Is This Love?

By Alienor

One night, and everything had changed. We'd been friends for six years, best friends for two, and now we were lovers. I grinned foolishly as I walked back home. But one question remained in my mind: is this love that I'm feeling?

We'd gone to the movies the night before, as we did more or less every week. The film had been so bad I was almost ashamed, as I was the one who had wanted to see it. We'd walked back to his place, stopping on the way to buy a pizza, climbed the six stories to his tiny garret apartment. We sat on his single bed, chatting and drinking tea for hours as usual.

Our two other best friends had left France the year before, one to work in New York, the other in Stuttgart. So now it was just the two of us talking for hours on the phone, going to favorite restaurants, to the movies and whatnot together.

But that night, as we were sitting on his bed, he shifted his legs and nudged my feet with his. I looked up at him, wondering. He was always very careful about avoiding body contact, even apologizing when our hands touched by accident when we walked side by side. I looked into his eyes and he stared back, and held out a hand to me. "Is that what you want?" He nodded in answer. I took his hand and pulled him to me.

We lay back on the bed, face to face, and kissed tentatively. We were 26 and had had affairs before, but this was so utterly new. Tiny kisses, tongues darting, lips nibbling, tasting, discovering. Then we grew ravenous. Our mouths devoured, our hands explored the other's body. His slim, taut muscles, my curves. I pulled his t-shirt from his jeans to touch his skin, he unbuttoned my shirt and started nibbling at my breasts through my bra. He struggled with the hooks behind my back for a moment. We separated long enough to get rid of our shirts and went back to kissing. Skin to skin. Glorious. Progressively, he nibbled his way down my throat to my tits.

And it was a revelation for me. Until that day, my tits had never been very sensitive. But they chose that night to awaken, and some. I felt each time his tongue laved, his lips suckled, his teeth bit. I moaned and writhed on the bed. As his hands reached the top of my slacks, I sat up and reached for his belt. In an instant, we were naked, lying in each other's arms, mouth to mouth, body to body. It felt so incredibly good. He wedged one of his thighs between mine and I started humping it, my pussy already drenched. I reached for his cock, hard and tight against his flat belly. My hand explored, cradled his balls, then grasped his shaft, my thumb spreading the drops of liquid on the head. He moaned into my mouth, then lifted his head.

"Take your pill today?" I nodded, gasping for air. Best friends and all: he knew I was on the pill, we were both regular blood donors, we both knew the other hadn't been laid for a year or more, nothing more needed to be asked. He grinned, that big toothy grin that was so rare, then I found myself on my back, with my thighs spread wide and my hands pinned to the bed by my shoulders. Don't ask me how: I'm not the one with the judo black belt.

He looked into my eye, quirked an eyebrow, and I nodded. We were both oh so ready. He lowered his hips, I lifted mine, and we found the right spot, first try. He slid in slowly. Oh, the wonderful shock of it. We kissed once more, then we started moving. From there on, my memories are pretty blurry. After an undetermined, but most blissful time, I came and he came. We fell asleep on the wet spot. We woke up a few hours later, just before dawn, enjoying the full body contact. I still felt unbelievably horny. I tried to roll him onto his back - nothing doing. Once again, I found myself on my back, this time with my knees by my shoulders. wHOOEEEe, what a fantastic roller-coster ride: we'd slow down every time we were going to peak; a long, delicious torture. For me, it ended with a continuous series of small orgasms, and I'm pretty sure he was enjoying himself too, but I was beyond paying attention.

I'll skip petty practical details. Let's just say that, when I woke up, the sun was high up in the sky and his cock was high up against my butt. I wriggled a bit, but he seemed to be asleep. So I slid down the bed and got to work to make sure he started his morning right. I arranged the duvet so I wouldn't stifle and started licking his cock slowly. By the time I felt his hand on my cheek, in my hair, I had his balls in one hand, and I was stroking his shaft with the other while sucking on the head of his cock, twirling my tongue around it. I didn't know yet what he liked best, but I intended to find out. It seems I had found it: he barely had the time to wake up before he came. He pulled me up to him and I emerged from the covers smiling, my hair matted and licking my lips. We looked at each other, dazzled by the sun that was streaming in and at loss for words.

We got up slowly, laughing at the unusual pains in our joints and muscles, fixed breakfast, had separate showers (his bathroom was 3 foot square, I kid you not). I borrowed a shirt from him. He had to work that afternoon, I had to go back to my apartment. I wanted to have a nap in a real bed, clean up the place, have a long bubble bath and fix something to eat: he was coming for dinner.

So went our separate ways, kissing briefly (but my knees got so weak) before he took the Métro. I walked home in the sun, my muscles singing. And I wondered still: is this love?

--Fin--

Copyright 2003 by Alienor, all rights reserved