“Oh Lord, won’t you buy me a Mercedes Benz? My friends all drive Porsches, I must make amends.”

Dear God, she was at it again. I never could understand what Jason saw in that girl. For some reason, Cynthia (never Cindy, as she was quick to point out to the unsuspecting) felt that everyone else was put on this Earth to pamper her every request. And my dear, beloved, lunkheaded GUY of a best friend continued to perpetrate the myth. I knew more about Jason than he probably knew about himself. Being best friends and next-door neighbors with someone since 2nd grade would do that for a person. I knew that he could shoot free throws alone for hours when he was upset. I knew that he liked cold spaghetti sandwiches. I even knew when he lost his virginity to Jane Matheson in the 7th grade. The attraction to Cynthia I did NOT understand however.

Okay, that’s not fair. I *did* know what part of the attraction was. Cynthia was one of those cute, tiny little women that men feel the automatic need to pick up, cuddle and protect from the big bad world. Cynthia, of course, played up to this with her “poor, helpless me” routine. Maybe I was just jealous. At 5’10” with flaming red hair and a frankly curvy body, I was no one’s idea of cute. The fact that I also played volleyball and could spike Cynthia over the net also meant that I was not deemed helpless. The last time I was picked up and cuddled, I was 6 - and the man was my Daddy.

“But honey dumpling (honey dumpling?!), all our friends are over at the mall. Why do we have to be here? It’s so boring!”

If you couldn’t already guess, the one whining is Cynthia. ‘Here’ is our school’s annual county fair-slash-fund raising event. It’s the school’s twisted 1950’s take on fundraising for the clubs. You know the type. Booths selling everything from pies and pickled eggs to a dunking booth. Since volleyball isn’t exactly an alumni favored sport, our team had a booth selling homemade cookies and kisses. As Jennifer, one of our best blockers and a really good friend, said, “Either way we’re giving the customer something sweet - and we’re going to make ‘em pay through the nose for it, too!”

“I’ve told you. It’s for a good cause. Just because the school supports the basketball team doesn’t mean we should forget the other teams and clubs. Besides...if you’re good, I’ll win you a stuffed teddy bear in the Hoops game.”

I rolled my eyes at that one since the only type of teddy bear Ms. Cynthia would accept would have to be covered in mink. I couldn’t help but grin though at the typical Jason comment about supporting the other teams. Despite being 6’ tall, popular, and the basketball teams star forward; Jason always had a soft spot in his head for the little guy. I used to tease him that had he been born a few hundred years earlier, he would have traveled the countryside looking for maidens to rescue and dragons to slay.

“Worked hard all my lifetime, no help from my friends. So Lord, won’t you buy me a Mercedes Benz?”

Cynthia had been complaining about coming to the school fundraiser since I picked her up. A constant half hour of complaints interspersed with gossip on who was sleeping with who was starting to wear thin. Besides, I enjoyed the fundraisers. Sure they were corny, but they really were for a good cause. As my best friend Lizzie always joked, “Principal Peterson apparently watched too many episodes of Leave it to Beaver as a child. He has a warped view of reality 50 years later.” Lizzie was part of the reason I was so interested in the fundraiser. Look, I know that life isn’t fair. The basketball team, like the football and baseball teams, was school sponsored. Alumni practically threw money at the school for these sports. Having a close personal friend on the volleyball team though made me more aware than most just how little money was available for anyone in one of the redheaded stepchild sports. So I did my little part by going to the fundraiser and losing a few dollars for a good cause.

“But Jason....”

I could see the storm clouds approaching with the way she said my name. “Cynthia, we’re here to support our school.” That came out a little harsher than I intended so I tried to soften my tone and added, “We’ll only stay a little while and then we’ll go to the mall. Okay?” Her brow unknotted itself partway and she gave a short nod.

