More Than Friends Page 3

  All through the night I was touching myself, but I wasn’t able to cum. The thoughts that maybe, just maybe, the real thing was actually possible, if horrendously implausible.

  It took some time, but I finally decided that I was making a mountain out of a molehill. If he were attracted to me, he’d make a move, wouldn’t he? What reason would he have for holding back?

  Him looking at me and everything else was just natural curiosity. I recounted times were I glanced at my Dad in some compromising situations, just out of sheer morbid curiosity. It didn’t mean I wanted to do things with him.

  Those words? I was just hallucinating. Or overhearing someone else. It was a dorm. As far as we know, every room beside us could have had people fucking one another and declaring their puppy love like that.

  It was the only way to stay sane, study a bit by myself, and get through the day. I was heading back to his place tonight and we had to get it done. We couldn’t screw around with wardrobe malfunctions and spilling soda again.

  My feet were made of lead though as I headed into the building. It took a lot of effort on my part to head toward his room, and the thoughts still echoed in my head no matter how much I was struggling to suppress them in my mind.

  Knocking on his door, I found myself hoping something came up for him.

  Unfortunately, he answered. This time though, he was fully clothed, shoes and all. “Dana, glad you’re here. Ready to really hit the books?” He was smiling, and his smile was much wider than I was used to.

  “Hi, Ian,” I said, walking in, and putting my book bag on the table and sitting down on the side of his bed this time. He closed the door behind me and sat in a chair across from me. “Yeah, I need to make sure all this stuff is jammed in my head nice and good. The test is tomorrow.”

  “I know. I really want you to pass it, Dana. It’s a point of pride for me.”

  “Not hopeful right now, but I don’t want to let you down.”

  “It’s hard for you to let me down,” he said, his shit eating grin still on. “We need to make it interesting, too. If we just pour over books, you’re going to get bored and forget all this.”

  “I can’t forget it. It’s too important.”

  “No, no, I read somewhere that the best way to make sure knowledge stays in your head for a test is to make it funner than just keeping your eyes glued to a book for hours. You need to associate it with something you enjoyed doing.”

  “What, you want me to play Candy Crush while we study?”

  “Not so much that. Let’s do something of a bet. A dare. Whatever you want the call it.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Go on. Anything to make this less tedious.”

  “I’m going to quiz you about your anthropology exam tomorrow. Every time you get an answer right, I’ll take something off.”

  I froze as he spoke. “Take something off? Like clothes?”

  “Yes. If you get it wrong though, you have to take something off.”

  “Like get naked?” I said, my expression still flat.

  “That means you’re doing kind of poorly, yes.”

  I was silent, and I couldn’t look him in the eye. What was his deal? “And then what happens?”

  “If the other person is naked and they have to take something off, they have to take a dare. Like, streaking or something. You know, college stuff. We’re in college. We do things like this. It’ll make it fun.”

  My head turned to look at his expression. He seemed earnest about what he was proposing. My head was a cloud of conflict, I didn’t want to test my attraction to Ian even more, but at the same time there was nothing I wanted more than to see his naked body in front of me.

  What did he get out of it? Was he doing this because he wanted to see me naked? Or maybe he knew that I had a crush on him but he didn’t feel the same, so this was his way of innocently indulging me and tutoring me at the same time?

  “Dana? Are you not comfortable with this? It’s not like we haven’t seen each other naked before.”

  “Ian, we were ten. Things have changed for both of us. A lot. Like, in this case, eleven years is a lot.”

  “Or are you just afraid you’ll lose?”

  I laughed. I didn’t know what his game was. Even if he were only ever my friend, I had little to believe his intent was cruel. “Fuck it, let’s do this. Let’s see that little wiener of yours shrivel when I make you run around campus showing it off.”

  Adrenaline hit me as I agreed to it. What had I gotten myself into? I had to win, just to get out of this with the status quo intact. The nice, comfortable status quo.

  “Always had that competitive streak in ya, Dana.”

