Revelation

I haven't decided yet if this will have a sequel or if it works best standalone. It's been a while since I posted a story, and I was itching to post one. Hope you enjoy, comments and feedback welcome.

***

"Turn it up, I like this one," Oliver deadpanned.

Ignoring the sarcasm, Isabelle turned the speaker up and tapped her perfect pink nails against the steering wheel as the bass reverberated around the car.

"Thanks for that," he added.

"I'm prepping you," she told him, still keeping it loud. "You can't pull that face later on, Olly."

"It'll be Irish folk music, not Drum & Bass, Izzy," he shot back with unintended bite.

"Ciara's Irish but that doesn't mean there'll be Line Dancing, fool," Izzy looked over to the passenger seat of her BMW, proud of her zinger.

"There'll be no dancing from me at all," Oliver reminded her with a scowl.

Izzy sighed dramatically, turning the sound down so she could be heard properly. "Some wingman you'll be."

"Need I remind you we'll be chasing the same people? I'm not beneath sabotage." Olly didn't need to remind her, it was their usual inside joke as they made their way through their twenties and all around them friends started getting married, shacking up and having babies.

"Smart of you to not dance then," Izzy grinned. "Besides, I'm not having you shag someone in the bed we're sharing."

Olly laughed. "You insisted on wanting to stay at the venue, they only had one room left. What was I to do, make you sleep in the barn?"

Izzy just grinned at getting under his skin again and kept on driving.

They stopped at a service station late morning; Izzy having already picked it out when planning the drive. Izzy being Izzy, she'd checked the reviews and mapped out the exact route, just in case the in-car navigation failed.

They got out, stretched and headed into the service complex, designed for those making long drives. There were newspaper shops, car shops and plenty of places to eat. Izzy had already picked where they were going.

"How's your sandwich?"

Olly finished his second bite before answering. "The 4.6-star reviews don't lie, this is a pretty good mozzarella and mortadella sandwich," he chuckled.

Olly had told her that he was born almost three months premature and had spent the early part of his life smaller than any kid his age. He'd said he had to take a cocktail of vitamins for the first five years, and his parents confirmed that when she next saw them.

She'd joked about what was in those vitamins because at nearly 30, he was 6'2 and fit, with biceps pushing against his sleeves and hands probably bigger than her face. He'd been topless whilst getting ready once or twice and Izzy noticed the good definition of his abs. Not quite a 6-pack, but toned, nonetheless. Olly kept his hair trimmed almost at buzz-cut level and was pretty intimidating to look at if you didn't know him. If she didn't fit the mould of her job in compliance, he definitely didn't fit the stereotype of his data job.

Frankly, where she into men even slightly, Izzy felt sure they'd have fucked already.

They both struggled to settle into standard, boring relationships, they had natural, easy chemistry and she knew she was Olly's type - fit, flirtatious, pretty.

Olly, for his part, observed the anxiety Izzy always fought to hide, even over something as irrelevant as service-station sandwiches. A natural perfectionist, taking responsibility meant ensuring everything was the best it could be for everyone, in her mind at least.

A few years ago it had been limited to an unhealthy obsession with cleanliness and a desire to micro-manage tasks across her life, but it had moved into her looks over the last couple of years and it was now clear to Olly that she was spending an alarming amount of time trying to make herself look beautiful by whatever trending standards she was measured by.

Olly wasn't the only one who thought that unnecessary. Beyond her parents, her friends and a range of dates and girlfriends, everyone thought she was a total stunner. 5'7, slim, fit and naturally beautiful, what she had should have been enough for Izzy.

But the opinions of others were never enough to satisfy a perfectionist. Add in a healthy dose of anxiety and you had a woman who never felt she was good looking enough nor desirable enough. Izzy had many days where she looked great but she had those rare days where she turned up in a baseball cap, jeans and a baggy t-shirt because something hadn't gone right and she'd given up. Olly privately felt that was one of her best looks, but he didn't voice that.

Her long brunette hair was in a loose ponytail for the drive, as Olly looked over, her skin presenting the natural tan so commonly desired through cosmetic methods. Her teeth were great, even before she whitened them. The shape of her face, the light in her eyes... that was a winning combination that basically allowed her to attract someone with just a look.

She was thin but fit. What she lacked in curves, she made up for in her outgoing, social behaviour. Olly had often joked that her personality replaced the lack of boobs, and there was probably some truth to that in his experience.

She was undeniably a gorgeous woman, before she even tried to improve on that. Olly was handsome and physically intimidating without even meaning to be. To the casual observer, they were probably some kind of power couple as they sat there eating sandwiches on the bench outside. It was a hindrance to their dating lives from the perspective that interested parties assumed they were together so didn't engage with them. Partners had to take a lot of reassurance to be sure that there was nothing between them as best friends. Olly found it harder to explain, being straight, but then any girlfriend of his would meet Izzy and settle their nerves, our else become almost infatuated with her themselves.

Thankfully for both of them, they'd never actually been single at the same time, until a couple of months before the wedding when Olly had broken up with his ex. Rachel had evidently been sticking around for the wedding and Izzy had never really got good vibes from her. He'd broke it off and she walked out of his life without looking back, which said enough.

Izzy had dated four women in that time and despite making what she called 'self-progress', seemed no closer to starting up a relationship again.

Dates were too easy for her, Olly privately thought. And he'd seen her on early dates; it was all an act. How she was, how she behaved. She held back on her intense organiser side. She was probably even neurotic. And that kind of behaviour wasn't going to be easy for someone to deal with, especially when they thought they were getting something entirely different.

After she was finished her caesar salad, she stood and stretched, her shirt riding up to show a hint of skin above her low-waisted jeans. Olly caught an older man at a bench behind her do a double-take and then re-focus into the conversation with his family.

Izzy caught him looking over and turned around too. Misreading what had happened, she sat down and smiled. "I can't wait to have kids," she reflected. She had decided to go it alone with the IVF route if she hadn't found a long-term girlfriend in a couple of years.

Olly smiled. "I know, and you're gonna be an amazing Mum when it happens," he told her with certainty. There was no doubt in his mind that she was made for such a role. Caring, determined, selfless when she needed to be - all of the traits that he knew made a great parent.

He sensed a sudden drop in mood, so he sought to quickly change that. "Five years ago, and you'd be looking at a milf like that wanting to bed her," he teased.

His plan succeeded as sudden Izzy's eyes were alive with the prospect of teasing her best friend. "Yeah, but she'd probably want you to throw her around a bit, muscles." Her eyes drifted to his biceps that were doing a good job at filling out his t-shirt.

They swapped drivers after lunch, and Olly turned up the indie and rock music he preferred, to Izzy's growing distress. The rest of the journey went by uneventfully until they approached their destination and they suddenly had to navigate country roads.

"If you scratch this car, I swear to God," Izzy warned as Olly navigated in close proximity to a car.

"You'll what?" Olly questioned, deliberating hitting the accelerator. Izzy slapped his arm. "Careful," he warned, "those claws are sharp. I feel so sorry for whoever you feel up in the corner this weekend."

They made the last stretch without any scratches - on the car or each other.

"This is cute," Izzy announced, as Olly turned into the manor house that their friend had booked for the ceremony and then the celebrations thereafter.

The venue was hours away from where they were based but it was a good compromise for the Irish side to get to. Plus, as wedding venues went, it was a hell of a place. They'd hired a stunning manor with huge grounds, a barn for the ceremony itself and they had exclusive access to the manor house that many of the guests were staying in.

They parked around back, seeing that many of the spaces were already taken, so no doubt the house was alive with excitement and stress.

Jonny, or Jonathan, as he was going to be called all day, had gone to university with Oliver and had become friends with Isabelle in his own right. He'd met Ciara through work, much like Oliver and Isabelle had met.

The new arrivals were greeted by the Groom at the entrance to the home. Looking relaxed and sipping a glass of prosecco, he welcomed them in with a hug and a pat on the back.

"You don't look too nervous," Isabelle smirked, "how many have you had?"

Jonathan, as they had to remember to call him around Ciara's rich family, grinned. "One more than I'm allowed but hey, you wait til you meet her Great Aunt Anne and see if she don't drive you to alcohol."

"Sounds like Olly's type," Isabelle quipped, with a loud chuckle from Jonathan that indicated he'd had more than just the one extra glass.

"Easy Izzy, you're the one with a track record of shagging the MILFs," Olly laughed.

The made their way upstairs to their room, bickering first about the minimum age to qualify as a MILF, then they moved onto bickering about the size of Izzy's suitcase, with Olly grumbling all the way up.

"Fancy," they both said on entry. "Jinx."

They laughed. "Fuck's sake, we're cringe," Olly chuckled.

"Talk about yourself," Izzy replied, snatching her case from Olly like a quick-draw expert and opening it up, hiding a smile.

The contents of the case - makeup, a delicately folded dress for the ceremony, a change of dress for the evening, shoes, underwear - all seemed to spill out.

"Hahaha," Olly laughed maniacally and to exaggerated effect for the blushing Izzy. "Look at those pyjamas!"

He grabbed them before Izzy could snatch them out of reach and held them up. They were long pyjamas with an open collar. Classy in design and clearly intended to hide all of Izzy's body away. But the idea she'd need to bother with that around Olly wasn't what was funny. No, the Lion King print adorned all over the material was what had caught Olly's eye and his laughter.