I knew Cynthia wasn’t exactly happy with that, but quite frankly I was finding it hard to care. We had been dating for a couple of months. To be honest, I think we only continued to date due to habit. Cynthia enjoyed the habit of being seen on an athlete’s arm and I enjoyed the habit of having her there. Was it a fulfilling relationship? Let me put it this way.... have you ever had an éclair? It looks really mouthwatering, but once you’ve taken a few bites, you realize that there is nothing but air and calories in the middle.

Looking around, I finally spotted the volleyball team’s booth. And immediately started laughing. Some wisenheimer had tacked up a sign proclaiming “Cookies and Kisses. $3 each. Ask about our cute guy discount.” It was a toss-up whether Jennifer or Lizzie had made the sign. Knowing the two of them together, I was betting that Jennifer came up with the slogan, but Lizzie actually got her (and the coach) to put it up. Jennifer and Lizzie together had more mischief brewing inside than an entire class of 10-year-old boys with frogs.

I was still smiling when we approached the booth. And Lizzie. I wasn’t sure I’d ever get used to the jolt my senses gave every time I saw her. Suppressing the emotion wasn’t getting any easier with time either. But I did it. Over and over since about the 6th grade when I realized that Lizzie was a girl. For the sake of friendship.

“McIntyre! Did you remember to bring your credit cards?” shouted Lizzie.

Yep. That was my Lizzie.

“Oh Lord, won’t you buy me a color TV? Dialing for Dollars is trying to find me.”

I had to make some sort of smart aleck comment. It’s what I did and maybe that would help me to remember that I’m Jason’s friend. And ONLY his friend. As evidenced by the girl friend scowling at me from the vicinity of his right arm. I sighed internally, but decided to play nice.

“Hi, Cynthia. Enjoying yourself?”

Cynthia just gave a flat stare in my direction and then declared, “This is boring, Jason. There’s no one here! I’m going to go call Mary and tell her we’re coming to the mall.” With that statement, she just walked away. Ah well. No loss there as far as I was concerned, but I was wondering how Jason would react. I should have known.

“I’m sorry Lizzie. That was rude and uncalled for. I don’t know what’s gotten into her lately.” Jason was frowning in the direction of his defected girlfriend so didn’t see me rolling my eyes.

I knew what the problem was but decided that discretion was the better part of valor and left it unsaid. “So Mr. McIntyre...did you come for the cookies, company or kisses?” I teased. “Any way you go it’s going to cost you.”

That got the infamous McIntyre grin that was guaranteed to fell beauties at 20 paces. I’d been the recipient of that grin many times throughout our lives without it affecting me at all. I wasn’t sure that I liked the fact that I was noticing Jason’s grin now. I’d always known Jason was good looking. He wasn’t handsome by popular definition, but he certainly had presence. His features were regular with slightly plump lips that he claimed embarrassed him. His truly outstanding feature though - the one that had girls in the hallway at school swooning - were his eyes. Emerald green and crystal (pardon the pun) clear. When Jason focused on you, you felt that you were the only person in his world. Now those eyes were pointed my direction.

Leaning close enough to give my heart a jolt, Jason stared at my lips for a long moment before slowly raising his eyes to mine. I couldn’t decipher the look in his eyes and decided I was entirely too terrified to try. I would have backed up a few steps had my legs been in working order.

“Your kisses are too precious to give away for a mere $3, Lizzie.” Then the look was suddenly gone and my pal Jason was back. “But I will take some cookies. Macadamia and white chocolate, please. You know I can’t have a monster marathon without cookies.”

It took me a moment, but I was finally able to come back. “I know you can’t. I still remember the time I made the mistake of bringing over a pizza instead. Jeez. I’d never realized a guy could be that big of a crybaby just over some cookies. I still can’t believe you whined until I baked some.” I laughed.

Jason and I had been having our Monster Marathon nights at least one Saturday a month since we were 10 and developed a mutual passion for bad B movies. It was an unusual interest for two 17 year olds, but it was an ingrained habit by this point. I think I’d been baking him cookies for about that long too.

“Hey,” Jason held up his hands, “I helped you, didn’t I?”

