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Girls Just Want To Have Fun - Day 1 Ch 1
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Thursday - Day 1
©Virginia Alison, ©Keith David, ©Tiffany St David, ©Lucy Dee Blake

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A steaming brew of her favourite coffee in one hand and a romance novel in the other, Lucy had comfortably settled into the quiet of Saturday morning. Nothing to do except be lazy and dream sexy dreams all day until the chime of the doorbell startled her. For a brief moment, she felt annoyed with the interruption. Looking up at the door, she sighed at the loss of the perfect moment.

If it had been anyone else she would have been truly annoyed,

“Tiffany, what a nice surprise. I’m so glad to see you this morning,”

I open the door to the sight of Tiffany, always a welcome one where I am concerned. She is crying again, which means that wretched lush...that fuckable bastard, has hurt her in some way again. I love having the opportunity to comfort her. I have that excuse to touch her soft skin, stroke her silky hair and gaze at her without making her feel self-conscious, but it comes with mixed feelings. If that thoughtless cad were not so damn hot, I would have killed him by now for making my girl this miserable. There should be laws against letting a jerk like that look so good.

After I give her my preferred type of greeting, a “friendly” kiss that lingers, with extra tongue, I whip her together a cup of my favourite java, adding a hint of my tastiest liqueur to jazz it up a little. If you learn nothing else in art school, you certainly learn how to make a mean cup of coffee.

He slouched off to work with a grunt this morning, not even a kiss, muttering something about how much he hates his fuckin’ job. Driving around aimlessly after tossing and turning during a long, sleepless night, with Tom snoring heavily beside me in what has become a mere representation of our marriage bed, I felt so lost and drained. Tears flooded my eyes and I looked up to see that I was at Lucy’s, with no memory of having driven there. I needed to talk to her, and her car was in the driveway. She was home. I do not normally stop by without first calling her but she is my friend; I hoped she would understand.

I knocked and as she opened the door, a flash of annoyance turned instantly to a smile, but I saw in her eyes that she knew something was wrong. Her typical greeting took longer than usual before she steered me into the kitchen, and handed me a cup.
As I take a long, slow sip of the delicious brew she says, “There you go sweetie, now what’s going on this time?”

It is as if a floodgate has opened. I start to tell her that it’s Tom, but maybe this time it is me, I do not know, I am so confused. I confess to her that we are bored with each other even though we have only been married for six years, and I tell her my secret fear – that I am afraid he is having affairs with other women.

“You know how passionate he was when we first got married!” I exclaim, blushing. “Well, the bloom is off the rose. No matter how hard I try, he just does not seem interested in me sexually anymore. It is all I can do to get him to make love to me and when he does, there is not much foreplay; he is quite rough and always cums before I have a chance to. He’s out late at night – with his friends, he tells me – comes home drunk, sometimes smelling of cheap perfume…I think he may be fucking around with other women and the thought of that just kills me!” I can feel my eyes starting to tear up again at the memories of our incredible honeymoon and the bliss that followed. I add, “It’s not that I’ve lost my libido – far from it! When you and I play, I get so – hot – but it’s become boring with him and I’m afraid I’m going to lose him if something doesn’t change soon.”

As she melts before me, I try to soothe her, the best I can without ignoring opportunity. She is wearing something simple enough, but she makes everything look stunning. I cannot help but stare. My heart pounds in my chest, a million beats a minute, and I can feel the heat building between my upper thighs. I restrain a sigh, wanting to writhe all over that perfect body.

She reveals to me, her trusted friend, what she thinks is a terrible secret. I have known that fact for some time now. On the rare occasion that I visited her, instead of her coming to me, he would sometimes arrive home while I was there, reeking of booze, cigarettes and sex. I hated the asshole, but I still wanted him, almost as much as I wanted her. The fact that she tells me that he likes it rough makes me even crazier. I just use foreplay for seduction purposes to lure in the people that I fancy. I have little desire for frivolous things like that myself. I am horny and on edge twenty-four/seven and strive for that release. I like it fast and hard.

