Miles to Go

"You're wet," he whispered. His breath feathered the strands of hair resting close to my ear. The soft, low timbre of his voice drifted through me; lulling me into an almost trance-like state.

"Oh, goddess..." I whimpered, leaning into his embrace as his arms curled around me. One hand ran the length of my side while the other continued to tease me beyond all coherant thought.

Flames licked through me and thrills ran up my spine as I felt the tiny, fluttering kisses he peppered along the length of my neck. I leaned my head back into his shoulder, my back flush to his chest, to allow him free reign.

"Please," I whispered, the word ending in a moan as he turned me around in his embrace and pushed me gently backwards onto the bed.

I felt the warmth of his own body as he followed me down, the weight of him crushing me sweetly into the mattress, and the sudden rush of lust when his cock brushed against my inner thigh.

"Want you," he murmured, kissing his way down my body.

I moaned in reply, arching back as his hands followed suit and drove me completely insane with the feel of him - the scent of him - the taste of him still in my mouth from his slow, wonderful kisses.

I was on a cloud...

"...y today with a slight chance of rain. Stay tuned for more and your local weekly forecast."

The sounds of a commercial break drifted to my ears as I was dragged - kicking and screaming - into consciousness, inwardly throwing a tantrum on the way.

Groaning in dismay at the loss of what was promising to be an entirely enjoyable dream, I sleepily turned to my side and glanced between half-open eyelids at the television - the culprit to be had for disturbing my sleep.

Cursing the damnedable thing to all manners of hell, I rolled off the couch and stumbled to the bathroom to brush my teeth and shower.

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"Can you bring my shampoo in here? I left it in the living room... thanks."

"Um... could you get my bodywash, too?"

"I hate to ask...but could you get my towel out of my bag for me?"

"Anything *else* you're missing?" He sounded jokingly exasperated, and I wondered if he knew what was coming next...

"Yeah - take your clothes off and join me already."

Agonizingly slow seconds later, hazel eyes dark with lust bored into mine with an intensity previously unmatched by any I'd ever seen before as he stepped into the shower.

(I can't believe he actually did it...!)

My heart was racing as he stepped toward me, his fingertips caressing my shoulders as he pushed the wet strands of hair away to slide his hands down my arms. Leaning in toward me, his mouth was my entire world for all of the hot minute it took to meet my own.

I felt something warm and hard brush lightly over the juncture between my thighs and my heartrate jumped suddenly. I gasped into his mouth as he leaned into the kiss - kissing me with his entire body and not just his mouth. I was in a trance as his hands roved my suddenly over-sensitive skin...

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"Damnit!" I exclaimed miserably, bumping my forehead against the shower wall as flashes of memories engulfed my "inner-eye" in technicolour vision.

We met four years ago at work. Since then, we'd come to know each other inside and out - as aquaintences; as lovers; as lost causes; and finally, as best friends. We'd been through a lot in those years - both separately and together. He'd cheated on his girlfriend with me in what seemed like an unavoidable month-long bout of lust between us, and we'd spent almost a year afterwards not speaking to each other from the resulting catastrophic consequences. Somehow, however... in the less than half of a year we'd known each other up until then, we'd managed to leave an indelible impression on each other's lives and psyche; because, neither of us could apparently deny the other friendship once we figured out that we hadn't been speaking due to him thinking I was angry with him... and me thinking he was angry with me. In retrospect... it was a waste of a perfectly good year that could have been spent solidifying our friendship further.

... and in the less than three and a half years it had been since our tryst, I could still feel his touch as though it were yesterday.

Nowadays, though, we're "best friends". I'm not entirely sure if the term truly applies, however. I certainly feel much, much more deeply for him than mere friendship, although he truly is my best friend, as well. Because of this, however.. it makes being friends that much more hard for me - but I wouldn't give it up for the world. I'll take what I can get if it means still having him in my life.

His passion is wrestling, and even though I do have some interest in it myself (if for no other reason than to simply share his passion in some smaller form - to better understand him), I was training to have something to do with him. At the time, our schedules conflicted more than they merged, so it seemed like a good idea.

