Best Friends, Better Friends

"Why only nine and a half," I pouted.

"Impossible to reach, a ten," he said pretending to look philosophical. In a move that still shocks me to this day, I grabbed his hand at the small of my back and dragged it the few inches to rest on the gentle curve of my bottom.

"There," I said, "You can reach it now, what do you think?"

"Shit," he said looking deep into my eyes and squeezing my bottom at the same time, "Ten," he said squeezing slightly then pausing to stroke me through the silk of my dress, "ten without question." We danced closer, pausing only to move to an adjacent table to put down our almost empty glasses. We stared into each others eyes and we both gently added both arms into what was becoming a gentle and romantic slow dance.

As the band played 'I only have eyes for you' he smiled gently at me and clutched my now free left hand to his shoulder. I noticed that at no point did he take his hand from my bottom though!

It was so gentle and 'nice', I had certainly never experienced a dance like this. Although my ex and I met at Uni', he was one of the Rugby team and ladies, if they knew what was best for them were out of the Rugby team dinners by midnight before they started to strip and sing those appalling songs that weren't even risqué when their grandfathers had sung them during the war. The dreadful bar games left nothing to the imagination either. But here, this tall handsome man, a week younger than me as it turned out, was making me feel like a nineteen year old on a first date.

The chat started again, and we worked our way around the dance floor, taking various couples apart and guessing what they were talking about by their facial expression, speech and posture. It was good fun. Again, at no time did he take his hand off of my bottom. The heat from his hand through the satin was such that it was almost like his hand was straight onto my skin. I decided I didn't mind at all.

The music finished and eased into 'a nightingale sang in Berkley Square' – all very old stuff but for some reason the crowd, who were well set up by the excellent wines, responded to them without complaint.

I knew from memory that the tempo would increase in half an hour and the rock and roll would start, then the band would finish and a disco would take over. I decided to make the most of clinging to this hunk of a bloke for as long as I could.

Before I knew what was happening the lights went up slightly and everything stopped. We all applauded and the band bowed and walked off of stage. The bar was busy again and we headed to the coolness of the veranda.

In the loo I was immediately set upon by Davina,

"Well?"

"Well what?" I replied.

"Him, the widow, you've just spent the last three quarters of an hour dancing around the floor with his left hand glued to your arse, what d'ya mean 'Well what'! Come on, spill."

"Oh," I said blushing, "Well, we were chatting about bottoms and he... it's a long story Davina, but to cut it short, Yes, given the chance I think I might..."

Davina screamed!

"You GO Sarah!" she growled patting me none to softly on the back, "I'll hold your handbag for you," she grinned. "At least he should know the effect he's having on you look." She said nodding down.

The reason for some of the looks I had been getting became more obvious – my normally well-behaved nips were poking through the thin silky satin and the light cotton lining the dressmaker had put in, leaving nothing to the imagination.

I coughed, smiled, and laughed off the moment, pulled the dress off of my chest, made a great play of looking down and said, "well done girls."

Davina laughed and put a light hand on my shoulder, "go get him Darling," she said, "do you both the world of good." I winked back at her, checked my makeup and lippy and headed back out into the room.

Gary was stood at the bar with David with a couple more drinks, one of which was a pint and a short glass. Oh no, just as I had get my head around going somewhere with this fine man he starts on the beer and chasers.

David downed his chaser, and encouraged Gary to do the same. His was dark brown and suggested something and coke. David roared uproariously much in the same way his wife had a few minutes ago and slapped him on the back. Gary chuckled and sipped his beer.

"What's up?" he said. I realised that my expression was perhaps a bit obvious. I folded my arms and half smiled at him. He shrugged his shoulders and sipped some more beer. I stood slightly away from him and his face let me know he was reading my body language in no uncertain terms.

"Sarah," he said, indicating with his head I should move closer. I stood still. The last thing I wanted was another night on the piss with drunken men, I'd had enough of that in this room to last a lifetime.

He slipped a hand around my waist and pulled me closer. I tried to resist.

He handed me his almost empty short glass.

"I don't want..." I pulled away from the glass thinking he wanted me to drink with him.

