I hadn’t been home in several months. The only reason I was making the five-hour drive was because an uncle I barely remembered had died and my presence had been requested. The problem is that I have this thing about funerals. No way was I going to the cemetery!
So I’d told my parents that I would try to make it but that if I got caught in traffic I’d be at the house when they returned. They’d invited everyone back there after the burial, so it wasn’t as if I wouldn’t see all my relatives and family friends.
I took my time driving, and when I finally arrived at the house, it was packed. I saw my family and made the rounds, offering condolences to the bereaved while doing my best to dodge the nosy questions—about why I was still single—being peppered at me by my meddlesome aunts. I grabbed a plate, piled it with as much food as I could, snagged a bottle of vodka from behind the bar and after stowing it in my tote slipped down to the basement.
It was dark, but I knew my way around. I headed toward the back of the basement. Feeling around carefully for the end table near the old sofa, I was surprised to hear someone say, “I was hoping you’d show.”
I knew that voice. “Cassie?” I said. “That you?”
“Who else would it be?” she said.
“Thank God!” I said. “If I had to answer one more question about my love life, there was going to be another sudden death.”
“How the hell are you?” Cassie said. “You don’t call, you don’t text—”
“I’ve missed my hang-out buddy,” I said, locating the table and putting my plate down carefully. We hadn’t seen each other in years. Whenever I came home for holiday visits she was out of town. We’d kept in touch, but lately I’d dropped the ball.
Cassie was my best friend growing up. We did everything together—shared everything, told each other everything. She was also the first person I ever kissed.
She’d stolen a couple of joints from her brother, and with my parents away for the weekend we were in this very basement smoking the joint and comparing notes on which boys we’d liked. Both of us still being virgins, we always talked about sex. That weekend the joint had us feeling really good, so we decided to kiss, to see what it was like. Afterward we had told ourselves it was merely practice for when we had boyfriends.
The one secret I had kept from Cassie was that our innocent first kiss, which involved our tongues gently twining around each other’s and our hands straying over each other, meant a lot more to me than just a test run. Since that night I’d been with guys, but I had never kissed another girl.
When I sat down next to Cassie, she hugged me and I hugged her back. God, it was like we were teenagers again! I pulled back, and it was the most natural thing for me to kiss her. I wasn’t even afraid she might not kiss me back. It was something I had to do, something I’d wanted to do for a long time. And there was no denying it, I loved kissing Cassie.
I pulled back and braced myself for her reaction. But she was smiling, and hadn’t actually let go of me! She said, “After all this time, that’s all I get?”
“I wondered if it was just me,” I said. “That kiss we shared—it made me want to do more, but I wasn’t sure how you felt.”
“This is how I felt,” she said, and she kissed me again. I felt her hand slide up under my skirt. She didn’t stop until she’d cupped my mound. I moaned into her mouth, mashing my breasts against hers. I could not believe I was kissing my best friend! She moved her fingers back and forth, providing enough heat and friction to make me want to do much more than suck on her tongue. Breathless with excitement I said, “Cassie, I want to do more than just kiss you.”
“Then let’s do it,” she said. “Go lock the door, and then hurry back. I want to taste you and suck you off.”
I went to lock the door, then went back to Cassie, pausing briefly to locate the remote for the flat screen my parents had installed years ago. After turning it on and lowering the volume, I looked at Cassie’s body, now illuminated by the light from the TV. She’d already stripped. I grabbed a sheet from the laundry basket, and she helped me spread it on the sofa.
My entire body vibrated with need. I couldn’t figure out what I wanted to do first. Cassie helped me undress. Then the two of us stood there as our fingers moved up and down, caressing, exploring, touching, enjoying the feel of each other.
We held each other close. Cassie pressed her lips to my neck and began slowly licking and sucking, pushing me to an even higher level of excitement. Had I mentioned to her that my neck was an erogenous zone? That any kind of stimulation in that area was a direct line to my pussy? I doubted it—I was barely capable of speech.
Cassie was in no hurry, and truthfully she was making me feel so good that at that moment I was all for taking it slow. This was a first for me, and I wanted to take it slow, to savor every sensation, from the feel of her lips on my neck to the aching throb deep in my pussy. My fingers were tangled in her thick hair, holding her to me while her lips and tongue moved to the other side of my neck. Her mouthwork grew more passionate, and I knew she was going to mark me, but it felt so good that I couldn’t stop her.
I ground my hips slowly against Cassie’s, moaning as she worked my skin with her teeth. My legs felt rubbery, and I was certain that the only thing keeping me on my feet was the fact that she held me in her arms. Finally she moved her mouth from my neck to my lips. As her tongue slid in my mouth, the slow grinding began again, in earnest this time. I filled my hands with her firm ass and pulled her tighter against me, needing that added pressure.
“Let’s move to the sofa,” Cassie said. I didn’t have to be asked twice.
“I’ve never done anything like this,” I said. “Have you?”
“I’ve fantasized,” she said. “You’ve been in all of them.”
We let our instincts take over and ended up on the sofa, head to pussy. It was the perfect way for us to start. I loved being on top of Cassie with my face buried between her legs, and I loved the feel of Cassie lapping up my cream. We explored each other thoroughly, with fingers and lips, and learned what the other liked. We figured out each other’s hot spots and what it took to make the other come.
By the time we finished my face was covered with Cassie’s juices. When we turned around, face-to-face, we kissed deeply. Then we moved around, and she let her leg slide over one of mine. I got what she was trying to do, and we pulled ourselves together until our pussies touched. Then we held tight and pushed against each other.
We started grinding and humping, harder and faster. Each time we pushed together, she groaned. The pressure had been building steadily. Suddenly I was so overwhelmed that I couldn’t even tell Cassie I was coming. My whole body stiffened as I strained against her and rode to a climax that took over my senses. Then she cried out, and we held each other through our mutual climax.
As we slowly relaxed, we fell against the sofa, panting. If the expression on Cassie’s face was any indication of mine, we were both amazed at what we’d just experienced.
I stroked Cassie’s leg, and for the first time since I moved away, I was glad I had come home.
—M.N., Montgomery, Alabama