Sweats

They arrived around four thirty, bringing big smiles and welcome six-packs. Jenny and William, Two of my best friends who were lucky enough to find, in each other, soul-mates. They were the last to arrive and so our party could begin. I manned the foreman grill, it being my house, while everyone else settled in around the TV to watch the game. No less than half an hour in, while the burgers were cooking nicely, Jenny got up and joined me in the kitchen. "Can I talk to you about something, Phil?" She asked. I nodded and she grabbed a soda from the fridge and scooted up onto the counter, leaning her shoulders back and crossing her legs in the same way she always did when we were talking serious.

Jenny and I had always been able to talk about anything. We were very close, as close as two friends can get without crossing a line that neither of us thought we should cross. We just meant too much to each other. I had met Jenny while attending school, she was there for an education degree and I was there for psychology. We spent nearly every day together during those three years, and we developed a bond that lasts to this day. We even helped each other through a mid-term crisis which ended in us switching majors. She became a psychologist and I became a teacher. Three years after graduation and we were still the best of friends.

I mentioned that line that we thought we shouldn't cross. That is not to say I didn't think about it. I did, more than I probably should have. She was always the kind of person who thought she was the most hideous thing on earth, no matter how wrong she was. I had always been taken with her beauty, and tonight was no exception. Jenny stands a buxom 5'5" with a double D cup size and an hourglass figure. She has shoulder length, dark blonde (almost brown) hair that usually stayed straight unless it was really humid. She has the most expressive dark green eyes, and she always seems to be able to see directly into my thoughts. She is by no means perfect, age and time are just beginning to get the better of her, but she carries her Thirty-One years well, and the maturity makes her all the more desirable. She would never have been called a supermodel, but her genuine warmth transforms her from merely good-looking to radiant.

She was wearing a white tank-top under a buttoned up white men's dress shirt, untucked, and a pair of worn-looking white sweatpants with a understated panty line and just a hint of a camel-toe. I always thought she looked her best when she wasn't trying, it let her personality shine through more. She always seemed like her personality was muffled whenever she gussied herself up. Not that she couldn't look absolutely stunning in an evening gown, I just preferred her when she was herself, not the beauty she thinks she has to be. She was barefoot, preferring almost never to wear shoes in the comfort of her own home (and I guess she felt just as comfortable in mine.)

It took her a moment to find her voice, which she kept low so the others in the next room couldn't hear, and she began her story as I was flipping the patties and adding the brats to the grill. "It's William." she blurted. "I love him dearly, and I wouldn't trade him for the world, but that man doesn't know what it is I need." She paused, looking at me with a worried expression, waiting for me to tell her to stop being silly, no doubt. I just cocked one eyebrow and let the silence trail on. Eventually she began again. "When William and I make love, it's just that, Making Love. And it's wonderful! His skills in the bedroom are simply amazing. It's just that he doesn't see the need to make love to me more than once or twice a month. And when I try to tell him I need more, he just laughs it off and tells me to stop being childish. I know he thinks I'm not serious, but I am. You know me, I was used to getting it three or four times a week, and now its dropped to once every two weeks! If I'm lucky!" Her eyes were beginning to tear up at this point, so I slid around the grill and stood next to her, putting my arm around her shoulder, and told her it was OK. "I'm even cheating tonight," She gestures down at her sweats. "I know these sweats turn him on, so I wore them, with one of his shirts, and I'm getting nothing from him. Not even a second glance." I let her talk her problem out, and I told her to try again to talk it out with her new husband (while keeping tight lipped about what I really wanted to say)

To be honest, the rest of the night was kind of a blur to me, we ate and laughed and watched the game, and after dinner we sat around the kitchen table to play cards and talk.. We all lost track of time, and before we knew it, it was almost Two A.M. Everyone decided to leave and try to make it home before it got too late. Everyone except Jenny and William, who had both had a couple of drinks. Better safe than sorry, my mom always told me, so I offered the two of them the queen sized bed that I used to share with my ex-fiance Michelle, before she walked out on me three months ago, and I settled into the back office to sleep on the futon. All I could think about was Jenny in those sweats, and I had a hard time falling asleep, knowing how unsatisfied she was right down the hall. I finally convinced my over-active imagination to settle down by firmly telling myself that Jenny and I were friends, nothing more, and I held her in too high a regard to try and impose something else on her when she is this fragile. I drifted off around Three-Thirty, and dreamed of little else except Jenny and those sweats, languishing back on my counter like that. Barely two hours had passed when I woke with a start to the creak of the floorboards in the hall. Assuming that someone was using the restroom, I chided myself on the slight, irrational, hope that sprang unbidden to my heart. Imagine my surprise when the office door quietly opened and Jenny, resplendent in her sweats and tank-top, crept in.

