desired effect - I shanked the shot completely and the white cannoned off the wrong ball and into the corner pocket.

"Two shots to me, I believe."

This was a game I was completely unfamiliar with - deadly serious but with the sexual overtone that constantly reminded me of the forfeit I'd agreed to, which made me so nervous.

Two more yellows went down, and I was looking like I was in trouble.

"I didn't realise you were planning to take this quite so seriously," I quipped as I stooped to take my next shot and felt Emma's fingers stroking the seam of my jeans that ran up my backside.

"Seriously?" she asked, though without stopping the movement of her fingers.

"Yeah. After all you said I didn't think you'd be so desperate to win so that you didn't have to go down on me!"

I potted a red.

"It's not about what I've promised if I lose," she said, removing her hand. "It's about getting what you've promised me when I win."

I potted two more red and things were much more even now.

"Just relax, will you?" she said. "You win whatever happens and I win whatever happens. There aren't any losers."

She potted three more yellows on her next break and was down to just the black to win.

"So you just want to get me naked?"

"Yeah - well that and see how much fun I can have playing with your body. How's that stiffy coming along?"

She walked over and stroked the full length of it two or three times.

"I'd say it's coming along pretty well," I responded. "I'm looking forward to having your lips around it for twenty full minutes."

She looked at the table, then back at the bulge in my jeans that she was manipulating.

"Really? I don't think you're going to last twenty minutes, the way it feels right now, Mike. Besides you're quite a way from winning."

The reds were nicely set up though, and soon we were down to a black ball game.

"I've always had confidence in my cue-work," I said with a wiggle of the eyebrows for comic effect.

Emma laughed.

"Is that so?" she asked as she leaned against me while I lined my shot up. "That doesn't look like an easy shot."

She slid her hand back into my pocket.

"Especially not if I'm distracting you," she added. "Maybe I could keep you turned on like this for hours without having you cum at all," she whispered in my ear as she slowly pulled my foreskin down. I hit the cue ball hard.

And I sliced the shot.

We stayed there in silence for what seemed like ages as the ball ricocheted around the table. Emma bit down gently on the side of my ear and whispered "oh dear", slowly and softly.

My cock, still in Emma's grasp, softened abruptly, then hardened again, as my heart rate hammered like a bass drum.

The cue ball took three diagonal traverses across the table before actually, miraculously, hitting the black.

"No way!" Emma whispered in my ear.

"Oh yes!" I whispered back as the black had just enough momentum to drop, dead weight into the side pocket

_+_+_

I stood, and turned to face Emma.

"Damn!" she said with a pout. "I was sure I had you there."

I think I'd seen her more upset when she'd lost a bet that would have just had the loser serve dinner to the winner.

"No losers, remember," she said. "Come on."

We returned the cues and the cue ball to the barman, who gave Emma a knowing smirk as we left. Whether he'd overheard some or all of our conversation, I could only guess at; maybe he just assumed we were off somewhere to shag. At that moment I just didn't care. In fact my heart was beating about as fast as I could ever recall.

The ten minute walk back the house disappeared in a flash. Neither of us had said anything since leaving the union building. With the house otherwise empty, we went straight up to my bedroom.

We stood there in silence for a moment, just staring at each other.

"You don't have to do this, if you don't want to," I told her, though inside I could hear something going 'you idiot, what did you say that for - you're about to get blown and you're turning it down?'.

She looked at me askance.

"Firstly, you should well know by now that I don't welsh on a bet. Of any type. And there's no way I would've let you wriggle out of your forfeit if I'd won, so shut up, and enjoy it."

She stepped closer and whispered into my ear.

"Secondly, weren't you listening earlier? I've wanted to get your kit off for months, so remember, both winners here.

"Besides... well, you'll see.

"Now, where are we doing this?"

I turned around and pulled my desk chair out and placed it in the middle of the floor. Then I reached over to my bed and pulled a thick pillow off and placed it on the floor in front of the chair.

"How about there?"

"That's just fine," she said. "And thank you for the pillow.

"Now, I believe I have work to do, so sit, relax and enjoy, and remember: whatever else, we're still friends afterwards."

I sat.

