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Sally and I had been close friends and both of knew we could have been more. But our timing was never quite right. When we met, I was her teacher. I should explain, she and I were graduate students at the same time. She was working on her masters, me my PhD. I taught a Logic class and she needed the credit. I remember being surprised to see her in the grad-student office leaning over my office-mates desk and straightening her block stocking with her skirt hiked up nearly halfway up her ass. She had a tight body, fiery shoulder length red hair. She had alabaster skin and emerald green eyes. I tried to remember that she was one of my students and to keep it in my pants as it were.
When I discovered she was visiting my office mate, who she had dated briefly, I was a little relieved. I discovered that she was another grad-student, and I penciled her into the ‘could be’ list in my mind, once the class was over, that is. I still had some morals.
She did pretty well in the class, and in the meantime we developed a pretty good friendship. But a semester is a pretty long time to go without a date, so I was still looking around during that time. So was she. We may no official plans after all, that in itself would have been an ethics violation. So when the semester finally came to an end, we were both in relationships.
We remained friends and over the course of the next few years we both drifted into an out of relationships, but never once in that time we were both available in the same time. We still flirted and spent enough time together that both sets of significant others would complain, and our mutual friends would raise their eyebrows and wonder when we would finally get together.
We never did. We were best friends, confidants, and partners in a hundred and one things. We studied together, went drinking together, worked out together, and were there for each other when needed. Each of these things had, for me at least, some erotic content. I am a sucker for a smart witty woman, and Sally was smart. She could trade barbs with the best of them. She also seemed to respect my intellect, she seek out my advice or opinion and seemed genuinely interested in what I had to say. We would speak so candidly with each other, describing romantic and sexual pasts that the temperature would rise just from our words. Our physical relationship consisted of dancing and exercise. We both loathed the gym, but would drag each other to it for our own good. She hardly looked like she needed it. When I would spot her at the weight bench, he shirt soaking with sweat, her chest heaving with the effort, it was difficult for my fantasies to stay just fantasies. She would kneel on my feet when it was my turn to do sit ups, Leaning over me like that, I could see down her top to her small but firm breasts. I know she knew I could see them. In fact she would joke about it, egging me on to do more sit-ups just for the free show. I was glad my baggy sweat pants would hide any erection I would get. Half the time we wouldn’t end up at the gym though, one of us would drag the other out for ice-cream, a beer or some other treat. We’d indulge in these temptations, in every temptation except he one we desperately wanted to. Still, doing so was like carrying on a clandestine affair. We felt dirty and sneaky dodging the gym and heading to our favorite bar instead.
When we went out drinking, she would smoke and drink like a champ. She could out drink me, but not without loosening her tongue. She would talk dirty, pine for her lack of sex and dance seductively. We both felt strongly against infidelity, and yet we both cheated on our respectively partners, just with other people. It was like we could not cheat on them with each other, because then our relationship would be one of cheating. And that wouldn’t happen, or so I thought. We came fairly close. We’d lie next to each and nap, we’d hold hands as we toured the galleries up north. We’d give other gentle massages when we were studying too hard. But whatever it was, something stood in our way. Either our existing relationships or the elephant in the room.
We had one significant difference that helped keep things from ever developing. She was a devout catholic, me an atheist. She went far to convert me from a Capital ‘A’ Atheist, one who actively sought to dissuade or ridicule others who had belief, to a just plain atheist, one who didn’t believe. It was refreshing to find a religious person who could articulate her beliefs well, and who had little interest in converting me. We would joke about me going to hell, or her participation in a mythic cult. It was part of our flirtation, something that gave fire to our debates and our verbal fencing. But it also served as a permanent roadblock to a long term relationship. She wanted to marry another catholic, or barring that, another christian who could, in good faith (no pun intended) raise her children in the religion. I wanted nothing to do with religion, but I will tell, atakent escort I came this close to converting, if only to have her. We talked about how important that was. And I knew, I could not lie to my trusted friend, my love, about something so central to her. I was both saddened and frustrated by this, but managed to look on the bright side of things, I had a wonderful friend, and that much at least was something we could do with complete honesty.