  I took a deep breath and sat tall across from him. Really, what the hell did I just agree to?

  Ian grabbed a book, and opened it up. “Ready yourself Dana. Your knowledge of anthropology is all that stands between you and me introducing you to the rest of the dorm as my nudist friend from Europe.”

  “Ha, ha,” I sarcastically replied. It was easing me to think that this wasn’t sexual for him, as sexual as it was for me.

  “Are you ready? We’re going to start easy.”

  “Hit me, I’m ready for ya, Ian.”

  “Name me the four sub-fields of anthropology.”

  “Christ, you are starting easy. Biological, archeology, socio-cultural, and linguistic. What are you taking off then?”

  “I may have thrown a softball at you because I don’t like wearing shoes in my own place anyway.” He reached down, pulled off his shoes pretty quickly, and for good measure, took off his socks as well. “Just so we don’t bullshit it, this all counts as one.”

  “Sure, sure.” I nibbled on my lip, wondering just how I would react to a more and more naked Ian in front of me. I had to keep my composure, I argued with myself.

  “Slightly less trivial. How does the contemporary approach to ethnography differ from more classical research?”

  “Uh,” I blinked, thinking and comparing what I knew about it. “It’s more holistic now?”

  “Less. It’s less holistic. Blatantly wrong, so I guess you get to get comfortable too.”

  “I always get that mixed up. Argh.” I cursed myself and took off my shoes as well. I had lost my one guard against showing Ian anything remotely enticing.

  Well unless he had a foot fetish, but I really doubted that.

  “Now that we’re both nice and comfortable, we’re at the point someone is going to have to show some skin.” He flipped some pages in the book, coming to a new passage. “Give me the gist of what Herbert Spencer’s contributions to the field are.”

  “Oh, I know this one,” I was searching my mind. Who was this Herbert Spencer guy? One of the presidents? No, that was Hoover. “Um.”

  “Do you know, Dana? Do I have to start running a clock?” He started humming the Jeopardy theme.

  “Shit,” I murmured. I didn’t want to get this wrong. I didn’t want to get anything else wrong. I had to try though. “Um, he was an archaeologist who discovered the cro-magnon man?”

  Ian shook his head. “Nope. Way off. Totally different field. Spencer drew comparisons between cultures and biological organisms, and also drew comparisons that the impact climate has on culture.”

  I gritted my teeth. “Okay, next question.”

  “Whoa, whoa, Dana. You gotta take something off.”

  Damn, that didn’t work. What was I worried about, anyway? It was just a bra. He’d seen me in a bikini before. Countless times. Out on the beach, in the pool, on particularly hot summer days. I wasn’t showing off much.

  Still, I wasn’t happy about it. I started to pull my shirt up and over my head, the cool air of the room tickling my flesh. When the shirt was gone, I caught Ian’s eyes focused on my bra, and the copious cleavage it was revealing.

  I swallowed. “I guess you’re liking what you’re seeing?”

  “A man can appreciate beauty, can’t he?”

  I was blushing, and blushing hard. “A
ren’t we supposed to be studying?” I didn’t want to think about what his comments about my body meant. He could say he liked my boobs platonically, right? I mean, my friend Rebecca talked about my boobs all the time.

  She was a lesbian, yes, but I reminded myself that liking my breasts did not automatically equal Ian wanting me sexually.

  I was really starting to stretch my arguments, I started to realize.

  “Oh yes, we are. Pardon me for being distracted.”

  “Ask the next question, Ian.” I took a deep breath. No more screw-ups, I repeated to myself.

  “Alright, alright.” He flipped through the book again to formulate his next question. “What is the traditional progression of belief systems according to Tylor?”

  I rubbed my chin. “Oh yeah, that guy. Really simplistic belief that animism leads to polytheism, and that ultimately leads to monotheism. Remember a Hindi friend really being annoyed at the concept.”

  Ian closed the book. “You got that one. Guess I lose this round.”

