“Friends” Ch. 01: Rings

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Originally posted 5/12/16.

Edit (5/27/16): In the weeks since I posted chapter 1 I have learned a lot about creative writing. I’ve revised chapter 1 to be more consistent in style with chapter 2. I hope it’s an easier read.

I want to thank Todger65 for re-editing chapter 1. He has saved me from embarrassment several times now.

Disclaimer: This is a First Time story in a broad sense. Reed is going to have many titillating adventures in a multi-part series so it felt wrong to have a culminating event in chapter 1. If you are looking for strict loss-of-virginity in this chapter, you may want to keep searching. That said, I don’t think the story will disappoint!

I appreciate any feedback, so don’t be shy if you want to leave a comment or PM me. If you send me a message I will be happy to send you reminders when subsequent chapters are released.

“Are you bisexual?” Kris said.

Her head lay on my shoulder, hand on my knee, and her elbow grazed the bulge in my pants. We sat under the same charcoal grey blanket on the sofa and watched a crime procedural. I stared at the television, my muscles tense, and struggled to ignore her nakedness under the blanket. I wore jeans and a brown button down.

Several months ago the question would have shocked me.

“You mean have I ever been attracted to a man?” My arm dropped off the couch and rested over her shoulder. I caressed her upper arm with my hand.

“Yeah, or thought about fucking one?” She turned her head up. Her green eyes twinkled and absorbed everything.

“No I haven’t.”

“That’s too bad,” Kris said under her breath.

She knew I was raised to believe profanity and sexual topics of conversation to be ‘go-to-hell taboo’ and liked to tease me. I didn’t mind at all; the mellifluous sound of her voice resonated down my spine. I continued to caress her arm and wondered if the softness stretched over the rest of her.

“Too bad?” I said.

The table lamp, the sole source of illumination in the room except the television, silhouetted her while blue light from the screen danced with shadows across her features. My hands struggled to stay put.

“Yeah Red, too bad. I’ve always wanted to watch two guys fucking.” My name is Reed, but she called me Red due to the color of my hair. I sometimes teased her for having trouble with four-letter words. She always laughed at that.

“Like, in the same room with them?”

She uncrossed her legs, rested her left leg between mine under the blanket, and stroked my calf with her foot. I leaned my head in and stared at her.

“Mind grabbing me another ginger-ale from the fridge?” she said.

My jeans strangulated me and I noted to wear sweats next time. Her breasts, under the blanket, were bare and free.

It would hurt a little to get up.


Kris sat up when I stood and the blanket fell to her tight stomach. She was exposed from the navel up, her left side in soft shadow. From the tip of her left breast and across her body, the warm glow of the lamp bathed her—a fluid that shifted with her breaths. The light glinted off her nipples.

She saw my eyes settle on her chest. Her lips curved up at one side in a smirk. “I have inverted nipples.” She lifted her hands to cup her breasts and pinched the tips. “The rings are there to make them protrude.” Her hands lifted the firm mounds while her fingers played with the rings.

“They look fine.” My lips failed to resist a smile and my cheeks turned hot. I pivoted and made my way to the kitchenette in the apartment. I tried to walk straight and hoped the bulge in my pants wouldn’t be noticeable when I turned the light on.

“Just fine?”

The kitchenette bordered the living room, so when I opened the refrigerator I could make her out in my peripheral vision, soft angles and curves.

“No, they look really good,” I said. My cheeks still smoldered but I met her gaze.

“Oh, really good?” She lowered her hands to her lap.

I said nothing. I wanted the weight of her breasts in my hands. I turned around and filled gaziantep escortlar her drink.

“Could you put some ice and bourbon in it too?”

“Sure.” My jeans cramped me when I walked back to the refrigerator and I winced at a sharp pinch. I opened the freezer; the cold air did little to calm me.

–An Hour Earlier–

Kris taught me the meaning of ‘hot.’ ‘Hot’ isn’t, as some think, a physical trait. Yes, Kris’s face demanded attention and her body—even though I never looked too long—made men stop their cars well before she entered a crosswalk. But her allure went beyond that; her sensuality beguiled me: a hand on my thigh when she laughed, a well timed arch of her back, unpadded bras with thin sweaters, a vocabulary that thrived on wet, hard, long, and come. To a virgin, a former fundamentalist Christian at that, she tantalized me.

I didn’t know what Kris saw in me, but since we’d begun our college fitness class together we’d become fast friends. We hung out two to three times a week, so when she called and asked if I wanted to come over and watch a show I didn’t expect anything unusual to happen.

I showered in three minutes and drove to her apartment. The spring light lingered in the sky in defiance of the late hour; however, trees and foliage lined the path to her apartment—an in-law to a house—and concealed the last glimmers of sunset. Kris referred to the walkway an orifice.