Eventually she got her masters and headed off to the east coast to get a doctorate. I was not thrilled at losing my best friend, though we both made promises to stay in touch. I had been in a relationship for two years, it was okay, but not what I wanted forever. She was too negative, too self interested and too critical to be someone I would consider marrying, and having children with, but in the desert of our university, she was better than nothing. I was contemplating ending it, but with no one else to replace her, it seemed pointless. In retrospect I would’ve broken off with her long before, But I was not a good one at that. I didn’t like making people unhappy, except myself. In any case, there was no hope for something with Sally since she was leaving so soon.
Sally was getting ready drive out east, and looking about how to do it. She surprised me one day by asking me if I would drive out with her and then fly back. I had considered heading out there anyway, since I had a relative diagnosed with cancer that I wanted to visit. We made the plans to drive out there nice and slowly. We would leave the same day as the moving truck, and take ten days to make the journey.
The nights before the trip I could think of little else. I considered breaking up with my girlfriend, and staying with Sally out east. But that would also mean throwing away years of graduate work. I fantasized about the two of us hooking up somewhere along the way, just for the trip, just to see what we were missing, But it seemed so shallow and dirty. Remember she was my best friend, my close confident, the woman I secretly love, I couldn’t have a tawdry affair with her, and I knew she would not with me. She knew our friendship was too valuable, and that if she shared any of my feelings it would only lead to one of us to compromise our values. I was of two minds. One side of me was plotting various scenarios that led to our getting together. The other was trying to figure a strategy to prevent myself from sayings or doing something stupid that might end our friendship on a sour note.
The trip came and started off smoothly. We drove through the desert for miles and miles. We sang along with the car stereo, we played the role of newlyweds on a great journey, since everywhere we went people assumed we were a couple. I enjoyed this time alone with her, and spent a god part of it just watching her. When she drove, I would pretend to be asleep, but crack one eye open. I probably memorized her form from that angle. Her long smooth legs, the shape of her elbow. Her beautiful green eyes, the way her hair would fall and rise with the bumps of the road. I could see her shorts get pushed up her legs as she leaned back when she drove. I could make out her white bra through the gap in her tank top. The curves of her breasts were hidden for the most part, but would appear every now and then when she would yawn and stretch unconsciously.
When I drove she seemed to sleep soundly and I would fantasize about dropping a hand to her sleeping body. I would imagine running my hands along those sexy legs, or to run my fingers through her red hair. I could see the swell of her breasts rising and falling with her deep breathing as she slept. She might turn in her seat and expose her cleavage to me. It would be difficult in those cases to keep my eyes on the road and my hands off of either her or myself.
We drove the length of Texas, stopping only in San Antonio for a night of Salsa dancing and margaritas, and a morning of hangovers and more driving. By nightfall the next day we made it to New Orleans. We planned on staying there a couple of nights. Sally had a friend there we could visit with, and we thought we needed a longer stop to rest ourselves, and enjoy the big easy. We got a room with two beds out on Magnolia street and thought we’d go see the town. Poor Sally though felt sick, her hangover turned into a stomach flu or something. She was also grumpy because that night was her birthday. We decided to rest in our room for a few hours and then see if she was able to east some dinner. Just in case, I made reservations at an expensive restaurant well beyond our means. She objected, but I said it would be her birthday present.
By eight o’clock she was hungry (having not eaten all day) though she still felt a little off. Still we put on our best cloths to go out. For me, that was a pair of dockers, and button up shirt. For Sally it was a dark green cocktail dress, ataköy escort you know the kind. It went to mid-thigh, but had a tendency to ride up whenever she sat down. It had spaghetti straps and low cut bust line. I whistled at her when she stepped out of the bathroom. She gave me a dismissive look, clearly she did not feel as good as she looked.
We went to the French Quarter and had a light but tasty meal, we also had a cocktail before dinner, and shared a bottle of wine through dinner. We were a bit sauced and she felt like she wanted to go home. I suggested a walk around the block to clear our heads before retiring and she agreed. We got halfway round the block when we heard the familiar notes of “Mustang Sally” playing loudly out a club.
