Turned out my last thought had proven correct: Zainab kept our little romance a secret from everyone, even her best friend, Sandra. Was it shame? Or was she just concerned about upsetting the apple cart? In any case, much as I wanted us to, Zainab and I didn’t have the lust-filled reunion I had hoped for after I got out of the hospital. It drove me nuts.
We had been so completely comfortable with each other for so long, it was a shock to see the anxiety on Zainab’s face when I returned to school. The other girls even noticed something was up with her, but she just made something up about being nervous for an upcoming test. The whole situation was starting to freak me out.
Worst of all, there was nobody I could talk to. If Zainab hadn’t told the others about what happened, that meant she didn’t want them to know — and I wasn’t about to break her trust.
When I got home, I did my best to focus on my work, but it was hard to think about anything else than Zainab. I was so hungry to play around with her beautiful naked body, I thought I was gonna have an aneurysm–but at the same time, I was desperate to fix a problem I feared could ruin the perfect group dynamic between my friends and I.
I phoned Zainab after my family had gone to bed, but the call went unanswered, and I couldn’t exactly leave a midnight message of “Hey, Zainab, When you get this, could you call me back so we can discuss that time we fooled around after you illegally broke into my hospital room?” I hung up and suffered through another unsuccessful night of attempted sleep.
The next day, I took out my frustrations with exercise, putting everything I had into my after-school jogging with Kike. I was punishing myself to the limit, especially considering how recently I had been let out of the hospital. Kike didn’t say anything, she just upped her own pace to match mine and we ran in silence.
I was a mess of feelings. Fears about my friendship with Zainab, insecurities about my first sexual experience, and an unrelenting, unbearable state of arousal. Every time I stopped to think, my head overloaded with memories of Zainab. Her orgasmic moans, her soft fingers on my hardness, her buttocks in my hands…
At the end of our runs, Kike and I would race to the finish. Without fail, I would always fall behind my beautiful friend. No matter how hard I tried, Kike was always the better athlete and she would always outrun me.
That race started like any other. Kike pulled ahead of me, as always. And my eyes locked onto the incredibly ass in those tight cotton shorts, as always. I had fantasized about that ass constantly for the better part of a year, but on that day I was so frustrated, so insecure, so goddamn horny that I couldn’t stand it.
I was filled with the sudden impulse to tackle Kike to the grass and tear those shorts off with my bare hands. I wanted to hold her down and bury my face between her legs, licking and teasing her into a state of absolute bliss while my hands grabbed onto the amazing ass she had tormented me with for so long.
She would scream in pleasure, begging me to make her cum, oblivious to all the other people gathered around, watching in stunned surprise. She would slide her hands up under her sports bra and aggressively tug at her own nipples in an attempt to bring herself to the orgasm I denied her. She would shout out every known obscenity, bucking her hips against my face, slathering my cheeks with her hot juices. Her hair would toss back and forth like wild fire–
FUCK! She’s your friend! You’re JUST friends! What is wrong with you? Why does everything have to be about sex?
I ran as hard as I could. Ran until I was cold and my legs felt numb. For the first time, I actually outran Kike; put her behind me just so I wouldn’t have to see her ass anymore. By the time we reached the end of our run, it hurt to breathe. I collapsed onto my back and let the sky above spin in my vision. Kike caught up a few seconds later, positively shocked–maybe even a little angry she lost.
“What is up with you today?” she panted, flopping to the grass beside me.
I couldn’t have told her even if I wanted to. I was fighting just to get air in my lungs, so talking was out of the question. She pulled her knee up into a stretch that accentuated that goddamn motherfucking perfect ass of hers. She thought for a moment, then asked, “You got blue-balls or something? No chance to rub one out in the hospital?”
“You have no idea,” I managed.
“Come on, up,” Kike ordered, socking me in the shoulder, “I’ve got something to show you.”
Kike’s house was just down the street, but my legs still barely made it there after that run. Kike lived alone with her police officer dad, and he was on duty that evening, so we had the place entirely to ourselves. She led me inside her smallish bedroom, adorned with a frilly pink bed.
Kike ducked beneath her girlish bed and pulled out an old dvd of The Little Mermaid.
“Why is that under your bed?” I asked.
