Fuck Buddy(6)

By: Scott Hildreth



I shrugged and glanced down at my plate. I was no longer interested in eating, but felt a need to since she had taken the time to prepare it. As I considered taking another bite of chicken, she cleared her throat loudly.

I glanced in her direction.

She tossed her head back, flipped her hair over her shoulders, and pressed her biceps into the sides of her breasts. “I swear, we should just date each other,” she said with a laugh.

I pried my eyes from her bulging breasts, dropped my gaze to my plate, and cut a slice off the end of the chicken breast. Although throughout the course of our entire friendship we had never discussed it, I couldn’t say the thought of fucking Liv hadn’t crossed my mind. In fact, I had spent some time while waiting on a wave doing just that – thinking of fucking her. Dating her, however, was out of the question. I had no desire to be in a relationship with her and chance losing my only friend when the relationship went to hell, and there was no doubt in my mind that it would go straight to hell at some point.

I poked the tines of the fork into the piece of chicken and hesitated for a few seconds, hoping she would change the topic of conversation. My efforts to act as if I heard nothing, however, didn’t last long enough for me to raise the fork to my mouth.

She cleared her throat again. “So, are you going to just keep doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“Acting like you didn’t hear me.”

“You’ve had too much to drink.”

“One glass or three glasses, we’d be having the same conversation, Luke. I’m twenty-five, and I’m sick of it. I know we have each other, and I love this. You know, our friendship.” She waved her hand back and forth between us. “But I need some dick.”

I did my best to act preoccupied with the chicken. It seemed to do nothing short of urge her to press even further. As I reached for my fork, she continued.

She lifted her glass of wine. “No matter how you want to look at it, this is the first time in four years that I’ve been single.”

I chewed the piece of cold meat and poked at the remaining chicken breast with the tip of the fork. She was right, but I really didn’t want to think about it. I wanted her to change the subject. Knowing her as well as I did, however, I realized she probably had no intention of doing so. There would never be a woman on earth with the natural ability to please me more than Liv, but finding a woman – any woman – to be able to fulfill my sexual desires would be close to impossible.

“Well, you know, not actively looking for someone to date,” she said. “And, the more I think about it, it’s the only time since you’ve been single that I wasn’t dating. So what do you think about that?”

I peered over the table and tried to purse my lips. Instead, my mouth twisted into a smirk as I spoke. “About what?”

“I swear. You’re Mister evasive. I know after Valerie you said you were done, but there’s no way you’re done. Not like done.”

When Valerie and I broke up, I swore I’d never be in another relationship, and I hadn’t so much as kissed a girl since. Convinced the possibility of me being compatible with a woman was zero, I saw no future in even trying.

“I’m thinking we should…I don’t know…maybe try and...”

“Try and what, Liv?”

“I don’t know. I was just thinking. I mean, we’re best friends and we never argue about anything. And, well…I mean…”

I had spent all of my days since my one and only relationship ended trying to rid my mind of thoughts of sex, and of women for that matter. As attracted as I was to Liv, dating her was out of the question.

The thought of having sex with her, however, was something I struggled with as I waited for each and every wave.

But I wasn’t satisfied with simply having sex.

When it came to sex, there was something wrong with me. Terribly wrong. Attempting to fulfill my sexual desires ended my first relationship, and I was quite certain it would end any relationship I had in the future. If Liv really wanted to date, she would have an expectation of sex. If we took our relationship along that path, it would inevitably end and end quickly.

I had no interest in losing my only friend.

I stared down at my plate, wondering if she was speaking out of sexual frustration and had no intention of acting upon her statement, or if she was half-drunk and being somewhat truthful. It was also quite possible she was suggesting we attempt nothing other than being more active friends, and begin going out on dates, but remain friends.

Thinking of the possibilities caused me to feel as if the temperature in the kitchen had increased thirty degrees. I wiped my brow with the back of my hand, glanced up, and studied her.

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