It was supposed to be just a bit of innocent fun. Well, mostly innocent. But then something weird happened and everything changed.
It wasn’t the first time we’d done it. If I’m honest, we did it quite often. When we were out in bars and clubs. We’d stand somewhere prominent, Sophie and I, and we’d kiss. We didn’t do it for ourselves, obviously, we did it for the attention. And for the free drinks.
We always made a real show of it. We’d properly snog, and we’d do it slowly, passionately, with open mouths and overlapping tongues. We’d kiss languorously, as if we were lost in our lust for each other. We’d run our hands through each other’s hair, we’d squeeze our bottoms. After a few minutes we’d always have a crowd of baying men around us. It never failed. We’d have our pick of them, if any appealed, and we’d be inundated with free drinks all night.
It wasn’t the classiest way to behave, I know. I could pretend it was empowering, but in reality it was cheap and trashy. I loved it though. The actual kissing didn’t turn me on, it was just a performance. No, it was the attention that got me hot. The way the men would crowd around us and holler and salivate, it was such a rush. With just a bit of kissing and groping, Sophie and I could reduce them to a pack of howling animals. How’s that not going to turn me on?
We got really good at the kissing too. We didn’t practice, or anything like that, we didn’t even talk about it. It was just that every time we kissed our performance got better.
We’d introduce new elements, we’d suck on each other’s lips, we’d let our mouths come apart so the men could see our tongues touching. We pushed each other further too. We’d rub and squeeze each other’s breasts through our tops. We’d press our thighs between the other’s legs and we’d grind against each other.
But none of that ever turned me on. It was acting. At least until that weekend.
We were out on a full-on, girls-only, screaming, shrieking, Saturday night. All of us were there, we went to central London, and we were determined to have a big, loud, drunken, messy night of it. We hit bars, we drank too much, we yelled and shouted, we wanted to dance and kiss boys, and hopefully more.
Sophie and I kissed in every bar we went in to, naturally. We were awful. Totally shameless. We got loads of free cocktails though.
By the time we got into the night club, I was horny from all the attention and drunk from all the free drinks. Sophie caught my eye on the dancefloor after only a few minutes, and we came together.
We danced suggestively before we kissed. We held each other, we pressed and ground our bodies together, men moved closer around us.
Our faces slowly came closer. Our lips brushed against each other’s. We kissed, a quick press of the lips, but we came apart as if it was the first time we’d done it. As if we were both unsure, scared of what was happening. Somewhere close a man shouted his encouragement over the throbbing dance music.
We came closer again; our lips met a second time. We kissed for a little longer, but we kept our mouths closed. We pretended to come to our senses, we pulled away; more men shouted.
We couldn’t help ourselves though. As we danced, as we rubbed against each other, our attraction was too much to ignore, or at least that was the story we were telling. We couldn’t resist each other, our mouths met, our lips opened, our tongues slid into each other and we were off.
We kissed like porn stars, expressively, dramatically. We squeezed each other tight, Sophie ran a hand through my hair, I held her face, and we kissed slowly, with intensity. The men started their usual howling.
But then the weird thing happened.
Sophie ran her hand down my body, just as she had on so many occasions, but this time it was different. This time her fingers found a gap between my top and my skirt. Her fingertips traced over the bare skin above my hip, and a ripple of ticklish, electric pleasure shot through me.
It felt so intense I bucked involuntarily, and Sophie must have noticed, because she did it again. She danced her fingertips over that sensitive spot I’d never known I had, and I shuddered with pleasure. I think I may have sighed into her lips.
I felt Sophie smiling as we kissed, but she must have thought it was part of the act. She did it again and again, oblivious to the effect she was having on me. She ran her fingers all over that ticklish spot. She even pushed my top up a little to caress more skin, my skirt down a touch, she was merciless. I bucked and writhed in her arms, I sighed again and again, but this time it wasn’t for show. I couldn’t help myself.
A part of me wanted her to stop. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, it wasn’t meant to actually feel good. I wasn’t attracted to girls, I liked boys, this wasn’t right. But fuck, it felt so intense, every brush of her fingertips made me shake and gasp. Every touch made me pulse between my legs.
Unwanted thoughts started to form; I couldn’t get them out of my head. How good Sophie’s lips felt, how full and soft they were, it was like I’d never noticed before. How she kissed me with a perfect mix of passion and sensitivity, how she used her tongue just right, she didn’t force it in, she teased me with it. How had I never realised how good she was at this?
I seemed to notice the smell of her perfume for the first time, the sweet taste of her lip gloss, her hot breath against my face as she kissed my neck.
