The Best Friends Anthology (A New City Story Book 5)

by Stefanie Simpson

  “What is it?”

  “I don’t know what I’m doing. You should go.” I hated my shaky voice.

  “Look at me.”

  I shook my head, burning tears filled my eyes, and I scrunched them.

  “Amelia.” He spoke so softly my shoulders sagged. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Doesn’t matter now.”

  “It does. It matters. You know, that first night, changed something in me. It was a shift. I didn’t see it. I’ve been stuck for so long.” His voice broke and strained. “But then you and your lovely tits and wonder vagina came along and made me laugh.”

  I laugh-sobbed and wiped the tears away.

  “I don’t know what this is. I thought exactly what I said, it’d be something we both needed to fill…”

  “The void.”

  “Yes.”

  The quiet hung between us, and I kept wiping my face. “If we both feel this, why end it?”

  “I was afraid.”

  I turned at that.

  “It’s easier to love someone you can’t be with because it means I didn’t have to move on. I knew making you breakfast that I cared deeply for you already and panicked. The quote request came in for the building work, and I booked the job, it was a sign, right? Had to try again because I can’t stop thinking about you. About what it might be.” He ran his tongue over his lip as he looked up.

  “I’m really tired, it’s been a hell of a day.”

  He took a deep breath, blinking. “Okay.” He pulled his shirt on and did his fly up. “I’ll leave you alone.”

  A second of pure grief passed over his face before he gave me a soft, reassuring smile. I didn’t want to let him go.

  “Stay. I really am tired but eat with me.”

  Will nodded, biting the inside of his cheek, and fighting that smile. “I’d like that.”

  We cooked.

  He kept glancing at me. “So, how have you been?”

  “Wine.” I nodded at the fridge, and he saw to it. I sautéed some mushrooms and onions and told him about the past few months.

  “You’re a good mother. Did you ever want more?”

  “No, I was sterilised afterwards. I never told him.”

  “Wow.”

  “Do you? Want them, I mean.”

  He sipped his wine. “No.”

  “Really?”

  “Never appealed.” That felt like hope. If we wanted the same things, we might be okay, maybe.

  I served the quick pasta dish and scattered cheese on the top.

  He made a noise as he tucked in. “This is lovely.”

  I grinned and ate.

  We’d drank the bottle and chatted by the open window, curtains fluttering in the early evening light.

  I curled up, holding my ankles, and he nestled close, running his fingers through my hair.

  “I should go.”

  “You’ve had three glasses.”

  “Oh, have I.” He smirked.

  I leant in and kissed him softly. Slow press of lips, a light stroke of tongue and he pressed me closer, kissing deeper.

  Will explored my mouth, and I let him, easy and relaxed. His eyes sparkled when he leant back.

  “Come to bed.”

  We slipped into bed but didn’t have sex, it wasn’t about that need. It was about us, the simply being near each other. Like that first night, to exist in his space felt right. I knew I belonged there and was safe.

  It was a lot to think about. For both of us.

  SCREWHEAD

  The week was hot, and I spoke with Will regularly. He also wanted a weekend together where we’d really play for the first time. I was nervous. We spoke at length about it, wants, needs, risks, our sexual health, safety and consent.

  It was a lot to take in.

  The plan was, I’d go over Saturday, and we’d have brunch and go from there. I squared everything away for work, and he was doing the same. I drove over with a weekend bag, and my stomach in my mouth.

  “Hey.” He opened the door before I got out of the car.

  Bags of sand and pallets of bricks were stacked down the side of the house, but I saw progress. New windows and doors outside and the lounge was finished, but empty, other than a couch and TV.

  “It’s getting there,” he said as I looked around.

  I smiled and turned to him, but we just looked at each other until I laughed.

  “You’re so beautiful.”

  My cheeks warmed, and the cat sauntered in. It made a noise, almost like a baby’s scream, and I stepped back.

