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John was my best friend. When Sam and I broke up, it was John who came by and consoled me.I have known John since middle school. We tried to date each other off and on in high school, but it just wasn’t meant to be. After high school, we lost contact for a few years while we each went our separate ways.John, I later learned, had dated several girls and even proposed to one, but the relationship fell apart as they got closer to the wedding date. According to John, they argued incessantly about everything, so they both agreed to call off the wedding. John said it broke his heart, but that in the end, he realized the relationship was doomed. His fiancé married another guy within six months of their planned wedding date.When Sam and I broke up, I called John. I am not sure why, but I figured he knew me as well as anyone. I didn’t know when I called John, that he was on the rebound from his very own broken relationship.John came by my apartment and I was happy to see a familiar face that I hadn’t seen in several years. We downed a bottle of red wine catching up on our pasts. As we chatted, I realized whey I had called John. He was super cool, easy to talk with and he seemed to really understand my needs on every level.The wine had loosened both of our inhibitions, to the point that I told John that if he didn’t leave, he would have to spend the night with me.He smiled, a gentle smile, a smile of understanding, need and wants.“If I spent the night,” he replied, “I might not ever leave.”John was brutally honest. I needed şişli escort his honesty. I also needed a guy who would hold me and make me feel special.John stood up and made his way to the front door of my apartment as I followed him. He turned and opened his arms in my direction, palms up. I embraced him and could immediately feel a spark of undeniable want filling me. We both lingered in the embrace for probably quite a few seconds too long.“I better go,” John said. Begrudgingly, I let him go.I cried myself to sleep that night. I needed a man in the worst way.The next day, John texted me to make sure I was OK. I assured him I was, even though I wasn’t. I had lost a love that had meant the world to me and I was still hurting. I knew John was still hurting and the last thing either of us needed would be a sexual interlude that we might regret.I was extremely attracted to John. Not only was he a good close personal friend, but he was physically attractive, with a solid rock-hard body, ripped abs and biceps. With his handsome chiseled good looks, girls could not avoid looking in his direction.John and I had never had sex, although we came close a couple of times in high school. I knew he had a large cock, because I had felt it on several occasions. Thinking about him only made me want him more and more.I texted John and asked him if he wanted to go out to dinner.He readily agreed, setting in motion my plans. I wanted John in the worst way.I showered and made sure everything down stairs was nice and clean escort şişli and shaved clean. I slipped into a short, one-piece, backless cocktail dress and some spiked heels. I fished through my drawers for some sexy panties, but then decided- what the heck- I’d just go commando.As I brushed my hair while checking things out in my dresser mirror, I felt a little self-conscious dressing up so fancy for a date with John. We had been out many times before and I never really “dressed up” for John.John arrived on time as planned. When I opened my apartment door, his eyes widened.“Wow!” John exclaimed, “You look really nice.”I smiled.“It’s the new me,” I said as I pirouetted slowly in front of John, being careful to not make a fool of myself in my high heels.“Do I look okay?” I asked.“Yes,” John replied. “Very nice.”I looped my arm under his.“Come on,” I said enthusiastically, “Let’s go have some fun!”John was a perfect gentleman, walking behind me as I traversed the steps of the stairs to the parking lot. He opened the door on my side of the car. I smiled as my dress rode up high on my legs, providing John with a good view, I was sure, of my thighs.My dress rode high on my thighs. I attempted to readjust it as I put on the seatbelt, but there wasn’t much I could do, since the dress was intentionally cut short. John glanced at my legs as he got in and put on his own seatbelt.I took out a pale shade of pink lipstick from a small clutch purse, as John drove us to a steakhouse. I mashed my lips together and asked mecidiyeköy if things looked OK.“Perfecto,” John replied.We valet parked and John walked alongside me as we headed into the restaurant. He provided the maître’d with his name and as we stood and waited for a table, I slipped my hand into John’s. His palms were clammy, and I could tell he was nervous.I leaned against John and whispered that it felt good to hold his hand, that it made me feel secure. John smiled, and nodded his head, but didn’t say anything.We shared a bottle of red wine and the dinner was fabulous. We talked about my job and his job and surprisingly, discovered we had some shared interests. The waiter asked if we wanted desert. I declined, looking at John and commenting,“I think we have our desert already planned.”John turned about four shades of red, but didn’t say anything.“So what now?” John casually asked as the waiter sauntered off to get the check. I suggested going back to my place where I could slip into something more comfortable and less fancy.The waiter brought the check and John provided his credit card. As we made our way out to the valet stand, I developed a sudden sense of fear. I was extremely attracted to John, I wanted him. I need him. But things were progressing fast. I wondered if I was making a mistake. I wondered if John might say “no.” I sure didn’t want or need another rejection.Settling into the car, I quickly fastened the seat belt. I slipped out of my heels as John settled into the driver’s seat. My dress was barely covering my coochie. I was horny as I could be and was pretty sure John knew it, but he didn’t let on. I locked in on his hands on the steering wheel. I wanted his hand on my leg, but I didn’t have the courage to make the move.
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