Fast Friends: Reunion

by Turner, Stacy

  “What you did wasn't so bad,” Tara said.

  “You liked it?”

  “Yes,” Tara said. “It didn't really hurt.”

  “It can,” Mark said, “if I hit you harder, it could really hurt. But if we built up to it I think you'd enjoy it.”

  Tara didn't answer. She didn't know if he was right.

  “Anyway,” Mark said. “I have other plans for tonight.” He smiled devilishly and moved over to the bed. “On your knees, bitch. Head down.”

  Alpha was back, obviously. Tara kneeled, lowering her head. She could hear him undressing. Her heart sped up. What was he planning?

  “Come lick my balls,” he said.

  Tara swallowed a gulp and edged forward, trying to find him without lifting her head. It wasn't too hard, but he didn't help either. He remained completely silent as she found her way between his knees, face to face with is genitals. His penis was only semi-hard, draping over his heavy balls. When she raised her hands to lift it out of the way he tisked.

  “No hands, bitch,” he said. He was saying the word bitch almost as if it was an endearment. It was very confusing. She experienced a fresh wave of embarrassment, and with it a tightening of her nipples. What is wrong with me? she thought.

  Tara didn't waste time on introspection. She leaned in and licked his scrotum. It was shaved and the thin skin was hot. He smelled a bit musky, but clean. There was no particular taste. Relieved that the experience wasn't particularly unpleasant, Tara gave his balls another swipe with her tongue. She brushed his cock and it gave a slight jerk and became a little more engorged. She continued the gentle swabbing, giving both egg-shaped organs equal attention. It was difficult to avoid his cock, but it got easier when it got hard and stood clear of the area she'd been tasked to focus on. He didn't stop her as his testicles got more and more slippery with her saliva.

  “Suck them,” he said huskily.

  Tara took one of the orbs into her mouth and sucked gently, careful not to touch it with her teeth. He grunted softly when she switched to the other one, giving it the same treatment as the first. She could feel his erection against her face when she twisted her head to take him deeper into her mouth. She was enjoying this, she realized, not only the act of debasing herself like this, but the feel of him in her mouth and the tension in his body. She knew she was giving him pleasure and the knowledge restored her sense of control. She was letting him dominate her, but there was power in what she was doing as well.

  “I need your mouth,” he said hoarsely, “on my cock.”

  Tara didn't hesitate. She captured the plum shaped head in her mouth and slid her lips down his shaft, taking him deep. She was too turned on to tease. She wanted him all. She didn't resist when he wrapped his hands in her damp hair and pushed her down. She opened completely, taking him into her throat. She was overcome with passion, slurping and sucking noisily as she took him inside her mouth again and again, letting him thrust into her with abandon. He pulled her head forward until her lips were wrapped around the base of his cock, holding her there for a breath-stealing moment before sliding her completely off him.

  He stood up and pushed his cook deep, thrusting into the throat the way he had the first night they slept together. Now, as then, Tara felt her body responding with increasing arousal. Her nipples tingled as he cupped the back of her neck and used her mouth roughly. As much as she could, she encouraged him, sucking and licking his rigid erection as it moved in and out of her mouth. He rewarded her by sliding all the way in again, staying there until her ears were ringing.

  “Amazing,” he said, collapsing back towards the bed. Tara's lips stung from being stretched and her throat hurt a little, but she had thoroughly enjoyed it.

  After catching his breath, Mark lifted her up onto the bed next to him and placed her on her stomach. She wasn't a bit surprised when he pushed his head between her cheeks and tongued her clean ass, probing it with his tongue. The sensation was exquisite and very dirty. She was dripping with arousal. He plunged two fingers into her pussy, stroking both openings simultaneously. After barely a minute she came. It wasn't as overwhelming as when she had come on the table, but it was still very good. While she was still panting from in the aftermath of her orgasm, he shifted on the bed and grabbed a condom. Sheathing himself, he thrust inside her, his thick shaft stretching her aroused flesh. Her pussy was so wet he slid deep on the first stroke filling her to the brim.

