This story is about two friends, who are just friends, and one of them has a secret they know about the other. Here's a snippet:
She sighed. She could feel the blood filling her cheeks. She knew already where this would go—where it had gone time and time again for almost two years.
Since they came to college, really. Since before he met Lani.
Kailan grimaced. Poor girl. Mind, she had no idea. All her accusations were based on her own broken, shit-colored glasses perspective. All the make-believe flaws she saw in Jared.
But Jared hadn’t done anything. Jared didn’t even realize. This was a part of himself he didn’t know—couldn’t know, really. The creature that surfaced when the lights went out.
Her hands trailed up to her chest, feeling his hand. So strong. Such a tight grip. Even if she tried to pry him off, he—
His hips shifted again, a quiet whimper rising from his lips.
Kailan bit her lip, taking a sharp breath. Her hands trailed down to her hips.
There really was no point putting it off.
Vaguely inspired by a close friend's actual experiences, I have it on good authority that this kind of thing is possible.
Enjoy this, or don't. It's smutty smut smut. Don't read it if you're not at least eighteen, or whatever the legal age is in your country for admitting what you've been doing since you were twelve.
p.s., I'm aware of the formatting issues. I'm too lazy to fix it.
Locking her apartment door behind her, the young woman
yawned tiredly as she left her apartment. Not for the first time, she felt
grateful her close friend’s home was just down the hall from her own, thanks to
the time-saving miracle that was high-end student housing. Squeezing the towel
around her hair, she plodded down the hallway, fuzzy slippers sparing her feet
from whatever fearsome microorganisms lay waiting in the flat green carpeting.
After straightening her baggy Hello Kitty top, she balled
her slender, earthen fingers into a fist. With as much strength as she could
muster, she beat on her friend’s door, intent on scaring the piss out of him.
After a short
delay, the door shot open, a scowl plastered across the resident’s pale,
freckled face. “What the fuck, Kailan? I was taking a nap.” Lanky fingers tried
to rub the sleep from his face, then scratched at disheveled brown hair.
Thin lips twisting
into a cruel smile, she pulled the towel from her head and tossed it over his.
“We’re supposed to watch that stupid documentary, Jared. Remember? The one
about corporate greed, abandoned puppies, and baby seal genocide?”
Tossing the towel
on the floor of his small, but well-equipped kitchen, he gave his visitor a
forced grimace.
She stepped inside,
passing over cold tile until she reached more green carpeting. She flopped
heavily on the couch.
Closing the door
behind her, he shook his head, scratching at his chest through a plain white
t-shirt. “I don’t know if paw print pajamas are the best way to show your
concern for—”
“Abandoned puppies,
man. And you’re wearing jeans? Shut your whore mouth.”
Rolling his eyes,
he stooped down in front of the fridge to remove the strongest liquor he could
find. “I was asleep on the couch. There’s my
concern.”
“I’ll concern your face.” Kailan eyed the arm of the couch,
only to spot a drool stain right next to her hand. Wrinkling her nose, she
scooted straight to the other end of the couch. “I, uh…” She paused, glancing
over her shoulder toward the kitchen. “That Goose?”
“Tanqueray. Two
shots or three?”
She arched an
eyebrow. “Dude, I’m Korean. One. In lots of tonic.”
Jared smirked.
Drinks were poured and promptly delivered. Easing down next to his drool stain,
he took a heavy sip, shuddered, and reached for the TV remote and game system
controller. Both were turned on.
Kailan opened her
mouth to protest his apparent time-wasting intent, only to pause. “Oh, it’s on
Netfucks? Word.”
The boy sighed,
rolling his head back to look at her. “Must you corrupt everything?”
She scoffed,
laughing to herself as the system finished booting. “I’m not the one who dated
the righteous virgin wonder, of all people.”
“Ohhh god,
don’t remind me. Lani called me the other day, from a payphone.”
“Oh, boy. So, uhh… how’s she doing?”
He sighed again, long and heavy. The video service began
to load. “Still crazy. Still accusing me of cheating on her with you.”
Her face screwed up, and she burst out laughing. “Gross!
Oh god! Doesn’t Lani realize she ruined your sex life forever? No one wants to
catch her Derpies Simplex virus.”
Jared buried his face in his palm, groaning loudly, but
when his head rolled to the side his smile betrayed him.