Mesmerized by her voice and her smell, I almost miss my chance to draw her in even more. Her sad words finally reach through the fog to my brain and Rosie comes to mind. Precious Rosie - I had told her all about my dilemma. She had suggested to me that if Tiffany ever seemed desperate enough, I could get Rosie involved, and, perhaps, she could help me, I had offered her a very pleasurable photo shoot, in exchange for her interference.

I thrill at the sound of Rosie’s voice on the other end of the phone. I do not have to say much. She knows where I am coming from, and why. Tiffany’s name is all she needs. She agrees to help and we set our plan into action.

From there, it is just a matter of offering my girl some lunch. Just as I suspected - she is agreeable. I grin, butterflies dancing in my belly. “I know what can make you feel better.”

“Oh really?” I grin at her, feeling lighter for the first time that day. “And what do you think could make me feel better?” Lu grins back at me, her eyes flashing, and then she leans into me and presses her lips against mine again. Just a light kiss at first, but then she wraps her arms around my shoulders and pulls me closer, pressing her lips harder against mine, forcing my lips apart and sucking my tongue into her mouth. I moan at the sensation of the kiss, loving the taste of her, my best friend. This should feel wrong but somehow it does not. I know she is trying to comfort me, and it works….as she twines her fingers into my hair and deepens the kiss. I begin to feel breathless, feel myself becoming wet with wanting her and yet, wondering if I should be feeling this way now, with Lu.

I cannot believe it...Tiffany has given me the opening that I have been waiting for. She invites me to make her feel better, and I truly want to oblige her. To be honest, I am more interested in making me feel better, but there is no reason why it cannot be a mutual thing. Leaning towards her and making sure her body language is telling me that she is agreeable, I kiss her. The butterflies in my belly intensify and now there is fire there too, yearning for release. I want to feel her hot moist mouth all over me, and her tongue teasing at my clit. This has been a fantasy of mine for years. My thigh muscles twitch in anticipation.

I hear her moan and it turns my knees to jelly. She is into this, just as I want her to be. I do not want to rush her, it is probably important to ease her into this, but I am so hungry for her. I deepen the kiss, pulling her closer to me. I am so wet for her, trying not to let my excitement show despite the fact that my entire body aches for her, and then, to my great disappointment she pulls away.

I want love, NEED love….I feel a storm of emotions overcome me as my body takes over, pressing against her, arching myself into her...

Then I pull back, tears threatening once more. I look into her eyes and see the love and compassion written there.

“What’s wrong with me, Lu?” I say in a pained whisper. “I think Tom is screwing around with other women but I am afraid of taking comfort from my best friend and letting you love me....” She puts her arms around me, holding me close, letting me sob out my frustration. “I hope your friend Rosie knows what she is doing,” I add, wondering what a therapist can do to save my teetering marriage, I want to save what I have with Tom, I just do not know how to, anymore....

She starts to cry, and I realize sadly that this is going to go nowhere today. Besides, she will want to go home to that stupid stud. I let her cry it out, ruining a perfectly steamy moment and then she leaves to go home again. I tear up the room in frustration, drinking what is left of the bottle of wine from lunch.

More than a little tipsy, I fling myself down in front of my photo shoot backdrop, mostly empty bottle still in hand. I lay there, the bottle between my legs and lusty thoughts of Tiffany invading my mind. I grab the bottle with one hand, enjoying the feel of the cold hard glass against my throbbing mound and clutch one of my small perky breasts in the other. I stroke myself with it, imagining myself with Tiffany and my breath starts coming in great gasps. I moan loudly, calling out her name and thrusting my pelvis upwards, rubbing against the bottle with great enthusiasm and fantasizing that it is Tiffany’s fingers, or her tongue. I come quickly, her visit having already driven me so close to the edge. Lying there, sadly sighing her name, feeling spent but empty because she is not there to kiss and caress.