When I knocked on the door she called from inside that it was open. I entered and saw her on the couch. A single lamp at her right struggled to illuminate her, the curtains closed at her back.

“Hi, Red.” A blanket covered her even though it wasn’t very cold in the room. She patted the couch next to her.

“Hey, Kris.”

An empty highball glass sat on the table in front of her; bourbon vanilla perfumed the air. She’d tied her hair up and the blanket covered the front of her to her neck. From behind, her neck and shoulders looked bare. Was she naked?

I had little experience with flirtation, but I suspected our friendship to be, in fact, flirtatious. But never more. We’d cuddled and watched shows for several weeks, but she told me she’d always been a touchy-feely person—I still doubted she would be naked around me.

“It’s dark in here,” I said.

“Don’t you like the dark?”

“I suppose so.”

“I love the dark, it’s full of possibility.”

I sat down to the left of her.

“Mind watching SVU?” she said.

I hate that show. It’s so pointless. Each episode is pretty much the same: bad guy does bad thing, bad guy is caught; police realize the bad guy is not the bad guy; then they catch the bad guy. The show is a waste of life.

“Sure, would love to.”

Kris sat with legs crossed, but after a minute shifted and lifted the blanket up a bit. I raised my arm and she leaned against me. In the fleeting moment before she set the blanket over us I saw a dark outline of her naked torso. She placed her arm on my leg with her elbow centimeters from my hard-on. We continued to watch the show.


I turned off the light in the kitchen and came back to the couch. She took the drink and her fingers caressed mine. Her eyes lingered on my pants and I blushed. She made room and I sat back down on the brown jersey cover that hugged the couch; she once told me a cover is easier to clean and you don’t have to worry about stains.

She leaned back against me, but this time didn’t pull the blanket up. “Your buttons are uncomfortable,” she said.

“Excuse me?”

“The buttons on your shirt, they hurt. Mind taking it off?”

Kris lay against my side far from the buttons, but she looked sincere so I removed my shirt. I had always been thin, but not muscular, and my complexion made me conspicuous in the dark. I held my breath and waited for her reaction.

She leaned up against me. “That’s better, you have really soft skin.” I relaxed and breathed in. She intoxicated me with jasmine and musk. “And your body is a lot like my first boyfriend.”

I put my arm around her again, but this time I touched more, too soft and tight to resist. I rested my hand on her bare lower stomach and my little finger met the smooth part of skin between her stomach and pubic bone. Wiry strands of hair tickled me.

“Is this okay?” I said.

“I like cuddling.” She nestled her head into my neck. “I like intimacy.”

She took a large sip of her drink. We could have been in an oak forest; I may have added too much bourbon. My pinky settled amidst a tuft of hair at the top of her pubic bone and I rubbed her stomach in small circular motions with my thumb. She squeezed and relaxed her legs in a rhythmic motion. After a minute she caressed my forearm with her left hand.

Some time passed and I’d lost track of the show. She didn’t look directly at the screen either.

Kris sat up, drained her drink, and leaned over to set it on the table, further away than she could reach. She lifted up off the couch and displayed the smooth round curve of her ass. Shadows permeated the crevice where her cheeks met and her absence made me shiver.

She sat back down and leaned against me. “I’m a little inebriated. You made that strong.” When she spoke her breath brushed my chin. I shivered again, but not from a chill.


“No, I like my drinks strong.” She smiled at me and spoke in a soft voice. “Have you wondered why I’m not wearing anything?”

“Once or twice.”

“Have you ever touched a girl’s breasts before?”

I gulped. “No.”

“Would you like to?”

“You wouldn’t mind?”

“I wouldn’t ask if I minded. It would be good for you.”


“I’m a safe place.”


She arched her back and displayed her breasts. We sat for several seconds and she said, “What are you waiting for?”

“I don’t know how.” I blushed and she laughed.

“Here, cup your hand like this—no, relax your fingers a bit. Good. Now reach with your right hand and cup my left breast.”

Her heavy left breast yielded to my palm. The cool metal of her nipple ring rested between my fingers and my arm cradled her right breast, a velvet-wrapped pillow with just the right amount of give.

“Mind if I ask a question?” I said.

“What’s that?” Her eyelids closed and her stomach disappeared into the blanket.

“What size are you?”

She laughed again, in her husky way. “For educational purposes, I can tell you I’m a 32-D.”

“You feel really nice.”

“It’s okay to make a massaging movement. It feels good that way.”

I massaged her breasts. She sighed and then moaned. Pre-cum leaked out the head of my cock and dampened my boxers.

“This feels so good, Red. You sure you haven’t done this before?”