"Can't have you perving on me, can I?" Izzy explained, her face glowing in embarrassment.

"Well," Olly replied, settling down and grabbing his own case, "if I was in my late thirties and a woman, you'd probably notice." Izzy searched for something sturdy in her suitcase and chucked her sandals at him. "But as it stands, I can probably get away without you noticing that I'm checking out your pancakes." He chucked her ridiculous pyjamas back at her in response.

Isabelle smirked at the playful teasing, took her toiletries into the grand bathroom and left it there.

They'd been best friends since their mid twenties, when the insane chemistry of their friendship over the couple of years prior usurped all the time they were spending with other friends. They shared the same humour, the same world views, noticed the same things when they met someone and things just clicked between them. When they weren't on dates, they often spent Friday night and half the weekend together, just hanging out in front of the tv.

Izzy was a self-styled Gold-Star Lesbian, and Olly had picked that up on sight. Not that she met the stereotypical 'butch-lesbian' vibe. Izzy may have been classed as a bit of a tomboy - seen as often back then in baseball caps as she was with her long hair down - but she could do traditionally pretty too. And that was definitely the style for the wedding and what had become the norm over the last couple of years.

They'd first met early in their working careers, both as new graduate starters at a telecoms company, cycling through different departments on a training programme. She settled on compliance; he settled on data & insight. Objectively, she might have been the hottest girl that ever worked in compliance on her day.

More so, over the last couple of years, Izzy had started to get serious with life and that was reflected in the way she took care of herself. More expensive haircuts were accompanied by hair stylist appointments in between cuts. Pedicures and manicures started, and she shrugged off the teasing that followed from Olly and others.

So, where once there would have been surprise at seeing her in the emerald green flowery dress with spaghetti straps, now there was simply a well-meaning compliment. Objectively, falling just above her knees and tastefully flattering her figure, the dress looked great on her.

Olly, despite how platonic the friendship was, couldn't help casting an eye over her while he was buttoning his shirt in the bathroom mirror.

"Zip me up," she asked, stepping towards him and pulling her long brunette hair over her shoulder.

Olly tried to ignore the beauty of her soft skin as he pulled the zip up the back of her dress. His finger brushed against it, feeling her pleasant warmth.

"Done," he said, as quickly as possible. As platonic as he felt his feelings were, intimate moments like that with someone as beautiful as Izzy would get to any man.

"Green works on you," Izzy noted with a smile, straightening his grey blazer as she admired the sage green shirt she had chosen for him to complement her dress.

Without her heels, she was only at his chest. A couple of minutes later, when she next stood up, she was in her 5-inch heels, bought especially for the wedding after way too many shopping trips, and she was at face-height with Olly.

"I'm not gonna lie," he started with a chuckle, "I was worried that we'd look too much like a couple if our outfits lined up, but you've put way too much effort into today for people to think you're attending the wedding with a partner and not looking to score, so I think we're safe."

The backhanded compliment landed with the expected eye-roll and then a begrudging compliment back. "You look handsome, you're welcome."

They left the room, Izzy demanding to keep the key lest she be paranoid about Olly losing it, and they made their way downstairs.

The vibe around the venue had changed considerably, with it being less than a couple of hours until the wedding at dusk. Olly & Izzy were directed to the bar where they met up with other guests, some of whom they knew.

After a beer and a G&T respectively, they were ushered towards the barn for the ceremony. Jonathan was waiting upfront with his Groomsmen, looking remarkably more sober now the moment was upon him.

The Irish side filed into the other side of the area, the Great Aunt who had driven Jonathan so crazy already grumbling about the chairs. Eventually everyone settled and it was time for the bride.

Ciara looked perfect as she walked down the aisle with her smiling father. Her strawberry blonde hair should have clashed with the low light but all it did was enhance her beauty. For maybe the first time, Jonathan looked lost for words. Beside Olly, Izzy was happily crying. Instead of teasing her, he wrapped an arm around her and received an arm back around him in return.

After a ceremony that not even Great Aunt Anne could complain about, the guests were ushered to the wedding breakfast.

With barely a sigh and an eye-roll, Izzy and Olly had been placed on a table of 10 - all of them couples. Ciara's doing, no doubt. Jonny would have had them stuck with the distant Irish relatives as a practical joke, if he'd had the chance.

The two singletons spent the wedding breakfast and speeches, drinking and chatting to the couples around them, slipping into a pseudo-couple as they did so. It became easy to talk about each other, to laugh and share jokes and stories about the other person, as they spoke around the table. It was the first time they'd been single at an event where they were forced to speak to strangers in such a happy, jovial time. They were both quite tactile with each other at the best of times and even more so after a few drinks and around couples.

At the end of the speeches when the wedding moved into the reception stage and more guests arrived, they broke off from the intimacy they had unintentionally been transmitting.

Olly rubbed his hands together. "Let the battle begin,"

Izzy rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her genuine smile. "You're such an idiot."

They drunk some more, they danced together despite Olly's initial protests, they sat out the romantic songs together. It was Izzy that spotted the redhead first.

"Cutie at 7 o'clock," came her warning.

Their eyes scanned the direction and Olly clocked the redhead, pale-skinned Irish woman who was hanging with the bridesmaids.

"Ladies first," came his 'chivalrous' suggestion.

Izzy wasn't playing those games. "Nope, neither of us are walking across the floor and making her night awkward. If it happens organically, it happens." They shook on it.

As Izzy's luck would have it, she watched and sighed as Olly ran into the redhead at the bar. He turned into her, in fact.

The two glasses in his hands held their contents, barely. A minute later, he was buying one for the redhead and she was laughing at a joke he made. Izzy felt a twang of jealousy.

"Rejected already?" Izzy quipped a few minutes later when he finally returned with a G&T.

"Becka made it quite clear she was interested, actually," he answered with a smug grin. "Once I explained you were celibate due to excessive Daddy issues," he smirked.

"You didn't," Izzy's eyes widened and then she glared as he laughed. "That's cheating."

"That girl's worth going to war for," he shrugged nonchalantly.

"But you came back anyway," she sighed dramatically. "You're always on babysitter mode. Maybe you have daddy issues," she smirked.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay," he explained, looking over at her with a mix of defensiveness and concern.

There was something in his look that made Izzy think that what he was doing didn't sit right with him. That the whole challenge had been an act and he didn't expect to win it, certainly not so easily.

But he was handsome and strong. He commanded space in a room. Izzy had often wondered how frequently his data insights had been signed off specifically because he was delivering them and believed in them.

Underneath it all, particularly towards her, there was a tenderness. A gap in intensity that had always been replaced by warmth of a different kind. Supportive, protective. Sometimes she hated it, when it led to him judging her or putting too much pressure on her to be good, but other times she welcomed it as the reason she was reigned back in when she risked getting caught up in hedonism and excitement.

Too often she had been swept away in the feelings of something new. A break from the mundane and the loneliness. Izzy wasn't sure why she felt lonely - she had a great network of friends, a good relationship with her family, one swipe on a dating app and she'd have a date - but she always felt alone. Always kind of existing and never really enjoying it all. She knew that's why she planned everything down to a tee. Even a slight fuck-up would welcome in feelings of emptiness and upset. There was a hollowness to her that no amount of fun events or good sex could get to.

She longed to feel what Olly had. He always appeared in control but equally appeared laid-back. He just rolled with derailed plans, even though she knew he liked structure - it was why he let her plan; he trusted her to.

Izzy brushed Olly's concern off and let him go and chat to Becka. She spoke to other friends, caught up with the bride & groom and danced to 80's music, to pop, even some R&B. No line dancing though, as predicted. She looked around for Olly when the thought came to her but aside from brief glimpses at the bar, she hadn't seen him.

"Your non-boyfriend's ditched you," Jonny teased her when they danced a while later.

"Shut up, if I wanted a boyfriend, it'd be your old man," she quipped without delay. Her sharp mind was always a great defence against anyone hitting a nerve. And Jonny had come close to it.

Instead, she could mask the pang of jealousy with that quick joke and then a glance over to the man dancing with the bride. He was in his sixties, balding, stomach bulging bigger than it used to be and now with a bad hip to boot.

Jonny laughed at the on-the-nose teasing, helped by Ciara very visibly doing more dancing around her Father-in-Law than to the music.

Izzy could dance though, and she had a slender, athletic body that drew eyes. Even then, when she felt flat and had to hold herself together appropriately when dancing with a newly married man, she could feel eyes on her.

The dress she was wearing formed well around her butt and elongated her slim body, drawing up to her beautiful face. She'd clipped her hair up but dropped it down as she danced, eliciting a few whoops when she did so.

Ciara came over and they danced together, drawing eyes as they shimmied around comically in time to Queen. They hugged at the end of the song and Izzy whispered, "Jonny's gonna have his world rocked later, isn't he?"

Dancing with Ciara and all the looks she had got made her both hot and horny. Chasing a thrill always did that to her. So, wisely, with Olly's warning voice in her ears, she went to the bar to cool off.

"Great moves," the voice in her head said as she watched couples dance a slower song.

Until someone touched her shoulder and she jumped.

"I said great moves," he repeated, looking at her.

"Hey," Izzy recovered, smiling up at him. Even at nearly the same height, he felt imposing when she was caught by surprise.

He hugged her towards him, for no real reason, ignoring the sweat on her back. She leaned in side-on and cringed about the idea of grossing him out regardless.