"Sniff!" he said in slightly raised voice. I took the glass and sniffed, "Coke," he said, and put the glass down, picking up the pint. "Taste," he said. I took a sip. "It's non-alcoholic lager with lemonade to bulk it out a bit, Me and the barman are mates." He winked at the two men behind the bar and they held up thumbs and winked back.

It transpired that he'd had a chat with them at the start of the evening about not wanting to get drunk. They were handing him special glasses that looked like booze and would be enough to keep the most hardened drinkers off of his case.

"Like I said, two glasses of wine. A gallon of Coke and the top of a pint of non alcoholic lager honey, that's all." He smiled the sweetest smile at me, "I'm enjoying myself just being out with you - why would I need to get drunk?"

I grinned back like a Cheshire cat, and leaned forward to kiss him on the mouth. There was nothing I could have done to stop myself if I'd wanted to.

He met the kiss, warm and full mouthed. It was the first passionate kiss I'd had since well before the break-up. As it turned out it was his as well.

My arms crept around his neck, and his wound around my waist, with his other hand slipping down to cup the other cheek of my bottom that had so far missed all the attention.

"I take it all back," he whispered as we broke for a breath, "Your arse is an eleven out of ten, no question."

I noticed out of the corner of my eye, that the group of people we were with were watching us in a not watching kind of way, and smiling and making small talk, which MUST have been about us.

We broke the clinch, both with huge Cheshire cat grins on our faces. The conversation began again, but Gary and I remained glued together like a couple of love struck teenagers.

"Well," said Davina with a real genuine smile, "being the up-front kind of bitch that I am, ordinarily I'd be the first to tell you two to 'get a room' but," she raised her wine glass in salute, "I know that Sarah already has one." She took a long sip, "Gary, if you don't drag this devastatingly attractive, single woman away so she can prove just how much she's into you then, so help me, I'll beat you to death with your own erection."

I looked down and saw the definite bulge I had been pushing myself against for the last twenty minutes.

Davina leaned forward and kissed me lightly on the cheek, then Gary.

"Good night sweet things," she smiled, raising her glass and pulling at her husband's arm, 'And may flights of angels sing thee, a bit half sharpish, to thy rest." She indicated to the rest of the group that they should follow and leave us alone.

My arms were around him and his around me. We both smiled and opened our mouths to speak when the DJ started the first song. It was 'I just wanna make love to you,' the song from the diet Coke ad.

"D'you think she tipped the DJ," Gary said over the din.

"Who cares," I said, "either that or he's a mind reader."

"Would you like to dance some more, or..."

"Or what?" I said with a grin, placing my arms around his neck again.

"Or we grab a bottle of something light, refreshing and sparkly and have a pleasant moonlight stroll."

"I like the sound of that," I said.

A moment later, and we were exiting through the French doors and out into the cool night air, arm in arm, with a bottle of Asti Spumante for company. I led Gary on a journey of rediscovery for me, and wandered through the college gardens nodding to a few other couples and groups sat around on lawns and on small banks and clustered around metal tables on metal chairs that hadn't changed since I left all those years ago.

I rested my head on his shoulder as we walked, just chatting idly. Just sweet nothings meant only to delay the moment when we had to face up to our own feelings and our lust for each other!

The sound of the disco was barely audible and the light chatter of other guests just sailing over the hedges and borders as Gary stopped and slipped off his jacket, laying it on a bank for me to sit on.

I protested, but he insisted saying that no way could he allow a dress as perfect as mine to get anything so terrible as a grass stain on it.

As he made to sit, I grabbed him and kissed him, forcing my tongue into his mouth.

"If you like," I said breathlessly, "we could go to my room and I can take it off, only fair, seeing as you've started to undress already."

"Sarah," he said rubbing my back and bottom with agonising tenderness, "are you absolutely sure about this?"

"Aren't you?"

"Oh fuck yeah," he gasped, "but I still want to be able to look you in your most delectable face tomorrow morning."

"My room is just down here," I said pulling him towards the red brick rooms that had aged perfectly.

"OK," he said, "where have you hidden the key; if was in that dress, I'd be able to see it for sure."

I smiled, reached up to a small doorframe and picked a small brass Yale key polished to a gold-like aura by years of use.