“Uh-huh. As I recall, you ‘helped’ by eating the cookies as fast as they came out of the oven. I think I’ll just hold on to this bag and bring them over myself.” I couldn’t resist one last dig, “At least this way I know that they’ll make it to the marathon.”

Jason just grinned and dug out his wallet.

That’s when I had a thought. Glancing over to where Cynthia was still on the phone I said, “Jase...are you sure about tonight? Don’t you think you should make up with Cynthia? She does look kind of pissed right now.”

Pissed was an understatement. Cynthia was now off the phone, but had both arms crossed under her breasts and was glaring at me. As soon as Jason turned in her direction, her expression smoothed and she headed our way.

While still looking at Cynthia I thought I heard him mutter, “I don’t care.” But as he turned to me all he said was, “Don’t worry about it. Usual time, okay?” Then he casually leaned over and gave me a quick kiss to the lips. I think my heart stopped. I know that my mind did. All I could think was “YES!” while my hormones broke into the Hallelujah chorus. I just stared in shock as he walked away to meet Cynthia.

We had been friends for a very long time. So, of course, we had kissed before. But it was always on the cheek and, on one memorable occasion, when I broke my arm falling out of our tree house, my elbow. The point is it was always friendly but businesslike. This kiss was...moist. And hot.

When I finally regained enough sense to take in my surroundings, I found my friend Jennifer standing next to me with a triumphant expression on her face. I couldn’t help it. I blushed. All she did though was give me a hug and say, “About time.”

I must have looked confused because Jennifer laughed.

“What? You think no one has ever noticed?” she said. “It’s been obvious for years that you and Jason were in love with one another. We’ve had a bet going for a long time about the date that the two of you would finally figure it out.”

My mind really blanked at that statement. “But,” I stuttered, “We’re not...I mean, I know what it looks like...Jason just...that is...it’s nothing.” I finally regained my senses enough to explain, “It was just a friendly kiss. It didn’t mean anything. You know we’re just friends.” I had to believe that.

Jennifer just gave me a pitying look and, thankfully, dropped the subject. The rest of the afternoon passed uneventfully with our booth racking up equal amounts of money for kisses as cookies. It was $300 we desperately needed for new equipment and uniforms. It was also 3 hours I used to rationalize a kiss that made my lips tingle into being merely friendly. Yeah, right. Friendly.

===end Chapter===

“I wait for delivery each day until three. Oh Lord, won’t you buy me a color TV?”

I don’t know what came over me, but I did not regret kissing Lizzie. Well, I did regret that it was so short. I really regretted doing it in front of Cynthia. Not because I was sorry for kissing Lizzie - not at all. I’d wanted to do that for years! Cynthia herself made me sorry with her ranting and raving and wild accusations. When I finally suggested that perhaps it would be best if we didn’t see each other anymore, she had a major shift of personality. She became weepy. I did NOT like a weepy woman. Too many years around my manipulative mother had made me immune to a woman’s tears. I’ve seen it too many times...a woman doesn’t get what she wants and so she turns on the waterworks. Cynthia had just picked the wrong feminine trick to use on me. Which she realized after about 5 minutes. Then came the yelling.

I have to admit that I was impressed. Cynthia used words I wasn’t sure she even knew the definition of. Lord knew she displayed more passion during her diatribe than during the few times I had gotten her pants off of her. When she finally flounced out of my car, slamming the door and yelling that she never wanted to see me again, I was glad to be rid of the theatrics.

When I finally got home I went to lie on my bed and think about things. Look, I knew that I’d been attracted to Lizzie for years. But being attracted in silence and kissing the object of your attraction were two entirely different things. When I was still a horny 14 year old I had decided that if I ever had the opportunity to screw Lizzie, I was going to do it. No regrets. No backing out. No questioning it. As an admittedly still horny 17 year old, I had different thoughts. Would I still like to screw Lizzie? Abso-fucking-lutely. Just give me a week alone with her and several boxes of condoms and I might - MIGHT - calm down enough to just want her 3 times a day.