"You awake?" She whispered.

"Yeah." I croaked, even my equally quiet whisper sounding horse as my voice caught in my throat. I could hear William sawing logs down the hall, and I knew Jenny had crept out so as not to wake him.

"Look, Phil." She whispered, coming into the office and quietly shutting the door behind her. "I don't want you to say anything. I'm not drunk, and I'm not crazy. I just figured that we had always been able to help each other through anything, and we both need help right now." She sat on the edge of the futon and looked at me, her face showing no signs of this being a joke.

Her body was even more stunning than I had imagined it would be, outlined as it was by the light from the computer screen behind her. I could tell she wasn't wearing a bra, mostly because her nipples were as hard as diamonds and poking through her top in a most pleasing way. I rightly kept my mouth shut and let her continue.

She pulled the sheet off the futon with one hand while holding me down with the other, revealing me in nothing more than a pair of boxers, even as she continued speaking. "Don't think I don't notice the way you look at me, ogling me whenever you think I'm not looking. And I'm flattered, really." She began to lean over me at this point, positioning herself on top of me, and when she swung her leg over my hips, I knew she could feel my growing erection. She smiled and leaned down, our faces almost touching. "But, what I notice even more than the staring:" she breathed. Her warm breath sending a tingle through my lips. "Is your respect. You know that I am happy with us as we are, so you don't chase me, no matter how much you want to." I started to reply but she silenced me by kissing me full on the mouth.

My body responded without me thinking, my arms encircling her and pulling her close, even as my lips moved with hers and our tongues found each others. I had never experienced a more passionate kiss, nor had I ever experienced one so sweet. Her lips on mine were a symphony of hunger and passion, without losing any of the soft tenderness that makes a kiss one worth remembering forever. When she finally came up for air (several long, glorious, seconds later) she gave me that playful smile of hers and whispered: "I thought I told you not to speak? Please, don't make me do that again... Until I'm ready."

She snuggled deeper into my arms and laid her head on my chest, no doubt listening to my racing heartbeat. Her hair smelled of lavender and red wine, I took in her scent eagerly as she lay there, and my erection was in full swing by this point. She wiggled her hips just enough to let me know without words that she could sense my eagerness, and I caught a trace of warmth from her womanhood, even through the sweats and our respective unmentionables. I wasn't fool enough to let go.

After a moment she continued. "Phil, you know what I am going through, and I know you have been lonely ever since Michelle left. And I know that you will understand that this has to be kept quiet. I am still in love with William, and I have no plans to change that, or OUR relationship. But I also know that you want me. And, if you couldn't tell, I want you too." To make her point she wriggled her hips again, just enough to let me catch that moment of warmth on my erect manhood. "So, what I am offering is a trade. We each get what we want, I can go back to William without the stress, and you get to finally make good on all those promises you have been making with your eyes whenever you thought I wasn't looking." She lifter her head and pulled back enough to look me in the eyes, all without breaking my hold around her. "Do we have a deal? If you say no, I will understand, and we will never have to speak of this again. You can speak now."

She looked at me, uncertainty in her eyes. And I gazed back into hers, telling her with my eyes all the things I wanted to say with my voice but couldn't, as she waited for my response. When I finally did respond it was still without words, I leaned forward and up and kissed her with all the passion that she had so effectively silenced me with a moment ago. The kiss went on for even longer this time, and when we finally did pull apart she looked at me, breathless, and said: "I... I wasn't ready!" So I kissed her again.

This time, I loosened my hands so I could run them down the smooth fabric of her tank top and slip my fingertips underneath the seam. As I pulled the garment up, she got the idea and broke the kiss so she could sit up and pull the white shirt off over her head in one smooth motion. And she was before me, perfect breasts rising and falling in time with her panting breaths. I slid one hand around her waist and pulled her down again, bringing her chest to my mouth. With my other hand, I cupped her right breast, taking the rock hard nipple into my mouth, kissing and sucking in ways that made her shudder with anticipation. As I switched breasts, my hand at her waist got two fingers under the elastic of those wonderful sweats and began gently tugging them down. She expertly lifted her body on her hands and tiptoes, arching her back so I could have an easier time of sliding her sweats off without taking my mouth from her breasts. Within seconds she was straddling me, completely nude.

