Seducing Her Best Friend

by Doris O'Connor

  “You’ve got helmet hair. Long hair and helmets do not mix.” Her voice sounded husky, and she cleared her throat repeatedly, while my heart turned into a jackhammer, beating so loudly I was sure Rosie must be able to hear it. Certainly, she could feel it, as her hand lingered on that far too sensitive skin just under my ear for a fraction longer than was necessary to tuck a strand of my hair behind it. Her gaze flicked to mine, and there it was again, that spark of heat that threatened to set me alight. All too soon, she withdrew her light touch, shook her head as though to clear it of whatever thoughts were plaguing her, and turned her back on me.

  “Let’s get inside. It’s getting chilly out here.”

  My gaze fell immediately to the sway of Rosie’s butt cheeks, perfectly showcased in the tight, black, tailored trousers that formed part of her uniform, and I swallowed hard. Why had I never noticed before what a hot piece of ass my best friend was?

  I wrenched my eyes upwards from the poetry in motion in front of me and concentrated on negotiating the towpath instead. When I almost slipped in the damn heels, I gave up and took them off, swaying precariously. Wouldn’t that be grand if I ended up head first in the murky waters of the canal? A warm hand under my elbow steadied me, sending yet more shivers of awareness racing each other across my skin.

  “I always said those heels would be the death of you.” Rosie’s soft voice in my ear was so close that puffs of hot breath ghosted across my skin. If I turned my head just slightly, I could kiss her. What would it be like to kiss her, I wondered, even as I struggled to remain upright. “How you can walk in them is beyond me.” Humor laced Rosie’s voice this time, and I shrugged.

  “It just takes practice.”

  I was quite proud of myself to get that many words out past the huge lump in my throat. I’d never been tongue-tied around Rosie, but then I’d also never been so aware of her either. I wanted nothing more than to lean on her, to claim those full lips curved into a slight smile, but I forced myself to not use Rosie’s strength more than was needed to get my second heel off. She released me immediately my foot was back on solid ground, and I now had to look up slightly. I was half a head shorter without my heels.

  “Well, I don’t know how you can wear those heavy boots all the time. You have a great figure. You should show it off more.”

  What made me say that I shall never know. I knew she wouldn’t take that comment well, and sure enough she answered through gritted teeth.

  “Maybe I don’t want to show it off, Tirath. We don’t all want male attention.” Rosie shook her head and ran a hand through her short, white-blonde hair. It made some strands stick up, and my fingers itched to straighten them for her. “I’m sorry, babe, that was uncalled for. I’m just a little on edge tonight. Let’s just get inside. I need a coffee or something.”

  Rosie almost ran down the towpath and banged the barge door shut behind her. I swallowed past the lump in my throat and followed at a slower pace. By the time I made it into the kitchen area, the smell of brewing coffee permeated the air. I silently watched as Rosie went through the motions of finding cups, filling them with the strong brew, and finally handing one to me. I bit my lip when our fingers brushed, and Rosie, too, dropped her hand as though the coffee had splashed over the sides and scalded her.

  “What happened, Tirath?” Rosie’s emerald gaze searched my face. It had always fascinated me how her eyes changed color according to her mood and the light. Sometimes they seemed as blue as the summer’s sky. When she was deep in thought like she was now, they turned to the color of moss. Rosie’s eyebrows drew together in concern. “I mean, you can stay here for as long as you need to, you know that, but I’m worried about you. You don’t seem yourself tonight, and—”

  I couldn’t contain the sob bubbling up, and Rosie’s expressive eyes widened. Before I could even blink I was in her arms, crying my eyes out on her shoulder. I was dimly aware of Rosie guiding me along, and then I collapsed onto a soft well-worn settee, still clinging onto Rosie’s shoulders.

  Who knew I had so much pent up grief contained inside of me? Who knew it would hurt so much to be tossed out on my ear by my Dad? Why the hell did I care so much, anyway? He’d never paid much attention to me. I was only a girl, fit for only one thing in his eyes, to marry well and further his business expansion that way. With my refusal to do that, I was worthless.

