As always, all characters in this story are 18 years of age or older. This is my first try at writing erotic fiction, although how much of it actually is fiction is questionable. It was alot of fun writing, so I hope you enjoy reading it just as much!
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Her eyes were the colour of the coffee, though they held far more sweetness in their inviting depths. Her chestnut hair framed her face with its long, shining lengths. Every move of hers showed off her fit body, and proved to further exhibit her ample breasts. She walked with a slight limp, from an accident she'd had as a child, having left slice in the tendon of her upper right leg. The scar was paper white, and led like an arrow, to her taught ass barely covered by her volleyball spandex.
Her demeanour would have made an angel envious, and her virtues shown like lights from heaven in her every action and word. She wore a ring on her finger, a purity ring to commemorate her celibacy and devotion to her God. How she'd managed to last all those years, one could only fathom.
She'd had a steady boyfriend for the past year or two. They seemed great together, their Facebook walls were filled with each others' faces. I, however, was eternally stuck in the friend zone. She shared everything with me, except what my body always wanted. Her boyfriend seemed to have had the same thoughts, because one spring day she came crying to me by the lockers at school. It was her boyfriend's 18th birthday, and he'd expected a special surprise. She'd thought he was okay with the celibacy stuff, of the understanding that he was in it with her. He just couldn't hold out on it, and that was what finished their relationship. I can't fault him, abstinence makes me horny.
So there she was as the end of school bell sounded, in my arms as I comforted her. Her breasts, easily C cups, pressed firmly against my chest. I tried my hardest not to let something of mine press against hers.
"Everything will be okay, Karlie," I told her softly, as she sobbed into my shoulder.
"No, No it won't be!" I made out through the fabric of my shirt that her face was pressed against.
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That night I got a call from her. She sounded odd, her voice ran together in all the wrong places. Was she drunk?
"Eli, please... come over... I'm not ... feeling well," she said, the words slurred a little.
I was there in minutes, she only lived about 5 minutes away from my house. We'd gone to the same school since elementary. My grey Charger pulled up into her semi-circle driveway. Her parents were gone for the weekend, for holiday in Bermuda, so I'd come as quickly as possible in case something was seriously wrong.