I shouldn’t tell you. I know I shouldn’t talk about it. I know that the only reason we’ve managed to avoid stepping over the line is that we never come out and say it properly.
But I fucking want you.
I’ve wanted you since I met you at work four years ago. I was so intimidated by you at first, because you are stunning. Like, so fucking beautiful. Your body is perfect. I know you think you need to lose weight or whatever, but I think that’s bullshit. I look at your body, your ass, your curves, and my mouth waters.
And usually, I’m okay with just living in a place where I’m friends with someone I’m attracted to while knowing it won’t turn into anything else. I’ve done it before. But that’s when I didn’t know, or at least suspect, that they wanted me too...
But you’re married. If you weren’t, I think I would have made a move a long time ago. I would have leaned into one of the many, many moments when there has been a spark between us.
Not that it’s about him. He’s very sexy, too. But it’s about you, Jess. We’ve shared enough for me to suspect that under the right circumstances, you would kiss me. I think we both notice how when we hang out, we sit close enough to always be touching even when there’s plenty of space available. You’re the type of person whose energy is flirtatious by nature, and in my moments of doubt I wonder if that’s all this is. But as we’ve grown closer, I’ve become more and more confident that it’s not all in my head.
Still, I try to be careful. I try to be respectful. I don’t want to cause issues with your marriage, and I don’t know what kind of guy your husband is. I wish I did. I always wonder how he would feel. If I’ve learned anything from my brief time on Tinder, it’s that lots of men are willing to let their wives have a female partner. Is he that kind of guy?
What would he think if you went home and told him that something had happened between us? Would he be mad? Or would he want to know more? Would he want to hear about how you made me scream? Would he get hard just thinking about it? Would he tell you to invite me over?
I wish I could either know that it was okay to touch you, kiss you, fuck you the way I want to or know that it was time to give up on the daydreams.
Until then, I can’t stop thinking about what it would feel like to kiss you. There have been so many tipsy moments next to you on the couch when I felt so sure that we both wanted it. It would have been so easy to just slide my hand up your leg, press my lips softly against yours. But I also suspect that neither of us would have the willpower to stop. I know that if I did that, then we would make out, then we would get naked, then we would fuck. And that would change everything, in our friendship and in your marriage. It’s a bad idea. I know that. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you.
When you asked to come over, everything felt perfectly normal. We’d called each other for last-minute after-work hangouts dozens of times over the years. I owed you a birthday drink, so I had the vodka out already when you knocked on the door. I poured you a glass, on the rocks with lime, like usual.
“How was your birthday?” I asked. “Did you and Cameron do anything special?”
“It was great,” you replied. “He took me out to that new sushi place and then we had super hot sex after.”
“Oh yeah?” I could feel myself blushing a little. We didn’t normally get into the specifics of our sex lives. (Even though you’d been telling me you wanted all the details the next time I slept with someone.)
“Yeah. After he gave me my birthday gift, I was really turned on and he ended up fucking me in the kitchen.”
I finished mixing my drink and headed into the living room, hoping you couldn’t see the redness in my face.
“Well, that’s hot,” I said. I sat down on the couch, and you sat next to me, so close that our legs were pressing against each other.
“Yeah, it really was. Do you want to know what my birthday gift was?”
I wondered to myself if I did want to know. I assumed it was some new sex toy, and I wasn’t sure I could handle hearing much more detail and still keep myself under control. But I couldn’t come up with a safe excuse for why I didn’t want to know.
“Uh, sure,” I replied.
“He gave me a hall pass.” You looked at me expectantly. I had no idea how to reply. My stomach twisted in knots of jealousy at the thought of someone else getting to experience what I was so desperate to have.
“Oh, really? Wow, do you have a guy in mind yet?” I asked, trying to sound casual. I wondered if it was your boss. I had met him before and he was definitely sexy.
“Who said it was a guy?” you asked, licking your bottom lip.
“Oh, I just assumed…” I trailed off. You raised your eyebrows at me, playfully swatting my arm.
“What's this? Miss ‘People shouldn’t assume other people’s labels’? Miss ‘I hate when people assume that I’m straight when I’m with a guy and lesbian when I’m with a girl’ made an assumption about my sexuality?”
“Good point.” I laughed nervously. “So it’s a woman you want to use your hall pass for?”
“Cameron gave me specific terms, actually. It’s only for one woman. He knows there’s only one woman I’ve ever seriously considered sleeping with.”
I took a deep breath, my brain quickly doing a scan of any women I’d ever heard you mention. For a moment, I wondered if it could be me, but couldn’t let myself get excited at the thought.
“Wow… so who’s the lucky girl?” I asked, struggling to make eye contact.
You ran your finger down my bare arm and goosebumps immediately sprung up.
“You aren’t actually that dense, right Maddie?” you asked.
“I… what do you mean?” I bit my bottom lip nervously, my heart racing.
“It’s you. Obviously.”
My brain felt like it had been submerged underwater. I stuttered, trying to get my bearings.
“You want… he would… um… wow…”
You took my hand in yours and stroked it softly.
“Look at me, M,” you said in a whisper. “I want you. And I think you want me. I’ve never been curious about another woman before you, but when I’m with you all I can think about is touching you more, kissing you, making you feel good.” You paused and took a deep breath. “Am I reading this wrong?” you asked, doubt suddenly clouding your face.
