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[7599] Yeah, I Hit That

I was 21. She was 16. We were unlikely friends, but we found ourselves hanging out with the same group of guys all the time, and we kind of bonded over the fact that sometimes it was just nice to talk to someone without watching them readjust their balls every five minutes. We started hanging out together, away from our little group. Nothing too crazy: we'd go underwear shopping, see movies together when the rest of gang bailed out on us (you fucks; yeah, The Corpse Bride was disappointing, but it was Tim Burton!). Then one day she suggested that we have a sleepover. I was against the idea, because it illustrated exactly what is weird about our friendship: I was an adult and too old for sleepovers, she was not.

Of course, I caved right the fuck in. Looking back, I guess it was always hard for me to deny her things; she was just so fucking cute. So she arrived at my house on a cold winter night, a few days before Christmas, and we discussed how to spend the time. We both liked watching horrible porn, so I downloaded Bella Loves Jenna, one of the weirdest pornos I've ever seen, and set the DVD burner up. I had Tic-Tac-Toe shot glasses and some Cuban rum, and she drank like a fish, so we watched a movie and played a few rounds. I lost several in row and abruptly quit, declaring that the porn was ready for our consumption.

She wanted to play a drinking game. We'd do a shot every time something disturbing happens, she said. It'll be fun, she said. We did; it was. Eighteen shots later, the rum is gone. We got into the wine. Rather, she got into the wine. I had half a glass while she tilted her head back and chugged from the bottle. I had a goofy grin on my face when I told her we'd had too much and should head to bed.

The guest room was warm and inviting, and I was in a t-shirt and pajama bottoms, while she was in a t-shirt and her underwear. We laid on our backs in the dark, talking about everything and nothing, when she suddenly climbed on top of me and started kissing me. She hadn't taken her retainer out. It was designed to look like a watermelon and it knocked against my teeth, but I was already panting and kissing back while she whispered to me that it was my fault for being so fucking hot. We were rolling around and I was sticking my hand up her shirt like a horny teenage boy when she stopped me so that she could apologize for her breasts being small, and then my fingers grazed the edge of her bra and suddenly the shirt and the bra were off and I could just make out those breasts and they were perfect, just fucking perfect.

It was then that I wished I had left the bedside lamp on, because I wanted to remember exactly what her red hair looked like spilling across the pillows, the rise and fall of her chest, and the exact colour of the hardened nipple that took up residence in my mouth. She pulled me close and asked me to sleep with her, and somehow I found the strength to articulate just why that might be a bad idea. Her mouth formed a little moue of disappointment, and I almost changed my mind right then. She evened things up by removing my shirt and bra, and we continued making out as I reached down to touch her through her underwear. The whole time we were kissing she made these girlish little moans and her embarrassed apologies told me she had no idea how fucking sexy they were and how they sent a low rumble through my stomach that shot straight to my groin.

Soon she was pressing down hard on my fingers, thighs clamped shut around my right hand, while the left one tangled itself in her hair and my mouth went back to worshipping her breasts. For the next few minutes all I can hear is her panting and moaning, all I can feel is the moisture on my fingers, concrete proof of her arousal that nearly destroyed my remaining brain cells. As she arched up, shuddered and sighed, her thighs freed my hand and my mouth was back on hers. It was easy then, so easy to slide her thigh between my legs kiss her almost chastely, as if we weren't still half-naked in bed together. I pulled her close to me and we fell asleep.

In the morning, we went out for breakfast. She squeezed my hand and we shared secret smiles over our meals.

I promised myself it will be the last time, and it is.

Until we hung out again. And now I have more confessions.

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