I also wanted to make love to her. Slowly and thoroughly. I wanted to kiss the freckles across her nose. More telling, I wanted the right to cuddle her AFTER kissing the freckles across her nose. Did that scare me? You betcha. Lizzie and I had been friends since I moved here in the 2nd grade. We had been through chicken pox, puberty, and broken bones together. Lizzie knew every embarrassing thing that had ever happened to me. Heck, she had even caused a few of them. I trusted her with my life.

My mom was not exactly June Cleaver. She was an alcoholic for one thing. Some days she would be just fine. Those days, unfortunately, were few and far between. Most days she could be found in a drunken stupor just lying around the house. Apparently Dad was a disappointment to her. I’m assuming the bottle wasn’t. The few times Dad got up the nerve to dump Mom’s liquor, she would cry on his shoulder about her hard life until he gave in and gave her back her amnesiac. Don’t get me wrong. I love my Dad. He was an A+ person. I just wish he’d get Mom help instead of acting as if her problem will magically go away.

The point is that with my family history, I’m not predisposed to trust women. After all, my example of womanhood comes from a manipulative, drunken wreck of a woman. But Lizzie snuck in under my radar. She was there from the time we moved into our house. She’s always been there. She’s one of the few people who know about my Mom. Do I love her? Yes. I always have. First as a friend - now as more. The question was what was I going to do about it? I guess I was about to find out. I had kissed her. Humpty Dumpty had fallen off the wall. “And all the King’s horses and all the King’s men couldn’t put Humpty together again” finished the rhyme in my head. So be it. Prepare yourself, Mary Elizabeth Carrigan.

“Oh Lord, won’t you buy me a night on the town? I’m counting on you, Lord, please don’t let me down.”

I walked into Jason’s house just like I always had. I’d managed to convince myself that Jason had only kissed me as a friend. I was a little disappointed, sure, but I knew it was for the best. Did I really want to lose the best - and longest - friendship I had over a romantic entanglement that I knew would end in a couple of months.

I knew Jason and his history with women. He wasn’t what you would call a player, but he certainly never lacked companionship of the female kind. They were always nice girls (the one exception being Cynthia) but they also lasted a maximum of 2 months. His relationships were light, flirty and brief. I even understood why. I’d had a long relationship with Jason only because I knew it was just friendship and didn’t try for anything more. I also knew all his secrets. That sort of kills the ‘mystique’ in a new relationship.

So I was there to merely watch movies. With my pal. Just like we always did. I gave a quick “Hi” to Mr. McIntyre and headed straight to the door that led to the basement. Mr. McIntyre had finished the basement for Jason’s private use. He knew that it was embarrassing to bring home friends when your mother was passed out in the middle of the living room, so he finished the basement - with its outside access - and gave it to Jason for his 14th birthday.

Since Jason and I had been friends for longer than that, my pattern was to come through the kitchen door before heading down to the basement. Besides...I liked Mr. McIntyre. He had a dry sense of humor that could crack me up in no time. Just because his wife was a lush was no reason for me to stop associating with him. So I gave my traditional Hi and wandered down to the basement. Where I proceeded to have a mini-heart attack.

Jason had his back to me, bending down to shove a dumbbell under his bed. Did I mention that he was wearing old sweats cut into shorts? And nothing else! My heart just about stopped watching the old fabric mold to his butt. His back was a sweaty work of art and I think I drooled a little before catching myself. Standing on the bottom step, I grabbed the railing to keep myself from falling down. I had seen Jason work out before. Heck, I used his weights regularly myself during the volleyball season.

I hated that my body was betraying me like this. I’d had no problem ignoring the majority of boys that came on to me. But one little kiss, that probably didn’t mean anything, from my best friend and I fall apart. I was disgusted with myself. I gave myself a short stern lecture on friendship before finally coming into the room.

I swallowed hard but was finally able to manage a credible smirk to go with my nonchalant act.

“Jason, you stud. Is this manly display for my benefit?” I said.

Jason gave out a bark of laughter and turned around, toweling himself off.

“No,” he said, “You caught me working off some frustration. Although,” here he flexed his arm, “if it works on you...”