"Just checking in," he explained before she could ask. "I'm worried I'm being a shit friend in abandoning you."

There was always this unspoken... something between them at settings like this. Even when they weren't single, there was this undertone of guilt when they locked eyes.

They chatted for a while longer, Becka chatting to the bridal group on the other side of the room. Jonny drifted over and joined them, as did a few of their friends.

After a few songs, the Groom/Bride split dissipated and Olly left to find Becka, this time on the dance floor.

He wasn't anywhere near as graceful as Izzy, but he didn't need to be as the lead. Becka danced into him, appropriately so but in a way that made clear she was with him. She flicked her gorgeous red hair up, looked up at him with doe eyes, smiled seductively, before wiping her expression away when he turned her.

"Are you ever going to tell him?" Jonny asked beside her as she watched him.

Izzy's eyes snapped to the groom. "Don't make me kill you dead on your wedding day."

He shrugged and drunk some more. Jonny was one of many around the group who thought there was and should be something more between them.

"I know the table plan was your stunt," she half-shouted over the early chords of Careless Whisper.

At that moment Ciara joined and the three of them watched those on the dance floor. Jonny turned to his beautiful new wife with a cheeky grin. "Izzy's accused me of changing the seating plan so that her and Olly were on the couples table."

Ciara looked aghast. "You think I'd let him," she pointed over to her new husband, "organise the seating plan? No, that idea was all mine, honey."

"There's nothing there," Izzy huffed. "Stop with this shit, come on."

"Jonny, don't you think Olly's face was a picture when Izzy caught the bouquet?" Ciara persisted. Jonny smirked again, his eyes turning cloudy with all the alcohol.

Irrationally angry at being played, Izzy did all she could to not let it show. "Please stop doing this," she seethed. "It's making it awkward and there's nothing there."

"Honey," Ciara replied, slightly quieter in between songs, "You two are meant for each other, we can all see it. Your exes can see it."

Izzy cringed, yet again, at the scene the woman in her last relationship made when Izzy broke up with her.

_

"Ciara's been pretty good, I think," Olly replied conversationally as they strolled around the lake, her wearing his suit jacket for warmth.

"We all expected Bridezilla cause she's such a control freak," Becka agreed with a hint of the hard Irish accent that the bride had lost since moving south. "But she's been great."

Olly knew the type very well, his mind on Izzy. "I genuinely think Jonny, sorry Jonathan, and his laid-back attitude has done wonders for her."

"Agreed," the cute redhead gushed. "Talk about perfect for each other. She actually lets her hair down and has fun now," Becka chuckled. "Funny how what works for one person doesn't work for another though, huh?"

"I guess not," Olly considered. It wasn't the first time he'd thought about what would be good for a control freak. Keen to turn it back to her though, Olly didn't spend time dwelling. "What works for you then? What are you looking for?"

At that, Becka let out a deep sigh and looked guiltily at Olly. "I've got to be honest,"

"You're seeing someone," Olly finished for her, knowing his luck.

She nodded. "I'm sorry to have led you on. I didn't expect anything to come of talking with you except a laugh." She sighed and then looked out into the lake, "I probably shouldn't say this but, if you were okay with that," she floated.

"I'm not, I'm sorry," though he really wasn't sorry. It was a relief, if he was honest, to have a reason to bail out of talking to her. His mind was on Izzy and the fun they'd had at the wedding table.

They spoke for a while longer, Becka spending considerable time talking about the man she had just started to date in Ireland, and then they looped back around to the barn holding the reception and parted with a hug.

It was late by then. Olly's night was a bust and Izzy was nowhere to be found. He found the bride and groom who told him Izzy had gone to sleep a while ago as she was feeling tired.

Being a considerate roomy, he went to the reception desk, grabbed another keycard from the harassed looking event organiser and made his way up, hoping to get changed, shower and slip into bed quietly.

When he scanned his key in and opened the door, he was greeted by mad scrambling, a loud 'oh shit' and a guilty expression from Izzy, with her phone flung on the bed and her pyjama bottoms haphazardly pulled up to her waist.

"Holy shit, were you watching porn?" David exclaimed.

"Shut up," Izzy hissed. "And fuck you."

"Do you want me to give you five minutes?"

Izzy could tell he was being genuine. "Uh, no, you've killed the vibe," she answered, dropping the act.

Olly loosened his tie and took off his blazer, hanging it on the back of his chair and then laying the tie neatly over it. Izzy watched him quietly, always impressed by his neatness.

When he took off his cufflinks and laid them neatly on the desk, she could handle the weirdly arousing show no longer. "Why aren't you fucking Becka's brains out in her room?"

Olly looked up at her, trying not to grin at her Lion King pyjamas, and then trying not to imagine her without them. "She's seeing someone back home, which is a no from me, as you know."

That mention of morals came at just the wrong time for Izzy, killing her persisting arousal. Between the porn and watching Olly, she was feeling highly strung, until he'd metaphorically poured iced water over her.

It took her back to a point just a couple of years ago, when Izzy had been cheating on her girlfriend at the time with a married woman. Olly had lost his shit with her big time. Breaking up two relationships, risking a marriage - with a child involved too - he was beyond disappointed in her. It was Izzy's lowest point, caught up in the taboo and the excitement of seducing a married woman, to try and fill a hole that was growing daily.

It had changed everything about how she saw relationships; in some ways she didn't even appreciate at the time. Or more accurately, it had made her confront things that she had determinedly kept under control until then.

Olly was pissed when she told him, but she had stupidly assured him it was done after they had almost got caught by the woman's husband. Olly's anger was on another level a few weeks later though, when Izzy admitted they'd had sex once more. He refused to speak to her for almost two weeks, telling her he wouldn't be associated with someone who would be willing to break up a family, never mind her own relationship.

That hedonism and the thrill was damaging her in so many ways, she realised. She had sworn to Olly it was done, showing him the string of messages that she had not replied to, but begged him to tell her why he had taken it so hard.

It had been the last big secret between them and the thing that had since connected them together in a deep, lasting way. He had told her about his Mum's first husband cheating on her and the existence of a sister whom he didn't know. His Mum had divorced her husband, left as a broken mess and met Olly's future dad. The rest is history, but the Catholic family Olly's Mum left behind - the judgement, the shunning of being a divorced woman - left a sour, lasting taste.

"I see you as the sister I never got to have," he explained as they drunk whiskey together that night. "Look, I'm sorry for taking my shit out on you but you're the best person I know, and you can do better than breaking up a family. You can be someone we all aspire to."

That had been two years ago, but Izzy could still see it now. That disappointment. She hoped never to see it again.

So, Izzy knew Olly would have immediately dismissed his chance with Becka when she told him she was seeing someone. He wouldn't go there then. Because of him and his beliefs, neither would Izzy, if it had been her with Becka instead.

"Sorry it was a bust," she replied awkwardly, suddenly feeling a lot less aroused and a lot more guilty about past decisions. She quietly let him shower and get changed.

He had apologised for his behaviour so many times. She had accepted his apology and assured him it was fine, just as many times. But it was a watershed moment on their friendship. It had stopped her carelessness; it had stopped her settling and...

Conversely, it had made it impossible for her to actually settle.

And it started her on the path where even hopeless Jonny had realised that she held something for him that she refused to acknowledge to herself, never mind openly admit. For her best friend, for a man and all the biology that came with it.

Even then, with all the feelings that had been brought back up, she was still resolutely in denial and was telling herself it was just intense, emotional feelings of protection. And comfort. And happiness. Nothing more.

When he came out of the bathroom in pyjama shorts and an old gym t-shirt, she had settled, cleared her browser history and was watching something mindless on the mounted tv in the room.

"Huh?" Izzy was sure she hadn't his question heard right.

"What were you watching?"

Olly stood over the bed between her and the tv screen, his arms folded in a paternal way. It was a dramatic act, to go with his question, but Izzy still felt flustered.

"As in, the video?" Her tone was full of surprise.

"Yeah, your little porno," he chuckled at his joke, but his eyes bore into her, demanding an answer.

The whole paternal vibe was screwing with her; she could feel it in the wrong places. "You wouldn't know it," she waved away dismissively.

"Tell me," he smirked, lunging forward and grabbing her phone which was sitting on the bed.

The wrestled briefly and he won, putting in her phone password. They both knew each other's and had done for years. To delete the evidence of our secret romance, they'd joked.

"Boo, you deleted it," Olly did this weirdly cute pout.

Izzy sighed. "It was Carter Cruise and Jonny Sins," she answered.

He went ahead and googled it, right there on her phone, sitting up on his knees opposite her.

"Hot damn," he exclaimed. "This is hot shit. Where's the lesbians?"

"No lesbian watches lesbian porn," she reminded him.

"Is this a favourite then?" Olly asked, tearing his eyes away.

"Yeah," she breathed, now aroused again.

"Are you sure you don't want me to give you 5 mins?" Olly offered. He was evidently aroused too.

It was tempting, at that point. "I'll live. She's a good kisser and that's my favourite part."

"She's hot, you have good taste," Olly replied, being a typical man.

Izzy was aroused and feeling reckless. What's the harm? That's what her clouded brain told her. Some kind of revenge on leaving her alone that evening when maybe...

"Weirdly, it's him I fancy," she whispered.

"Latent interest in men?" Olly's eyes stayed on her phone, but he was no longer watching.

To make it worse, he had been skipping through the video and his question was punctuated by loud fucking sounds coming from the video.