As she caught her breath, Kailan’s face slowly took on a
more serious tone. “Ahh, but I’m sorry she’s still giving you shit. I would
tell you to screen your calls, but that’s a pain in the ass. Hang up next time,
I guess?”
He shrugged, jabbing letters into the on-screen keyboard.
“I mind less than you’d think. I mean, I haven’t seen her in months. It’s not
like she’s here to cause trouble.”
She gave him a look. “So you’re done fucking her?”
He opened his mouth, as if prepared to deny some heinous
accusation, only to slowly deflate. He looked at her, then back at the screen,
finding the film on a drop-down menu. “Yeah.”
She smiled softly. “Good. Because, like… if I were to
make, like, a flow short, and the y-axis showed crazy, and the x-axis was how worth
it getting your dick wet was, I… well, imagine super justified was… you know
what, fuck you, I’m too tired to bother.”
Jared frowned dramatically, sharing his disdain for her
attempted analogy. The movie began to play.
Taking a small sip of her drink, Kailan pointed at the
screen. “What’s this shit about, anyway?”
“You had it the first time. Corporate greed.”
She paused, staring blankly in his general direction,
only to take a huge gulp of her liquor. “Fuck. Can I change my order? How drunk
do I have to be to laugh at Ken Lay?”
Jared smirked, sinking down into the sofa. “Sober.”
* * *
Kailan startled awake. Vision fuzzy, she looked toward
the screen. Credits were rolling. Something felt heavy on her shoulder, and she
realized Jared had fallen asleep on top of her after his third refill.
Goddamnit. How much had they slept through? Always with this stupid class…
Tired eyes trailed around, trying to find the remote and
controller. They were, of course, on the floor by the far end of the couch,
next to his empty glass. God. Damnit. Fuck it, his magical wiistation
three-shitty probably had some kind of green peace power save function, anyway.
She shut her eyes again. Sinking down, she willed her
feet to the couch, weaving her legs between his to spare her knees in the
morning. In moments, she was gone again.
* * *
She could see his
face. His smile. Something about it seemed foreign. Wrong. She wasn’t supposed
to be seeing it, anymore. How long had it been?
He was behind her,
holding her. His arms wrapped around her chest, a hand squeezing her breast.
His breath on her ear felt so right, so familiar, so…
How long since he
passed away?
She could smell it,
here. So real. That stupid designer shampoo that always smelled so nice in his
long, blonde hair. The smell that had lingered on her pillow for so long. The
smell above her when he--
Kailan’s eyes
opened slowly. She blinked, confused for a moment. The room was pitch black.
Was she home? Hadn’t she…
She heard a quiet, incoherent mumble behind her. Felt
hips shifting against her back and something hard pressing against her spine.
Not Gunnar. Jared. Jared was behind her. Sweet, platonic
Jared, his arm clenching her breast and his oversized erection attempting to
penetrate her spinal cord—a coupling she was sure, if successful, would spawn
the world’s first tentacle monster.
His hand squeezed. A soft grunt blew his breath across
her ear.
She shivered. Her eyes were adjusting to the darkness.
The television loomed over them, black, yet still somehow bathing the room in
the faintest glow.
Still on. So much for green. Purple, maybe? Like the
toxic tentacle mons—
Another grunt.
She sighed. She could feel the blood filling her cheeks.
She knew already where this would go—where it had gone time and time again for
almost two years.
Since they came to college, really. Since before he met
Lani.
Kailan grimaced. Poor girl. Mind, she had no idea. All
her accusations were based on her own broken, shit-colored glasses perspective.
All the make-believe flaws she saw in Jared.
But Jared hadn’t done anything. Jared didn’t even realize.
This was a part of himself he didn’t know—couldn’t know, really. The creature
that surfaced when the lights went out.
Her hands trailed up to her chest, feeling his hand. So
strong. Such a tight grip. Even if she tried to pry him off, he—
His hips shifted again, a quiet whimper rising from his
lips.
Kailan bit her lip, taking a sharp breath. Her hands
trailed down to her hips.
There really was no point putting it off.
Carefully, quietly, she reached behind her. She wasn’t
sure why she was always so delicate about this. There was no waking him. She’d
tried, the first time. Lain there for hours, trying to pull his hands away,
trying to wake him up in some proper, dignified way. Stayed quiet and still,
awake, for eight long hours, until his four screaming alarms roused him from
his slumber.