I obviously didn't consider the actual *scheduling* part of this bright idea, however.

Which is why I was up at the ungodly hour of nine o'clock on a Sunday morning - getting ready for training.

And so I shook off the remnants of a particularly vivid daydream of a memory, finished my shower, and got ready to meet him when he arrived to pick me up.

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"I just love being a trainer," he said laughingly as he twirled me every which way.

I pursed my lips and gave him a wry smile.

"I'll bet," I replied sardonically, turning slowly so he could reach around me.

Training involved certain preparatory measures I hadn't previously considered. Apparently.. breasts get in the way. And hurt when they're smushed on a regular basis.

So I'd devised that I would bind them with an ACE bandage prior to training so they'd stay down and out of the way when I took a "bump." (What wrestlers term hitting the canvas.) The only downfall to this idea was that I could not bind them properly myself. Which is what led to this very predicament: me twirling around like an idiot whilst he reached around me every which way wrapping an ACE bandage around my breasts to flatten them.

With that finished, training usually lasted about another two hours or so - until daylight ran out and we couldn't see very well. Afterwards, we would loosen the ropes on the ring, gather our belongings and tidy up, and head to the changing room.

I'd never truly understood the full meaning of the word "vertigo" until training was over that day.

Neither words nor glances were exchanged as he leaned toward me in the back room of the gym, wrapping his arms around me yet not quite touching me in the process as he unbound my breasts from the tight bandages they were encased in.

The gym itself wasn't even heated, but I suddenly felt hotter than I had when we were working out.

My hand went to his shoulder on auto-pilot, attempting to balance myself, distance myself... push him away... pull him closer.

If asked, I wasn't entirely sure I'd even be able to tell someone my own name, let alone truly label the riotous feelings I was being completely overtaken by. I felt as though I were still asleep and training had been a dream - as though I were still dreaming and the wonderful, haunting images that had plagued my mind upon waking that morning were still whirling through my mind too fast to really place a single consistant moment.

I noticed that I had leaned into him a bit more intimately than I had intended to, and took my hand off his shoulder.

To any outside observer no one would be the wiser, but I couldn't help but wonder...

Did he feel the heat, too?

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"Beautiful..." I whispered; running my hands up the sleek musculature of his back and into his shoulder-length hair to cup the back of his head and pull him in for a soul-shattering kiss.

His body moved with a leonine fluidity over my own, his hands seemingly everywhere at once. He pulled back for air, and I felt a rush of adrenaline, desire, and pride when I saw the curved pout of his mouth: flushed, swollen, and slightly moist from our kisses.

I did that to him...

I thought.

He ducked his head, our mouths meeting again as I felt his hand slide up my inner thigh and brush over the light dusting of curls at the apex of my thighs. He moaned into my mouth as our tongues battled for dominance and a rush of moisture greeted his gentle touch. The soft rumble of the vibration against my lips made me gasp in utter rapture.

I felt his cock rubbing incessantly against my inner thigh, not too far from the hand imitating the act that very part of him would be performing not too much longer from now.

I moaned and bowed into his touch, my back arching into him and my head falling back against the pillow as his mouth trailed a line of hot kisses down the length of my neck and further - finally capturing my nipple within the warm encasement of his mouth and suckling firmly.

My whole body was on fire, it felt...

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I jerked awake suddenly, panting with unfulfilled desire and moaning in despair as my own urgency in my dream appeared to have awoken me just before the really interesting part came up.

"God... DAMNIT!" I swore harshly, hitting my pillow with my fist in a fit of frustration before turning sharply to my other side and attempting to fall back to sleep.

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The next day went idly by, as did the day after. Come Wednesday, though, I found myself at his house - having fallen victim to his "kidnapping" habits once again. Apparently he needed to have his house clean by the next day for an appointment and his (wreck of a) girlfriend was working late (again.) (Needless to say, it was not the same girlfriend from before..) He also had to work that day and wouldn't be home until well after seven.