"Aah," he said, "The place no one would think of looking." He walked along two or three doors and found the keys in the same place, "Thank God you lot are all so well educated." I unlocked the door, and saw my blue jeans, Gap T-shirt, pale blue bra and matching bikini knicks all still dumped on the bed where I'd thrown them not four hours ago.

"Oh," I blustered, "don't mind them," I said walking to the metal casement windows.

"Must bring back the whole 'being a student' thing, bet the kitchen is full of white label bread, beans and spaghetti hoops."

I turned to him and put my hands on my hips,

"Have you been in here already?" I walked across the room to him pausing to pick up two plastic 'glasses' for the wine.

He had placed his dinner jacket over a chair and had undone his bow tie and let in hang around his neck. It was a real one! The two plastic cups I had got were dropped to the bed and I almost ran to him, putting my arms around his neck and snogging him.

He gasped for breath,

"Bloody hell honey, I only put my jacket down!"

I explained that I'd always had a huge crush on James Bond actors; well Pierce Brosnan and Daniel Craig to be exact; I started to tell him that while I was in the latter stages of my last pregnancy I'd read a magazine article about Daniel Craig which had the photo of him with the wet white shirt and the bow tie undone around his neck.

"And you used to masturbate yourself crazy to it?" he said very matter of factly.

"God yes," I sighed, stroking hands along his chest.

"Hormones are terrible things," he said with a grin.

"Yes," I said with a sigh, "but I don't have that excuse for this evening, at least not pregnancy ones." He laughed and kissed me again.

"I'll leave the thing on then," he said, "I may not be Daniel Craig but it's only fair you do the same for me..."

I stepped back from him lightly placing my hands on his chest and tiptoeing up just a tiniest bit to peck him lightly on the lips. Then I pushed him back into the armchair that looked out over the moonlit lawns beneath.

"Open the wine," I said, with more confidence than I actually felt.

He smiled and undid the foil around the top of what was actually a very good, not to sweet, Asti Spumante.

As he began to undo the wire holding the cork, I undid the tiny hidden zip that had nestled beneath my arm all evening. Watching his efforts I dropped the shoulder straps down my arms so I was holding the dress over my hips and against my braless boobs.

"Excuse me a moment," I said, turning my back to him. I saw that the wire had joined the foil on the small coffee table. Knowing that his concentration would be on the cork and the need to stop it flying out I let my perfect, super expensive (For me anyway) dress fall to the ground and clad only in my pale blue string knicks and my killer heels, I turned to face him, my folded arms covering and cupping my boobs, my nipples pushing urgently into my palms.

In a perfect Bond moment that was timed to perfection, he could only stare stunned at me, as the cork popped and some of the Asti poured suggestively out of the bottle. He stood up.

I stalked closer to him using one hand to reach down for the glasses, the other staying in place to hold my now tingling boobs. When I was within a breath's distance, I smiled,

"Ah Mr Bond," I said finally taking a glass in each hand and wrapping both arms around his neck, "I've been expecting you..."

My bare breasts rubbed against his chest as we kissed with a passion even stronger than before.

One of his strong arms wrapped around me pulling me hard into him, his erection almost throbbing against my tummy through his trousers.

We broke eventually for air, out of sheer necessity. His hand left my waist and settled at last on the virtually bare cheek of my arse. I kissed him again.

My arms were now resting against his chest, and he lifted the bottle to carefully pour the now settled wine into the glasses I was holding level.

"So," he sighed, looking closely at my breasts for the first time, "what happens next in your fantasy?"

"Oh," I said, "Well..." I was cut short as he poured a splash of Asti onto my right boob.

"Oh, excuse me," he said putting the bottle down, "Let me get that."

He dipped slowly and extending his tongue, licked from just under the erect tip of me, loving over the nipple and in several long swathes over me.

I gasped as the he paid closer attention to my breast than anyone had in more than two years. It was fantastic.

All too soon he lightly drew his lips over my nip gently sucking and pulling back, not quite biting but enough to add just enough spice. He stood straight, and took one of the glasses I had been struggling hard not to spill,

"To us," he said, raising the glass slightly.

"To... us," I gasped in an almost whisper, leaning back into him to crush my slightly damp boobs against him again.