  I cried until I was hoarse, huge, wracking sobs that left a wet make-up stain on Rosie’s top. When I finally had myself back under control, it dawned on me that I was almost sitting in Rosie’s lap. My hands were fisted in her top, my legs across her lap, and one of Rosie’s hands was in my hair. The other one rested on the top of my thigh, just above my stocking. The slight weight of if felt like a promise, a brand, as heat traveled up from that contact, sending yet more of my arousal into my panties.

  Rosie was murmuring nonsense into my hair, the low cadence of her voice incredibly soothing and arousing in equal measures, and I stopped thinking altogether. Something that felt this right couldn’t be wrong. I never wanted to leave the safety of Rosie’s arms and gave myself up to sensation. Rosie’s natural scent wrapped itself around my senses, and I snuggled closer into the embrace, feeling safe and loved for the first time in ages.

  “Feeling better now, Princess T?” Rosie’s whispered words skimmed across the sensitive skin just below my ear, as she pulled my hair out of the way and dropped a feather light kiss on the rapidly beating pulse point there. I bit back a moan and simply nodded, not trusting my voice at all. The hand on my thigh tightened imperceptibly, and I willed Rosie to not let go, to skim just a little bit higher, where a rush of moisture coated my panties. She would know then, without me having to tell her.

  “If I’m reading this wrong, then tell me to fuck off, babe.” Rosie’s strained words held me in thrall, and I slowly raised my head to look up at my oldest friend. Desire warred with concern in the depths of her beautiful eyes, and I edged closer. Our breaths mingled, and my eyes fluttered closed at the first tentative touch of Rosie’s lips on mine. I sighed in contentment and opened under the gentle pressure, so different from the rough, impatient way Max had always forced his tongue inside my mouth, while his hands forcefully grabbed my tits. I stiffened at the unwelcome memory, and Rosie pulled away. She cupped my cheeks in her hands, and I lost myself in the tenderness of her gaze, as she searched my expression. Her long, slender fingers gently massaged the base of my skull, and I relaxed again. Almost against my will my eyes fluttered closed, and I moaned.

  “You’re exhausted, babe. Let’s get you to bed.”

  Excitement pooled low in my belly at Rosie’s husky words. Delivered on a slow exhale they raised the fine hair on her arms.

  “To sleep, I hasten to add, Princess T. We can talk about this in the morning.”

  Chapter Three

  Rosie

  The insistent buzzing of my phone shook me out of my erotic dream. I swore softly as the damn thing slipped out of fingers too slick with my own arousal to get a grasp on the mobile. It clattered to the floor, the sound far too loud in the quiet night air.

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Shit, shit, and double fucking shit. If having sexy dreams about my best friend sleeping in the room next to mine wasn’t bad enough to deal with—I never did give that dildo a workout—some complete moron tried to ring me at—I squinted at the alarm clock on the nightstand—four o’clock in the fucking morning. Whoever the idiot was had left a voice mail. I didn’t recognize the missed call, but I dutifully speed dialed and listened and swore again.

  Tirath’s father was clearly drunk, his heavily accented voice slurred and difficult to understand. I got the words fucking slut, no daughter of mine, cunt-loving whore, blow off her engagement, will she, let her see how long she lasts without my money, loud and clear though. My stomach churned, and my fists pummeled the cushion into submission, wishing like hell it was Tirath’s father’s head I was doing some damage to. And I didn’t even believe in violence.
The man had some fucking nerve.

  Tirath had danced to his tune all her life, and now, for whatever reason she wasn’t, he was washing his hands of her? She couldn’t have broken up with her fiancé? She would have said and did that mean … no. That man didn’t know his daughter at all. She didn’t do girls. The string of ex-boyfriends attested to that, regardless of whatever had almost happened between the two of us earlier. It was another reason to not give into my body’s urges, no matter what signals Tirath sent out to me. She was a friend in need of comfort and somewhere to stay until she’d sorted out this latest disaster.

  That is all. Hands off, Rosie.

  I smiled in the dim light coming in through the portholes. Tirath always lurched from one disaster to the other. Granted, this one seemed to have left her vulnerable and confused, and I’d be the world’s worst friend ever if I took advantage of Tirath’s current confusion. And she had to be confused, didn’t she?