  “He wants more breakfast.” Will faced the clog of fur and pointed. “No. You’ve eaten.”

  It screamed again.

  Will looked at me. “What?”

  “You’re adorable.”

  He super-grinned, looking smug and pulled me in for a kiss. “You’re delightful. Come on.” He rested his forehead against mine for a moment, and we ate.

  Will relaxed me, and at ease, we took everything out to the back garden. The patio was nice, and garden surprisingly pretty.

  He set the tray out on the glass table, and we sat.

  “The garden only needed weeding. I had to put a new fence in, but that’s it. I’m pretty much done with the house. Just the garage to rebuild, and I’m done.”

  “You need furniture.”

  “Decorating isn’t my strong suit.”

  “I could help you. If you want.” I poured the coffee.

  “I’d like that. Thank you.” He could barely contain his smile.

  It was infectious. The morning was lovely, and we sat out in the pleasant summer day, tempered by a light breeze, and talked of everything and nothing.

  Eventually, we were quiet and easy in each other’s company. I felt excited and at peace as we watched blue tits visit the birdbath and feeder, and the soft chirps of busy birds filled the air.

  “I have something to show you.”

  I took a deep relaxed breath, and we went in, clearing up. Will took my hand, and we went upstairs.

  He set my weekend bag on a chair and picked up a large black paper bag. “Open it.”

  Inside was a strap-on. It was a clip harness with detachable dildos for the front, but the straps were designed so I could be penetrated while still wearing it.

  “There are a few choices.” He picked them out of the bag. Different colours, the silicone was soft to the touch, though the attachments themselves were firm. “I’m comfortable with this size.” He handed me the little red thing. Not the smallest, but not very large.

  I swallowed.

  “We don’t have to do any of this.”

  “I want it.”

  “And you’re sure about no condoms?”

  I smiled as I nodded, I wanted it so much I could barely breathe and turned to him. “I need to freshen up first.” I pressed a soft kiss to his lips and drew his bottom lip through my teeth.

  “Yes, of course, and I have to prepare too.”

  I took a quick shower, freshened up and put on the underwear I bought especially. Black lace, not particularly imaginative but it looked pretty. Wrapping my robe around me, I went back to him, and he’d laid out a host of other things.

  “Take a look. Decide what you want to try. When I’m ready, we’ll go over it.”

  I held up the thick leather cuffs and the bed restraints. Will put his arms around my waist, kissing my shoulder when he came back.

  “Have you decided?”

  “Yes. I’m going to cuff you to the bed and use and torment you. I expect to be obeyed.”

  He held me a little tighter. “Yes, Mistress.”

  My skin goosed. “Will you be good?”

  “I’ll try. What will happen if I’m not?”

  “I won’t let you come.”

  His breath shuddered. “I’ll do my best.”

  “Good. Put this on me.”

  He slipped the robe off my shoulders, skimming hi
s fingers over my skin, pecking small kisses to me as he did.

  He slipped down to his knees as I turned around. “You’re so beautiful.” He slipped what there was of my thong down, leaving me in my hold-ups and bra, and clipped the straps around my waist and tops of my thighs, adjusting it.

  “Suck it.” My heart thudded in my ears.

  His eyelids fluttered as he leant forward and opened his lips to it, taking it into his mouth.

  “Put your fingers in me.”

  He slipped two fingers inside and pressed them forward, massaging. I clutched his hair tight, encouraging his sucking, and leant my head back with a moan.

  I pushed him off. “Time to play.”

  Withdrawing his fingers, he sucked them with a hum.

  “Did I say you could do that?”

  “I’m sorry, Mistress, I couldn’t help it.”

  “You will be. Bed.”

  He went, and I straddled his chest, grabbing the cuffs and clip straps.

  I kissed him briefly, before cuffing one wrist, and then the other. He strained up against me, whispering little kisses to my neck.

  “Break me.” I felt the smile against my skin and his chest expanded beneath my thighs.