She couldn’t wake him. It wouldn’t work.
Grasping the button to his jeans, she pried it loose.
Pulled the zipper down. Grasped the waistband, both of his jeans and his boxers.
She had decided it was a fluke. That she simply would be
more careful, and not fall asleep on top of him, again.
Then the party. The alcohol.
She pulled down, wriggling his coverings either way until
she’d pulled them down below his rear.
A hungry sound left his lips. One of his hands slid
lower, to the skin of her belly, wrapping around her bare side where her shirt
had ridden up. His hips rocked forward again, pressing his bare erection
against her naked spine.
She’d been too drunk to think straight, but too sober to
forget. His hands had crawled up and down her torso, feeling and squeezing,
lacking the closest thing to inhibition. Her body had been primed hours prior.
The act was a blur, a mess.
Her hands reached for her pajamas. Raising her hips, she
slid her own coverings, panties and all, down to her knees. Pulling those
forward, she slipped them off over her slippers, dropping them to the floor.
He wouldn’t wake up. He hadn’t woken the third time,
either. When she had fallen asleep on his lap, by accident. On purpose.
When he had groped her chest, run his fingers through her
hair. Pressed his hips against her face.
Her hips moved back, his hot length falling between her
thighs as she pressed her moisture against his stomach.
A clumsy hand slid down, clenching her hip as his hips
rocked forward. Sharp and eager, sliding harmlessly across her folds.
With a heavy shudder, she hesitated. Bit her lip again.
Reached down, grasping the tip of his rigid flesh and guiding it to her
entrance.
The fourth time, she had resolved again to be careful.
She had kept her distance. She had crashed on his couch, while her roommates
had a loud party. She had a test in the morning.
He had emerged from the bedroom, eyes open, body
completely bare. Acknowledged her with a nod. Lumbered to the fridge.
Her curiosity had propelled her. As he poured a glass of
milk, she had placed a hand on his shoulder. He turned to face her. Called her
‘Lani’. Ran a hand up the back of her head, and clenched her hair.
Pushed her against the island.
Another deep breath. She pressed her hips down. Eased his
flesh between her swollen lips. She allowed herself a quiet gasp, even as she
spread her thighs. The foot above came to rest behind his knees.
His grip on her chest, her hip, tightened. His hips
rocked forward, a loud gasp finding her ear.
As her hips rose, she grasped the hand on her hip with
both hands. As she eased back down, she tugged roughly at his fingers, three
times, four, until some distant part of his mind understood. His hand slid
between her thighs. His fingers began to make tight circles.
Her head craned back, her hands reaching back to touch
his hair.
It wasn’t long before he had taken over. Before primitive
instinct had found his fingers, his toes, his thighs. His body reeled against
hers, blind to her needs, her desires, even her presence.
He was serving only one. She was simply a vessel.
She pressed back, all too eager, wishing in the back of
her mind that she, too, could find that place. That she could forget about her
guilt. That she could blame some part of her that wasn’t her.
But it was her. Her hips, rocking back and forth. Her
lips, beginning to loose profanity upon the empty room. Her depths, filling
with the most wonderful heat, swelling and churning and pulsing with desire.
Her climax, clenching her folds tight around his shaft,
curling her toes and pulling his hair.
The night blurred. At some point, she had turned around. Her
body had risen above his, straddling his hips, her own sinful flesh impaling
itself with his again and again. Her body seized a second time, a third. By the
time she heard his breath turn ragged, his warning clear, she had lost count.
Clumsily, limply, she let her knees find the floor. Head
stooping over his lap, she took a moment to savor the scent on his skin. His
need and hers, intertwined, as though two animals had done what simply came
natural. She told herself that’s all it was, even as her lips engulfed his
flesh.
Even as his body went rigid. Even as his seed, hot and
sticky and incriminating, burst free. Even as she swallowed the evidence.
She found her discarded clothing. Dipping into her pajama
pocket, she found her phone. The light burst through the room, illuminating the
nearby coffee table.
She grabbed a handful of tissue. Turned the light to his
groin. Carefully removed the mess.
The tissue was disposed of. Slowly, clumsily, she pulled
her clothes back into place. Yanked his jeans back up his hips. Crawled back
onto the couch.