“God, no,” I replied without thinking. “No, you’re not wrong. I feel it too, when we’re together. I’ve wanted you forever.”
“Good,” you said, leaning in, your lips almost brushing mine.
“Wait,” I said. “Wait just a second. I just… I need to process for a second, okay?”
Your eyebrows furrowed and you squeezed my hand tighter. “Sure.”
I looked away from you, trying to clear my head. “Are you really sure that Cam is okay with this?” I asked. “I don’t want to do anything that could mess up our friendship, or your marriage. I’m so worried that it will fuck something up.”
“Maddie, our friendship is solid. You’re always going to be one my best people. And as for Cam…” You smiled at me and let go of my hand, reaching for your purse instead. You pulled out your phone and tapped a couple of times before sitting it down on the coffee table. I heard it ringing. After two rings, I heard his voice.
“Hey, baby,” he said. “What’s going on? I thought you were going to Maddie’s tonight?”
“I’m here now,” you replied. “I just told her about your present.” You looked at me with a sexy grin.
“What did she think about it?” he asked. You let one hand drop to my knee and gave it a squeeze.
“She’s still thinking things over. But I thought it would be best if she heard directly from you that you’re okay with it. She doesn’t want to cause any issues in our marriage. Oh, you’re on speaker by the way.”
“Hey, M!” he said. “You doing okay with this?”
“Yeah, I’m good. My mind is blown, but in a good way.” I looked at you, letting my eyes trail up and down your body in a way I’d never allowed myself to do openly before. “She is so sexy,” I added.
“She really is,” he said. “I hope the two of you have fun.”
“You’re sure you’re okay with it?” I asked.
“100%,” he replied. You raised an eyebrow at me and I nodded.
“Okay, thanks, baby,” you said. “I’ll call you later on.”
He said goodbye and you put your phone away.
“So…” you said.
Letting all my doubts wash away, I reached for you, sliding one hand under your t-shirt to grab at your waist and pull you toward me. My lips were on yours before I even decided to kiss you. They were so soft, the kiss so tender. Your hands tangled in my hair, tugging gently and I moaned into your lips.
“God, that feels even better than I had imagined,” I said. You sat back, your hands tracing all over my body.
“So, you have fantasized about me?” you asked. I blushed. “Don’t be embarrassed. The only reason Cam knew what I wanted for my birthday is that I kept talking about how sexy you are. You know, I’ve been fantasizing about us, too.”
When you moved in and kissed my neck, I felt a flush of heat all over my body. “I think about you all the time,” I whispered.
“Tell me,” you said, sucking my collarbone.
“Most recently, I’ve been thinking about the last time you were over here and we watched the movie with that sexy scene and you kept inching closer and closer to me. I thought you were going to just sit in my lap. I kept trying to avoid looking at you because I was so worried you would be able to tell how badly I wanted you.”
“I could,” you said as your tongue dipped lower. “Keep going…” you urged.
“I’ve been imagining what would have happened if I had just pulled you onto my lap that night and kissed you. If I had pulled your shirt off to get a good look at the cleavage I had been sneaking peeks at all night. If I had slid my hand up your thigh, slipped my hand into your panties. Would you have been wet for me?” I asked.
“God, yes,” you hissed.
“Then, or now?”
“Both,” you replied.
“Prove it,” I said, looking you right in the eyes. I felt completely in my element now that I knew my suspicions had been correct.
You stood, unbuttoned and pulled down your skintight jeans. I couldn’t tear my eyes away. I wanted to take in every inch of you, to finally see what I had been fantasizing about for so long. You worked them over your perfect hips and then reached for my hand, guiding it into your black panties.
“Fuck,” I gasped, my fingers gliding through your wetness. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Jess. You want it that badly?”
You just nodded.
When I let my fingers slide over your clit, your knees buckled. I caught you, tugging you gently onto the couch. I lay you down, pulling your panties down and off as I went. You grabbed your shirt and angled it over your head, then reached around and unclasped your bra.
My eyes were glued to your chest as you tossed the bra away. My mouth watered at the sight of your full breasts and your hard nipples. I licked my lips.
“Jesus,” I said, dipping my head to take one of your gorgeous brown nipples into my mouth. You moaned, and my pussy flooded with a surge of wetness. I licked and gently nibbled one nipple while rolling the other between my fingers. Your hips thrust up off the couch, desperate for contact.
“Please, Maddie,” you whimpered.
“Please what?” I teased.
“Please touch me,” you begged.
“What if I don’t want to touch you?” I asked, pinching one nipple softly.
“Then you’re a liar,” you replied petulantly.
“No,” I said. “I mean, what if I want to taste you instead?” You let out a strained whimper and nodded as I pressed your legs open wider. I dropped soft kisses, starting at your knees and working my way closer and closer to your center.
I fell in love with the way you tasted last night, Jess. It’s so fucking good, I can’t stop thinking about how fucking good you taste.
I can’t help but wonder when I can taste it again. Or if I can taste it again, I guess. Because as sexy as last night was, as much as I loved making you cum on my tongue and feeling how perfectly your fingers filled me, we didn’t discuss before you left whether it was a one-night thing or if we’d get the chance to play again.
I certainly hope it’s the latter, because there is still so much I want to do to you. And I hope you do too.