“Are you even listening?” Lena’s voice snaps me out of my trance. I’ve spent the last half hour studying the line of her thigh — where the hem of her shorts ends and her bare skin begins, warm in the glow of the TV. “Yeah, sure,” I murmur, though I don’t even know what movie is playing. The protagonist is yelling at someone, but the rush of my blood drowns everything out — and the throbbing in my cock, which starts to stir in my jeans.
She turns her head to me, eyes narrowed. “You’re staring again.” Her gaze travels from my eyes down to my crotch, where the bulge is clearly visible. Her breath catches for a moment.
“I’m not.”
“Don’t lie to me, Felix. You’re staring like a teenager seeing a real woman for the first time.” Her tone is mocking, but there’s something soft in her look, a curiosity I can’t decipher. We’ve been friends for eleven years — fought through countless relationships, moves, and job changes. I’ve never looked at her like this. Or she at me — and I’ve never seen her hand resting on her thigh, fingers slowly moving up and down.
“Maybe it’s the movie,” I say quietly, pointing at the screen where two figures are kissing in a dark hallway. Lena laughs, a deep, throaty sound that hits my stomach and leaves a tingle there — and straight in my cock, now hard and heavy in my pants.
“That’s not our movie. Our movie is the silly crime drama from last week, where we guessed who the murderer was.” She leans forward to grab her wine bottle, and her T-shirt stretches over her breasts. I see the outlines of her nipples, hard beneath the thin fabric.
“Right.” I move closer. The gap between us on the couch is only a hand’s width. I smell her shampoo — coconut and something floral, mixed with the scent of her skin. Her breathing is steady, but I see her chest rise and fall, faster than normal. Her nipples are now clearly visible under the fabric.
“Felix?” she whispers. Her face is close to mine now, so close I can see the fine hairs on her cheek, shimmering in the TV light. Her lips are slightly parted, moist.
“Yeah?”
“Tell me what you’re really thinking.” Her hand moves from her thigh to mine, fingers light, a touch that makes me gasp.
The words sit loose. I could make a joke now, break the tension. But something inside me — something urgent, hungry — doesn’t want that. Instead, I lift my hand and place it on her neck. Her skin is warm, soft, pulsing under my fingertips. She doesn’t flinch.
“I’m thinking,” I say, my voice rough, “that I want to fuck you. That I want to stick my tongue in your cunt until you scream.”
Lena’s eyes widen for a split second, then her gaze grows heavy, dark with desire. She nods, barely perceptibly, but enough. “Then do it.”
I lean forward and press my lips to hers. The kiss isn’t gentle — it’s demanding, greedy, my tongue invading her mouth while my hand grips her neck. She moans, opens to me, her tongue dancing with mine. I taste red wine and the sweetness of her lip balm, mixed with something of her own, irresistible. My hand slides lower, over her shoulder, down her arm, until my fingers find her hip, then the fabric of her T-shirt. I pull it over her head.
Her breasts fall free, firm and full, nipples already hard, dark red and stiff. I lean forward and close my lips around one, sucking greedily while my hand massages the other, rolling the tip between thumb and forefinger, squeezing until she cries out. “Yes, Felix, touch me!”
I switch to the other side, biting gently into the hard tip while I roll her nipple between my teeth. Lena whimpers, her fingers clawing into my hair, pulling me tighter against her. “More, please more!”
“Take off your pants,” I command, my voice hoarse with lust. “I want to see your wet cunt.”
She obeys immediately, lifting her hips and sliding off the shorts. Underneath, she wears a narrow black lace thong, through which I can see the damp spot that opens like an invitation — a dark patch slowly spreading. I rip the thong off her hips, and her pussy lies bare — the labia swollen, wet, the slit staring at me like a hungry mouth.
“Lick me,” she whispers. “Please, Felix, lick me.”
I don’t hesitate. I bend between her legs, spread them apart, and lay my tongue on her slit. She’s warm, wet, tasting of salt and something sweet, of her. I lick her from bottom to top, slowly, savoringly, while she trembles beneath me. My tongue finds her clit — hard, swollen, a little knot pulsing under my touch. I circle it, suck on it, until she lifts her hips and screams.
“Yes, right there, oh God, right there!”
I plunge my tongue into her, deep into her moist warmth, tasting her juice that now flows freely. She’s so wet it runs down my chin as I lick her, fuck her with my tongue, opening her pussy wide. Lena moans uncontrollably, her hands grabbing my hair, pulling me deeper into her. “Yes, yes, yes, I’m coming!”
I feel her muscles twitch around my tongue, contracting as she comes on my tongue, hot and salty. I lick her through her orgasm, suck her clit until she shivers and whimpers, until her body relaxes beneath me.
“Your turn,” she says, her voice hoarse. “I want to feel your cock inside me.”
I straighten up, my jeans painfully tight. I undo the button, the zipper, sliding them down with my boxers. My cock stands erect, hard as steel, the glans glistening wet, a pearl of precum at the tip. I’m at least eight inches long, thick and swollen under her gaze. Lena stares at it, the tip of her tongue appearing between her lips, and I see her breath catch.
“My God, Felix, you’re huge,” she whispers. “Come here. Fuck me.”
She leans back, spreading her legs wide. I see her pussy, wet, open, ready, the labia swollen from my tongue. I position myself over her, the tip of my cock at her entrance. For a moment, I hesitate, looking into her eyes. There’s nothing but desire — pure, animal, unguarded.
“Now,” she whispers. “Fuck me.”
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