My Best Friend

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A close friend has a peculiar confession to make.
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javawarrior
javawarrior
182 Followers

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is my submission to the Summer Lovin' contest. Please like and share if you enjoy this one!

*

Friend,

You're not wrong about what you said, I really was being coy. I know I have your shoulder to cry on when I need it, and you expect it from me now. That's what's so hard. You know something is wrong, but I won't let you in. Not this time.

I'm not the girl you do those things to. I've told you some of it, and it gets weirder and weirder whenever I tell you about it. And you should know why. You probably think of me as a sister, who you take care of and look after. I don't want to lose that about you. You're such a good friend. In fact, I think of you as a brother, too, which is why I don't know if I should be telling you any of this.

But I can't tell you how much I need intimacy right now. I feel so alone that it makes me want to cry, and I don't even know what it would look like if this feeling went away. It's been so long for me, so painfully long, and I don't know what I'm going to do. I want to tell someone about it, but I don't know who. You're my best friend, and you know everything about me. Why shouldn't you know this about me, too?

Ever since I was little, I had trouble making friends. It's been even more challenging finding a lover. And I don't think I've ever found something that I would call real intimacy.

At this moment, I'm so starved for affection that I don't know anymore if that's the problem. Maybe it's me. Maybe there's no love in my heart when I stay up at night with my fingers inside me. I can't make myself come. I touch myself all over sometimes, and I imagine that I deserve the pleasure and excitement that other women have in movies. I'm jealous of those women, but not because they know what an eager man's tongue feels like down there, but because they don't seem to hate themselves.

You know on some level that I hate myself, but you don't know about the physical dimension of it. It's not body-image, it's something else. You could never know it. But you try, and you see me like no one else does. You've pulled me out of the depths before, and you do it by looking through my skin and into my soul, and you smile. You make me warm and alive like no one can.

I'm still being coy, even in this letter that you'll never read because I'm too weak. When I think about you, I lapse back into this mode of thinking where I cannot let on what is really going on inside this body. It's like a reflex. I'm so used to the absence of pleasure and of intimacy that I cannot speak about it, for fear of proof that I deserve neither.

But do you want to know the truth? The truth is that I dream of the day you slip your hand down my panties for the first time. That's all I want. I fantasize about so much between you and I, but that's the moment I desire most.

You've cared for me like no one else I know, and you are the only reason I keep going. When I dream of your hand sliding down for the first time, it is the only thing that has ever made me hot. When it's your hand, I know that I deserve to be happy. I can't explain it.

I imagine you rubbing my pussy for the first time and looking into my eyes. I can't explain the rush. It's not that I'm in love with you. It's not that at all. And yes, I think you're very sexy, but it's not that either.

It's you and only you that does this to me, though. I've tried thinking about others, and I always come back to the same broken tape, playing in my head endlessly. That is when it is physical, and I feel cheap, somehow. But you make me feel human, and ready to come. You get me ready to come alive.

I come alive sometimes when you are with me. I popped the top off of a coke one afternoon last summer, and stood in the kitchen with you, silent. You had just finished rebuilding the engine in the car your father left to you, and I came over to celebrate. We went swimming in your dad's pool, and spent the whole day together. But there was a moment when we were just silent. And I know you may think it's crazy, given how many times you've wiped tears from this sad girl's face, but it was the most intimate experience I've ever had.

You probably don't remember running a finger through the hair above my left ear. I'll never forget that it was my left ear because I lost hearing in the same ear the weekend earlier when you and I went swimming at the waterfall. I was wishing I could remove my bathing suit then as well, and just be naked with you under that waterfall. I was so hot then that I thought about excusing myself to try the grand experiment one more time.

Your finger on my cheek was electrifying. I turned to hide this from you, but closing my eyes just produced your image once more. I imagined you stepping forward to meet me, you in your swim trunks, and me in my bikini. You wrapped your arms around me from behind and held me close. You whispered that I was your best friend, and that the world is better because I'm in it. You made me feel welcome and cared for, and you made me desire happiness like never before.

In the silence while I imagined you close to me, I thought briefly about how weird it all was. It wasn't practical for us to be together, but I wanted that moment so badly with you. I wanted my best friend to know me more than ever in that moment. I wanted you to explore me, and God how I wanted you to.

You said nothing still, and untied the string on my top in one light tug. My heart skipped a beat while my top fell. In seconds, I would feel your gentle hands on my breasts, and I felt the warmth in my loins grow.

You slid your hands around me again and put them on my breasts. My heart raced while I took it in. Your fingers found my nipples, and I started to think about you as a close friend finding me as a woman for the first time. I felt liberated, with you touching me and knowing me in this way.

