I think sometimes how that might be, fucking someone who you don't even enjoy spending time with but I try not to think about it too much because I just get sick and sad. I still don't know how it happened, exactly. It was my invitation, to dinner if nothing else. Yes I found him beautiful but I didn't belive in our friendship and that was his fault. He said believing is just fooling yourself and I believed everything he said.I remember my family teasing me that night when I put on my third choice of shirts, the final decision a chest-hugging pink tee shirt with a low neck line. My friends and family laughed at how much I was obsessing over the way I look, something I NEVER do. And this was just dinner, supposedly. I had no other expectations, only fantasies that I never thought would come true. He was due to arrive in thirty minutes and I couldn't stop the jitters. I even tried drinking a beer and listening to soft music but nothing stopped the nerves. It was strange, because I was. “That feels so good”, she purred. I let the tips of my fingers loose upon her body, running down her tense legs and her straight back, and then I took the bottom of her dress and pulled it up as she raised her arms so that I could pull it over her head. I dropped my towel, and we looked at each other naked, my cock standing out hard. “Take me”, she said as she slid down onto the bed, her arms above her head as though she was surrendering as she lay down. I knelt beside her and allowed my hands, very lightly, to run up and down her slim body. Her breasts were the perfect size to be cupped in my hands and when I complemented how round and firm they were she told me how proud she had always been of “my titties”. But for me her best feature was her legs: long, elegant and perfectly toned, I soon found out what her secret was. She was a dance teacher, and her legs were a product of the hours that she danced every day. “Turn around”, I told her. She rolled over so that I could massage her.
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