Chapter Four
Though she tugged on the hem of her dress with her right hand, her left hand suddenly dropped to my upper thighs. I gasped a little, my heart racing as her fingers drifted beneath my skirt, inching toward my groin.
I looked up at her. There was such naked want radiating in her gaze that I’d forgotten all about our platonic ideals, or what a physical turn might do to our friendship.
As she eased toward me, I leaned toward her, and we both giggled quietly when we realized we were about to kiss.
It was a small kiss, at least at first. Two pairs of moist lips pressing together tentatively, even nervously.
I slid my left arm around her waist, my fingertips drifting along her bare lower back. I raised my right hand to her cheek, running my thumb along her jawline as her kiss grew deeper, as we both grew hungrier.
I thought back to all the years we’d been best friends and roommates, all the nights we slept mere feet from one another.
I wondered if Morgan had been dreaming, or fantasizing, about this moment as much as I had.
She pressed me back against my seat. Her hand drifted higher along my thigh, her fingers cresting toward my hip, her thumb subtly moving inward, toward the heat between my legs.
Speaking of which, my legs had been crossed a moment ago. At some point, I’d unconsciously uncrossed them, and now I was spreading them wider.
Our lips smacked. Her tongue slid past my teeth, her taste buds pressing against mine. Her breath tasted faintly of beer, plus a mint she’d been sucking on during the drive over.
Her tongue slid deeper, curling against mine. This is what your best friend’s tongue feels like, I thought, something that would have seemed absurd at any other point in our platonic relationship.
Or maybe our relationship has never been as platonic as I thought, came a faint whisper in the back of my mind.
Morgan took my wrist, pulled it from her waist, then guided it between her thighs. Mid-kiss, I felt her lips curve into a smile. She tugged my hand along her panties. Beneath the fabric, I felt the stiff plastic barrier holding her cock at bay.
She let go of my wrist. I pushed my fingers further, drifting along the gusset of her panties, until I felt the narrow lip of the plastic barrier pressing out just over her waistline.
Morgan broke our kiss, but kept close, pressing her forehead against mine. So close the tips of our noses were touching.
“Pull out the plastic if you want, Kay,” she whispered.
I grabbed the plastic lip. Already, I could feel something behind the barrier pressing against it.
Her cock, I thought with a start. Her cock is hard and it’s pressing against the barrier.
I took a deep breath, then a revelation struck me, a notion that made heat bloom between my legs.
Morgan is hard for me, I thought with a bizarre shock. She’s got an erection and it’s because of me.
It was a rush, realizing that. Morgan was so gorgeous, so casually elegant and beautiful. Despite what she’d told me so many times, I’d never considered myself to be on a level with Morgan’s beauty. Not that I was ugly. I knew I wasn’t. But Morgan was different.
I pulled the plastic barrier away. It slipped out of her panties with surprising ease. Her cock jutted outward, straining against her panties. It brushed against my hand as I dropped the plastic barrier.
I even noted a splotch of moisture on her gusset. That alone made my heart stutter. Her cock is already dripping with precum, I thought, my mind reeling.
She pressed her lips to my throat, lightly sucking on my skin, and her hand drifted to my groin. She giggled when she realized my panties were soaked.
“Kay?” she whispered between kisses.
I was stroking her cock through her panties. I squeezed a little, stroked a little harder, then noticed the moist splotch on her panties growing more saturated with her discharge. “Yeah?” I whispered back to her.
“I think we’ve been ‘just friends’ for way too long,” she said, then ran her tongue along my throat, licking her way up to my earlobe. She closed her lips around it, the breath escaping her nostrils hot against my ear, her wet lips working my earlobe with a subtle, soft eagerness.
But a question lingered.
I stroked her again, from tip to root. “What was that you were saying about medicine?” I asked.
She grunted, suddenly trembling against me. Her cock pulsed in my grip, like fresh blood had just rushed into it. It pulsed and tensed and suddenly grew, the girth expanding enough to pull my fingers apart.
Finally, her panties snapped from the pressure. Precum dripped from her tip and struck my leg, then ran warmly down my inner thigh.
“A specialized blood pressure medicine for futas,” she said breathlessly, with a playful grin. “It keeps our cocks from getting too big. It can get a little unwieldy, you know, especially when I’m out in public.”
I looked down at the precum on my thigh, rolling inward. It glistened in the dull green glow of the dashboard, physical evidence of Morgan’s deep lust for me dripping down my inner thigh.
I tried squeezing my fingers completely around her cock. It was too thick, I just couldn’t do it.
“Did you…did you forget to take your medicine today?” I asked.
“Sometimes I forget on purpose,” she said with a sly grin.
I gripped her tighter, squeezing, stroking.
She gasped and her cock pulsed again, growing wider, growing longer. Her eyelids fluttered and another drip of precum fell from her cock, this one landing higher on my thigh, soaking into my skirt.
It felt strange. Though I’d always considered myself less attractive and less sensual than Morgan, right now, I had full control over her.
I stroked her again, satisfied at the way she winced, at the way she grimaced, at the moans rising from her chest.
Morgan wasn’t content to let me do all the work. She slid her fingers down my panties, smirking to herself when she felt how wet they were.
“You’re as horny as I am,” she whispered.
“Morgan…shit!” I gasped.
She slid a finger into me, burying her forefinger in my wet hole. She shifted her hand, slid in her middle finger, then curled them, reaching toward my inner lust.
My legs trembled as she touched my G-spot. By the time Morgan tickled my clit with the tip of her thumb, I could hardly breathe.
Her cock grew a few more inches. Now, it was poking me in the chest, leaving wet precum stains on my crop top.
Feeling devilishly slutty, I pulled my crop top off, tossing it aside, and shrugged my tits out of my bra cups. I shifted forward and caught her shaft between my tits, thrusting my body up and down, stroking her with my cleavage.
“Kay, you little slut,” she said, and though I knew Morgan would never truly insult me, something about those words – little slut – rolling off of her lips made me feel desperately dirty, desperately submissive.
I leaned forward, closing my breasts around her cock, my pussy tingling as I felt her precum smear across my sternum.
“Is that what I am?” I whispered. “Am I your little slut?”
She thrust her fingers deeper into me and tickled my button with the pad of her thumb. A moan escaped me. A lake was brewing between my thighs, pooling on the leather seat beneath me, and I felt delightfully filthy as I sat in my own juices.
“What else would you be, but my little slut?” she panted as she worked her fingers in and out of me. “You ditched that small-dick loser at the bar because you wanted my cock, isn’t that right, you filthy little thing?”
Now, I no longer had to stroke her cock with my tits. Morgan had taken the initiative, thrusting her hips at an angle, fucking my breasts with her cock.
“All I’ve ever wanted is your cock,” I whispered as the tip of her dick touched my chin, leaving a wet stain just below my bottom lip.
“You want this cock?” Morgan asked. “You want me to stretch out your little lesbian pussy with my cock?”
To answer her, I tucked my chin into my sternum and lowered my face, pursed my lips, and kissed the tip of her cock.
Yes, I wanted it. I wanted it more than mere words could describe.