#fwb!george

THE DISTINCT SMELL OF SWEAT AND SEX FILLED YOUR BEDROOM. It was another of yours and your friend George’s "hangouts" which looked nothing like what a normal hangout between friends should look like.

It had started like all the other times. A simple "wyd??" text followed by a sharp knock at your flat’s front door. You chatted for a few minutes, acting like this wasn’t what he was here for. Soon, clothes scattered throughout your apartment, leading to your bedroom.

And now, here you were. Half undressed in your bed, with George’s head between your thighs.

He nipped at the delicate skin there, teasing you. He most definitely was leaving marks where he knew only he would see them, getting off at the thought of it.

You had had a friends with benefits sort of arrangement with George for the past few months. You had both been experiencing some rough luck in the dating world, so you guys had a lot of sexual energy going unspent. So, as good friends do, you decided to help each other out.

After a few weeks, you guys kept meeting. Kept doing whatever it was that you were doing. There had been opportunities for both of you—men and women had approached both of you while out with friends. But you guys turned them down. You still found your way back to your little arrangement.

Which brings you back to this moment.

George’s tongue worked overtime, swirling through your folds and flicking your clit with practiced precision. With the number of times you guys had done this, it was no wonder that he had you a squirming, moaning mess in minutes.

He adds just one finger, and it’s enough to send you barreling to the edge. With just a few thrusts, along with the added stimulation of him sucking at your clit, your thighs begin to tremble at either side of George’s head.

Your orgasm crashes over you, a large wave of bliss leaving your body limp with pleasure. George pulls away from your core, facial hair glistening with your slick.

He moves to sit beside you, back propped against the headboard of your bed. "Too tired to keep going?"

Your eyebrows furrow as you shoot up to look at him. "No way. It’s your turn."

Your eyes trace George’s body up and down, landing on the heavy print of his hard cock straining through his shorts. You reach forward to palm him, and his body stiffens ever-so-slightly.

You tug at his shorts, but they won’t budge without George lifting his hips. "Come on, Clarkey. Lose these."

"Whatever you say, Reader," he says, throwing his hands up in surrender. Then, he finally lifts his hips, letting you tug down his shorts and the boxers beneath.

His cock springs free, slightly red and leaking at the tip. You flush, loving the fact that he was already so hard, just from going down on you.

You reach forward and give his length a few pumps as you straddle his thighs. His hands settle on your ass, giving it a firm squeeze for good measure.

Your eyes close as you sink onto George’s cock, the intense stretch followed by the familiar fullness settling inside you.

"Fuck," George groaned, hands still groping your ass. "Always so tight for me, aren’t you?"

A warmth bloomed inside you at the small praise. You nodded, too entranced in the feeling to speak. And, finally feeling acclimated to George’s huge size, you began to move your hips.

Both of you devolved into whining, moaning messes as you set a steady pace. George thrusted his hips up into yours, right in time with every sway of your hips, creating the most delicious rhythm.

"George…" you moaned, your legs getting sore from the position. But that didn’t stop him. George ground you down on him, speeding up the pace.

He was moving you all on his own now, picking you up and slamming you down on his cock over and over, until that familiar feeling started to creep into the bottom of your spine.

You could feel yourself dripping down George’s hard cock, making it even easier for him to pound up into you. You close your eyes, focusing on the feeling of him brushing against every inch inside of you. The sound of skin slapping, heavy grunts, and your breathy moans fill the room.

A tight feeling grows around the base of his cock, filling him with the desperate need to finish what you’ve both started. And as he feels your insides clench tighter around him, he knows you’re just as close as he is.

Without relenting the pace of his thrusts for even a second, he bends his head to meet your breast, sucking the hard pebble of your nipple into his mouth. The added stimulation of tongue flicking at it had that knot at the base of your spine bursting into a thousand pieces.

George thrusted up into you a few more times before he joined you in your orgasm, pumping you full. That warm feeling bloomed inside you, sending you collapsing into George’s chest, completely spent. George just laughed, wrapping his arms around you.

"Let me up, love. I’ll get a towel."

You freeze. Because what the fuck did he mean love?

Sure, some guys referred to every woman as "love," but George was not one of those guys. Maybe he would call the occasional old woman that in passing at the shop, but never to a friend. Never to you.

As you were frozen in panic, George quietly lifted you off him, disappearing into the bathroom and retrieving a warm, damp towel. When he returned, you were still staring off into space.

"Reader?" He asked, the bed beside you dipping as he sat back down. He rubbed a delicate hand up and down your arm. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

You shake your head, trying to rid your mind of the what-ifs that were flooding it. What if you and George can’t be friends anymore? What if this turns into something more? What if it doesn’t?

"I’m fine. I just…" You trail off, putting your head in your hands. "It’s stupid."

"No," George replies, settling closer to you on the bed and cleaning up between your legs with the towel. "Talk to me. So I can fix it."

You take a long, deep breath before picking up your head. George’s eyes are right there, staring right into your soul with all the care in the world.

"George, this… thing, we’ve got between us," you gesture between the two of you on the word thing. "I’m not sure if it can keep going."

He froze, setting down the towel. His brows knit together—a bit in confusion and a bit in thought. "Oh...Okay. That’s alright. But—could I ask why?"

You take another breath, not sure if you’re ready to open this can of worms. This thing between you and George started out of convenience. Just two friends getting each other off in their spare time. But the longer it went on, the more attached to this relationship (or lack thereof) you became.

You found yourself wanting to kiss him or hug him while out with your friends. You wanted to call him and tell him the minute details of your day.

Friends didn’t think of each other like that.

"George…" you sigh, ready to bite the bullet. "I don’t want to be your friend anymore."

He looked hurt, and you realized your mistake. You grabbed his hand, shaking your head. "No, not like that! I mean, like—" You close your eyes. "I don’t want to be your friend, because I can’t handle being just your friend."

When you open your eyes again, George’s face has softened. "Oh, Reader…"

"No, I know. You don’t have to—" he didn’t even let you finish.

George’s lips crashed into yours faster than they ever had before. But this kiss wasn’t like the other kisses you had shared. Those were messy and hot and full of lust. This kiss was slow and warm and had sincerity behind it.

You let yourself melt into the kiss, but only for a moment. Because the real world came crashing back to you. All your worries flooded back into your mind.

"George, we can’t. I—"

"Reader."

You stopped, looking into George’s eyes.

"I don’t want to be your friend either," he said, a smile spreading across his face. "I want to keep doing what we’re doing. That’s stuff’s great," he teased, "but, I also want to take you out to dinner, or for a drink. I want to go on holiday with you and take you around my family."

Tears stung the corners of your eyes, your throat tightening at his words. "You mean it?"

George leaned forward, wiping a stray tear from your face. "Of course I do."