[lowkey]

As a rule, my female friends never enter into my fantasies unless we had been engaged in a sexual relationship at some point. Nothing is sacred in the sanctity of my thoughts once that has occurred, but I simply do not see the rest in a sexual light. They are not "my female friends," merely "my friends," and it takes a rather substantial push to nudge them out of that area.

I did, however, very nearly leap upon one of my sisters friends some years ago. She had been visiting the area and I had volunteered to let her stay in my apartment rather than pay for a hotel. Despite her being a friend of my sibling, she and I had always gotten along very well. I state plainly that my motives were purely altruistic. She was an attractive woman and enjoyable company, but I had no designs upon her at all.

This, however, started to change once she arrived. She had always been by nature a very physically expressive and intimate person. She enjoyed hugging and physical contact with others. Yet when we were in private I began to think that her touches were somewhat more intimate for me than others. Hugs that would last a little too long and pressed very close, a hand abruptly squeezing my thigh as we watched horror films together at night, a caress across my hips or shoulders whenever she walked past, sitting on the couch with her legs across my lap or her head resting on it.

My apartment gets warm easily and she began to dress down considerably over the days, seeming to shed another article of clothing until at one point she was dressed in nothing more than socks, panties, and one of my dress shirts. I started to notice how fantastic her legs looked and found myself trying to catch glimpses of her ass whenever the shirt rode up a little.

You may think I was being blind to obvious signals, but I had seen be so free about herself in the past with my sister and her other female friends. What left me so confused was that I had never seen her be quiet so open with men, let alone me. I could not tell if she were being flirtatious or merely expressing how comfortable she was in my presence. All I knew was that it was rapidly getting to the point where just the scent of her lingering in the room was making me unbearably hard.

The day I nearly jumped upon her was the day she cooked breakfast for us. I sat in my living room, watching her move around the tiny kitchen. Yet again, she was wearing barely more than one of my dress shirts and a pair of underwear. I became completely fascinated by the way she would stand on tip-toe at the stove, how her lips were wet with grease after she sampled a bite of bacon, the way she played with the handle of the spatula. She was talking on and on about how her day was planned, while my mind kept sinking into darker places.

When she bent over to pull a tray of biscuits out of the stove, it was almost all I could do not to lunge for her. I wanted to pin her down against the warm stove, to watch her skin flush and sweat. I wanted to grab the spatula out of her hand and crack the still-hot metal into her ass over and over until she begged for it to stop.

Then I would rip her panties off her hips and stuff them into her mouth to shut her up. I wanted to pour honey across her pussy and nipples, then suck and lick it off her quivering body. I wanted to cool her off by filling the sink with icy water and pushing her head under it as I forced myself up her greased asshole, lifting her off the ground so her little feet kicked fitfully and helplessly through the air. I would only let her up for air once I was in her to the root, then I would rip the panties from her mouth and kiss her violently.

Before I pushed her back under the water and started to fuck her violently, I'd whisper to her how her schedule for today had changed to being thrown over whatever piece of furniture was convenient and drilled until I was momentarily satisfied and the rest of it bound, gagged, and punished.

Of course, I did not, but I was glad when she left for the day because I desperately needed private relief. I never made a move on her at all during the weeks she stay with me, mostly due to how awkward things would have become if I had made the wrong assumption. I have no seen her since and to this day I've no idea how to gauge her behavior.