Shamefully, Izzy knew exactly what part of the video that was. She'd watched it maybe a hundred times. Something about the chemistry between the actors and the similarity of their bodies with her and her best friend, had her hooked.

She shrugged in response, and he dropped it, evidently thrown. Izzy would regret it tomorrow but not then.

Right then, it felt nice to hold some power. To make him think and wonder about things for once.

_

Olly woke up a few hours later, freezing cold.

"What the hell?" He whispered into the darkness.

Izzy had stolen all of the duvet, of course. He was laying there without any covers and just a t-shirt, feeling the freeze.

He was cold enough that he didn't even want to get up to turn the AirCon down, but Izzy had a vice-like grip on the sheets. Despite her being a lot smaller in frame than him, she was deceptively strong and agile.

She stirred when he got up and shifted his weight off the bed. "The hell did you turn the AirCon up so high?"

"Oh my God, did I?" She gasped, suddenly awake as she watched him turn the dial down. "Shit, sorry Ol, I turned it up because I know you get hot in bed."

He flicked on the bathroom light and sighed dramatically but winked to tell her it was fine.

She waited for him to return and could faintly hear the sound of him using the bathroom, the splash of water as he peed reminding her that she was sharing a bed with someone that had a penis.

When he returned, he pulled the sheets away from her and she got up to pee too. As she walked, she felt the cold room on her skin, her nipples hardening and pressing against her loose top. She looked herself over in the bathroom mirror when she was done, flattened down her hair, straightened out her pyjamas, did her usual thing of checking to see if she'd chipped or dirtied a nail, and then returned as though she had done none of that.

Olly was laying on his side, under the sheets. She slipped in too without delay. To her surprise, he scooted over and spooned her.

"What are you doing, creep?" Despite her words, she turned to her side and spooned into him.

"Stealing your warmth," he explained simply.

They stayed like that for a couple of minutes - Izzy the small spoon but keeping a healthy distance, especially lower down and Olly with his strong arm gently wrapped around her.

Olly was naturally big and strong, forcing Izzy to confront feelings of how much she liked being held like that. Her jaw was tense as she fought with herself about what it meant.

After what felt like ten minutes, with Izzy barely daring to move, she let out a soft sigh, almost releasing the tension she'd been holding. It had built up to the point where it felt too difficult not to.

She weighed it up, deciding whether to try something. It all came down to whether she had a believable excuse when he undoubtedly pushed her away. Could she get away with saying she was cold and just wanted to get closer? Could she downplay it and say it didn't bother her?

The overwhelming positive was that between the porn earlier and maybe pressing into him now, she could perhaps get him to start thinking of her a little more. Maybe he would pursue something and make her admit there was something there for her too.

Throwing caution out of the window, she moved back into Olly properly, her ass against his groin. In a move she couldn't have executed that perfectly if she did it another hundred times, the split of her ass cheeks sat perfectly against his cock.

Within seconds, Olly's breathing seemed to change from the sensation of Izzy's pert ass pressed against him.

He seemed to freeze too. Izzy had stopped breathing, absolutely terrified she had gone too far, or worse, that he wouldn't be aroused. That even then, he wouldn't be able to see her as anything but a sister.

But then he moved the lower half of his body slightly away from her, but not before she felt his cock growing. Driven by lust and instinct, she followed him, and suddenly her head was on one side of the bed, her lower body shamelessly twisted towards him in the middle of the bed.

"What are you doing?" Olly's shock was evident.

"You're comfy, I'm just following you."

"Izzy," he warned, "you must know what's happening with my dick right now so can we just not?"

Izzy sighed. She needed to feel good again. It had been too long since she'd had sex. Weeks, not days. Too many days between orgasms tended to drive her insane.

Her stray thoughts of Olly had always seemed to ignore his biology, as though that was a separate part of him. Whenever she remembered it, she was put-off, she sobered up from the impure thoughts.

But right then, what mattered was that she wanted to be fucked. She enjoyed being fucked, even with silicone. And she had no doubt Olly could fuck. Hell, no doubt that she'd be good to fuck.

If it was going to be any man, it was always going to be him.

"Just shut up and kiss me," she replied aggressively.

Before he could protest further, because she knew he would, she kissed him. The warnings of what this would do to their friendship, of him not wanting to be her first man, died on his lips.

He kissed back and suddenly his aggression outmatched her own. Olly gripped her hair and pulled her below him, kissing her with intensity. His tongue didn't so much request entry as demand it.

Izzy was breathless in the kiss. Her head was swimming, her excitement melting away any remaining doubts.

Olly's strong hand had wrapped her hair around it such that she couldn't even move. His other hand had taken hold of hers, so much bigger than her own, and was holding it down above her head. Izzy was in no doubt that the kiss was now his.

His hand squeezed hers just as his teeth nipped at her soft lips. She moaned into it and found her free hand running down the side of Olly's pyjama-clad body.

Izzy's mind and body felt completely in tandem with each other, for the first time in a long time.

Her passion and desperation grew against Olly's kiss. All she could think about and all she could feel was how strong he felt.

She had never been controlled before. She had always been with partners all too keen to get with her and let her lead the way. All too keen to please her first and then lay back, if she wanted to return the favour. When she had pulled out the strap-on, they always assumed it was them, or else unsure which way it would go, though they all fucked her gently, took care with her.

That felt fine at the time. What she got off to was the contradiction of having her hole filled despite not wanting dick. Plus, penetration was actually stimulating for her. She could orgasm if it was done right.

But this, whatever was about to happen with Olly, that wasn't going to be some gentle sex a few inches inside of her hole.

As her hand finally found his cock over his shorts and squeezed it, as Olly moaned onto her lips, she felt the monster in her hands and knew this wasn't going to be sex as she knew it.

He pulled back from her lips and released her hand. "Let's get this ridiculous top off of you," he demanded, already moving his hand down to the bottom of it.

Izzy nodded meekly, looking up at him in shock and something that felt and looked like adoration, at least to Olly's eyes. Her hand helped and she pulled it off, exposing her body to him. Olly glanced down at her slim, toned, tanned body, paler around her breasts, christened by her prominently hard nipples, and growled.

That primal sound did something to Izzy's brain that years later, she never recovered from. That desire for her, for her body, was unlike anything she had ever experienced. She couldn't put it together at the time, couldn't understand that it had changed her.

What was evident though, was that her pussy was responding to him in ways that were unprecedented for her. She could feel how soaked she was. Hell, moments earlier she felt herself throbbing and pulsating as he kissed her. Her pussy felt raw and needy. Most of all, it felt empty.

Pulling her bottoms off with no delay, Izzy barely able to shuffle quick enough to help get them over her pert ass, she was unsurprised to see a trail of her vaginal fluids soaking into her panties and strands still linked to her folds until they were stretched and broken as her underwear was taken from her. Olly hadn't seen it from his angle, he was too busy looking at her slick, glistening pussy. The reaction that told him consent had not just been given but was desperately needed.

Izzy threw her head back and sighed at what she was looking at and feeling. She missed the feel of Olly's hand in her hair, controlling her, keeping her in place. Movement felt conversely restrictive, as though having freedom gave her too many decisions to make.

She therefore missed the sight of him taking his shorts off, missed the visual of seeing his cock and didn't even really consider it, until she felt his hard, bulbous cockhead pressing against her glistening lips. The feeling was unexpected yet exciting and she consciously pushed herself down the bed to get closer. To get it into her hole.

She looked down to hasten her aim but before she could properly see, Olly's hand gripped her throat and held it tight.

Izzy gasped and swallowed, looking back up to the ceiling as though she could read his actions like an instruction manual. Maybe she could, because everything felt clear and simple. Coordinated, in a sense. She spread her legs wider for him, starting to pant in anticipation.

For Olly, it felt natural, effortless even. He knew Izzy so well, even with what they were doing, he felt like he knew how she'd want it to be. It was why he lined himself up and pushed himself in without giving her as much time to adjust as he might have for someone else. Because he knew she'd want it like that - rough, firm, persistent.

She'd want to be the best. She'd want to take it the best, she'd want to be the best at giving him pleasure, no matter the cost.

She moaned and gasped, her legs kicking out, ending with a sigh of pleasure. She was so, so wet, she could handle his size better than she had any right to as someone taking their first cock. His cock felt warm, hard, heavy. Izzy now knew what words like invaded meant. His cock may have been thick, may have been 8 or 9 inches and therefore her 5'7 frame should dwarf the insertion, but Olly's cock being inside her seemed to give him absolute power over her. It was transcendent.

Her eyes were shut, and she had visibly given herself to him. Her hand was back above her head where it had been held down, her other arm wrapped around him, her fingers caressing the muscles on his back gently.

Olly pushed in halfway, before he really started to feel restricted. He slowed his pace but kept a consistent push, spreading her folds. Izzy's hand moved down from his back to Olly's ass cheek, where she pushed him in towards her pointedly.

"Yes, take it," he breathed, pushing in harder.

Izzy nodded and whimpered, her pussy awash with her own juices to aid his journey. Her body was flush from the effort.

Olly leaned down and kissed her as he made his way into her, filling her with his last inches. Breathless, she gasped into the kiss as she felt him bottom out inside her. Her hands wandered all over his body as they kissed.

Izzy felt rabid, alive on her back with a man inside her. Olly felt powerful, confident with Izzy beneath him.