I laughed and came in far enough to drop the bag of cookies on the coffee table and myself onto the couch.

“Not a chance, McIntyre. You know I’m immune to your...err, charms. I still remember when you were a mere 90-pound weakling.”

Jason faked a pout before replying. “Now Lizzie. You know I was never a 90-pound weakling. 95 pounds, sure. But never 90.”

It was a familiar exchange and I found myself relaxing once again. Jason came over with the remote control in his hands and dropped onto the couch next to me. He put his arm around me and hugged me close before turning on the TV and VCR. I relaxed into him as the opening credits came on for “The Beast of Yucca Flats”. An oldie, but a goodie and Jason and I intoned together, “Nothing bothers some people. Not even flying saucers.” before breaking up.

We settled down to watch the movie with me leaning slightly against Jason. He never removed his arm from around me, which I must admit, distracted me from the movie. I kept sneaking little glances up at his profile. Of all people, why was Jason affecting me like this...and why now? My thoughts distracted, I almost jumped out of my skin when he started stroking my arm. Damn that felt good! And I knew that if I let it go on I would soon be a red puddle on his sofa. No way could I let him see what he was doing to me. Jason would be mortified that our friendship had turned on him.

Jumping up, I blurted out, “I’m going to get a soda. Y’want one?” The last said from the safety of the stairs.

Jason just gave me a quizzical look. “No thanks. But Lizzie...there are drinks in the mini-fridge.” With that, he got up and walked over to the little dorm fridge on the opposite side of the room from where I was standing practically hyperventilating.

I couldn’t do this anymore. I was practically a shaking basket of lust. For my best friend! Worse, it was turning me into a scared rabbit. I was NEVER a scared rabbit. I was bold. I was unconventional. I was sassy. I was Mary Elizabeth Carrigan and I had never backed down from anything or anyone. Sure I was still a virgin, but did I have to act like it?

With this pep talk in mind, I straightened my back and blurted out, “Jason, what’s going on here?” I must admit that I kept my hand wrapped securely around the stair railing while saying this.

“A Monster Marathon?” he joked. Turning around with a Sprite in his hands, Jason just looked at me for a long moment before dropping the humor and sighing.

I continued to just watch him as he walked over to the sofa and dropped onto it. Rolling the dewy Sprite between his palms for a moment, Jason finally raised his head and speared me with a glance. I could see resolve hardening his features. I was never more scared in my life. But with my pep talk to myself, I couldn’t run away now.

Never breaking his stare, Jason pushed himself to his feet and slowly walked over to the staircase where I was standing. With careful fingers, he tucked my hair behind my ear and trailed it down my jaw. I couldn’t help myself. I shivered. That must have been the signal he was looking for though because he finally answered my question.

“Lizzie,” he whispered, “I want you.” With more strength in his voice, he continued. “I’ve wanted you for years. I will probably always want you.”

It was everything I’d ever wanted to hear. So, of course, I didn’t believe it.

“As a friend....” I muttered.

At that statement, Jason grabbed my chin and forced me to look directly into his eyes.

“No. Well, yes. Always as a friend. But also as a lover. MY lover. I want to lick every inch of your body. I want to find every erogenous zone on your body and make it scream. I want to nibble on your clit until YOU scream. Then I want to bury myself so deeply inside of you that you can’t ever remember what it was like before we joined. Once I’ve done THAT, then I think I’ll start over and do it all again. Hell Lizzie, I want to do things to you that are illegal in most states still.”

I just continued to stare into his eyes, mute. I couldn’t create a single sound if my life depended on it. Even if I could, I’m still not sure what I would have said. My hormones were screaming at me to jump him while my brain was filled with white noise.

Evidently deciding that he had given me enough time to protest, Jason leaned in and kissed me. Dear God did he kiss me. This was nothing like those brief impersonal kisses we had shared all of our life. Where did he learn to kiss like this? I wanted to find the person who taught him and thank them. Later. Much, much later.