“Because it’s not a Disney movie,” she answered naughtily. She slid the disc out of its case and I saw that it was actually labeled Cum-Drenched Wet Fucking 5 or something. I don’t remember exactly. I just remember thinking it was hilarious that the franchise was popular enough to merit a fourth sequel.
Kike pushed the disc in her DVD, explaining, “I know girls aren’t supposed to be into these, but that doesn’t make sense. My theory is it’s because so many of the guys in porn are gross looking, I don’t know. You just have to know what to look for.”
She fast-forwarded through the opening credits until a handsome guy with a six pack walked onscreen and robotically announced to nobody in particular, “Oh I am late,” and ran out the door.
“You see that guy?” Kike asked, “HE is the reason I stole this from my dad. I’ve watched this one like a thousand times. I showed it to all the other girls and they all got off watching it.”
I swallowed at the implications of what she just said. “So, you lent it to them and they told you they liked it?” I asked.
Kike fast-forwarded through another boring part as she answered, “No, they were all here for a sleepover. We were crashing on the living room floor in our pyjamas and I put the tape in to prove to everyone that porn could be hot for girls too. Sure enough, everyone started getting really turned on, until Chioma finally crawled under her blanket to cover up–and announced that she was so horny she was just finger herself and would everybody just please not look.”
My mouth went dry, and it wasn’t from the run. Kike hit play just as an actress with huge fake breasts began tugging the guy’s jeans down to reveal his monster of a cock. Kike sighed in arousal, “Some girls could care less what a guy’s thing looks like, or how big he is, but for me it’s the most important part. Like how boobs are, for you.”
The woman in the video worked that beast of an erection into her mouth, but I just wanted to hear more about what happened at Kike’s sleepover–
“So, Chioma fingered herself in front of everyone?”
“No, it wasn’t like that. She had the blanket on, we could barely even see her hand moving. It was a little weird at first, but she was real quiet so I just had to ignored her and watched my movie. What do I wanna see Chioma getting off for, anyway? But then Nneka was like, ‘What the hell,’ and crawled under her little blanket and started touching herself, too.”
On the TV, the guy leaned down and began softly licking the girl’s pussy.
“Ooh, okay, this is the good part. Get under the covers with me.” Kike insisted, and crawled into her bed.
My mind suddenly connected my current situation with Kike’s story.
“You mean, you want me to–”
“Like I said, the rest of us all got off watching this movie together. It would be wrong for you to be left out of the club. Now get under the covers so it won’t be weird.”
I obeyed, feeling her slender hip against mine as I slid into bed. On the TV, the guy rolled the girl onto her stomach and slowly entered her from behind, building speed until her ass was slapping against his pelvis with each hard thrust.
I detected motion beneath our blanket as Kike’s fingers slowly worked away at her clit. Emboldened by her example, my hand slipped beneath my waistband and grabbed hold of my erection. “Then what happened?” I asked.
“At that point, it would have been more uncomfortable if the rest of us had just sat there watching the two of them. So Zainab, and I, and even Sandra pulled up our blankets and started rubbing ourselves, too. It wasn’t too awkward–we were all watching the guy in the movie, not each other. It was actually kind of fun, like a group activity, you know?”
I couldn’t help but picture the five of them, spread out across the living room carpet, frantically frigging themselves beneath those blankets.
Beside me, Kike let out a little moan that snapped me back to reality. I studied her beautiful face as she bit her lip in self-induced pleasure. My rigid cock throbbed in my hand.
On the TV, the actors repositioned so that the girl was riding her man reverse cowgirl, fake breasts bouncing wildly as she impaled herself again and again on his gargantuan phallus.
“Who came first?” I whispered.
Kike’s voice was turning breathy and ragged with arousal: “Mmm–Zainab did. She made kind of a little whimper then went still. Chioma was next. She made this adorable meowing sound when she came.”
The porn actors built towards their climax; the guy feverishly groping the girl’s enormous gravity-defying breasts as she urged him on. Kike sped up the hand on her clit, panting with pleasure. My jaw clenched tight. “Then who?”
“Ohhh… then Nneka. Then Sandra.”
On screen, the guy dove his hand down and violently rubbed at his co-star’s clit while she bounced up and down along the whole length of his cock–
I kept focused on Kike’s enraptured face; on the mounting ecstasy written across her lovely features. I timed my own strokes with the frantic sloshing sounds coming from her hand.
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