He pulled out a few inches and pushed back in again, loosening her tight hole. The movements caught on Izzy's folds, pulling at them, stretching at them pleasurably. Her hole gushed around his cock, her body tensing, her cries escaping between their kiss, which she never wanted to end.

Her hands wrapped around his head to keep him there and she felt the sweat on her armpit, felt some sweat from his short hair. It felt so animalistic and primal between them.

Olly kept up his approach of pulling out to thrust powerfully back in, turning Izzy into a whimpering mess by the time he was at the edge of her hole a few minutes later.

Her juices were running down her legs into the split of her ass cheeks, she could feel it. She was making a horrific mess, but still, he wouldn't stop fucking her and they wouldn't break the kiss that was binding them.

Only when Olly had fully pulled out and pounded back in a few more times did he pull away from her, both of them sweating and breathless, to look at her. They locked eyes, sharing looks of lust. Izzy dropped her arms to the sides as a sign of submission, but Olly took it further and held them both back above her head again.

What came next defied comprehension for Izzy. That sex with a man could ever be that good.

Olly pummelled her relentlessly. He ruined her hole with consistent, hard thrusts, in and out, as deep as he could go. He fucked her hole so fantastically that she felt he had rearranged the shape of her insides in doing so.

She was gasping, panting. Pleading. For what, she had no idea.

Because he couldn't go deeper or harder and she didn't want it to end. She just couldn't produce competent thought, so all she had was primal cries of need.

Olly was grunting as he fucked his stiff cock inside of her. The sound of the force he exerted in fucking her was released through powerful, animalistic grunts as they fucked. He had never taken anyone like this, never fucked so savagely. Izzy just seemed to absorb it and direct it back at him. Demanding more, promising to take more.

She felt the stirrings long before the coherence of her brain could comprehend it.

The roughness and harshness shouldn't be giving her the pleasure it was. But it wasn't just the physical, it was the psychological too.

She gasped sharply as she finally absorbed what was happening to her. By then the stirrings that had started deep in her hole had moved to the tingling on her skin and the pulsating of the nerve endings that sheathed Olly's cock.

Olly's cock that seemed to electrify her receptors with every thrust, drawing the sensations out of her mercilessly.

By then the pleasure was all-consuming. It was like a drug she had newly discovered, that her body told her was all that was ever required.

She cried out again, a loud, desperate cry, as her walls contracted around him. Olly's eyes widened in surprise, then pleasure... and then what Izzy could only recognise as smugness at what he was doing to her.

That, for reasons she couldn't understand, made her orgasm more powerful, as though her body and mind wanted to acquiesce to that smugness and surrender to it. Izzy felt claimed and conquered now.

Her limbs started to tense and reach out to the atmosphere for release. Her legs thrashed and kicked, her hands scratching her nails into the sheets.

"Uhhhmmphhh," came a sound she didn't even recognise. Of release and desperation. Of the loss of all control.

Still, Olly kept fucking himself into her.

And each thrust pushed her orgasm along yet further. He wouldn't let it end; he just kept hitting parts inside her that had never been touched. Places that he had no right being in, anatomically.

Her walls were clasped around him in her orgasm, and they wouldn't let him go. He was so big and so dominant inside her that he moved in and out of her whether her folds wanted to hold him in place or not. The sex was mind-blowing; it was beyond any level of comprehension for Izzy.

And for Olly, who had had his fair share of sex, had fucked enough women, what was happening with his best friend defied belief. He couldn't believe how good she felt. How connected they were. Even the feel of her folds on his cock felt perfect. He could feel and explore every inch of her. He could push as deep as he wanted and she could take it and wanted more of it. Was cumming from it.

His own legs were shaking from the energy he was exhausting. He realised how his grip on Izzy's hip was starting to take the burden of his tiring legs.

Eventually, the noises Izzy was making started to slow and calm as her orgasm crashed over her and settled. She looked blissful and at peace under Olly, her legs spread wide. The sounds of their panting and most of all, the wet clapping sounds of their sex now the only noise in the room.

As his orgasm finally started to approach, Olly took Izzy's leg and held it over his shoulder. The angle change, energised Izzy and her back arched, her free leg rose behind Olly, and she wrapped it around him, keeping him there. Her hands grabbed his head and brought it down to her neck, his hot breath giving her goosebumps.

Instinctively, she knew he was ready. Her pussy told her it but so did something between them. She could sense his needs.

"Do it," she breathed the words, barely above a whisper.

It was the first thing either of them had said since it started. The granting of permission for Olly to release inside Izzy's unprotected pussy was perhaps the craziest moment yet.

Olly could barely reply, sweat was all over the both of them now, in the hottest, most animalistic sex they'd ever had. "I can pull out," he gasped, and even Izzy knew he was too far along to do so.

In response, Izzy moved her hand down his back and onto his ass, pushing him down and into her, folding herself up even further in the process. Olly was completely over her then, completely pushing her down and in place.

She felt the pulsing of his cock that announced the arrival of his seed into her womb. hole and the way it travelled through his thick, long cock, felt it in the walls of her used hole, and then shoot out of it with so much power that Olly's groan of release didn't come close to describing the intensity of it.

He coated her walls with cum. She felt it in the depths of her hole, she felt it in her womb, her cervix, every part of her. Olly's seed was so thick and virile that it pooled around his cock, she could feel it starting to spread around the infinitesimal spaces between their coupling, pooling everywhere around it.

"Oh fuck," she gasped with urgency, refusing to break hold. "You're doing it,"

The strength of the orgasm Olly was having made trivial things like sound and comprehension completely irrelevant. All he knew was that he was having the strongest, most intense orgasm of his life.

The amount of cum he could feel he was pumping into Izzy was unbelievable. Muscles were contracting and releasing somewhere down below in a desperate attempt to pump as much seed into Izzy as possible.

When it was finally, finally, over and the shuddering of his cock only produced small drips of cum, he released her leg and rolled off her, or else he may have collapsed on her from exhaustion.

They lay there panting, neither of them able to move for a few seconds.

Olly eventually stretched out such that he was almost touching the woman laying beside him. Izzy, for her part, had closed her legs at the same time. It wasn't deliberate but it gave the impression she didn't want Olly touching her. She could feel him looking at her.

She could also feel his cum leaking out of her hole, which just felt irrationally stretched and sore. It took her a few seconds to appreciate just how much cum was inside her despite how much of it had already poured out. She could feel it running down to her ass as well as sitting there drying on her lips. It felt thick and sticky.

Izzy recognised his seed as a sign of claiming her. A sign of ownership that she had accepted. She felt strangely calm about it. As though it was just... natural after sex.

She had no desire to put her clothes back on. Within the primal mindset he had introduced while he was inside her, she was now on show as his conquered prize. Like an animal tamed and claimed, his cum was the sign of that. Probably the bruise on her hip too, which bit hard when she turned on it.

Far from distressing her, Izzy found comfort in it. In some small form of extending what had just happened.

With her back now to him, Olly was understandably concerned. "Are you okay, Iz?"

She could hear the hesitation. She just had no words to reassure him. She couldn't speak; for once her mind was blissfully empty.

Izzy turned slightly towards him, reached for his arm and then pulled it back over her, going back to her side and the comfort of her bruised hip.

Olly rolled over too, spooning her. His other hand brushed the hair from her sweaty brow. Izzy kissed the hand she was holding appreciatively and then settled.

Despite the light still being on and with the covers scattered on the floor, Izzy fell asleep almost instantly.

Olly watched her, processing what had just happened and trying to stop himself from wanting this to be a permanent change in their relationship and not the one-off he expected it was.

He was dreading Izzy's horror in the morning, especially because he knew he'd feel no such regrets. The sex was incredible, the best of his life. But more than that, the connection between them transcended any expectation of good sex. It was too intense, too powerful, to experience once and never again.

He struggled to sleep as he listened to Izzy's quiet breathing. He caressed her naked back and the swell of her ass gently. He debated washing them both with a wet cloth but didn't want to wake her. Though her waking up covered in cum would perhaps be a worse outcome.

Still, for a little while longer, Olly wanted to enjoy what had just happened. He collected her frizzy hair and gently put it over her shoulder and out of the way. He kissed her smooth shoulder softly and then let her rest.

Sleep came for him too, when he finally realised what happened next wasn't entirely out of his control.

_

Izzy woke first, stiff and sore.

Olly had moved away at some point in the night and spread out in the bed. She had actually pictured the experience of waking up beside him many times in the weeks leading up to the wedding. Her anxiety-ridden, control-freak brain needed to picture a situation and control how she was going to behave in it before it happened.

She'd pictured waking up next to her best friend, ribbing him about his snoring, both of them nursing a hangover. Shared groans, a bit of laughter, no awkwardness. But not what had actually happened.

It didn't take any time at all to recall what they'd done. She didn't need her sore body to tell her, nor did she need to spend any time reconciling the unfamiliar feelings going on below.

She instead woke up to her reality and felt pointedly calm about it. The feelings she'd experienced in the middle of the night when Olly was fucking her made more sense in the light of day, with the sun spilling into the room through the thin, tasteful curtains.

There was calmness in accepting that she wasn't in control. That control and autonomy had been taken from her so completely just a few hours before. Olly now had her autonomy and it'd be up to him when he allowed her to have it back.

Izzy also felt, as she lay there and worked up the energy to move, he'd also decide how long she had it for too. Because if he did want her again, she wasn't going to be able to say no. That much was already clear.