  “Off with the shirt then,” I said, playfully. Never mind that his chest would be a distraction I would have to deal with.

  Instead, Ian stood, unbuttoned his pants, and pushed them down his legs.

  “What are you doing?”

  “There’s no rule saying I have to do it in a certain order. I can do this however I please, Dana.”

  I grit my teeth. He sat back down, opening the book up. I couldn’t help but glance over to him and the ample package that was showing through his boxer briefs. I couldn’t help wondering what lied beneath. Maybe I’d get to see it.

  It was a prospect that both terrified and thrilled me at the same time.

  He picked up the book again, looking through. “Alright. Claire Sterk and Prostitution. What did she discover about researching it in the 1980s as far as their openness to discussing their careers and lives?”

  “Oh? That?” I smiled, I knew this one. “The more stigmatized a part of culture is, the harder it is to research. Like, people aren’t open with things when they’re really afraid they’ll get arrested for it. So its hard to get them to give you accurate information for your studies.”

  “Right. I knew you could get it, Dana. You got this.”

  “Now off with the shirt,” I said.

  “You really want to see my chest, don’t you?” He shot me a glance as he stood up again. “Well you’re going to have to wait.”

  I watched as he pushed those boxer briefs down, and saw what I had fantasized about many times in the flesh for the very first time. His cock. I gasped. He was very ample indeed, even when flaccid. A fine specimen that was flanked by two beautiful balls. I wanted to reach out and touch them, but I held back.

  Despite my best efforts, I couldn’t take my eyes off them. Not even as Ian sat down in the chair, letting them hang out. I was now wondering how he would look erect, and how he would feel erect in my hands, against my flesh, in my pussy.

  I started to fidget, as Ian just acted like sitting in front of me with his cock out was the most natural thing in the world. “Alright. Let’s keep going.”

  He flipped through the book. “Name some common criticisms researchers have with ethnography.”

  I couldn’t take my eyes away from what he had just revealed. My mouth was just going on automatic. “I don’t know.”

  “That’s definitely not the answer, Dana.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, still gawking at him.

  “They create narratives sometimes and it undermines the legitimacy of their research is one commonly levied at them. Dana, are you listening?”

  I swallowed.

  “Come on, take something off.”

  I blinked, and nodded. A deep breath, and I undid the button to my shorts, sliding them down my legs. Still, my eyes were locked on his privates. His eyes? Locked on me. His cock was shuddering, perking up as he watched me strip down to my underwear. “You don’t have to stare, you know.”

  “Like you aren’t?”

  I couldn’t deny it, and glanced away. “Are we going to keep going with this?”

  “I still count three articles of clothing between us. What’s the definition of Enculturation?”

  More breaths. “Isn’t that what milk does to become cheese?”

  “That’s not even an answer applicable to anthropology. You’re wrong again, Dana. Take something off.”

  “That wasn’t my real answer!”

  “You shouldn’t have said that then. Enculturation is how culture is transmitted between societies. Come on. Bra or panties.”

  “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

  “I’m winning, that’s for sure.”

  This was it. I reached behind me, and unhooked my bra. Slowly, I started to move it. I contemplated strapping it back on and making a run for it. Fleeing back home in only my underwear. Sure, that’d be embarrassing in itself, but it would also mean that I wouldn’t have to show Ian my breasts.

  “You have nothing to be ashamed of, Dana. You’re absolutely beautiful.”

  What was his game? Why was he doing this to me? I took off the bra and covered myself with my hands.

  “Come on, don’t be like that. Show me.”

  “Why do you want to see them?”

  “Because I am a heterosexual male and you’re a beautiful woman. Isn’t it simple, Dana?”

  “I thought we were friends though.”

  “We are.”

  I took my hands off, and glanced over to Ian. His cock was twitching more, coming to life just as his eyes feasted on me. Sure, I could look in his eyes and try to see his intentions, but his cock was screaming it at this point.