“No, never before.” I breathed hard. She breathed hard. I thought she might want me to kiss her and the edge of my vision faded. I blinked twice and it returned.

“Can I tell you something?” she said.


“I like the nipple rings because they make my nipples sensitive and hard.”



I’d heard of women able to orgasm from breast massage alone. I wondered if she would. I continued to massage her breasts and an eternity passed in an instant.

“Can I tell you something else?” she said.


“Bourbon makes me horny.” She closed her eyes. “Lift your thumb and grip my nipple—gentle now—against your index finger. Yeah, that’s good.” Kris rolled her hips in small circular motions. Beads of moisture made her torso slick against mine. “Now roll my nipple and the ring—oh god yes, you’re a natural.”

We panted. Her right hand moved under the blanket, her wrist on her pubic bone. She moved her left leg to rest on me; her right leg extended from under the blanket, exposed to the thigh. The soft warm light enveloped her supple tan skin.

My hand moved of its own volition now and rolled her nipple back and forth. My cock throbbed. Is it possible to come without touching yourself, I wondered?

“Do you want to see what it looks like when a girl comes?”


The movements of her hand and the circular motion of her hips pushed the blanket down. It barely covered her left leg. Her bikini lines included a triangle above her pussy. Her middle and index fingers undulated between her legs.

Her bare pussy rested beneath a tuft of hair. She moved her fingers side to side and caused her lips to mound up on one side and come back down on the other. Smooth and fleshy, they reminded me of the masturbator toy I had at home. But better. Kris looked softer, warmer, and wetter. Real.

Kris took my right hand and moved it to her right breast. “Use your other hand too,” she said. I continued to massage her with my palms and kneaded her nipples between my fingers. She gasped. “Oh baby, I’m going to come soon.”

“Okay,” I said. She laughed then. I think I messed up the ‘dirty-talk.’

“Pull on my rings.” She squeezed the words between respirations. I tugged both her nipples, dark and hard with small rippled areolas. Her hips arched up and she groaned. Her sun-browned body stretched out before me; the left side of her bucked against me. She glowed.

Kris moved her hand to my inner thigh, her palm pressed down on the top of my cock through my jeans. She pressed on me while she ravished herself.

“I’m so wet! I’m so close.”

My hands explored her breasts, her warm body slid against me, and her fingers squeezed my cock. I could withstand all that, but her groans of pleasure overwhelmed me. I grunted and failed to stop the first hot jet of fluid from spilling into my boxers. Her hips imitated my cock and jerked up and down.

She rubbed her clit with her knuckle in a circular motion and her middle finger disappeared inside of her. She cried out and bit my shoulder. Our bodies tensed and my balls tightened until I thought they would break. I wondered if she could feel my cock pulse under her hand while the last of my spasms subsided.

She looked at me. I spoke quickly, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to come—”

“Please, don’t be.”

I wondered if this counted as sex.

“That felt really good,” she said.

“Yeah.” Her hand lay still on me. I worried I would leak through and get her hand wet.

“I hope I didn’t overwhelm you, Red.”

“You didn’t.” A white lie.

Kris stood up and I saw her nude from behind. “I’m going to shower. You can borrow a pair of clean boxers from my boyfriend. They’re in the top drawer of the dresser in the bedroom.”

She undid her hair and let it cascade down her back, an auburn waterfall. She stretched out her calves, arched her back, and lifted her arms high in the air. She yawned and said, “I’m still a little dizzy.”

Her ass reached towards the light. She must have wanted me to have a clear view of her lips: pink and puffy around an orifice that glistened. She turned her head over her shoulder and saw my eyes fixed on her. Her hand appeared between her thighs and a finger dipped into her pussy. She pulled it out and lapped at it before it disappeared into her mouth.

My cock stirred again.

Before Kris disappeared around the corner she turned back to me, finger still in mouth. I could see her entire body in profile: her angled chin and slender neck, the round crest of her breast on an invisible shelf, a toned torso, and a tight round bottom that turned up and into her thighs.

“You have a boyfriend?” I said.

“Yes, he works nights though.”


“I don’t like being alone.”


“We’re good friends, you and me?” Kris said.


“Good. When I’m out of the shower I’ll make us something to eat.”

Kris turned the shower on and I walked into her—their—bedroom. Matching wooden nightstands bordered the head of a king-size bed and a large black sport watch rested on the left one. Save for the watch and a host of half-melted candles on the dresser, the room appeared pristine. I changed out of my soaked boxers and fought the impulse to put his watch on.

I didn’t know what to do with my wet boxers so I wadded them up and put them in my pocket. On my way back to the living room I made a detour to the bathroom. I called through the door, “Kris?”


“Is your boyfriend bisexual?”

She laughed.

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