When the urge to pee simply became too much to ignore, she sat up, making double sure the room wasn't spinning - it wasn't, she had stuck to her planned amount of alcohol - and stood up.

She walked around the bed, being careful not to look Olly's way and made it to the bathroom without incident. When she got there, she rushed to the toilet and emptied her bladder. She knew that wasn't the only thing going into the bowl, but she refused to look down.

When she was done and flushed, she stood and looked in the mirror, ready to assess the damage. She looked herself and nodded at what she saw. About what she expected.

That wasn't to say the sight was pretty or even remotely familiar. Her long brunette hair that typically fell to her chest was knotted and unkempt, looking noticeably devoid of life.

Izzy reached for her brush and started to brush out the knots while she surveyed the rest of her. Bruises on her hip and her breast, though she couldn't remember how the latter happened. Her neck felt sore to turn but looked fine. So, with nowhere else to look, she finally looked at her hole.

Inflamed, hanging, sore, sticky. She had never seen it look as it did. Women had said her pussy was one of the prettiest they'd seen. Tight and small, petite almost.

But Olly had... changed that. The remains of his cum were dried white on her pink lips. They were enlarged, sore to look at and even worse to touch. Izzy's fingers grazed over them and found them tender but also, shamefully, moist.

She finished brushing her hair, deciding there was no further help without a shower, and delicately pushed a finger into her hole. It was noticeably wider and less resistant to her digit. "Jesus," she breathed in shock.

What shocked her more was the feeling of cum still deep within her hole. It had made a home in there. Even then, Olly still owned her.

What was obvious was that Izzy's mind welcomed what had happened. The way she was so easily aroused was telling. How calm she was... even as gallons of cum soaked in her unprotected pussy.

"What's the damage?" Olly asked when she came out. No playing like he was asleep. He was sitting up and waiting for her.

"Out here or in here," Izzy asked, pointing to her mind and stopping at the foot of the bed.

He considered her, noticed the way she had stopped for him.

"I can see the damage," he said finally. "So, what about in that head of yours."

"Okay," Izzy replied stiffly, not quite knowing how to communicate with him. "Yours?"

"My head's good," Olly assured her, "but what happened is less of a mindfuck for me."

Izzy smiled weakly but otherwise didn't react.

"You don't agree?" Olly couldn't hide the edge of excitement.

"I don't know what I think," Izzy shrugged dismissively. She was being honest. She couldn't work her head out, except that her body was reacting to Olly's naked body and cock, which perhaps gave her the answer.

With her eyes on Olly's cock, what started as soft began to harden as she watched. Izzy swallowed and pointed to his cock. "Does that mean you want me again?"

She needed Olly to be the brave one. She knew he'd be thinking about her sanity and her anxiety, but she needed him to take charge again.

"Yes," he delivered bluntly, reading her mind, it seemed. "Come here."

It could have backfired, Olly knew that, but he had seen the tells. The way she stopped when he spoke, the way she had swallowed as his cock became hard, the way she kept trying to push decisions to him. She wasn't the Izzy who normally existed. She was the Izzy who knew she wasn't in charge.

She knew because there was no hesitation as she literally climbed on the bed and crawled between his legs. She kept going until she was at his chest and then his face. She looked at him, waiting.

Olly looked up at the beauty above him, who seemed not to be fighting the chaos of her mind. If anything, her eyes looked devoid of anxiety, they looked present and content. He took his hand in her hair gently and kissed her.

Izzy kissed back but in the slow, submissive way that it became when they had had sex and Olly had taken charge. It was clear where her headspace was.

He kissed her, leading it and running his hands over her naked body. Olly knew she was reacting, but he also knew there was much he could say. If she wanted it as much as he suspected, really wanted it, he'd never forgive himself if he didn't take this opportunity to try and show her what they could be. If she was with someone else a few years from now and he had done what he could to show her they could work, that was one thing. But if he didn't even try.

And he knew right then that he needed to reinforce how much she liked what had happened and how things had formed between them.

Between kisses, he looked her in the eyes, forcing her to do the same by holding her chin. "You like this, don't you?"

He kissed her again before she could agree. That wasn't the point, the point was to get her thinking about it. He could see in her eyes that she was almost mindless, but when thoughts really did return, he wanted Izzy to be thinking positively about what had happened and how he felt about her.

"You like my cock inside you; you like how it feels." He probed again between kisses. "You like how it made you think, you like what it's done to your body."

Izzy's kisses started to grow more energetic the more Olly spoke. He was fuelling her passion and excitement.

"You want this, don't you?"

Izzy nodded, she simply couldn't deny how much she wanted her best friend inside her again. He still held the power, and she didn't want that to change.

"Take hold of my cock and show me then."

Olly's instructions were ambiguous enough that he might have meant a number of things. Maybe he meant oral - which Izzy hadn't even considered wanting to do until 5 hours ago - or perhaps he meant simply stroking. She didn't know enough about cocks and men to go through the possibilities.

Except, she did know. Because whatever had happened last night with the way they could read each other's mind had continued that morning.

So, taking hold of Olly's thick cock and lining her hole up to it, was exactly what he had wanted.

"Good girl," he praised, as she spread her lips around his cock.

"Ummpfff," she groaned, realising only as she started to move down just how tender and sore she was.

She'd never been penetrated while being on top - there was no need with women, and she didn't particularly like how she had been penetrated anyway - but it felt straightforward and almost natural to line herself up. It felt like common sense to rub his cockhead over her wet lips, to hear him moan in arousal and need.

They both groaned as she slid down his thick shaft without working into it.

"Izzy, fuck," the only man she'd ever had inside her gasped.

Izzy's hole stretched around the foreign object, her walls welcoming it back. There was no muscle memory telling her how to pleasure a cock. To make it feel good. But she seemed to know anyway.

She had biology and generations upon generations of evolution that willed her to take his cock deeper into her hole, to take it all, even as it stretched her and made her worry about him entering her womb.

Her palms gripped his shoulders as her eyes remained tight closed. She groaned and moaned, the sounds driving Olly crazy with lust.

"Oh fuck," she moaned as she got to the bottom. "It feels like you're tearing me in half."

Olly was thrilled to hear the Izzy he knew, even if it was words he never expected her to say. She smiled back and they kissed.

"You're made for this," he told her seriously.

"I know," she gasped, "that's what worries me."

"Ah, you are worried?" He chuckled.

How they had chosen that moment to have a conversation was anyone's guess. "I guess," she sighed, fighting her mind. He needed to stop talking to her and stop making her think.

"Do you want to stop?" He asked with concern.

"No!" Came the reply. Stop asking me to make decisions.

"Huh," Olly grinned, "it's a small sample size, to be fair. So, you should keep going."

Izzy started to ride him. Her thin, athletic body bouncing shamelessly on her cock. Her breasts and her brushed, messy hair, bouncing all over. The more she got into it, the wilder her movements became.

As it went on though, it felt different. Still wildly pleasurable, but less intense. There were moments where Izzy almost looked at herself from above and wondered what she was doing. Reminded herself how bad an idea it was, even though she was clearly enjoying what was happening.

When Olly came inside her again, her head wasn't empty like it had been before. She couldn't deny how exciting and pleasurable the sex was, but that time it felt like something was missing.

"That was good," Olly praised in a casual tone as she sat on him, his cock still inside her. "You're a natural."

That spiked something in her again. Yes, more of that.

Olly was looking at her curiously, trying to read Izzy's facial expressions. She could see him trying to work her out, but she offered nothing by way of explanation because she didn't understand her mind either at that point.

"I think you should clean us up with your mouth," he decided after a few seconds.

She heard the firmness in Olly's tone and knew it was more than a suggestion. More stirrings of excitement and... calmness.

She climbed off him, dripping cum onto his thigh and cupping a hand over her hole to stop any more flowing out.

Her tongue scooped the cum from his thigh without hesitation and then she moved to his cock. Olly took hold of her hair, wrapping it around his hand until his hand was right up against her head, controlling her.

Izzy shamelessly took him into her mouth as she felt his hand on her head, letting his big cock invade her space like it had her pussy. Olly was softer now that he had cum, but he still felt impressive in her mouth, giving her little room.

She was nervous of getting it right, which would have been an insane concept if she was thinking right, but she was barely thinking at all. All that mattered was cleaning him up.

With his hand on the back of her head, Olly was in control again and it felt natural to obey. He'd let her up when he was ready, Izzy knew that to be the case.

He pulled her mouth off his cock by pulling her hair and then pushed her face into his skin with an unspoken message to lick him. Her tongue covered his skin, licking up every drop of their shared mess. She could taste herself on him, between the intoxicating taste of his cum - masculine and powerful, mixed with her sweet, subtle taste. It summed up the contrast between them and why they seemed to fit together so well.

He had her down there for five minutes before he let her up. Izzy's first realisation was that she was now soaking wet against her hand, and she had been rubbing against her fingers without even noticing.

"Do you want to cum?" Olly asked her. Clearly, he noticed.

Izzy could only gently nod, embarrassed and aroused. Both of those things feeding each other.

In response, Olly pushed her face into his scrotum, pulling at her hair so sharply she gasped.

"Go ahead," he directed assertively. He even spread his legs slightly to give her more space.

Rubbing her clit with her weaker hand, she dove right into the task she was actually being given and started to tongue and kiss Olly's balls and scrotum without hesitation.