“Come on” I said, dragging her inside. “it is a sign!”
She put up a little resistance, but soon we were inside dancing and singing along. More drinks followed, more dancing and before we knew it, it was 3 am. We had a great time, and impressed the crowd with our swing dancing skills and Sally’s tireless showmanship. Whatever vestiges of illness she had seemed gone. But exhaustion seems to be catching up. After one long dance, we ended up holding each other close, and I looked into her eyes and suddenly pulled her close kissing her deeply on the mouth. She was surprised and confused. She struggled for a moment then let herself accept my kiss. We kissed for a few seconds in the middle of the dance floor to the hoots and hollers of the crowd around us. The rather abruptly she, pulled away and broke our embrace. We took a breather and finished our drinks, talked to a couple sitting next to us, and then decided to head back to our hotel. I could tell she was apprehensive. I tried to make light of the whole thing and let her put it into the context of our dancing.
“That was a blast!” I said as we boarded the trolley that went to our hotel.
“Yeah, but I wasn’t expecting a kiss.” she said as we piled onto the bench seating close to each other. She edged away slightly and looked serious.
“Sorry about that, I got caught up in the moment.” I offered keeping my distance.
“Well, its okay, as long as you don’t think it meant anything.” She offered then added “and it doesn’t happen again.”
I feigned looking a very insulted, though inside I truly hurt. ‘Was it that bad?” I mocked complained.
“No, not bad, its just. Listen, we’ve been through this, right? I’m going to to grad-school, you’re staying in your program. Not to mention you are seeing someone.” She added.
“Okay… sorry.” I replied. “I guess I am a little drunk.” Which was true, but it wasn’t my reason. I would’ve kissed stone sober. And though I could feel the alcohol, I knew what I was doing.
“That’s okay, you know it wasn’t too bad. Now I guess I can see what all those other girls saw in you.” She said flirtatiously.
I scooted a little closer to her and gave her a gentle hug. She pulled my closer and held me tightly.
“I am going to miss you…” I started sullenly.
“No! We are not going to talk about that.” She said sternly. “This is supposed to be fun. It is not a funeral. Beside we are still going to be friends, just not in the same place. It happens.” She finished angrily.
“Alright, alright.” I said. “You know, I love you, and you will never be out of my life.” I said half seriously.
“yeah yeah I love you too” she said, though she probably meant it in a different way.
We snuggled in close and I could finally smell her hair, and her body. All the dancing had gotten her sweaty and warm. It smelled so good I just wanted to bite into her right there on the trolley. Eventually we made it back to our stop, and stumbling off the trolley we made our way down the tree lined avenue. She needed my support, and I probably needed hers so we awkwardly made our way giggling to the hotel. We made it into the lobby and caught the elevator. Alone inside the confined space I stood a little too close to her, looking into her eyes. I must have been leering at her because she looked away blushing and then gave me a little push.
“Stop it.” she protested with a laugh.
“Stop what? “I said, leaning on my arm which was planted on the wall of the elevator just touching her shoulder.
“Stop looking at me like that.” She replied.
“Like what?” I said innocently.
“All sexy like that.” She complained.
“Oh now I am sexy huh?”
“I never said you weren’t sexy. But we said.” She squirmed in the confined space.
“Sally, I haven’t kissed you again. Have I?”
“No, but you’re so close,” her voice got a little weaker “and I must look awful.”
“You are radiant” I replied. She blushed again.
She was trapped between the side of the elevator and my arm and she started to look like she was searching for an escape. The she turned back, facing me, but looking up and away from me. She was blushing atalar escort even more.
“If I let you kiss me again, will you let me go?” She asked.
“I thought we weren’t supposed to do that.” I replied.
“Come on.” She asked more urgently.
“Okay, since you begged. “I joked.
She stood on her tip toes to give me a little peck. I let her kiss touch me lips but I didn’t respond at all to it. At least I didn’t respond in a way she could easily detect. She increased the pressure and then released looking a little hurt by my lack of cooperation. I dropped my arm to let her move away, but she stood there looking confused.
