High School best friend and bull husband take me new places

And that is because this is the first story that is absolutely true and without embellishment, as it comes directly out of my own sex life.

Besides the names, nothing, and I do mean absolutely nothing else has been changed. I obtained permission from all parties involved to put it down in words.

I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy occasionally reliving it, on those days where wistful daydreams dance upon the distant horizons of my spank bank skies.

***

I sat across the table from my best friend from high school, Arielle, and her charming husband Dean.

All through school Arielle and I had been inseparable. We’d met during our freshman orientation and hit it off immediately. She had attended a different middle school than I, but we had loads in common and it became very quickly clear how amazingly we were going to get along. Unfortunately for me, there was a very solid friend-zone vibe straight from the beginning, and like many guys before me in the history of the world, sometimes you sacrifice the intensity of a crush in order to develop an amazing friendship.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t always have a thing for her…but the trade-off of the friendship had been well worth the sacrifice of the fantasy.

Now here we were in our mid 20’s, and talking about all of the adult things we’d been up to in the 7 years since graduation. I was working at a publishing company in New York City. Arielle was in her second year of marriage to Dean, whom she’d met in medical school. He was just beginning his residency while she’d recently been hired on as a nurse at a nearby hospital. It was a hectic life, but they seemed to be happy and doing well.

I’d driven down to visit them where they lived in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania earlier that Friday after receiving a surprise call from Arielle the previous week asking if I was free. It had been six months since I’d last seen her and she brought up the idea of me coming down to stay for the weekend. I jumped at the chance.

After packing up a duffle for the weekend and throwing my mountain bike into the back of the SUV I made the three-hour drive down to their condo.

Arielle had rushed out to meet me when I got there and wrapped me up in one of her marvelously tight hugs. Some things never changed.

Now here we were, a couple of hours later sitting around their dinner table laughing at old stories and catching up on new ones. There was an empty wine bottle, six beer bottles, and some shot glasses that painted a fairly clear story of just how our night had gone so far.

Arielle had somehow grown even sexier as she had gotten older. She didn’t peak in high school…she just kept, well, peaking. She was like a lava flow building a mountain from underwater. Somehow she just seemed to keep growing into something even more impressive as time went by.

It would be hard to describe in perfect majesty just how hot Arielle was. Hyperbole might seem abundant in the undertaking, but, alas, I must make it very clear to you just what this ball of fire looked like before I continue on with this chronicling. It is crucial that you understand this going in, so that you can fully realize the power she so easily wielded.

Her skin looked liked she slept overnight in a soaking tub full of vanilla-bean lotion. She had blonde hair that she wore layered at a medium-short length, with curls that seemed to jump up and kiss her neck and cheeks like desperate fingers. She had Liv Tyler blue eyes and dimples on her cheeks that seemed more like they were painted on by a pastoral master. When she smiled her soft creamy skin seemed to glow—it was the type of smile that was suggestive, as if she was always up to something. She always seemed to be wearing some strange summer-olive tan, even in the dead of winter. Her freckles charted star formations across her shoulders and neck and softly across her cheeks though less pronounced. Her lips were almost effortlessly naughty…like if she smiled at you in a bar you might go a little week in one knee as if a friend had pushed the back of your locked leg during the middle of a pool shot.