Bosom Buddies Ch. 04

Though the sex had been incredible, post orgasm neither Talia nor I were feeling particularly lovey-dovey. We had been there for each other during a frustrating, confusing time, but we both knew we simply were not relationship material for each other, and that was perfectly fine.

I'd felt nothing resembling the avalanche of emotions I'd experienced after my first time with Stephanie, just a sense of overwhelming relief and a transcendent physical pleasure. A different kind of love, I suppose. Talia and I finished the night as "friends," but not necessarily "just friends," watching Happy Gilmore of all things and study-buddying for our APs.

It wasn't exactly fun seeing Stephanie at school the next day, but I had made my peace with the situation. I didn't really know what to say to her, so things were unusually "polite" when we bumped into each other between first and second period. We acted like two people who barely knew each other.

Between second and third period, Stephanie went out of her way to make sure we crossed paths again. I could see the deep worry on her face as she pulled me in for a frantic hug, words of contrition tripping over each other as they fell from her mouth:

"I couldn't sleep last night, I felt so bad about how I treated you yesterday. There must have been a million better ways to say what I said, but I just blurted it all out like some heartless bitch."

"Steph," I interjected.

"No, just let me finish! I'm trying to say I really, really screwed up, and I wish I hadn't. I never expected things to get so confusing. I can't stand the thought of this ruining our friendship, or whatever it is we have now. It's true, I don't like you in the same way I like Simon, but you still mean more to me than he does. If it'll make things ok between us again, I'll break things off with him. I will, I promise."

"It's okay, Steph, I don't want you to do that. You didn't do anything wrong, I did. Everything's been changing so fast, I lost perspective on reality for a bit. I talked with Talia last night, and she kind of put my brain on track again."

Steph let out a huge sigh of relief, thanking me for being so understanding. We both checked our watches; passing period only lasted five minutes and we were running out of time. "I know what you mean about things happening too fast," she finally added, "I feel like most couples I know spent months and months slowly working their way up to having sex. We jumped in the deep end with no idea how to swim."

"Yeah, I wasn't ready for how that first time would feel. Still, I'm glad it was with you."

"You too," she sighed, giving me a quick, sweet kiss on the lips. I knew that little kiss was probably the last she and I would ever share. "You made my first time perfect."

As we both hurried off to our next classes, I told myself that this was going to be okay. Simon Rhee was a good enough guy, and I knew he would treat my Stephanie like a princess.

Wait—I thought—rephrase: she isn't "my Stephanie" anymore. Just "Stephanie."

During lunch, Talia and I revealed to the others that we had hooked up. Most of the other girls shrugged it off as "one of those things," but Stephanie got very quiet.

"You okay, Steph?" Talia asked, genuinely concerned. "Are you mad at us?"

"No! Of course not," was the reply. But she faltered, reluctantly correcting her response to, "I guess maybe I'm a little mad. A little jealous. But I'll be okay. I've got no right to be, I just wasn't... expecting it."

I draped an arm across her shoulders and her eyes turned pink. I promised her, "I wasn't trying to hurt you. I just needed some—uh, well, I just needed some."

Talia blushed, adding, "Me too."

For a long time, Stephanie didn't make a sound. My insides tied in knots. Then she finally smiled and said, "You know, it's weird, but part of me is actually relieved? I was carrying around all this guilt about breaking things off with you, so it's sort of a weight off my shoulders. I'll be okay."

I thought that would be the end of the fallout from my sexy evening with Talia, but there was one more moment, later that day, that really threw me for a loop. When Amy and I finished our after-school run, my hot redheaded buddy gave me a congratulatory pat on the back and whispered, "Two down, three to go, stud."

"Hold on--What?"

"First Stephanie, now Talia. Two down, three to go."

"It's not like that," I insisted.

Amy just laughed, "What do you mean, 'it's not like that?' You expect me to believe you don't dream about fucking each and every one of us? I bet you jerk off thinking about one of us every single night."

No! I thought. Well, technically yes, but—

I wasn't going to stand for Amy's insinuation. I looked her dead in the eyes and said, "I do dream about you. Every single night since I've known you girls. And not just one at a time, either. I imagine myself fucking every combination of threesome, foursome, fivesome, or even fucking all of you at the same time. I dream of fucking you in the swimming pool, in the girls' locker room, in the great outdoors, and in the far reaches of space."