She was about to say something, when the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened.
We exited the elevator and made for our room silently. She went straight to the bathroom, I kicked off my shoes and went to turn the air conditioning up. It wasn’t working very well, and we’d had several power outages, so the room was sweltering.
“It is really hot in here, and the AC looks shot.” I called out.
“Wonderful.” She said.
“I’ll get some ice.” I replied and left the room in my stocking feet. When I returned she had changed from her dress to her pajamas. They were not intended to be sexy, full pants, a button shirt, in a plain cotton print. But she looked gorgeous to me. And I noticed she had cleaned up a little, and reapplied her makeup rather than remove it. The top two buttons of her pajamas were undone and she had her hair up in a ponytale. She sat on the edge of her bed using a magazine as a makeshift fan.
I put the ice bucket down and unwrapped two plastic glasses. I filled them with ice and then added water. I handed one to her, and she immediately dug into the glass, rescued an icecube and rubbed it on her neck and the top of her chest. Her skin seemed to change colors slightly when she did so.
I took a swig from my glass and sat down opposite her on my bed. I unbuttoned the top couple of buttons from my shirt and pulled off my socks. Without another thought I pulled my pants off and threw them across the room to my suitcase. I was in my boxer briefs. and a half open shirt now.
She tried to look nonchalant. She had seen me in less before, swimming or changing. But she seemed a little more troubled now.
“Do you have to sit there in those?” She complained averting her eyes.
“Sally, it is so hot in here. What do you want me to do?” I responded.
“Oh fine, never mind.” She finished and then she took a long drink from the glass, tipping it high and draining its contents. Some of the water missed her mouth and cascaded down onto her light cotton pajama top drenching it in places. She tried to catch it but ended up with water soaking her top just on her collar and her breasts. It was lcear that she was not wearing a bra as her flesh was soon visible through the cotton. Her nipples poked through the wet and now transparent fabric. I felt a stirring in my underwear. She looked a little self conscious but the cool air must of felt good, because she grunted with pleasure and waved some more air in her direction. This of course caused her nipples to grow even more. Soon they were making little tents of the wet fabric. I couldn’t look away. I was mesmerized by them and the effect the cold water had on her. She caught herself and looked at me looking at her.
“Hello..” she said sarcastically. “Had a good enough look there hot shot?” She said laughing. Then seeing the bulge growing in my underwear, she smiled a bit. “Oh I guess so, if that has any say in the matter.”
Now it was my turn to blush. I tried to turn so my erection would be hidden by my shirt or legs, and only succeeding and freeing it up a little so it pushed against the cloth of briefs and made a little tent.
“Not still angry at me I guess.” She said smiling at me but merciful moving her gaze from my crotch.
“I wasn’t angry.” I said calmly pulling my shirt over my erection and moving further away up the bed.
“Then why didn’t you kiss me?” She asked sincerely.
“I thought you didn’t want me to kiss you.” I replied. “You said..”
“I know what I said, but on the elevator you were looking like you wanted it.”
“I did… I do. But I am not going to play games with you.” I replied. “I want you to want it.”
“Gary,” she said looking. “this can’t work. I am leaving, you are involved.”
“So you don’t want it?” I asked.
“That’s not important.” She looked away.
“So you do!” I moved a little closer.
“No. I don’t want to get involved with you, and then have to say goodbye. I don’t want to be the other woman. I don’t want to be the one who wonders where you are.” She started to cry a little.
I moved to her bed and sat behind her, I gently held her shoulders in as non sexual away as I could.
“Hey, hey” I said soothingly, “It’s okay, don’t worry about it. We don’t have to do anything?” I gave her a little squeeze.
She turned in my arms but made no motion to push me away.
“I didn’t want this to happen. We were just supposed to have a nice week and then move on. See each other one a decade, share baby photos and christmas cards. You screwed everything up.” She was still on he verge of sobbing.
“Sorry, I didn’t know you had this so planned out.” I replied.
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