  I pushed him back down with a laugh and clipped the cuffs to the straps and wove the length through the headboard. His arms were stretched out, and if I wanted to turn him over, I could. “We’re going to play a little game.”

  “What game?”

  “Pussy or tit.”

  He burst out laughing, and I laughed with him until he squirmed at the restraints with a satisfied hum.

  “You get one and not the other.”

  “What?”

  I pinched his nipples, making him jolt under me. “Choose, now, or you get neither.”

  “Fuck. Tit.”

  I leant forward, and let him kiss my breast, his dick, hard and hot, teased my entrance and he squirmed as he tried to press up.

  With a laugh, I pulled up, and leant forward, nudging the dildo into his mouth, and he took it. When he squirmed, I leant back.

  “I said either.”

  He pouted. “Pussy.”

  I tweaked his nipples for good measure, and he shouted, shooting me a look. He told me he loved it and really got him wound up.

  I eased onto his cock. Pressing down on his chest, I watched him. Will’s eyes were set on the strap-on. With slow, deliberate movement, I clenched around him, right at the tip of his cock, and I’m sure his eyes rolled all the way around. I fucked him for a bit, bouncing hard against him, leaning forward, so my tits were right in his face.

  The kiss was automatic.

  “No.” I tweaked his nipples, pulled off his cock, and moved back up to his face, and he took the dildo into his mouth again.

  I pushed in all the way, and he took it greedily.

  We played until his desperate squirminess eased and he let me use him, accepting, obeying. I shifted off his body, and he watched me through almost closed eyes.

  Grabbing the lube, I opened his legs, setting them wide apart. His breathing got faster as he bit his lip.

  “Say please.”

  “Please, please Mistress.”

  I smirked, lubed the dildo and wet his entrance, working it and teasing. The need to please him and make this good made me nervous as I hovered, not quite pushing inside him.

  “Amber.”

  I froze.

  “Are you okay?” he asked softly.

  “I want to be good.”

  “You’re incredible. Just like we talked about.”

  “Okay.”

  “Green.” He grinned.

  I manoeuvred closer, wrapping one arm around a thigh, holding it wide, and pushed in. It took a minute to wiggle in and find the angle.

  He swore as I eased inside. I moved slowly, feeling the resistance until I pushed a little further, and he was so tight it was hard to thrust, but he gave a little, and I worked him.

  “Oh fuck.” He tensed his arms.

  The sight of my broad, muscular man cuffed and totally given up to me was electric. I pressed one arm on his front, and the hitched his leg higher and went faster.

  “Yes, fuck me.” He was lost, eyes closed, cheeks red, and totally free.

  “Look at me.”

  His eyes fluttered open, and he moaned. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful.”

  I’m glad I was relatively fit because he loved being fucked. He begged for more, needy and desperate.

  “That’s it, that’s it… I’m close.”

  I stopped and pulled out.

  “No!” He looked distraught.

  I got up and straddled him again and slid onto his dick.

  His eyes went wide. I was so turned on, teasing us both, wound my desire up so tight, I needed to feel him inside me.

  “You can’t come until I say. Do you understand?”

  “Ah, fuck. I can’t hold it.”

  “You fucking will.” I tweaked his nipples hard, and he went rigid, grunting through every squeeze of my pussy as my own orgasm built.

  He scrabbled under me. Face set, and almost grim with the effort of not coming as I cried out, spiralling into the peak of intense hot pleasure.

  It took me hard; my body fucking him of its own volition as I floated away in ecstasy.

  I came down, still moving.

  “Please, please.” He turned his face, biting his own shoulder.

  “Look at me and ask sweetly.”

  Taking a deep breath, he looked at me. I clenched with a smile on my face, making his lids flicker.

  “Please, Mistress, will you fuck my arse and let me come?”

  I slid off him, and he went lax, almost sobbing.