You whispered, "I want to know you," and then the moment came. My heart skipped again and I felt your hand slide into my panties for the first time.

With your fingers on my lips, I was happy for what felt like truly the first time ever. You touched me like a woman should be touched, and I knew you were doing it for me.

I felt yourself grow against me, and I was aware of your desire for me. I know it sounds silly, but it reminds me that I am your friend too. I thought about the rough times you had, and how I made you happy too. It was a stunning revelation I had while I was fantasizing about you in that kitchen.

I think often about the pleasure I could give you by being inside me. I think about how this act is like every other act that friends do for each other. It is all about making each other happy.

Your attention turned to a magazine, so I kept fantasizing about you. You turned a page, and I imagined you turned me around to face you. You inched closer, but you didn't kiss me. I wrapped my hands around you and you wrapped yours around my neck. You pulled me gently in and kissed me. The kiss seals it completely. You wanted to know me as a woman, and I wanted to let you.

Because of what you were doing to me, I untied a string and your trunks dropped. You looked at me again as if you were unaware of what I just did. I took your hard penis in my hand, excited to finally see you as a man. I smiled, and you smiled back.

I had a sudden impulse to pull my bikini bottom off, but I waited. I sensed you were about to do it. I knew you were about to do it. You put your hands on me again and slid them all over, and you took one of my nipples into your mouth. I wanted to feel your tongue play with it, and I enjoyed letting you play with the other while you did.

Your hands slid up and down my body while you did this until I could barely take it. Then in one quick motion, you pulled my bikini down. Your hands slid back up, slower this time, and you looked up at me with those same caring eyes you always have. They were the eyes that said, "Anything for you."

It was friendship, but it was sensual. It was the most amazing display of that kind of love for a friend, and that was what made you the center of my fantasy. That is why, with you inches from my pussy for the first time ever, I welcomed it. I wanted it. I wanted to let you show me how you cared for me, because I believed you. I never believe anyone, but I believed you.

You touched my lips for the first time with your tongue, and you did not stop. You held me while you tasted me, and you didn't say a single word. You gave me another one of those moments that only you can give me.

I watched you turn the pages of that forgotten magazine, oblivious of my overwhelming desire for you. You had no idea that in my head, you were about to make me come. You had no idea that you were the only one that could do it. I still believe that.

You did make me come, like you always make me come. You lifted me onto the counter after you did, and you began to fuck me. Like the cherry on top, this part was the best. It was just fun, and nothing short of bliss. It was not only happiness for me, but you as well. You always fuck me like it's the first time you've been with me.

There's no fantasy where you've been with me tons of times, and I never dream of having a life with you either. I know that sounds weird, but it's true.

The fantasy never ends the same way, though. Sometimes you come and I come again, other times I only come once, but I make you come. Sometimes I imagine long talks with you, and I learn things about you that you never would have shared with me before. You tell me all these things while our naked bodies embrace, and I go down on you again and make you come.

I wanted you so badly that I actually did excuse myself that time to finish the fantasy. You had no idea how goddam horny you made me.

I pushed the bathroom door shut with my body's weight and removed my bikini bottom completely. I was still fantasizing that you were inside me when I touched myself, and I let out a gasp right away. I imagined you were about to come, and with my own fingers I finally came for the first time in my life.

It weakened me enough to lower to a squat, but I kept my fingers moving. I have no idea how long the orgasm lasted. I've never had one like it since, and that's the truth.

You made me come for the first time that day, and you made me confident enough to start dating again. I gave it a good try, but there isn't a day that goes by when I don't think about being with you for that moment. You'll never know how much you meant to me, and how you were always more of a friend than you realized. Sometimes I imagine that you do realize it, but I don't ever want you to think more about it than that.

You made me feel like a woman that matters. You were the only one to show me what intimacy was, that day you touched my cheek.

Love,

A friend.

javawarrior
javawarrior
182 Followers
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3 Comments
StubbyoneStubbyonealmost 2 years ago

Wow ! Such a heartfelt confession & expression of unrequited love. Her intense feelings really came through. Wonderful writing & great editing. First of your stories I've read. Going to read more. An easy 5 😊😊😊😊😊

chytownchytownover 9 years ago
Thanks ***

For the read.

Rugrat60Rugrat60over 9 years ago
A heart felt story

Well written. Crafted well. But there's no real ending as you left the reader wondering about what happens next. So many what if questions remain. What if she never tells. What if she does. What if she does something rash. This reader is left hanging. However if that was your intent - Well Done.

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