And so.. I got wrangled into house-cleaning duty, as was fast becoming another habit of ours. Of course, I didn't mind it in the least. Any way I could make his life easier or give him a break from the constant stress he's under is perfectly acceptable to me. His brother also got wrangled into it, though, and between us we had his house cleaned up much earlier than we had expected. We had decided that John would take the living room and Bathroom, and I would do the kitchen and trash.

I always get the dishes...

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"You almost finished in here?"

"Yeah, almost."

"What was that..?" He asked me, his tone low and commanding.

"Er... yes."

"Yes, what?" He inquired, hiding a smirk.

"Yes, *master*," I enunciated, trying my best to hide a smirk of my own.

"You're just askin' for it, missy," he said.

I was doing his dishes... in a french maid's outfit. It was my eighteenth birthday, and he and his girlfriend and I decided, goofing around, that I should be their maid for the night and they would be my "master" and "mistress". Personally, I thought it was great. I'm always up for raucous fun and strange situations.

For the most part, however, it was mostly him taking part in the play while his girlfriend spent time with their guests, Roger and his girlfriend, Chastity. After I was finished with the dishes, Jessica and Chastity moved into the kitchen so they could smoke, leaving me in the living room with Roger and Him.

Of course, since I was being punished for my previous impertinence, I couldn't join them. I was too busy being the human footstool.

He'd gotten me on all fours in front of him, propped his feet on my back whilst talking to Roger, and I was to stay that way for a full five minutes. Jessica, however, took a small bit of pity on me and came in to let me get a hit off of her cigarette.

Roger and he were laughing about my current predicament when he told me to straighten my back out, so I dipped into a deep, overexaggerated arch just to annoy him - secretly hoping to get "punished" again.

I looked up to see his reaction and he had a somewhat fish-slapped look about him.

"Damn," he exclaimed, seemingly impressed, and looked to Roger.

I couldn't see Roger's expression from my position on the floor, but I could definitely feel something brush languidly up the back of my thigh and clear to the small of my back - completely lifting the already too-short hem of the maid's outfit to expose my panties to both his and Roger's view. I blushed hotly, more from arousal and the tabooed feeling of being so exposed than from any true mortification.

As I was looking at his stony expression, his eyes went dark with lust and the room got hotter in an instant.

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When he got home from work, his brother was playing Roller Coaster Tycoon on his computer and I was giving a few last-minute touches to the living room.

"How was work?" I inquired.

"Meh. It was work."

I chuckled softly in response. He sounded ever *so* enthusiastic.

"You find anything out about the new gym?" His brother asked. We were currently trying to get on with training at another, more local, gym that the owner of the company he wrestled for went to fairly often.

"Yeah, actually. It's about fifteen minutes from here. Has electricity and water," he said laughingly. The other "gym" wasn't so much a gym as much as it was a very large garage, and since he trained people for free, it was just too expensive to pay for electricity and water when neither was truly needed. Daylight served well for lighting, and added to the constant motion of training in and of itself, the summer season was usually quite adequately warm.

"You find out how much it is?" I asked, looking at up at him on his perch on the arm of the couch from my own in the seat.

"It's gonna be $10 for newcomers, but the people I've already got training with me now are going to get in free," he responded.

"That's definitely good."

"Yeah. Ya'll get everything done?" He asked, looking around.

"Everything but the bedroom. Kelly said you two would get that," his brother said, still concentrating on building virtual roller coasters.

"And the next time you want me to clean your house...? Make sure Kelly's at work BEFORE I do it." I exclaimed.

"What'd she do?" Sadly, he sounded almost resigned - as though he had been waiting for something to have happened.

"Fucked shit up behind us," his brother added irritably.

He looked at me inquisitively.

"Well I was starting on the dishes when you left. I'd almost finished them when she got something to eat and left an unholy mess in the living room while John was cleaning it. She did finally go through all the crap she threw in the floor the other day, though."

"Well that's good," he said, "how'd she make a mess?"

I sighed.