She stood behind me to start with. My sweater was the first thing to go, casually stripped off me with little thought, though Emma remembered what she'd promised and did run her fingers along my exposed forearms.

"Goosebumps..." she whispered into my ear. "Already getting excited are you?"

She didn't wait for a reply, but deftly undid the two buttons on my polo shirt, then came round to face me and straddled my lap.

"Well, somebody's pleased to see me," she whispered as she ground gently against my cock, which had wilted during the walk home.

"So, are my fingers cold?" she asked, as she ran them up my bare sides as she lifted my shirt.

They were. Very cold. And I wriggled underneath her touch as she tickled all over my stomach, sides and back with her freezing hands.

"God, Emma!" I growled as I tried to writhe away from her teasing touch, with little effect other than to grind my crotch harder against her, as my hands sought out her hips.

"Ah! Ah! Ah!" she said, fighting my hands away and standing up.

"I think now would be the best time to tie your hands," she decided. "Before you start to get too excited, eh? What can I use?

I thought quickly.

"There's ties hanging in the wardrobe, but if you're going to tie tightly then I'd rather you didn't damage them. How about my dressing gown belt?"

"That'll do nicely."

She grabbed my towelling dressing gown and pulled the belt out through its loops.

"Perfect. Nice and long, too," she said with a leer. "Hands behind your back, and behind the chair," she instructed.

I did what she told me, and as she wrapped the belt around my wrists and tied it tightly, she giggled slightly.

"See, this is the moment of no return," she said. "Now try escaping."

I pulled and tugged at the cord, but to no avail, so assumed she was satisfied with the knot, but she pulled down a little harder on the end of the belt and tied it around one of the rungs at the bottom the chair, so I was a bit more tightly pulled back than I had anticipated, though not uncomfortably so.

By now my raging erection was leaking pre-cum something rotten, and Emma spotted it straight away.

"You really are enjoying this," she said. "I told you that you would. See, you're seeping through onto your jeans already!"

With the last few words she rubbed the evidence and I felt my cock twitch again.

"Nothing to be embarrassed about," she insisted, as she sat at my feet and neatly removed my socks. "I'm getting quite moist just at the thought of it.

"Just your jeans now, then we can get down to the real action."

She undid my belt and slowly slid it through its loops, folded it, then slapped it against her hand.

"Mmm. Shame you won," she said. "I might have enjoyed stinging your butt with a few whacks of this nice belt."

I winced slightly,, but that wasn't the reaction she noticed.

"See, the though of that turns you on, too, doesn't it?"

I tried to deny it, but she wasn't having any of that. Instead she moved on to my zipper, pulling it down one notch at a time, so that every movement went through my cock.

"And lift your hips," she said.

I obeyed unthinkingly as she pulled my jeans down and off my feet. I wasn't sure whether I was glad they weren't the tightest pair I owned, but as her fingers trailed back up the insides of my calves and then my thighs, to the bottom of my boxers, most rational thought disappeared.

"Now, you said to strip you down to your boxers, but I don't think you meant for me to give you a blowjob through them..."

"No, no," I mumbled.

"Still... I could at least give that a try first."

She knelt on the pillow and leaned forward into my lap, bracing herself against the chair arms. I had my eyes closed, but I felt her give a long slow lick to my cock through my boxer shorts, and then back down again before she stopped.

"No, you're right, that doesn't seem to work very well," she said conversationally. "Lets get that cock out."

She gently pulled the fly on my boxers aside and my erection sprung out with no further invitation. She licked up to the head once more, and then suddenly stood up, and I opened my eyes in surprise.

"What?"

"Well I haven't finished the prelims yet, Mike, have I? She asked.

She straddled my knees, just far enough away that my cock wouldn't touch her, and I strained slightly at my bonds.

She pulled her jumper off over her head, and slowly started unbuttoning her blouse.

"Not seen my tits, have you Mike?" she said, teasingly, "well, not in anything less than a training top."