Reluctantly, she pulled away from my mouth and again sat up. She began sliding her hands down my chest, and reached my boxers, which she unbuttoned with one easy movement, freeing my quivering penis. She repositioned herself and leaned down again to kiss me, entwining her hands with mine and timing her shift downward so her tongue would enter my mouth just as my manhood entered her. There was no resistance, she was well moistened by that point. I shuddered as my penis slid into the warmth of her waiting vagina. When I had sunk in to the hilt, she stopped moving her hips to just hold there, never breaking the kiss. Loving every second of my filling her just as I was loving every second of her enveloping me. After several long moments of almost pure bliss, she broke the kiss and pulled back to again look into my eyes. Her every movement sending shivers down my spine as I could feel her vaginal muscles contracting and expanding.

I met her gaze with my own, pouring all the love and longing I felt into my eyes, and an unspoken thought was shared between us: We fit together, perfectly. Without breaking eye contact, she began to move, swaying her hips forward and backward ever so slightly, causing me to begin making thrusting motions in time with her movements. It wasn't long before her movements increased in speed and urgency, and I began pulling out and thrusting back in harder and faster. She opened her mouth to moan or scream and I silenced her with another kiss, no need to wake anyone. The kiss grew more passionate and she began taking playful nips and bites at my lips and tongue. I began thrusting even harder, my powerful hips lifting her off the mattress with each thrust so she would come down on me that much harder. I could feel my testicles slapping against her firm ass as I buried myself in her, over and over again.

She began shaking, ever so slightly, starting in her toes and spreading upwards throughout her entire body and she closed her eyes in satisfaction, biting her lower lip to keep from screaming as her first orgasm took her. I was reveling in every sensation. As her hair tickled my shoulders and her breasts pushed against my chest. As her fingers tightened around mine and loosened again, rhythmically in time to my thrusts. As her knees tightened, squeezing my sides like they were holding on for dear life as she came to her first orgasm. As her vaginal muscles tightened over and over again around my manhood while she let loose even more warm juices while she came. I slowed to a halt, all the way inside her, holding there while she rode out her orgasm. And when it was over, she looked at me with delight, turning to surprise as I began thrusting again.

This time was slow on her part, she was basking in the afterglow and enjoying the sensation of me being inside her all over again. That's when I slipped my hands out of hers and around her again, running my fingertips from her neck to the small of her back and back again, she began to quiver again under my touch and her hips began to move more forcefully in concert with mine. I slowly built up to my previous intensity and began lifting her from the mattress again. I was getting close, and I wanted to savor every millisecond of this while I reached climax. As I got closer, I could feel the shuddering starting at her toes again. I gently but forcefully dug my nails into her back, even as she arched backwards. I slammed into her one last time and she began to shake as I blew my essence deep within her womanhood. The force of my orgasm enough to send her over the edge into her second one. I didn't even try to stop the moan escaping my lips, because it timed perfectly with hers.

When it was over, and we had both ridden the waves of orgasm to a wonderful climax, we again locked eyes, grinning from ear to ear. We knew something wonderful had just happened, and we also knew it would remain private, because we could both clearly still hear William snoring away down the hall. We fell asleep, still entwined, and lay there for several hours until the light of dawn roused us enough to go take showers and return to our own beds. As I lay back, once again alone, I was finally able to close my eyes to a peaceful sleep.

We have all remained the closest of friends, and no mention has passed in public about that fateful, wonderful night. But Jenny and I still remember it. We have been going on as friends (albeit with an exciting new twist) as though nothing happened. William is still as passionless as ever. Jenny still loves him dearly. I have remained single, more by choice than anything else, though I have no wish to end Jenny and Williams marriage. And, when the craving gets to be too much for her, she will wear those wonderful white sweats when she and William come over. When that happens, I am always the most gracious of hosts, allowing them to share my bed while I sleep in the back. And always, late that night, Jenny and I discover anew the passion that makes the whole world go away.