"She left her dishes in the living room. Then decided to clean out the refrigerator when I went to clean up her mess in the living room... and piled up MORE dishes in the sink."

"She did the dishes for two hours, dude."

"Two hours?!"

"Yeap."

"Damn."

"Yeap."

His more recent girlfriend was fairly notorious for being a complete and total slob. Apparently - by his AND her own admission - her old apartment before she moved in with him was so disgustingly dirty and cluttered you could barely walk in the front door. Me being wrangled into cleaning his house so often actually sprung from the fact that he had to work during the week and wrestle on weekends, and his girlfriend wouldn't do a damn thing to help keep the house clean. More often than not, most of the mess was hers to begin with.

"I'm not surprised," he said.

We sat and talked for some time before I got up to go outside and smoke, but as I was rounding the couch, his arm was suddenly around my shoulders and pressing against my neck. I assumed he, being the goof he is, was going to do some wrestling move and put me in a faux-choke-hold or something... until his other arm snaked around my waist just under my breasts and I felt the barely-there scratching of his beard against the nape of my neck followed by the slight "pop" of a quick kiss against the side of my neck. Just as suddenly, the warmth of his body wasn't behind me anymore and he'd retracted his arms from around me. I was so shaken that I, for a moment, thought I'd imagined the whole thing - but I knew I hadn't.

I also knew that that cigarette suddenly had a whole new appeal to it. I quickly played it off as him being goofy, gave the obligatory slap to his arm, and went outside to smoke - fairly panting from arousal by the time I reached the cool night air. I launched myself at the wall, leaned heavily against it, and breathed in that first blessed puff of much-needed nicotine.

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"Don't tease unless you aim to please..." I murmured, laying in front of him on the couch with his arm wrapped around me.

"I'm not teasing. *This* would be teasing," he murmured back, and suddenly my hair was being brushed behind me and I felt the warmth of small, light kisses being peppered around my neck.

My eyes dialated, and the room got a hundred degrees hotter, it seemed. I lay there, completely surrounded by his warmth, his scent, his mouth... and suddenly, when I finally came out of my dazed state, I was laying on my back with his mouth on mine, his hand caressing my breast... my BREAST!

We'd only kissed once before - we both knew what we were doing was wrong but my *Goddess* it felt so right! SO incredibly right... it was like he was true North and I simply gravitated toward him and he to me. We knew it was wrong.. but we couldn't stop, and we'd barely even started! The feeling his touch evoked was surpassed only by the revelation that he was touching me that intimately. It wasn't just the fact in the making that aroused me.. it was the thought of a dream becoming reality, as well.

Every nerve in my body was on edge, and I didn't know which way was up.

I was drowning in him.

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Finally calmed down enough to speak without sounding like Minnie Mouse going through puberty on crack... I went back in the apartment. John was STILL building his roller coasters, and He was fiddling around with a projector he'd just bought.

I decided a small break from him would probably be best, as I still didn't trust my treachorous body to be near him without combusting on sight, and so I went to watch John build his roller coasters instead.

I'm a sneaky, bitch, though. Figuring I'd kill two birds with one stone, I draped myself over the back of the loveseat to watch John's game, which left me bent over the back of the couch as opposed to walking around it and sitting on the back instead. I knew damn well I had a deep-seated urge to find out what exactly he would do if I were in that position so soon after his impromptu embrace, and I'll be damned if my hunch about his wonky mood wasn't dead-on.

Not even a full minute after I'd settled in to watch John's game, he had draped his body over my own over the back of the couch and put his arms around me once more.

"This is my girlfriend right here," he said to John jokingly.

It took every ounce of self control I possessed not to press my bum backwards against him, sway against him, find out if I had the same effect on him that he still had on me.

Oh, but the years had only made the burn that much WORSE, not better. I could deal with it slightly better... could control myself. But the feelings he evoked in me... Goddess, just *looking* at him made me burn, made me melt.

At his joking words, I felt my heart break slightly, though. I still burned for him... and he still had a girlfriend. Nothing had changed.

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