He started very gently with whisper licks over my lips. Just letting me get used to the feel of him. His tongue traced the bow of my lip and then teased the corners. When my lips opened on a short gasp of air, he took advantage and slowly licked the opening before coming inside. That’s when he stopped being gentle. This was no longer my friend Jason. This was my lover. At that point, I knew it. And I think he did too.

“Prove that you love me and buy the next round. Oh Lord, won’t you buy me a night on the town.”

Lizzie tasted just like I knew she would. Musky and sweet all at the same time. I kissed her on impulse. It was an impulse I was glad to have had. I didn’t want to scare her, but I also had made the decision to stop acting as if I didn’t want her. Lizzie was just going to have to find a way to deal with it. Besides, no way was anything prying me off of her lips now that I had them beneath mine. Unless, of course, it was to move on to other areas of her body.

I admit to going just a bit crazy as soon as I got inside her mouth. I wanted to taste all of her all at once. It didn’t help that Lizzie herself was no longer passive. She was tangling her tongue around mine and making these little moans in the back of her throat. When she started pressing against me, I knew she had seen us as I did. I backed off slightly, still nibbling her lips and running my hands up and down her back. I kept her pressed tight against me.

“I love it that I don’t get a crick in the neck kissing you,” I joked.

Lizzie just opened her eyes and stared at me still a little dazed. I have to admit that did wonderful things for my ego.

No way could I force this any further without Lizzie’s express permission though. I wanted her, yes. But I didn’t want her to regret it later. I most certainly didn’t want it to affect our friendship. I was sincere when I told her that I always wanted her for a friend. I just also wanted her for my lover.

“Lizzie honey,” I stared into her eyes and waited to see them clear just a bit. “Yes or no. You know that I want you. You know HOW I want you. But I won’t force you. I don’t want you to regret this later. So what will it be? You can go home now or you can stay here tonight and let me love you.”

Lizzie’s beautiful amber eyes cleared even more and she looked at me thoughtfully. When mischief crept into her eyes a few seconds later, I really worried. When Lizzie has that look in her eyes, you cannot predict what she’ll do. My doubt must have shown because Lizzie suddenly laughed and squeezed me.

“Take me to bed.” was her only response. And one I was quite willing to go with.

I would like to say that I swept her off her feet and carried her to bed. The reality is that I am a basketball player. And while strong, I was mostly long and lean. Lizzie is also not a petite girl. She’s only a few inches shorter than I am and most of HER is muscle. Instead it was a journey consisting of me grabbing her hand and practically dragging her over to stand next to the bed. That’s when I stopped rushing. No way was I going to rush through something I had waited years for.

I didn’t count on Lizzie though. As soon as we were next to the bed, she put her arms around me and kissed me like she was never going to stop. Fine by me. I lost myself once again in her mouth. I let my hands creep under the back of her shirt in order to stroke her skin. Lizzie has beautiful skin. She also had roaming hands. Her hands were coasting all over my back - tracing the line of my muscles. She was so gentle that it felt like feathers roaming my back and brought a line of goose bumps out on my flesh.

With my hands wedged on either side of her body, I started using my thumbs to tease the edge of her breasts. I traced the line at the bottom of her breasts very delicately and then used my thumbs to draw random patterns on the outside edge. Lizzie sighed into my mouth and pressed a little harder against me. I continued to tease in circles around her nipples every once in a while allowing a thumbnail to scrape over a nipple. Lizzie was starting to pant into my mouth and I really wanted to be able to taste what I’d been feeling.

With a quick twist, I pulled Lizzie’s shirt over her head. Thank you Lizzie for not wearing a bra. I was confronted with the most beautiful breasts it was ever my privilege to put my hands on. They were a very pale white with faint freckles across them. I had the insane urge to kiss every single one of those freckles. Damn what this girl does to me. Her breasts weren’t huge, but they were in proportion to the rest of her. I think she once told me, during some teasing, that she wore a C cup. I wouldn’t know a C cup from a soup cup, but I did know that Lizzie’s tits more than filled my hands and would soon more than fill my mouth.

