I wrote this a few years ago while still experimenting with dialogue-free storytelling. This is a tale of two best friends and the build up to a moment between them.
She thought back to the way they’d been moving. She’d been bent over in front of him in nothing but panties, rotating her ass against him while he rested his hand on her back and pumped to the music. She’d stood with her back to his stomach, swaying with her eyes closed as held her waist. Never before had she considered how well they moved together, not as just dance partners, but as faux-sexual partners. Dancing with anyone else always felt like a precursor to sex, but she tended to hold back. With another man, moving like that would have soaked her. Part of what allowed her to move with him the way she did was that lack of sexual tension. She could just let go and move. Lying in bed, still buzzing from the alcohol, still reeling from a breakup, she found herself imaging something almost unsettling. Penny imagined fucking Zachery. What surprised her most, what made her most uncomfortable, was just how comfortable and right the fantasy felt. When she realized she’d started touching herself, she shook herself out of it, shivered as though something repugnant had touched her, and tried to put it out of her head and fall asleep.
The next morning, Penny had all but forgotten about the fantasy until she saw Zachery. It returned. She felt ashamed and icky. That day and for a few days to follow, she had a mild obsession over the fantasy. She couldn’t let it go, not because it was so hot, but because it was so bizarre. Their interactions continued as normal. She wasn’t about to mention her fantasy to him. He had no idea. For the sake of their friendship, she wasn’t going to share. As days became weeks, she didn’t forget, but the obsession subsided. Life resumed, but on at least one night, she did make a hurried, nervous, and pathetic excuse not to have a dance party. She claimed all her socks were in the laundry.
Over a month after her fantasy, Zachery had a disappointing evening. He returned from a date he’d expected to go a particular way, but didn’t. During their ritual debriefing, he shared his disappointment with Penny. He explained that he’d felt led on. Before adjourning to their rooms, he joked to her about taking care of himself that night and how no one knew how to treat him better than he could treat himself. Everything came back to her when he said this, but with more to it this time. She hadn’t been seeing anyone since the fallout with new/old guy, and she’d been taking care of herself throughout. Here they were, horny and dejected, retiring to their private quarters. She caught herself thinking about how in another circumstance, two friends who cared about one another could have been there for one another physically. More importantly, she caught herself wanting to be there for him.
The apartment became quiet. Penny considered putting on headphones so any possibility of hearing Zachery wouldn’t distract her. Months ago, she heard him watching porn, and she thought it was hilarious. If she heard him tonight, her reaction might be different. After trying to ignore it, her restlessness got the better of her. She crept into the hallway, feigning a trip to the bathroom. Passing his room, she paused. Guilt hit her as she did, followed by a concern that she was going crazy. At least twice she turned to go back to her room, but curiosity overcame her. As quiet as she could be, pulse racing and hands shaking, she leaned towards his door. Yes, he was definitely watching porn. She couldn’t hear him doing anything else, though. Her imagination filled in the details. That familiar flutter made its way from her stomach to her pussy. She stopped short of touching herself and recoiled a bit when she realized how she wanted it. Right then she heard him sigh and she bolted back to her room.
Penny laughed to herself as she realized the absurdity of pretending she’d been in bed the whole time. The laugh gave way to silence, as she strained to hear another sigh. What was she doing? Shame nipped at her, but the returning obsession pushed it aside. Hearing Zachery, especially while spying on him, had lit a fire in her. She wanted to deny it, but she wanted to indulge it even more. The unexpected desire took over. She let it take over. Under her covers, she began rubbing herself, then rubbing inside, fucking herself while trying not to cry out. The pressure enhanced her touch. A mixture of taboos swirled in her. She loved giving herself to this new dirtiness. What she really loved was the thought of him stroking just yards from her while she inched closer to orgasm. Only after she came did any discomfort return, but she tried not to think about it.
Part 3 in a few days…