  “Yes,” Tara hissed, clutching a the comforter with her hands. Each deep thrust electrified her body further. Her nipples were like diamonds, drilling into the bedding. Her clit throbbed with every drag of his flesh inside hers. She was on the verge of coming again when he stopped and withdrew, his breathing as quick and unsteady as hers. She thought he was going to turn her over until she felt the cold liquid land on her rear opening. She tried not to move as his thick fingers worked the lubricant into her tight entrance. He added another thick dollop and worked two fingers into her stretching her resisting flesh. Tara willed herself to relax. It seemed to work as his fingers slid deeper and deeper, gradually seeming to glide in with little effort.

  He turned her onto her back and added more lube. She watched his face as he fingered her. He was focused on what he was doing, his lips slightly apart. He had such a handsome face, still the face she had grown up with, but different, more mature, more masculine. It was hard to tell in the candlelight, but she thought he might be flushed. His body seemed tense, as if he was hold himself back.

  He must have felt her eyes on him, because he looked up, clenching his jaw when his eyes met hers. She could read passion there and what might have been possessiveness. He stopped stroking her with his fingers and held her cheeks open. She stiffened when she felt the blunt head of his cock rest there. He leaned over, his face hovering above hers. One corded forearm rested to the side of her body. She wanted to kiss him, but she held back. She was a little bit afraid of what was about to happen. Slowly, he pressed inwards, the size of his erection causing undeniable discomfort.

  “Relax,” Mark said, lower is lips to brush hers. He snaked his hand between their bodies and found her clit, gently stroking it. Despite the discomfort in her ass, the stimulation worked and soon the heat in her body was rising again. His fingers were irresistible and the fear of what was coming slipped from her mind under the onslaught of pleasure. She forgot herself completely and humped against his fingers, forcing his rigid member deeper into her rectum. Somewhere in the midst of her arousal, the pain became insignificant. It felt dirty and wrong and good at the same time. She wanted this too. Maybe she'd wanted it since the first time he'd touched her there.

  She met his next gentle thrust with one of her own, and almost like magic the head of his cock popped through. It burned. He didn't move at first and soon the burning faded. Tara moved her hips, trying to urge him on. He responded, easing deeper inside her in series of shallow thrusts. Tara stopped being able to tell what was pleasure and what was pain. It just felt good. The sensations were intense and arousing and sexy. She rolled her hips, letting him know that she wanted it all. She wanted him to fuck her hard and fast.

  As if he too had lost the ability to hold back, he began stroking into her steadily. He claimed her lips, shuddering as his thrusts became less tentative. They were deeper and faster than before, and her body answered with pulses of pleasure. She pulled her legs up high, opening for him. She wanted him buried as deep inside her as possible. The sensation of being stretched was unbelievable. She enjoyed the way he felt buried in her pussy, but this was so much more. It felt as if his cock was twice as big.

  Pleasure unlike anything she had ever experienced lanced through Tara's body. She'd been having sex since she was seventeen. How could it be in all that time she had never felt anything like this? She had no thoughts, no awareness of her body, just complete suffusion with pleasure. Impossibly, her pleasure grew. It felt like a warm light starting in the center of her body and flowing outward like a dam had burst, filling th
e room, her whole mind, her body, everything. As if from far away she could hear herself coming, screaming yes, begging Mark to never stop, but within her mind there was almost a state of meditation. After what could have been seconds or hours, Mark hugged her tightly against him and shuddered, drilling into her like he was trying to come out the other side. Gradually, the quivers weakened and he went still.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “So here I am,” Tara said, “having Oaty-O's with the guy who took my anal virginity.”

  “What's weird?” Mark asked, grinning, “the anal or the Oaty-O's?”

