Not so platonic after all (M/F) | 2016

Please excuse any typos I miss. Typing this out on a phone while away from home.

When I was 19 years old, I worked at a local pizza restaurant while attending a community college in order to get my degree in Secondary English Education. I was a cook, and a damn good one at that. Sara was a waitress. And she was beautiful.

She was one of the first people that opened up to me at the joint, and we found common ground in our love for literature, especially Shakespeare. This gorgeous blonde, who stood at five foot seven and barely touched 120 pounds, had the looks of a model, firm C cups, and an ass that made men drool in her wake was becoming extremely close to me. Of course I was okay with it, but tried to downplay the ridiculous crush I had developed quite quickly. She was spoken for, and the guy was a legitimately good guy. Besides, Sara was a 9 and I barely come in at a strong 6. My only strong suit was my football build from high school and a clever sense of humor.

I would come into work with a new set of lines to recite to her, and she would stare at me with those sensual green eyes while I rattled off blank verse as if it was my natural form of speech. Yet the more I longed for her, the less attainable she was. It became the most depressingly platonic relationship I had.

Fast forward a few years, and we had gone our separate ways but stayed in touch constantly. On occasion we would meet up at a local IHOP while she was in town. It was at these breakfast talks that she began to tell me more intimate things about her life as a flight attendant. The relationship she had with a pilot. Nights in Vegas that would have stayed there if I hadn't been curious. It was torture to hear what these men had gotten from her while I longed for it with every fiber of my being. I tried to make her jealous of my exploits as well, telling of the women I had been with and pointing out their strong suits in bed, and their shortcomings that left me unsatisfied. She never flinched. She never showed interest in making up for those shortcomings.

Last summer while at a poolside get together with mutual friends, I made a joke about our friendship being platonic to another friend of ours. She overheard and seemed a bit surprised that I called it that, but the conversation didn't go any further.

Which brings us to here and now, and why I'm writing this. My plans this weekend had been to drive down and visit friends that lived relatively close to Sara. On a whim, I texted her to see if she was available, and she excitedly texted back "ABSOLUTELY! Let's get together!"

We made plans for when I got down to go grab dinner, and I looked forward to sharing some stories of my experiences in life and love over the past year. When I got to the restaurant, she was already there, but something felt different this time. She was dressed different. She smelled different. She smiled different. Every hormone in my body was going far more berserk than normal around her, so much so that my mouth watered.

Our conversation ranged over a wide array of topics, but I was distracted constantly. She would push out her cleavage and moan under her breath. If the topic stayed away from sex too long, she would bring it back up, asking for details on things I'd told her before during our breakfasts. She wanted to know my history all over again.

As dinner came to a close, she insisted I follow her back to her place for a beer and a movie. I agreed, hardly believing what was happening but knowing all too well where this was going. I kept asking myself if I was dreaming.

By the time we got through her foyer and into her living room, her lips were on mine in a deathgrip of lusty passion I hadn't known since Junior year. "No movie. Just fuck me, but I want you to Fuck me better than the rest. I want you to make me realize what I've missed out on for so long."

That's when it hit me. She was blissfully ignorant of the way I had felt about her for years until I made that joke last summer. I can only imagine how much it had been burning in her head for the past year that I had been tortured in the best way just by being around her.

She dragged me, still in disbelief, to her bedroom and with the pull of a single string on her back, her dress fell away to reveal a prize figure of a woman with no panties and a red lace bra on. I remember taking note of that. No panties. The entire fucking dinner with no panties. I grabbed a handful of her hair at the nape of her neck and turned her around, looking intensely into her eyes before kissing her one good time then pushing her down onto her bed. My button down came off, then my pants were gone too. I stood still for a moment while she looked me over, pausing on my election for a moment and looking at it hungrily.

I'm no stud. Upper end of average. It didn't matter. She had her mouth on my cock in no time and my hands guided her just the way I wanted her to go. From everything we had shared of our sexual history, we had a feel for what each other liked already. She stared into my eyes the way I had dreamed she would, while I pushed against her throat the way she always said she enjoyed. Having a man pounding her tonsils drove her into a sex crazed frenzy. I made it last as long as I dared before pulling her off and throwing her back on the bed.

She stared at me as I climbed on after her, spreading her legs, then strong myself a few times before placing the head of my pulsing member at her entrance. I savored this moment. The unspoken dare she was giving me, saying without words "Do it. Take everything you've wanted all these years. I want you to. Please for the love of God put it in."

After a moments pause, I slowly eased my way into her pussy. There was no resistance. Between her saliva and the sopping wetness between her legs, I was pounding in and out from the get go.

I don't know how long we were at it. It could have been an hour, two hours. It could have been ten minutes. All I know is that I fucked her into oblivion missionary for a long time, then turned her over and drilled her from behind for so long she was practically collapsed into the bed and unable to move, making faint moaning sounds