"Would you, could you, on a boat?" she joked, "Would you, could you, with a goat?"

"Exactly. Well, maybe not with a goat. But, pathetic and perverted as I may be, I have never, NEVER thought of you girls as a damn checklist. You're my best friends, and when I say it's not like that, I mean it's just not like that."

Amy was a hard person to ruffle. Even when she was genuinely upset, she typically just covered it up with bravado or sarcasm. But somehow, my little speech had struck an unexpected cord and shaken her. It took Amy a second to pull her thoughts together.

"You're a weird guy, Ian."

I shrugged, knowing it was Amy's version of a compliment. She thought hard about something for a second, then it was her turn to look me dead in the eyes as she added, "I'm gonna fuck you, someday. I don't know when, exactly, and neither will you. But I promise you, one of these days I am gonna blow your fucking mind."

For a moment, I felt small and timid in the face of what she had just said. Amy was aggressive, adventurous, and way more experienced than I was. Plus her lithe dancer's body was a scorching fireball of hotness. My throat tightened and my tongue froze up—

But only for a moment. I recalled the look on Amy's face when I had made her cum underneath that towel a few weeks earlier, and felt a sudden surge of confidence. Maybe I would blow her mind as well.

"You're on," I answered.

They say a watched pot never boils, but I was watching that damn pot for over a week, and I gotta say, I got pretty close to boiling over. Every time Amy made eye contact with me, I held my breath in anticipation. Was today the day?

Nope. I guess today was just Tuesday. Dammit! Sometimes, she would be able to guess what I was thinking, and in those cases, her response was always the same: "Not yet, stud. Not today."

Looking back, I should really thank Amy for taking my mind off having to see Stephanie and Simon Rhee holding hands everywhere I went. Though I admit this grudgingly, I could see why Stephanie liked him so much. Having moved to the United States from Korea three years ago, the then 15-year-old Simon had been friendless and alone in a country where he hadn't exactly mastered the language. Maybe because of that, he developed a sweet-natured, soft-spoken personality, almost like a male version of Elizabeth (which maybe explained why he was such a good fit for Stephanie). He had a swimmer's build, with impressive muscle tone I was a bit jealous of, and that triangular shaped torso you only get from a lifetime in the water. He was also tall for an Asian dude, maybe an inch shorter than my 5'11".

More than once, I overheard the girls giggling about how much they were looking forward to Spring Break, and getting to see a lot more of Simon in his speedo.

Much as I resented Simon for infringing upon the perfect little social utopia I had with my girls, I just couldn't dislike the guy. He was one of those rare people who is genuinely nice to everyone. The fact that he and I had pretty much the exact same taste in video games didn't exactly hurt his cause, either.

In the months I had known them, my girls had dated plenty of guys; some were assholes, some were awesome, but nobody before Simon had clicked with the rest of us. Our group of six became a group of seven. I watched with a mixture of jealousy and pity as shy, sweet Simon tried to survive the same gauntlet of flirting and teasing I had endured during the early months of my friendship with the girls. Stephanie protectively kept some of her friends' more overt behavior at bay, but there was nothing she could do to keep her man's eyes from wandering to Corrine's expansive, swaying bosom every time the stacked Nordic babe so much as leaned over.

One time, when we were all hanging out at Stephanie's, Corrine showed up dressed in a little pink knit vest meant for a much shorter woman. At nearly six feet tall and wearing literally nothing else on her chest, Corrine looked positively ridiculous. The garment pulled so tightly around her breasts that the knit stretched loose, hinting at the luscious skin and pink nipples beneath. Corrine's height also essentially transformed it into a belly shirt, and its plunging scoop neck revealed an obscene amount of mouthwatering cleavage.

Amy burst out laughing at the sight. "Oh my God, Cor, that's hilarious! Whose is that?"

"Mine," Corrine answered, grinning naughtily at our combined reactions. "From about six years ago. I found it in the attic."

I could think of nothing I wanted to do more than to rip that vest off with my bare hands and ravage Corrine's impossibly fine body, smothering my face with her huge tits.

Stephanie teasingly prodded an utterly stunned Simon, "What do you think of Corrine's outfit, honey?"

"Uh!" Simon jumped a bit, fumbling to respond, "I think it looks..."

