I feel my stomach start to flutter as I call him up. Will he be free? Will he want to see me? Years ago he made my blood pump. The anticipation would build for days while I waited until I could sneak away. When the opportunity finally presented itself I would jump. He answers my invitation without hesitation, he never hesitates when it comes to me.

When we arrive at his place we fall in to an easy routine. There is polite conversation about old friends, new flings, work and school. It took years to master the subtle cat and mouse games we play but we’ve managed. Every action is soaking with flirtation but I never make the first real move, that would be too easy.

He slowly erases the tension that’s been building since our last meeting. He coaxes a smile, then a laugh. When he pours me a drink and I let my hand linger just a bit longer than necessity. By the time the second drink is poured we are holding hands and laughing like old friends because, well, because that’s exactly what we are. There is something comforting about sharing time with someone who has known you forever. Someone who has held you up through all of life’s little defeats, who knows you inside and out, who has seen you at your worst but who still cares for you. It’s nice to shed the facade and just be real with someone who doesn’t demand perfection.

We both know that it won’t lead anywhere. We’ve been good at toeing the line for years, getting the thrill without making a move that could jeopardize our friendship. But..what if?

What if this time when he held me close I let him? His heart beating against my chest with a passion I didn’t try to quell. It would be just a peck at first, questioning and insecure but you could sense the passion is there. I can feel his lips push harder on mine as he realizes I’m not pulling away. His hands playing with my hair before slowly beginning to explore the length of my body. We might not be teenagers anymore but there is still that rush in the fear of getting caught. Time is a luxury we do not have, there’s an urgency as his hands tug down my panties. I grab at the zipper on his pants, feeling how hard he is. It’s a powerful feeling to know I’m the cause of his excitement.

I drop to my knees and slowly ease him down my throat. He groans and closes his eyes. I move faster and faster, his cock pounding the back of my throat, my tongue working the head. He can barely control himself and I love it. I bring out the animal in him. He pulls me up and throws me on to the bed. I don’t want to play more games, I’m wet, I’m ready and I just want him inside me. He doesn’t disappoint. I know he likes being on top and I allow him to dominate my body. We work in to a steady rhythm of passion and ecstasy. He brings me to orgasm as I yell to the world my pleasure. He brings out the whore in me. I push him off and get on my hands and knees. He grabs my hair as he fucks me from behind. I cum. Again. Again. Again. Just when I think I can’t take anymore he thrusts deep inside and I feel him explode. It feels so damn good when he fills me up. My legs give out and he holds me as the aftershocks rock my body. I look up at him and smile, I can feel the afterglow, the peace that this is finally happening.

But, we aren’t teenagers anymore. We can control ourselves, at least for the night. Just as long as I don’t have another drink.