  You didn’t just wake up one day and decide you were gay. Then again, what did I know? With no family expectations to conform to, I’d always been able to do my own thing. I’d never fancied boys or lusted after some male celebrity or boy band like so many of my peers did in my teenage years. That whole thing had passed me by, and by the time I realized that my feelings for Tirath went much deeper than friendship it had also been abundantly clear that Tirath didn’t feel the same way. She’d lost her virginity to the popular boy in school that week. An anxious wait had followed when she’d been late with her period, and I’d been right there with her, every time she dumped another loser, until we’d parted ways. My own encounters with girls, and the one disastrous attempt at having sex with a guy—to satisfy my curiosity more than anything else—had only confirmed what I’d known all along. I didn’t do boys. And the girls I did hook up with for sex and companionship had never held my attention for long. In short, they weren’t Tirath. Compared to her, everyone else just faded into the background. One of the many reasons why I was so damn horny. Sex for the sake of it had never been my thing, and it didn’t seem fair to any potential partner to string her along when my heart had already been taken.

  I groaned into the semi-darkness and gave up on trying to sleep. That was never going to happen now. Having shimmied into a pair of French knickers, I grabbed my sculpting apron off the hook by the door, stopped briefly in the kitchen for supplies, and then settled myself at the far side of the boat. The sculpting chocolate I’d left covered by a cloth was a little too stiff, so I added some more of the just heated chocolate mix to make it easier to work with. I sighed in relief when my fingers slid into the warm mass. The soothing scent of chocolate filled the air, and the familiar sensual sensation of kneading and creating calmed my frayed nerves. My heartbeat slowed, and I closed my eyes to let my hands create at will what my mind envisaged.

  Ah, this is what I needed.

  If all else failed, using my hands and being creative always worked.

  I lost track of time, like I always did, lost in my creative bubble, until a scraping sound behind me pulled me out my thoughts. Before I could process that sound, warm hands settled over mine, and Tirath’s scent surrounded me, as the woman who owned my heart, sat on a stool behind me. Her soft curves molded against my naked back. Her breath whispered across my jaw, leaving me all too aware of her. Whatever thoughts I might have been capable of in that moment fled my befuddled brain as I released a shaky exhale.

  “Did I wake you? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I just needed to … to…” The words died on my lips, because Tirath’s long, bare legs encased mine, and she rested her head on my shoulder. Our fingers entwined in the fragrant mass, and Tirath’s sigh reverberated through me.

  “This feels wonderful. I can see why you like this so much, even if it makes a terrible mess. Can you eat this?”

  “Ye-es.” Somehow, I managed to get that one word out past the lump in my throat. Jesus, what was Tirath playing at? I could feel every soft curve of her body against my skin, and my libido woke up kicking and screaming. Not caring one iota that this was my best friend and crossing the border into lovers would potentially be a disaster in the making.

  Tirath’s deep-throated chuckle in response settled right in my lower regions, making my pussy tingle in need. Fuck, that had to the sexiest laugh ever, and I bit my lips so hard, I tasted my own blood. Anything to stop myself from groaning out loud.

  My resolve was sorely tested when Tirath brought her chocolate-coated fingers to her full lips and sucked the confectionary off the digits with languorous licks of her little pink tongue.

  Jesus, what would that tongue feel like between my thighs?

  My breath grew shallow, my traitorous nipples beaded against the fabric of my apron, and my clit clenched in a “come to mama” dance. The little appreciative noises Tirath made as the chocolate melted on her tongue pitched my need to taste that tongue wrapped around my own sky high.

  I needed a taste of my friend almost as much as I needed air to fill my lungs.

  Reason took a hike, and my instincts took over.

  I wanted her with a need that bordered on insanity, and she clearly wanted me, too, so why deny us both? I might well regret this in the morning, but for now I wanted to lose myself in the delights of Tirath’s body and to not analyze what this all meant.

  I swiveled on my stool better to face Tirath and brought my own chocolate-covered fingers up to her sensual lips. Tirath smiled, took my wrist, and sucked two of the digits into the moist haven of her mouth. Our gazes locked, and Tirath offered her other hand to me.

  I didn’t need to be asked twice, and we groaned in unison when I sucked the sweet substance off Tirath’s thumb. The air around us grew heavy with the scent of chocolate and our combined arousal.