He just trailed off, unable to tear his eyes away from her rack. We all cracked up at Simon's non-response, and the guy turned a deep scarlet, profusely apologizing to both Corrine and Stephanie. Old pro that I was, I took him aside a bit later and assured him, man-to-man, that this kind of thing was just a form of hazing for any guy that wanted to be friends with these girls.

"It will be both the best, and the worst thing in your life."

Simon just nodded, still embarrassed.

Elizabeth came over to me after Simon had rejoined the others. Ever since the night of our first threesome with Stephanie, Liz had started dressing a lot less modestly. Today she was wearing a sparkling purple top with spaghetti straps and a plunging neckline. Her cleavage looked fantastic.

"Giving the new guy some pointers on how to survive all the teasing?" she asked.

"Yeah, though I think he'll have an easier time of it than I did, what with Stephanie to take out his frustrations on."

Elizabeth gave me a funny look, then pressed: "Has Stephanie not told you?"

"Told me what?"

Elizabeth hesitated, but ultimately decided I deserved to know: "She's not sleeping with Simon. She wants to wait for prom night. Until then, she's not gonna let him get any further than making out with her and maybe feeling her boobs."

Steph had been such a nymphomaniac during our two weeks together, I couldn't believe it. All my jealousy towards Simon suddenly evaporated and was replaced with a swell of sympathy. To actually have a girl like Stephanie, but not be able to do anything sexual with her? Prom was still two months away! By then, I was sure Steph would have poor this guy so wound up, he wouldn't last more than two seconds.

"Why not?" I asked.

Elizabeth took my hand in hers, and quietly answered, "I think she's still getting over you."

I rolled my eyes. "Getting over me? Come on, that doesn't even make sense, Liz. I was the one that got dumped!"

"That's because she's liked Simon since forever. She wants to be with him, but just wanting to be with someone new doesn't mean she doesn't miss being with you. I know I do."

Her gaze trailed down my body, and I saw the physical longing in her eyes; saw her flashing back to the handful of hot nights the two of us had shared with Stephanie. I took a step towards Elizabeth, comfortably draping my arms around her waist. She had to lean back to look up at me, unconsciously lifting those spellbinding tits of hers up towards my face.

"You know, you and I don't have to miss that stuff," I whispered back.

But she held her ground: "Yes we do. Until Stephanie has really fully moved on, we do. Or people will get hurt."

I nodded, reluctantly letting her go, wryly thinking to myself that someone was already getting hurt--a certain part of my anatomy was hurting very, very much, thank you.

That night, under the admittedly false pretenses of needing help with some homework, I lured Talia up to my room. Soon as we were alone, it took her all of five seconds to deduce what my real intentions were.

"I'm sorry," she sighed, "but I think I've decided that the next person I'm gonna be with needs to be a girl."

"But—but--I thought we had a really good time together last week!"

"We did! And you helped me shake off all that horrible tension! It was keeping me so wound up, I couldn't even think for two seconds about what it was I really wanted. This whole bisexuality thing is a huge deal to me, and I need to go for it. The easy thing would be for me to just ignore it for now and go back to dating guys like I always did--but then I don't know if I'll ever have the guts to really try it out. And even if I do pursue it in college or whatever, it would be way too easy to just never tell my parents, which would be awful on all kinds of levels."

I guess I understood, but sometimes it sucks being the understanding one. When Talia left I was still so horny I wanted to die. The frustration had become unbearable. After a lifetime with almost no sexual experience, I had suddenly and without warning stepped into a world of never-ending arousal and no less than four gorgeous sexual partners in the space of a month. For a few weeks, I had gotten constant sex, and then it all just went away. Now that I knew what I had been missing all those years, it was torture to go without.

My dreams that night were an all-out assault of sexual imagery:

I saw Amy on all fours, her blazing red hair matted against sweaty skin, glancing back over her shoulder at me while her perfect ass beckoned. A single moist teardrop of arousal dripping from her cunt, down her inner thigh...

"I am gonna fuck you," she purred.

I stalked towards her, my aching, turgid member leading the way. I grabbed hold of her round, firm buttocks and, without preamble, thrust myself inside her from behind, pounding away furiously—doggie-style—the bare breasts I had long imagined swinging crazily as we fucked.