  “Neither,” Tara said. “I guess it's the combination. I mean I have Oaty-O's for breakfast all the time. Sometimes for dinner too. Oaty-O's are mundane. Anal sex, on the other hand, is not mundane, not for me anyway. If I'd ever thought about my morning after first anal sex breakfast I think I would have guessed I'd be having something else. Steak and eggs, maybe, or Eggs Benedict.”

  “That's an interesting, thought,” Mark said. “What did you eat for breakfast the day after you lost your other virginity?”

  “Which one?” Tara teased.

  “Um, how about my favorite one,” he said, playfully, tapping her lower lip with his spoon. “Your deep throat virginity.”

  “Hmm,” Tara said, relieved that he'd picked that one. The morning after losing her virginity to Cameron she'd been too hung over to eat anything. She'd drunk a gallon of water, thrown up and then chocked down some saltines.

  “I went to out to breakfast,” she said. “Moons over my hammy.”

  “Classy,” he said, laughing.

  “Hey,” Tara said, pretending to be offended. “It was college. That was my boyfriend's version of the Biltmore.”

  Tara reached for the center of the table and touched the yellow petal of one of the flowers he hand brought her the night before. They'd spent an hour that morning cleaning up the previous night's dinner, and when they got done Mark had moved the flowers to the dining table. He had also moved himself closer, sitting next to her at the table. He was relaxed, smiling. Alpha was gone, for the time being.

  “What with Alpha, anyway?” Tara asked. “That term, I mean.”

  “It's kinda dorky,” he confessed.

  “Dare I say, I can handle it,” Tara said. She was no stranger to dorky Mark.

  “The first girl I ever played with was someone I met through a role play group,” he explained. “It was a MMORPG and we were werewolves.”

  “MMORPG?”

  “Like World of Warcraft,” he said. “But it was a different one. Anyway, the head of the pack was called the Alpha. The subs weren't called bitches, but she liked to use that word when we played. She was really into the scene.”

  “The BDSM scene?”

  “Of course,” he said. “We dated for almost a year when I was in college. That was how I got turned on to the whole thing. How about you?”

  “How about me, what?” Tara asked.

  “How'd you get into BDSM?”

  Tara frowned. Didn't he know?

  “You started telling me what to do,” she said, “and I realized I liked it.”

  “What?” He looked genuinely shocked. “I...that night when you got on your knees by the tennis courts, why did you do that?”

  “I was trying to apologize,” she said, feeling a bit alarmed. Why was he asking about that?

  At the worst possible time her phone rang. It was her mother, calling to see if she would still be coming over for dinner. Tara confirmed that she would, watching Mark as he cleared the table and rinsed their dishes in the sink. She talked to her mother for a couple of minutes before hanging up. Maybe she should invite Mark to come to dinner that night. She knew her mother would want to see him. Then again, there might be an interrogation in the offing too, so maybe that wasn't such a good idea.

  “These roses are so pretty, Mark,” she said, admiring the flowers. “I didn't thank you last night.”

  “I think you did just fine,” he said.

  Tara laughed. “Do yellow roses mean anything specific? I can't remember.”

  “They're for friendship,” Mark said. His voice was oddly constrained. She glanced at him and there was something about his expression that made her next question inevitable.

  “What's my favorite color, Mark?”

  He blinked, that guarded expression returning to his features. He didn't answer for a few seconds.

  “Yellow,” he said, finally.

  “But you didn't remember that until just now,” Tara said. “I thought you picked this color because I like it, but that's not it. You got me friendship roses.”

  He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “We are friends,” he said. “In fact, you said it.”

  Tara stood up and joined him in the kitchen. He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning a hip against the counter. Defensive posture. Interesting.

  “Just friends?” Tara asked.

  “What do you want me to say?” Mark asked, sounding more like a “guy” than Tara was comfortable with. It was incredibly disappointing. It wasn't that there hadn't been warning signs, but she had hoped that what they had shared meant a little more than this.

  “I want you to say what you really feel,” Tara said.