The feel of her body against mine took on a new significance. Her heavy breasts pressed against my chest, her thigh between mine, her thick, full, wonderfully curved buttocks in my hands.
A powerful, urgent need welled up inside me. I couldn’t stop it. My chest tightened, my breathing quickened, I felt hot and wet down there. I realised my hands were trembling as I ran them over Sophie’s body. In the space of a couple of hammering heartbeats everything had changed.
I forgot about the world around us, the music, the lights, the braying men, all my focus was on Sophie now. We’d kissed so many times before, but now it felt like our first time.
I pulled Sophie into me harder; I moaned before I could stop myself. I kissed her without the fake, deliberate passion from before, I let go and I kissed her without thought.
But then the doubts hit me. What the fuck was I doing? I wasn’t gay, I was straight. And what if Sophie realised what was happening, that I was kissing and groping her for real? She’d freak out massively. I was her best friend, and this was abusive, I was taking advantage of her. I tried to pull away, but Sophie dragged me back to her again. I felt her grinning once more as she kissed me.
Sophie tickled me in that spot again. She grasped my arse with her other hand, she kissed me with what felt like barely controlled passion, and my resolve melted like butter in a furnace. I grasped that glorious, thick arse of hers with both hands and I kissed her back.
My head started to spin. I felt drugged with desire. Sophie got a little more forward than usual too. She massaged one of my breasts so firmly through my top, my knees went weak. She managed to press her thumb against my nipple, and even through my top and my bra, it made my pussy throb with need.
I found my hand moving up to Sophie’s chest without any involvement of my conscious mind. I held one of her heavy, round, perfect breasts, and the feel of it, dear god, I couldn’t help but moan and squirm against her. How had I never realised how good Sophie felt, how deliciously, feminine she was? Fuck, she was overwhelming.
Sophie’s hand moved from my arse. I felt it slide around my body, inching closer to the front of me, and I didn’t even think about stopping her. Her fingers traced over my thigh through my skirt. They headed lower. They ran down the front of my stockings and her light, delicate, teasing touch made me shiver and moan louder.
And then Sophie moaned back, and it sounded real, like I’d never heard before. It made me tighten all over. I was pulsing down there now with each beat of my heart.
Sophie’s hand moved down the outside of my leg, and then stopped. Her fingertips slid over to the inside of my thigh. They held still for a moment, but then they started to move up me. They made me tremble. No one had ever made me tremble before.
Sophie’s fingers reached the bottom of my skirt, and I wanted it. I wanted her hand to keep going, but then a man close to us yelled out especially loud in his excitement and it broke our bubble. I snapped back to reality. I remembered where we were, in the middle of a dancefloor surrounded by horny men.
Suddenly it wasn’t so exhilarating to be the centre of attention though. I looked around us and I saw the men differently now. Their blank eyes, their reptile stares, their lust was crude and aggressive.
The men desired us, but only superficially. We were a show, nothing more. Just meat. And what we were doing was sleazy and tawdry and cheap. How could this have ever turned me on? Something so vulgar and demeaning? How could I have never realised how soft and sensual and intoxicating Sophie was?
She whispered in my ear. Sophie asked me if I wanted to get out of there. I didn’t really understand what she meant, but I did, I didn’t want to be in the middle of that pack of men anymore. I nodded. Sophie took my hand and we pushed our way through the club together.
Sophie kept hold of my hand as we queued for our coats, but it didn’t feel odd, it felt right. She led me outside, I didn’t know where we were going or what was going to happen next, but my heart was beating so hard it felt like a hammer in my chest.
Sophie pulled me down an alley that ran beside the club. She pushed me into a doorway and she kissed me.
I couldn’t seem to think. My mind was a mess, thoughts wouldn’t solidify, it didn’t feel real. I found myself kissing Sophie back though, and the need was there still, it was rising and swirling through me.
We pressed ourselves together, we ran our hands over each other with real urgency now, we moaned loud, even though no one was there to see us.
Sophie whispered in my ear again as she slid her hand up my top. She said something about me realising at last, about how long she’d waited for me to notice her. It took me a couple of slow, pleasure-fogged seconds to realise what she was saying.
I was trying to think of what to say to her, how to put all these new thoughts into words, when her hand pushed under my bra. Her fingers closed over my breast and my mind went blank. She found my nipple and my legs nearly gave way.
I should have been thinking about what this all meant, about what was going to happen now, but I was lost in Sophie and all I wanted was to get my hands on her body, and then, well, we’d see about everything else later.
I worked a hand up the back of Sophie’s top and I flicked her bra open. I ran my fingers around her body, I slid them under her bra, and I think I actually swooned. Sweet Jesus, she was heavenly. Her breasts were soft and smooth, she was so different to the men I’d touched. Her skin felt hot; her nipples were thick and engorged. She groaned wonderfully, she squirmed against me as I rolled them under my thumb.