Taking thought to action, I leaned down and licked each nipple - HARD. I heard Lizzie’s breath catch but I was on a roll. Using the fingers on one hand to roll a nipple between thumb and forefinger, I used my tongue to paint the underside of her other breast. Back and forth and around and around the nipple I went, never touching it. Switching back and forth between breasts. By now Lizzie was pushing her tits at me and starting to moan. Finally, I latched my mouth over her nipple and sucked strongly while humming. I think it was the vibration on her nipple that put her over the edge. Lizzie gave a loud moan and started to shake while holding my shoulders hard enough to leave marks. I didn’t care. Watching Lizzie lose herself like this was enough payback for me.

I gave one last lick to each nipple and, while Lizzie was still out of it, laid her back on the bed and quickly stripped off her shorts and panties in one fell swoop. I think my heart stopped at the sight of her - in MY bed - laid out like a pagan sacrifice. No way was I stopping now. Kneeling next to the bed, I started to gently stroke every inch of her body. Lizzie was now watching me with a lazy expression in her eyes, but made no move to stop me. Good thing too since I wasn’t sure I could stop.

I was very serious when I told Lizzie that I wanted to lick every inch of her. Soon my tongue started following the path of my hands. I nibble-licked my way up her legs and onto her belly. After dipping my tongue briefly in her belly button, I worked my way up to her still damp breasts. Each tit got a quick suck before I moved on to Lizzie’s lips. That’s when I took my time. Not only did I want to remember this for a long time to come, but I wanted to make sure that Lizzie remembered this for a long time to come.

I made love to her mouth while my hands continued to stroke her breasts. Finally I worked one hand down to her pussy. To say she was sopping wet was a misnomer. She was drenched and every little touch had her gasping and moving her hips. I loved how responsive Lizzie was to everything I did. Never had a girl responded so strongly to the least little action. Whereas Lizzie had been sated and quiet just a little bit ago, now she was moaning and gasping and working her pelvis against my hand. And I wasn’t anywhere near finished with playing with her.

With that thought in mind, I gave her lips one last kiss and started moving my head back down her body. When I reached her thighs, I just laid my head on one thigh and breathed her scent in. Lizzie had one hand in my hair, stroking gently, and I spared her one glance before kissing my way up her pussy lips. Using just the tip of my tongue, I started licking up her labia and up and over her clit. That got a reaction - a loud squeal - from Lizzie. I did this 5 or 6 times before pulling back and using my fingers. I used feather light strokes before slowly inserting my finger. Lizzie was very wet but also very tight so I tried to go slow. I corkscrewed my finger in and then out of her a few times before trying to wedge a second finger in. The entire time Lizzie was moaning and moving her hips in time with my thrusts.

After getting my second finger in Lizzie’s pussy, I leaned down and started licking her clit. Lizzie was starting to loosen up a bit and I was finally able to curl my fingers upward and drag my fingertips across her G spot. At the same time I clamped my lips around her clit and sucked. Lizzie’s keening wail would have done a banshee proud. I had a hard time keeping my fingers in her with the way she was bucking and moving around. Just as she started to come down, I dragged my fingernails across her G spot one last time. It obviously wasn’t as intense an orgasm as the first, but it certainly made an impression.

I moved quickly while Lizzie was still high. I knew she was a virgin and did not want her to suffer at my hands. While I wasn’t sure I could avoid hurting her all together, I did know that if she was very wet (which she most assuredly was!) and hopefully distracted by an orgasm, she would feel very little pain.

Quickly rolling on a condom, I fit the head of my dick against her pussy lips and pushed. While I wasn’t the most endowed creature on the planet, I sported a very respectable 7” that. Even as wet as Lizzie was, I was having a hard time getting past her opening. Finally I managed to get the head just inside of her and began to inch my way all the way in. It was hard to keep from just thrusting hard and rutting like an animal. Lizzie was tight and wet and hot and I thought I had died and gone to heaven. It didn’t help that Lizzie was moving her hips in little circles.