I reached forward to cup those beautiful tits and caught a whiff of Talia's perfume. Somehow, I was now inside Talia! I released one of her breasts and grabbed a handful of long, raven hair, pulling that exotic face back towards me for a fierce, angry kiss. My hips slapped loudly against her juicy ass--

We rolled over, never pulling our lips from each other. She was on top of me now, riding me cowgirl, and the epic tits bouncing against my chest were definitely bigger than Talia's. I looked into the face of my lover—now Stephanie--her eyes scrunched shut in pleasure as she moaned through the early stages of orgasm.

She threw her head back in ecstasy, presenting those beautiful breasts to my hungry eyes. I reached forward, squeezing them for all I was worth, watching the soft bounty of flesh overflow between my fingers—

My lover suddenly lowered her delicious breasts over my pole, looking up at me with Elizabeth's emerald eyes. Those angelic eyes sparkled lovingly as she squeezed her tits around my cock and gave me a world-class titfuck, playfully licking my cockhead on each downward stroke as it burst out the top of her amazing cleavage--

Then she was Corrine, laying on her back, and I was straddling her chest. She grabbed her own unbelievably large, oiled tits and squeezed them together lustily. I rudely shoved my cock into the cleave of that ripe, mountainous bosom, watched it completely disappear from sight with each thrust—felt the weight of my balls sliding across her chest--

My lover's unprovoked orgasm exploded in my mind like a kaleidoscope: Corrine screamed in pleasure. Talia screamed in pleasure. Amy screamed in pleasure. Stephanie screamed in pleasure. And Elizabeth screamed out my name.

"Agh!" I awoke with a cry, filling my boxers with hot, bubbling cum.

I got virtually no sleep that night. The next day at school I could hardly focus on anything. I barely spoke. I was a zombie in class. It felt like my body had rerouted so much blood to my cock that I was operating solely on my reptile brain: EAT. SLEEP. PROCREATE.

After school, I trailed behind Amy on our run, ragged with arousal. We finally came to a stop, the exercise doing nothing to calm me down. Why the hell did she have to wear a sports bra when we went running? Why couldn't she wear a parka or a cardboard box? Her nipples stared me in the face through the thin material.

"Are you busy the rest of the day?" she asked casually.

I swallowed. Was this going to be the day, at long last, when she followed through on her promise to blow my mind? I had a huge paper due the next day, but who cared?

"Nah, not really," I answered.

"Well, then maybe you could help me out with something. I guarantee you'll like it a whole lot."

That sounded promising. I shrugged, trying to disguise my absolute eagerness to follow her home. We got changed and started walking.

"So," I asked, "does this mean your dad is working the night shift again?"

"No, he's home."

I scratched my head for a moment, still operating off my reptile brain. "Then... we're not going to your house?"

"No," she answered matter-of-factly, "we're going to the mall."

Oh. Lame.

But it turned out not to be quite as lame as I had feared. Amy explained that, with Spring Break almost upon us, she wanted to buy a sexy new swimsuit to wear to the beach.

"I got the idea in my head when you had that pool party last month, and every girl but me had a fun suit to wear. I've always worn my swim team uniform as a matter of principal, I guess. You know, declaring to the world, 'I'm a jock, and I'm proud of it!' But this year I want to try something different. I want to wear something that makes all the boys at the beach sit up and go 'Whoa!'"

"And you want my advice?"

"Well, more like your reaction. You are a boy."

It was true. I had a painful reminder of the fact between my legs at that very moment.

The local mall had a special shop that catered to expensive women's swimwear, and Amy made an immediate beeline for them. As I watched her pick up various skimpy pieces of fabric to try on, I couldn't help but salivate at the prospect of what I was about to see. Some of those outfits were made with less material than my shoelaces.

When Amy was finally satisfied with her selection, we hurried back to the secluded area with the changing rooms—

But a stern-faced young woman stopped me from following my friend. "I'm sorry sir, no men allowed past here."

Amy wasn't gonna take any of that. She angrily placed her hands on her hips and got up in the woman's face:

"Listen, lady, these swimsuits are ridiculously expensive, and I need my friend's input on which one I look best in. You let him through, and I'll buy something. You keep being a pain, and you've just lost yourself a sale."

The woman glared intensely at Amy for about thirty seconds, then just gave up and wandered over to a customer on the other side of the store, pointedly not looking at us.