  “Can't we just have fun?” Mark said. “Why do we need to complicate things? Just because we're having sex doesn't mean we have to change the definition of our relationship.”

  “You know what, Mark,” Tara said. “That is exactly what it means. Maybe if we'd slept together one time and left it at that, maybe, you'd be right, but we're sleeping together. We live in the same town now. There is no way in hell we can be “just friends.”

  Mark shook his head. “You're not being reasonable, Tara. This is brand new between us. Are you going to tell me you know what you want already? Just relax and enjoy yourself. Let's just see where things go.”

  He sounded so sensible, but instead of reassuring her, his calmness chilled her. She had dated enough to know that a conversation like this rarely led to longterm happiness. He'd even avoiding saying they were dating.

  “I'm sorry,” Tara said. “Trust me when I say I'm not normally the kind of woman who gets attached just because I've had sex with someone, but I can't be detached about this. My feelings blew right past 'just friends' the first time we had sex, and the more we're together the more I want.”

  His eyes narrowed. “And what is that exactly?”

  “Obviously something you can't give,” Tara said softly.

  Mark stared at her, not saying a word. She waited a good minute, but nothing came out of his mouth.

  “Go home, Mark,” she said, turning away from him. He just stood there for the longest time, still not speaking. When she couldn't stand it any more Tara went to the bathroom and picked up the paper bag he had given her the night before. She want back to the living room. He had put his coat on and was slipping his socked feet into his shoes. She picked up the leather bag he had brought with him the night before and handed him both items before opened the door. They stared at each other, Tara's face set and Mark's unreadable. She waited for him to say something, even argue his case a bit more, but he didn't. Instead he dropped his head and walked out of the apartment. She didn't wait to see if he looked back before she closed the door.

  “Christie had her baby,” Tara told her mom a couple of hours after Mark's unceremonious departure. She was in the kitchen of her parents' house, shredding cabbage for bigos. The whole house smelled deliciously of pork, but it didn't pique Tara's appetite. Her stomach was in knots. Even the text from Christie announcing the birth of her son hadn't done much for her mood.

  “That's great,” Sarah said. “You don't seem too excited, though.”

  “It's just Mark,” Tara said. She sighed. “I finally asked him what his intentions were and he said he wanted to be 'just friends'.”

  “After you slept together?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “That's terrible,” Sarah said. “I'm
so sorry.”

  “I feel like such a fool,” Tara confessed. “I can't believe I let it go this far.”

  “It's not the end of the world, Tara,” her mother said. “At least you found out before you got too involved.”

  “I guess you're right,” Tara said. She almost wished she'd volunteered to cut up the onions, which was what her mother was doing. It would have been a good excuse for the tears welling in her eyes. “It doesn't feel like a lucky escape, though. I think I was really starting to fall in love with him.”

  “That's awfully fast,” her mother said.

  “That's what he said, kind of,” Tara said, “but I can't help how I feel. I've known him my whole life. And it was so intense when we were together.”

  “You're talking about sex? You know men don't experience sex the same way we do. They can compartmentalize like nobody's business.”

  Tara didn't correct her mother. She had never had any trouble compartmentalizing sex until Mark. If she had known where sleeping with him would lead she would have let him walk out of her apartment the night of the reunion. Maybe he would have been walking out of her life, but he'd ended up doing that anyway. Now she had not only lost a friend, she also had what felt like a gaping hole in her chest.

  “I know he hurt your pride, Tara,” her mother said, “but put this in perspective. You weren't seeing each other for very long and now you know how he feels. You're a beautiful, intelligent woman. There is a man out there who knows what you're worth and will treat you like you deserve to be treated. Mark is the idiot to throw away the chance to be with you.”

  “I guess you're right,” Tara said.

  “I know I'm right,” her mother said. “You may be forgetting it right now, but I remember who you are. You're the girl who picked herself up after she fractured her arm during a soccer game and finished the half. You were strong enough to tough out the pain when you were thirteen and you're strong enough now. Am I right?”