Her technique with her fingers was haphazard at best, but it was compensated by the arousal she felt at the humiliating act she was performing on her best friend. Once equals, now far from that.

Olly pushed her head down further and soon she was tonguing and licking him all over, from his balls to his ass.

The humiliation was profoundly arousing, and she felt the stirrings of her orgasm. Sooner than she normally felt it.

She tried to warn Olly, but she needn't have bothered. He could see it in the way her body tensed, and her fingers started to frantically rub.

Olly pushed her down; he must surely have read her mind, as she extended her tongue into his ass, by far the most humiliating, degrading thing she had ever done.

The orgasm struck her so hard, she felt like she was never going to be able to breath again. It transcended her past experience of an orgasm. It wasn't just a release of pleasure but a release of stress and weight, almost.

When it was done, she was shaking with adrenaline.

Olly pulled her up and she obeyed, as she constantly had since he had taken charge again. He pulled her to his chest where she settled and accepted the cuddle, spent and exhausted.

They stayed like that for a while, with Olly quietly stroking her hair. Izzy was aware he was hard again, and she was stunned as well as impressed by his stamina. She had always joked about guys not being able to keep up as a reason for her choosing to be with women.

"We've gotta get up for a shower and breakfast," Olly encouraged her after a few more minutes.

Izzy nodded, feeling awake as she was gripped by the anxiety of seeing everyone after what they'd just done.

"You go first, I want you to be quick and just tie your hair up, it'll take too long to shampoo and dry."

She nodded again, calmer after his instruction. He helped her up and almost walked her to the bathroom. Her legs were shaking as she got into the shower cubicle. The water came out hot after a few seconds of waiting mindlessly for it, and then Izzy stood partially under it, closing her eyes and releasing a sigh of relief at the warm water.

Olly watched her, piecing together what had happened from the point they had woken up. He had always suspected that contrary to her incessant desire to control, was a need to give it up. To follow and be told what to do. Hell, he had even tried to subtly encourage one or two of her girlfriends to be a bit more directive. But they hadn't read her and understood her well. They thought all the planning that they saw - once she let them get that close - made her happy. They couldn't see that she planned everything around dates, and scheduled sex like it was an exercise activity, because she couldn't let go.

Olly realised that as soon as he started giving her options and choices, he was losing her. As soon as he took charge again, she was obedient. He wondered if she was piecing that together under the shower too. Would it be worrying her?

_

Izzy was thrilled under the heat of the water. The orgasm she had just given herself was the best she had ever experienced. It was better than the one from the night before, which had been the best until that point. Her mind, so often close to driving her to insanity, was flooding her with dopamine. Olly had found freedom in her mind, which had always been on edge with anxiety and obsession.

Still, whatever it was, it felt like she finally had a way to switch it off. Being obedient and being used like that felt incredible.

Olly had directed her, told her how he wanted it and all she had to do, was do it. It was so simple. The pleasure was intense and insane. Not just the orgasms but the feelings of pleasure that came with it.

She was woken from her reverie by the shower door opening. Olly joined her, moving behind her and stealing some of the flow with his bigger frame.

He wrapped his hands around her wet body, running his fingers over her skin. He wasn't hugging her, but she felt comforted all the same, like she had the night before after sex.

"Let's start washing you," he whispered softly into her ear.

He reached for the gel in front of her, squeezed a lot onto his huge hands, and started to wash her, while she stood under the hot shower and enjoyed it. Izzy leaned her body back into Olly and turned her head to him. She kissed him gently in thanks, and then turned back around, still leaning into him, as he washed every inch of her.

His hands gently caressed her breasts and her nipples to clean them, then move down to her legs. "Spread," he ordered softly, which she did.

Olly's fingers gently massaged her lips and she visibly shivered. It was all so soft and caring, she was losing her mind in a different way to feel him doing this to her.

He kissed her neck gently as he took the hose of the shower and moved the showerhead to her pussy. She gasped as the jet hit and moaned as he used his hand to spread her lips.

"You've got a lot of my cum inside you," Olly reminded her in a firmer voice, "and I want it to stay in there until you go home."

Izzy nodded but said nothing.

"Are you ready to wash me now?"

She nodded again and still couldn't speak. Olly didn't seem worried about that though when she turned to face him. He seemed comfortable and in control, which she loved.

Izzy squeezed out some more of the shower gel and Olly stepped forward, directly under the flow. She lathered him up, running her hands over his defined arms and chest, marvelling at how naturally strong he was, and let the water wash the soap away.

When her hands moved the soap to his cock, she felt how hard he was as her hands ran over it all, effectively stroking him. She couldn't put into words how much she wanted him again.

"Now my legs," Olly instructed her, moving her on.

When that was done, he turned the water off and opened the door. Though he didn't step out. Instead, he grabbed a towel, wrapped it around Izzy and dried her with it, as he stood there dripping wet. Remarkably, her hair had avoided most of the water and she used a bit of the huge towel to dry it while he patted her down.

When he was content with how she looked, he smiled at her and stepped out, grabbing the other towel and starting to dry himself with a lot less care.

Izzy followed him, blushing heavily at the way she felt soothed and then took the towel from her own body, got on her knees, and started to dry his legs. She wasn't necessarily speeding the drying process but the symbolism of being on her knees, taking the towel from her own body and using it on him, felt meaningful.

In that room, he now had all of the power.

"Get changed, put some light makeup on and then we'll go," he instructed. "When we get to breakfast, we'll carry on as normal and we'll even make jokes about snoring. You're not going to stress, is that clear?"

Izzy was wet again despite the expert drying experience. "Yes," she agreed. Then wanting him to know she appreciated what he was doing, she added a heartfelt, "thank you."

He left her to get ready, though watched her as she slipped her underwear on, with a look as though he was telling her hole that he'd be seeing it again.

"Remember," he said as they got to the door, "follow my lead."

They descended in silence until they got near the bottom when Olly saw some of the wedding party and started to loudly tease her about her pyjamas again. It took her a few seconds but then Izzy started teasing him back about his lame gym shorts and t-shirt combo.

By the time they made it to breakfast, they were bickering and bantering as normal. Izzy had even stopped thinking about her soaked underwear as they helped themselves to the buffet.

The wedding party was stretched across three long tables, with the Jonny and Ciara in the middle, both looking shattered. The older relatives must have had their breakfast early as it was mostly the younger crowd. Olly and Izzy slipped in a few seats away and they both instinctively laughed at the bride and groom.

"You look fucked," Izzy heard herself say and then swallowed, flashing back to Olly destroying her.

Thankfully attention had gone to the couple, so nobody saw how pale her face became - except Olly, who flashed her a warning look that brought colour back to her cheeks in a different way.

They all made general chat, spoke about how great the night was and whether the newly married couple were excited for their honeymoon in a few weeks.

"The prospect of flying right now," Ciara tailed off, looking green.

Izzy noticed Becka at another table at the far side, looking over. They locked eyes and the redhead smiled. Izzy caught herself and smiled back, despite feeling overwhelming possessive of the man next to her.

For one wild, wild moment, she wanted to stop what she was doing, move to her knees without a word, and be back to how she felt in the bathroom when she had been towelling Olly dry and he had felt so powerful and in-control.

Breakfast turned into a long affair of talking and joking, everyone around them slowly regaining some life. Olly and Izzy were probably the only two who weren't hungover, but both were exhausted in a different way.

Long after the plates were cleared and people were on their third coffee, Olly noticed that Izzy was sneaking glances at him as well as the clock on the far side. She wasn't subtle with it either.

"Oh my God, if you look at the clock one more time," Ciara warned Izzy in despair.

They all thought she was stressed about leaving in enough time to get back home before it was dark. That was the Izzy they knew.

But it wasn't the Izzy that Olly now knew. No, he knew she was looking at the time because she needed to have sex again before they left. He could feel it as they sat beside each other, as though she was releasing that desire through her very pores.

"In her defence, I have left my suitcase in a mess," Olly explained casually. "So, we should probably head up so she can inspect it afterwards."

"Har har, you'll be thanking me when we don't have to turn back mid-drive cause you've forgotten something," Izzy played along gratefully.

They left, promising to catch up with the newlyweds before they went on holiday, and ascended the stairs again. "Taking your case down will be a lot easier than that slog upstairs," Olly teased conversationally.

Izzy wasn't able to produce coherent words from her mouth in her excitement at being back alone and out of her head again.

As soon as the door shut behind them, she threw herself at Olly, kissing him with passion. He picked her up, allowing her to wrap her legs around him, and kissed Izzy hard against the wall.

Izzy had done a lot in her hedonistic days and had felt good doing it, but nothing felt like this. It felt like her energy was replenishing, not draining, the more she kissed and gave in. Olly had a firm grip on her body, keeping her trapped there. It started to arouse Izzy so much that she was dry humping him by the time he pulled away.

Then he did something that was so hot she almost melted. Still keeping her pressed against the wall with his body, he took a firm hold on her hair with one hand and then her neck with the other, choking her and pulling at her hair so hard that she couldn't breathe even as her eyes watered and went wide.

He was literally holding her up like that.

Not that she needed to give him any further sign he was completely in-charge, she wanted to for herself. For how sexy it would look and feel.

She unwrapped her arms from him, leaving just her legs around his waist and held her hands flat against the wall beside her in a sign of surrender. The message was brutal and clear, with her not even fighting for air. If she was fighting anything, it was the fact that she felt she could orgasm just from what was happening. If she hadn't been wearing clothes when she was dry humping him, she might already have.