The gentle swell of the inside of her breasts came into view, and I realised that she wasn't wearing a bra; in fact, when I thought back, it occurred to me that she genuinely didn't often wear a bra, and this was more titillating than anything I'd seen before. It reminded me of when she'd had me go commando for a day, and now knew that she knew what it felt like. Right now, as she unveiled her bare stomach with the last few buttons, flat and muscled from her gym work, even that was turning me on, though I'd seen it often enough before, in the gym or the swimming pool.

"They aren't very big, Mike. What do you think?" she asked as she slid the sleeves off and sat there on my knees, leaning back.

I wouldn't say I was thinking of very much at all. They were probably only an A-Cup or a small B, with hard brown nipples that looked delicious.

"Oh God, Emma," I gasped out. "May I...?"

She smiled seductively. "Oh no, Mike. That wasn't in the wager. I was to strip, but you never said anything about sucking on my breasts or biting my nipples." She stood slightly and leaned forward so that her breasts were right in front of my face, but just out of reach, with my hands tied behind me to the chair.

"I'm glad you like them though. Maybe if you'd let me win the game you might have been asked to get your lips on them, eh?

"But still... I'm not finished yet, am I?"

She stood up fully and stepped back slightly. She put her hands to her waist and undid a press stud and a button on the front of her khaki trousers, then lowered the zip, revealing a pair of pink panties that were, as she had suggested, more than damp in the front already.

"See what you do to me, Mike," she said, and slid her fingers around in the wetness at her front as she shucked off the trousers. "You've not even touched me and I'm wet for you."

My eyes were riveted to her fingers playing around at the front of her panties, and I'm sure she could tell. She moved forward again and offered a finger to me.

"Want a taste?"

I licked gratefully, then sucked at the proffered finger, despite knowing it was all part of the tease, and I was just moving down whatever tracks she'd laid out for me. She tasted slightly spicy and warm, but it was a scent and taste I felt I already knew, having shared a house and spent time in her bedroom.

As I released her finger from my mouth, she bent down and slid her panties off, then with a giggle that made me nervous, lifted my feet pulled them up my own legs, until they stretched over the top of my boxers and over my cock, and I could feel the dampness of them when they pressed against my balls.

The material was stretched pretty much to breaking point, and when Emma ran a finger up and down my cock, I felt and heard a rip. She didn't stop though, and soon my pre-cum was soaking her panties as well.

"So, we have a few stories we can tell, after today, don't we, Mike?" she asked rhetorically. "I can now say that I've had my hands in your pants, without having to refer to the laundry wager. You can legitimately say that you've "gotten into my pants", even if it does look like it's a bit of a squeeze, and you can say that you ripped my knickers apart with your cock."

We both laughed, knowing that we weren't going to be telling anyone any stories at all, though I was still as nervous as hell, and the action Emma was wreaking on my cock was driving me crazy.

"But, it's time for the main event," she said, as she slid her pants down again. "I'll keep these as a memento, I think. Now, quiet, and enjoy. Your twenty minutes starts now"

She dipped her head gently down onto my cock and started a gentle licking, all around the crown, then slowly pulled my foreskin back and sent her licks slightly lower. Once she'd eventually pulled it all the way back, she slid her lips down my shaft as far as she could go, then used her tongue to lick all around me as she came back up again. It was all I could do not to cum right there, as she'd predicted, but somehow I held out, and she'd use her lips to pull my foreskin slowly back up again, then start another cycle.

Her hands kept busy as well. Caressing and tickling my balls, the inside of my thighs and occasionally drifting underneath me to threaten, but not deliver a finger to my anus. When she didn't have both of her hands on me, I was vaguely conscious that she was diddling herself as well, and her smell rose to greet me and added another intoxicating element to the mixture.

I came to a boil three, maybe four times, but each time, she skilfully backed me off again, despite my moans. I'm sure I begged her to finish me off a couple of times, but I can't fully recall.

A fifth time she brought me to the edge. I was sure that the time was up and the agony and ecstasy was over, and for some reason, somehow, I held back one more time as the crescendo reached its peak. Did I want it to continue, to not end? No, I wouldn't have been begging to cum if I did, but she continued to draw me towards that brink, and then, abruptly, she stopped.

I could have sent myself over at that point, but I was holding back - this wasn't how I wanted it to end. I wanted to feel her lips and tongue on me, forcing me to ejaculate.