His body didn’t stir. Pulling his arm over her middle,
she pressed her head against his chest.
In moments, she was asleep.
* * *
His heavy yawn woke her from her slumber.
Blinking away the morning light, she groaned quietly.
“Fuuuuck. I hate these windooows.”
He groaned, wiggling his fingertips, only to pull them
away from where they’d fallen. “Shit, sorry. Wasn’t trying to feel you up.”
Slowly sitting up, he let her weary form fall limply against the couch cushion.
She rolled her eyes, pulling her feet away from his lap
so he could get up. “Oh, god. Jared
copped a feel. What a bad, bad man.”
His face turned toward hers. His eyes narrowed, and for a
moment, he lingered. “A horrible man. Who does terrible things to his poor
unsuspecting friends.”
Her heart jumped in her throat. A desperate search for a
witty remark failed her. It was too early for that.
Jared’s face screwed up, a loud laugh shaking his
shoulders. “The hell is with your face? You know I’m kidding.”
She smirked, rolling her eyes even as she hid the tremble
in her fingertips. “Get your ass-face off the couch. I’m not getting up until you
cook breakfast.”
He groaned, standing slowly. He winced, pulling his
shoulders back with a pop. “Urgh. I feel like hell. I think that couch is
poison.”
“Or maybe it’s the Derpies virus. Make some eggs. I’m
going to sleep.”
Scoffing, he pulled open the fridge. “Don’t make another
mess.”
She blinked. Sitting up slowly, her eyes narrowed. “What…
preposterous accusations are you leveling, sir?” Her toes curled below her.
“Another? You speak as though I am a blob, who leaves messes wherever I lie.”
He smirked. “More of a three-toed sloth. I’m worried
about moss.”
She scowled, flopping limply back onto the couch and
raising a middle finger over the back. “I’ll shove my moss straight up your ass
if you don’t cook me some damn eggs.”
The stove clicked, then produced flame. He slammed down a
pan. “EGGS ARE HAPPENING, WOMAN. TURN THE MOVIE BACK ON. WE MISSED IT. WOMAN.”
“Uurrrgghhh.” Sitting back up, yet again, she slowly
flopped to the other side of the couch. She scooped the controller off the
floor and powered on the system. “Fiiiine.”
The sound of sizzling rose from the kitchen. “Over easy,
right? Just like you?”
“I will rape your face with my strap-on, Jared.”
“You have a strap-on?”
She sighed, mashing the same button over and over as she
waited for things to load. “Yes. Just for you.”
* * *
“Uughh, that was awful.”
“Kailan, you think everything that doesn’t explode is
awful.”
Standing up from the couch with a loud yawn, she nodded
tiredly. “Because it is.”
“You off to write your paper, then?” He followed suit,
motioning toward the door.
She frowned. “I… yeah. I hope they haven’t trashed the
place. Jessie’s okay but I hate her friends so, so, so very much.”
Jared smiled quietly, following Kailan to the door.
“Well, look. The RA never comes by here. Ever. You know you could… probably
just move in here, if you want. I still have Mike’s key.”
She paused in the doorway, giving him a pensive glance.
“That… sounds kind of nice, but… I don’t know. Wouldn’t that be kind of
awkward? There’s one bathroom, and I know you sleepwalk. Naked. God, remind me
to wear one of those gaudy night masks next time I sleep over on purpose.”
He rolled his eyes. “I could wear boxers to bed, you
know.”
She smirked. “You might still put an eye out.”
His cheeks flushed red, and he sighed heavily. “Look,
seriously, the offer is on the table if you want it. All potential awkward
naked moments aside, I think it’d be fun.”
She smiled softly. “I’ll think about it, okay?”
“Alright. Lemme know. I’ll have to clear some of Mike’s
leftover shit out. Been too lazy.”
She nodded, then motioned toward the end of the hall.
“Whelp. Gotta go write a shitty paper about a shitty movie. I’ll let you know
if I decide whether or not I trust you enough to stay there.”
He paused, visibly
grasping for words. “I… trust me?”
“You know. Whether
or not you’re just… waiting to install
cameras in my room or something. I know you. Pervert.”
With a loud groan,
he took a step back, grasping the door. “Goodbye, Kailan.”
“Byy—“
The door slammed
shut in her face.
Another evening
that never happened. Kailan smirked.
On the other side
of the door, so did Jared.
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