  “Are you sure this is what you want?” I had to ask, my insides clenching in fear of a negative answer. Tirath simply smiled and pulled the t-shirt I had lent her to sleep in over her head. Her full breasts bounced with the movement, her nipples tight little beacons thrusting toward me like “come suck me” signals. My mouth went dry when Tirath dipped her hands into the chocolate mix again and proceeded to rub the confectionary over her breasts in slow, sensual movements. Her nipples jutted out further into the air, practically begging for my mouth. I squashed down the last of my misgivings, bent forward, and suckled the stiff nub. Tirath’s sharp intake of breath and the way her hands yanked at my hair spurred me on.

  Oh yeah, my girl liked this. I inhaled deeply against the skin, loving the scent and taste of her. Just like I thought she would, Tirath tasted divine, and I wanted more. So much more. Still, if this was just an experiment for her, I’d make damn sure I’d ruin her for anyone else.

  I’d show her how good we could be, what she’d been missing out on when she fooled around with those men. How her fiancé could be so careless as to let her go, I would never know. His loss was my gain, however.

  I released the nipple with a pop, ran my tongue around Tirath’s areola, and along the underside of her breasts. I looked up at her while I tested the deliciously soft weight of her tits with my hands.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful, babe. I’m going to worship these breasts and lick every inch of your skin until you come for me.”

  “Oh, God.” Her strangled reply made me grin, and I set back to work. I licked and nibbled and squeezed until there was no trace of the chocolate left on Tirath’s flawless olive-colored skin, loving the way her breasts shook with her labored breathing.

  She was getting so close already, it was delightful, as she squirmed under my lips.

  Tirath’s hands dug into my thighs, and I loved the slight pain her long fingernails caused. No doubt they’d be leaving crescent-moon shapes on my skin. A reminder, come morning, of what we’d shared tonight. The slight sting sent tiny darts of electricity dancing towards my clit. I, too, squirmed on my stool, pressing my needy cunt against the hard surface to seek the relief I so desperately needed.

  But this wasn’t about my nee
ds and desires. I wanted, needed, to bring Tirath pleasure, to chase away the shadows in her eyes, to express my feelings by worshipping her stunning body. We might well only have this one time. Surely in the bright light of day Tirath would come to her senses, but by golly, I could give her a night to remember. I pulled back, took Tirath’s knees, and pulled her gently until her delicious ass was half hanging off the chair. Another one of those sexy moans came from my girl, and I licked my lips at the rapidly spreading damp spot on Tirath’s thong.

  “You’re so wet for me already, babe. I need to taste your sweet cunt. Would you like me to do that? Feast on that pussy of yours until you come against my mouth? Will you scream my name when you come for me, Princess T?”

  Tirath’s eyes widened at my dirty talk, her pupils so dilated I could drown in them. She didn’t respond to my question in words, but the needy whimper which escaped her lips as she bit down on the plump flesh was all the confirmation I needed. I took the jug with the remaining warm chocolate, grinned up at her, and poured the liquid over her quivering abdomen. Tirath hissed her arousal when the rivulets of chocolate seeped into her lacy thong. Her hips bucked off the chair in a silent offering, and I slid to the floor to kneel between her lush thighs. Tirath was all curves to die for, and I loved that about her.

  “Hold onto the sides. You’re in for one hell of a ride, babe.”

  Tirath whimpered her assent, and I hooked my thumbs under her thong and pulled the scrap of material slowly down her legs. The scent of chocolate mixed in with her sweet musk of arousal, and I had to remind myself to keep breathing. My pussy quivered in need, the internal muscles clenching and expelling more of my juices into my knickers. The flimsy material would stand no chance at containing my arousal. Not that I cared about that right now. Not when I finally had Tirath where I wanted her. Mine for the taking.

  I caught the smears of chocolates the thong made on her inner thighs with my tongue, groaning at the taste of my woman, while I inched ever closer to my target. Tirath’s waxed pussy lips glistened with her arousal. Crisscrossed with drips of chocolate, she was wet and swollen, her inner lips slightly darker in color than her labia, and as for her clit, that little bundle of nerves peeked out of its fleshy hood. An invitation to suck, to devour, to bite down and make her come.