  Hiking a leg up, I reapplied lube and slid in all the way. I clutched his cock, hot and slick from being inside me, and stroked in time to my thrusts. Sweat rolled down my back, and my thighs strained with the effort.

  “Fuck, yes.” He stopped struggling and took it, his eyes half-closed.

  “When I say.”

  He murmured please over and over, his body utterly mine.

  “You can come.”

  He looked at me, pained face, and I thrust a little harder, stroking faster. His mouth tensed, and he shouted and came.

  A hard spurt caught me, and he splashed all over us both. I squeezed up and down his length until nothing else came out, and he was wrecked.

  I stilled, catching my breath, and with a dazed smile, he started laughing.

  “Okay?” I rubbed his thigh.

  “I’m ecstatic.” He beamed, half-moaning and half-laughing.

  I eased out and grabbed the towel he set out, cleaning us up, and then I unclipped him. His hands shook as I undid the clips.

  “Are you all right?” He sat up, body sated, and damp with sweat.

  “Yes. Knackered. Thrilled.” I’m sure my eyes were the size of saucers. He cupped my face and kissed me.

  For a moment we sat with foreheads touching, coming back down to earth.

  “I need a wee.”

  He grinned and let me go and spent several minutes in the bathroom after me, so I tidied up and cleaned everything.

  He stood in the doorway, glorious and beautiful. “That was the best.”

  “It was more than I imagined it could be.”

  “I’m exhausted.” He blinked sleepily.

  “Hell of a work out.”

  “Nap?”

  We climbed into bed with just a sheet. The room was cool with no sun on it, and the curtains closed. Will opened a window first, and we slept the afternoon away.

  That evening we went out for dinner, and it was perfect.

  I had to wonder if we could sustain it.

  FIXING

  We couldn’t see each other as much as we’d liked because summer is his busiest time of year, he was flat out with contracts, and I’d taken a second full-time commercial contract.

 
Though both stressed and run-ragged, we didn’t even play every time we saw each other, but we did play. Every scene was more intense, a deeper exploration, and I threw myself into it.

  Clothes, equipment, knowledge.

  He pushed me so I could push him. We found new boundaries and kinks to try. It was a blast.

  By August, we were in a routine. And with sinking comprehension, I knew I was in love with him.

  If I thought about it, I knew I was in love with him that first time we played. The connection to him was intense, and it was only our lives that tempered it. Yet neither of us talked about the future or what this was.

  Then it changed.

  August was oppressively hot. Humidity hovered in unpleasant stillness with no relief from a breeze, and Will was taking me to my first munch.

  It was odd. The performance of it wasn’t for me, but scratch past the veneer of peacocking and arrogance, there were some pretty cool people there.

  We listened to a lecture on whip work and pain play, and the Q&A panel on bonding with partners in play was fascinating. Pain wasn’t Will’s thing really, but he was open to trying more of it.

  I took notes.

  After that, we mingled, and some arrogant shit assumed I was a sub and tried to assert himself over me, and I told him to fuck off. Will was bringing drinks over, and as he handed me mine, the oily man turned, assessing him.

  “Do we need to make this a thing because I have no problem making this very ugly.” Will stared at the man, who left.

  “I’m sorry, that shouldn’t have happened.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Is this weird for you?”

  “Bit. It’s interesting though.”

  We bumped into Adam, Will’s friend from the first time we went out and the girl he pulled from the bar. They looked loved up. The four of us left, and we went for dinner.

  Claire was nice, and we talked while the guys caught up at the bar.

  “How long have you two been together?” she asked.

  “Oh, on and off for a bit, but we’re pretty into this right now. It’s just a…” I didn’t know how to finish that sentence.

  “He’s totally in love with you.”

  “No, he’s not.”

  “You don’t want him to be? Because you look like you ar-”

  “Well, yes. I am. I’m not sure that’s what he wants. Or I want for that matter. I don’t know. It’s all still so new.”