He downed his glass in one, and placed it by the bottle, I did likewise, and smiling into his face, delighted at the grin I got in return.

"What I WAS going to say, before you interrupted me, was that Mr Bond gets very well looked after, I started to unbutton his shirt from the neck and slid a hand under to rub through the course hair on his chest. I lightly kissed his cheek, and dropped to my knees before him; feeling him flinch as I touched his trouser fly, I added in a whisper, "Very VERY well looked after..."

Reaching in I found his boxers and pulled them down over him to allow his erection its freedom. Pulling it free of the constriction I finally gazed on what was the finest specimen I had ever seen and just as a guess must have reached 7 or more inches out from his groin.

"This is wonderful," I said gazing at it, before looking up into his shocked face, "is this all for me?" He smiled and nodded.

"Oh yeah."

Lightly pumping on its length, I reached inside his trousers and felt for his balls, gently lifting them free. While I wanted him to be comfortable, part of my pregnancy wank fantasy was for my Mr Bond to be dressed – dressed and stood over me while I was knelt naked before him but for my shoes as I blew him to orgasm!

I licked him from the base of his penis up along the shaft pausing to lick around the head, tasting the tiny pearl of moisture that sprang from the slit at the end. I dragged my tongue down again hearing him gasp for the seventh or eighth time in the last minute.

My tongue travelled back up until I slid the purple head between my lips and into my mouth, sucking my cheeks in and flicking my tongue over his crown.

Finally I began to fuck him with my mouth, letting my tongue rub aver the sensitive join beneath his helmet. He groaned at each pump of my mouth, and I gently massaged his balls, while holding one the other hand against his groin at the base of him, that hand would start to wank this monster as soon as I was ready to receive him.

I started to rock my head back and forth over his cock, enjoying the heat and the control I had over him. That was the thing though, my fantasy was for his hands to be either side of my head and fucking my mouth.

"Sarah," he gasped, "Be careful, I don't think I can..."

I pulled off of him wanking his saliva wet prick firmly, "Oh, don't worry about that, Mr Bond," I said, "I'm ready for absolutely anything you might want to do with me, or to me for that matter - no need to hold back... anything." I closed my eyes, fed the head of his penis back into my mouth and sucked, pumping harder with my fist, I wanted him to come in my mouth!

As if he was reading my mind, with a groan he placed both hands either side of my face, and started to fuck my mouth keeping enough of a gentle rhythm to enjoy himself and still fulfilling everything I had dreamed about. Almost without realising it, my hand that had been massaging his balls had snaked down under the elastic of my knicks and was massaging my sopping clit, flicking lightly but firmly over the bud and the sensitive flesh around it.

"Shit..." I heard him gasp as his thrusts stopped and he pushed forward into my mouth as far as the hand wanking him would allow. The swollen head released its treasure and I tasted his salty semen as it squirted onto my tongue, and hard against the back of my throat. My slight gagging had him pulling out of my mouth, just in time to squirt his last rope of come against my lips and chin. I continued wanking him, drawing the last life from him and licking it like nectar.

"There," I said swiping my tongue out as far as it would go, "Was that OK?"

For an answer he reached down and lifted me to my feet almost without effort.

"Sarah, that was fantastic, thank you," pulled me into a hug and kissed me, right where his come had splashed me a few moments before.

"You are most welcome," I slipped my arms around his neck, and kissed him back, feeling his hands all over my back.

"Wow," he said, "A small glass of something while I recover and before I return the compliment." He waved his hand towards the small bed indicating that I should sit, while he refilled both glasses of the still fizzy wine.

I took mine and laid back on the bed kicking off my shoes that, while turning me on like hell, had actually started to dig in a bit!

He undressed himself without haste, kicking off shoes, and sliding down his trousers to leave them as a black mess on the floor. Finally he shed his white shirt and tie and moved across to the bed to sip his wine and sit next to me.

His torso was quite splendid and I rubbed a hand across his chest, revelling in the short wiry hair, my ex was always a bit of a pretty boy and always had his waxed – not sure if that was what made me like it.

He smiled pleasantly and leaned over me and kissed me on the lips.

"Hmm, this is nice," he said sipping gently and stroking my hair, "Chilled wine, chilled Gary and a naked goddess on the bed,"