  “Acculturation. What is it?” He said, as if he were now rushing through it.

  “Something about if your college credits are actually valid? I don’t know.” I couldn’t think straight right now. He could have asked me what two plus two equaled and I probably would have answered thirty-seven.

  “Are you even trying? Off with the panties.”

  There was no point in running. Whatever Ian intended to do was going to happen. I just faced the music, and hooked my fingers into the sides of the panties, and slid them down my legs, before standing straight up before him. I didn’t even bother trying to cover myself. I wondered if he could see how aroused he was making me, because I saw how aroused I was making him. His cock was now tall and at attention, pointed straight at me.

  Ian took a few deep breaths. “God, you’re so fucking stunning.”

  I still couldn’t help but blush.

  “One more wrong and you have to do the dare, Dana.”

  Ian tried to thumb through the book, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of me. He looked me up and down, enjoying that he could see every single inch of my naked body.

  “What was um…” He paused.

  “Huh?”

  “Fuck this,” he suddenly said.

  Ian threw down the book and stood up. He pulled off his shirt in a flash and he was right on top of me, pushing me down onto his bed. Kissing me.

  Our lips met and the biggest set of fireworks met in my head. He was kissing me. The man of my dreams, of my fantasies, was kissing me. He was so damn good at it too, his tongue leading mine. His hands were running down my body, every single inch he touched becoming sensitive gooseflesh under him.

  Body against body, I was shocked yet pleased about what was happening, running my hands over his back. God, he was kissing me. My body was pressed against his, and I was so overwhelmed and amazed that this was actually happening. Our eyes were locked with one another, and for the first time, I saw without a doubt that Ian wanted me.

  The kiss broke, all too soon, but anything shorter than forever would have been too soon.

  “I have to have you, Dana. God, I’ve waited so long for you.”

  “I never thought you actually wanted me this way,” I said, still shocked.

  “Who wouldn’t? You’re absolutely gorgeous and you’re my best friend.
There’s no one on this planet more perfect for me than you, Dana.”

  All I could do was smile as he kissed my cheeks, my neck, and down my body. He was running his hands all over. Over my thighs, my ass, and towards my valley. His lips slid down my chest and found my breasts, kissing them, and his fingers going over them, running over my areola and making sure that I was so completely and utterly aroused by him. Little ripples echoed through my body under his touch.

  “Take me, Ian,” I whispered into his ear.

  “No, no. Not yet. I want to enjoy all of you. I want to savor you, Dana. I waited this long for you, so I’m going to enjoy my prize.”

  Damn, I did fantasize about the right guy after all, it seemed.

  He ran his fingers down my abdomen and over my pussy, nicking my clit as he passed. I shuddered as he did so, and knew that was only the tip of the iceberg in what he wanted to do to me tonight.

  Ian ran his finger around my slit, tickling me, building anticipation was he zeroed in on my opening. He teased it even more before he slowly settled it in. “God, you’re so damn wet, Dana. I saw you dripping, but just feeling you I can tell how much you want me. You’ve been waiting for this as long as I have, haven’t you?”

  I nodded enthusiastically, and cooed as he pushed his finger in. He didn’t go all the way in, of course, him shooting me a knowing glare. Ian knew I was still a virgin. He never gave me any shit about it, though. It was just the kind of guy he was, whether I was fucking the entire football team or waiting until marriage, he understood me. He wanted me to be happy. It just made him happy that he was the one I wanted to make me happy.

  Two fingers, he was pushing me higher, the electricity forming down there so much stronger than anything I could possibly dream of doing myself. I reflexively grabbed my breasts, and massaged them as he was focused on the juicy cunt that was in front of him.

  Ian grinned, licking down my body, tickling my breast a bit as he was zeroing in on my nub. He sucked on it, and I moaned from the sudden violation. He kept thrusting his fingers in and out of me as he started to set a pace on my clit. A steady kiss with a suck here and there, his tongue was out to make me cry for him.