Finally I reached her hymen. Taking a deep breath, and praying that Lizzie would feel very little pain, I thrust past it in a rush. One small squeak from Lizzie and then just moans. Mine and hers. I was finally fully seated inside her and I know that my eyes rolled back in my head. As much as I wanted to take this really slowly, there was no way that was going to happen with Lizzie squeezing my dick and moving her hips against me. So I started thrusting. Long strokes in and long strokes out. Every time I hit bottom I got a squeak and a growl from Lizzie.

Because I knew that I wasn’t going to last long inside of her now ex-virgin opening, I reached down and started to tug at her clit. The reaction was immediate and much more intense than I expected. Lizzie screamed. Loudly. Then she went wild bucking up and down on me. No way could I be expected not to cum with all that going on. I wrapped my arms around her and blasted my cum inside her.

Finally I collapsed and tried to relearn breathing. At least I had the presence of mind to collapse next to Lizzie. Even though she’s a big girl, I outweighed her by around 50 pounds and didn’t want to crush her. I also wasn’t about to let her away from me so I tugged her next to me and cuddled her close.

“Oh Lord, won’t you buy me a Mercedes Benz? My friends all drive Porsches, I must make amends. Worked hard all my lifetime, no help from my friends. So Lord, won’t you buy me a Mercedes Benz?”

Wow. So that’s what I was missing. My body was still tingling and was sending signals that it wouldn’t mind doing THAT again. I had to agree. Damn. I don’t know if Jason was just that good, but he had me seeing colors that I don’t think existed.

Honestly, I expected it to hurt a LOT more. I was a virgin - emphasis on the was - but I wasn’t an idiot. I’d heard other friends talk about losing their virginity and I *knew* that this was special. Jason was so gentle and boy did he know the spots to hit that would make me sit up and beg. I was eager for more. And that worried me. Despite everything I was still scared of losing a friend and gaining only a short dalliance, for lack of a better word.

There was also Cynthia. I could have kicked myself for not remembering her earlier. I did NOT steal other people’s boyfriends. Damn. No point in sticking your head in the sand, girl.

“What about Cynthia?” I blurted out.

We were spooning with Jason’s arms around me lightly stroking up and down my arms when I asked. I couldn’t see his expression, but I did hear his laugh. Then he was kissing my shoulder and turning me over. I got one quick glimpse at his face before he was kissing me breathless. I don’t know what I said to deserve that, but I’d happily do it again.

Jason and I were both slightly breathless when he stopped to say, “Don’t worry about Cynthia. She and I broke up this afternoon.”

Still holding me down and looking into my eyes, Jason continued. “Lizzie...Cynthia has nothing to do with this. I was never serious about her and she was never serious about me. She enjoyed being with a basketball player and that was it. The thrill had been gone for while already.”

Dropping to kiss the end of my nose, Jason kept going. “You I’m serious about.”

I just wrinkled my nose at that and started a “But....” that never went anywhere.

“I mean it,” Jason interrupted. “Lizzie, I told you that I’ve wanted you for years. I wasn’t lying. I’ve been in love with you since we were 12 years old. Didn’t you ever wonder why every girl I’ve ever dated has only lasted a short time?”

“Ummm.” I never got to finish.

“It’s because they weren’t YOU!” Jason shook me slightly to emphasis his point. “I’ve been waiting and waiting for you to notice me - the boy next door. I guess I got tired of waiting.” The last was said sheepishly.

I had no idea what to say to that. Well, actually I did. The question was did I have the courage to do it. I was in love with my best friend. I probably had been the entire time we’d been friends. But I managed to shove it into a corner of my heart and lock it away, afraid that it wouldn’t work. Sure, I hid behind friendship, but I was more afraid of being rejected if I opened myself up to Jason. And here he was opening himself up to me! I was humbled and thrilled and still scared.

I took a deep breath and took the plunge. “I love you, Jason.”

There...I said it. The world didn’t end and I suddenly felt better than I had in a while. Jason just beamed down at me and swooped in for a lingering kiss. I felt like I had been given a brand new Mercedes for no apparent reason.

“I love you too, Lizzie.”