Sophie’s hand fell against my thigh again. Her fingers moved up; I stepped my legs apart to show her I wanted it, but then she’d probably guessed that already. I started trembling again as she moved higher.
She pushed her hand up my skirt, her fingertips slid over the top of my stocking, I shivered and sighed as they touched my skin. Her fingers moved higher, I moaned into her lips as she touched the front of my underwear.
Sophie groaned and pressed herself against me as she ground her hand into the front of my knickers. I closed my eyes tight, I squeezed one of her breasts a little harder than I probably should have. I pressed myself back against her fingers.
I felt how soaking wet I was as Sophie mashed my knickers into my sopping cunt. I rocked my hips against her shamelessly, I couldn’t help it, I was desperate for her to touch me there. I wanted the same too though, I wanted to feel her there as well.
I shoved my hand up Sophie’s skirt with less teasing and finesse than she’d used on me. Her knickers were silky, but they felt equally as sodden as mine. Sophie moaned and squirmed as I stroked and rubbed her. I pressed my fingers against her more firmly and I could feel the shape of her pussy through the thin, damp, warm material.
Sophie pulled my knickers to one side as I slid my hand down the front of hers. I felt a patch of hair, then smooth, soft, slippery lips, and it was almost too much to take in. The feel of her made me go dizzy, it was exciting, but it was so strange too, and this was Sophie, my best friend, I couldn’t get my head around it. And she was touching me there as well, stroking me with the softest of touches, exploring me with her fingers; each touch sent jolts of pleasure through me. I was drunk, none of it felt real, it was dreamlike.
Sophie spread my lips and stroked me in between, and I did the same, her silky wetness flowed over my fingers. She traced a finger up me and my legs nearly gave way again as she traced it over my clit. I found hers too, a little swollen nub amongst her soft, wet folds. I ran my fingertip around it in a tight circle and she moaned so loud it made groan in reply.
For the first time, we truly lost ourselves in each other. Every touch from Sophie felt better than the last, my pleasure mounted, each gasp and groan from her sent me higher. The feel of her body made me tremble harder, and it felt like it was the same for her as she groaned and squirmed in my arms.
We stroked our clits faster, in time together, we groped each other’s bodies with our free hands, we got a little frenzied. We moaned louder, we kissed with abandon, we bucked our hips without any restraint.
Fuck, I wanted Sophie more than anyone ever, I wanted to hear and feel her come. I slid a finger into her pussy to feel how she felt, hot and wet and tight. I fucked her with it, she pressed herself onto my hand to get more.
Sophie squeezed my breast with her free hand, she pulled on my nipple, and my head swam and my clit pounded. I ran my free hand over her gorgeous tits, I pinched her thick nipples, I made her groan louder. I pushed a second finger into her pussy, and the position was a little awkward, but I managed to get my thumb onto her clit too.
Our noises came louder, higher in pitch, our hands moved faster between each other’s legs. We leaned into the doorway together to stay on our feet. I took my hand out from under Sophie’s top, I lifted her skirt up at the back, I slid my fingers down the back of her knickers and I felt her full, perfect bottom in all its bare-naked glory.
I cupped Sophie’s magnificent arse, I squeezed her hard, I even dared push my fingers between her curved cheeks. I was touching her everywhere, in her most intimate places, gorgeous, beautiful Sophie, and it was too much for my confused, horny little mind to take. My pleasure rose up, it peaked, it got so intense I thought my legs really were going to give out. I shouted out, I shook all over, I buried my face in Sophie’s hair and I came hard as she stroked my clit and pulled on my nipples.
I made such a song and dance of coming it was a miracle someone didn’t come running to see who was being murdered. But I think all that noise and shaking did it for Sophie, and that it tipped her over the edge, because I’m pretty sure I wasn’t touching her with any particular rhythm. I felt her go tense all over, then she made a noise that made my chest tighten, and suddenly she was shuddering and jerking and coming too.
I tried my best to stroke Sophie’s clit with my thumb and fuck her with my fingers, but my own mind-shattering orgasm wasn’t making it easy.
I felt her pussy tighten each time she moaned, and that kept me coming. I grasped her arse hard and I held on for dear life as my orgasm hit me harder.
We kissed as we came down together. We kept our hands in each other’s knickers for longer than was strictly necessary.
When we eventually pulled our clothes back into place, I expected there to be an awkwardness between us, but there wasn’t. We didn’t speak, but we kept kissing and smiling at each other.
Sophie asked me if I wanted to go back to her place. I said yes without any hesitation.
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