Olly released his hold slightly and let Izzy gasp in air. He freed her hair, sending it sprawling down her face.

His fingers were at her lips, demanding entry, which they got without delay. She just held her mouth open while he explored and pushed them in. He got to the back of her throat and pushed, making her gag, and she just about managed to stop herself pushing him off, returning her hand to the wall.

"Well done," he praised at her restraint, almost melting her afresh.

He put his fingers back into her throat, though this time Izzy was concentrating on not resisting and when she gagged, she still kept immobile, even as her eyes streamed.

Olly let go of her throat, which felt tender in an arousing way and then stepped away. Izzy landed on her feet smoothly, almost proud of herself.

"Strip and come over."

He was sitting on the bed by the time she had haphazardly thrown her trainers and clothes off and was pulling her drenched underwear away from her. That time he saw the strands of fluids that remained stuck to it and saw the way her pussy was soaked all over. What was once small and petite felt swollen and massive, ready to be invaded again.

With the same urge she had had in the bathroom, Izzy went to her knees and literally crawled the distance between them.

"Fuck, that's hot," Olly gushed, and for a second, she remembered it was her best friend, even though she knew that and that was why she was able to do what she was doing in the first place.

He unclasped his belt, pulled down his jeans and took his t-shirt off as she watched by his feet. The desire to have Izzy's mouth on his cock and to make her gag was undeniable.

Olly pointed at his cock, no words were said and Izzy got to work.

Within a couple of minutes, she had come to the conclusion that sucking cock was incredible. It was beyond just soothing, it was comforting and calming. It was a task she could get lost in that felt both satisfying and numbing. She imagined having a stressful day and just asking to suck Olly's cock, allowing her to zone out and unwind.

Olly could see her lost in the oral sex she was providing. He wasn't exaggerating when he had said she was a natural. For a lesbian, she was remarkably good at sex with a man. She sucked cock incredibly well. No teeth, lots of tongue, slick and wet. Alternating between stroking, licking and sucking at a good level and seeming to genuinely enjoy it.

No definitely enjoy it, given the long stream of her own juices leaking down her legs that he could see from his angle.

Olly knew he needed to really hit home their new dynamic, or what it could be. As he had no doubts she would have a wobble - it was too extreme for her not to, to go from 0 to 100 like they had. But he wanted her to see and feel what was possible and then would give her time to come around, if she was going to.

Olly's stroked her cheek as she sucked his cock, undistracted by his touch, though hopefully feeling soothed by it. "You're seriously good at this," he told her with a hint of pride.

Izzy pulled away from his cock, strands of saliva following her. It was such an arousing sight; to see the way her mouth had been covering his cock with saliva. Feeling it in her throat and being able to hold it there was her own version of pride. She knew she was good. She had no idea how she was good, so she had to assume she really was a natural.

"Are you enjoying it?" She could have chosen any response, but more praise was what she craved. She needed to be told she was doing a good job.

"I love it," he replied, with that smugness again. "I told you, you're a natural."

Izzy realised that him being smug was better than him gushing. It would distort the hierarchy she was enjoying so much if he started gushing. Smugness and expectation went hand in hand with the humiliation that was arousing her so much.

What she also started to realise was that she was thinking again, but without the weight of anxiety in her mind. Being on her knees felt natural for her in that way too. She wasn't fighting with herself. She could talk and be herself, but she still felt controlled.

That thought sustained her over the next hour when she lost the ability to think. Olly fucked her rough and he fucked her relentlessly. She took it in ways and in positions she couldn't have ever imagined.

After riding his cock earlier in the morning, she was taken doggy style, prone bone when she was too exhausted to move, reverse cowgirl - where Olly practically just fucked her onto his cock, over the cabinet, on the floor and then surprisingly in the circumstances, missionary. He just took her in every conceivable way.

She took the intensity, the roughness, the pain that accompanied it, and channelled it into pleasure. It fed her every fibre and despite looking and feeling a mess, she knew she'd never felt or looked more herself.

Olly practically used her body to pleasure his cock at points, squeezing her hips or her tits with disregard, willed on by her cries of pleasure.

She had more orgasms than she had ever had in one session, even with toys and a very willing tongue. The orgasms were as relentless as Olly's erection. As soon as one was done, another would start racing along. Sometimes right next to each other, blurring into the same ascent.

To say they were exhausted when he finally came, was an understatement. Izzy's legs were shaking wildly; she could barely open her eyes.

She couldn't remember cleaning up or packing up or taking the cases downstairs or even saying goodbye. Olly told her later that Jonny had joked about her looking freshly fucked.

He had supposedly replied: "She tried to seduce me, but I was not to be turned," which was exactly what he would say.

Her last clear thought was that she hoped Olly had knocked her up because then she would have reason to keep this going. She could be his. And Olly deserved to have a woman who could submit to him so obediently.

***

Izzy woke to the feel of a fast-moving car and road signs indicated they were just over an hour away from London, after some quick maths.

She had passed out soon after they had taken off. Her dreams stayed with her even before she was awake enough to see Olly in the fast lane, putting her new car to the test. She wished she'd seen him floor the accelerator, which would have been hot.

Her dreams floated in the air, and she considered them. She'd been pregnant, Olly was fucking her from behind, her huge baby bump and pregnant tits hanging from her body.

She could still feel the absolute adoration she had for him, stronger than what she felt in the bathroom that morning. He was totally in control, she was his plaything, in every sense.

"Fuck Daddy!"

"Yes Daddy!"

Whether it was related to the dream-pregnancy or not, the recollection of calling a man 'Daddy' filled Izzy with such dread and nausea that it brought back all the feelings of anxiety that had disappeared over the last 18 hours. For a minute or two, she had to fight off an actual anxiety attack.

"Are you okay?" Olly was glancing at her, watching her pant.

"Yeah," she answered a little dismissively, "just catching my breath." She knew he wouldn't buy that, but she needed a minute to compose her thoughts.

Once she brought her breathing under control and settled the anxiety into its usual ever-present but manageable level, Izzy started to think about how unrestrained it all was. How crazy it was to have just become this sex animal - with a man! And not just any man, her best friend.

Fuck, I'm an idiot, she thought to herself.

She was scared of what she'd let out. This wasn't a normal type of anxiety, it was full-on and telling her that there was no turning back unless she put a stop to it. Her hedonistic-self liked it but that wasn't sustainable, what she did. She couldn't give up control to that level, that much. Being on her knees like that, the way she surrendered as he held her up against the wall. How obedient she was. Not just sexually but in every way. She would have done anything.

Her anxiety-ridden brain fed her scenarios, each more extreme than the last. If he had wanted to fuck her throat, she'd have let him. She pictured gagging and throwing up around his cock because she was too obedient to stop him, Olly looking at her in disgust.

She pictured Olly touching her in front of their friends and making her cum as easily as he had been all morning. The humiliation from that and the way her friends would then see her.

She pictured him really making sure she knew she was his. How far would she go in the headspace she had been in?

She knew the answer, because her anxiety was telling her it.

She had realised at breakfast that when he joined her in the shower, he still hadn't peed. So, for one wild moment, she thought he would do that in the shower, on her. And even at breakfast, with the remains of her submissive headspace, she knew she would have knelt down and taken it if instructed.

She wasn't ready for that level of submission, even though she highly doubted Olly would ever do anything that gross to her. That wasn't the point. It was the fact that she would take it.

Was that what she truly was then? A submissive? That was insane to even consider.

All of that happened in her head within the space of about two minutes. That was the power of anxiety, it re-wired your brain.

The real kicker was that she finally had a way to switch it off. Being obedient and being used like that felt incredible. But now it also felt terrifying.

_

The pulled into a service station, which wouldn't have been one that Izzy would have picked out, but Olly had been driving a while, he was probably as tired as her, and he needed a break. And no doubt, he needed to talk to her.

To her surprise, he went to the drive-through route and ordered a coffee for him and then with a quick glance towards Izzy, he ordered one for her too. But he made it decaf, which she knew to mean he was going to drive the rest of the route. Despite being touched, she was annoyed at him making another decision, knowing what he now knew.

That frostiness continued on the drive and for the next few minutes, only the sound of Indie music filled the car.

"You're not doing okay." It was a statement of fact from Olly, he knew her.

Izzy shook her head. There was no need to lie. "What happened this weekend was great, incredible even," she enhanced it to the truth, "but,"

"Uh-oh, here comes the breakup line," Olly grinned. "I can't say I'm surprised, that was 0 to 100 for you."

"Exactly," Izzy nodded, relieved he understood. "It was a lot, and I just know I don't want it again. Are you okay with that?"

"Izzy," he started, and he almost forgot he was driving as he went to reach out to her with both hands, then reminded himself over her noise of alarm and his chuckle. "Izzy," he reached out with just the one hand this time, "you're my best friend and I love you. I will always be there for you, as a friend. That will always come first."

She could feel the stress leaving her at his words. "Thank you," she whispered.

"However," he added with mock drama to his voice, "I don't agree that it's not what you want and need." He let it hang there for a second.

Before she could argue, he talked over her. "But I will never pursue you or pressure you to do this again. Like I said, you're my best friend and I only ever want to support you. After this conversation happens, it'll be as though nothing ever happened. Just know that when you are ready for it, it's on you to make it happen."

She didn't like how he had emphasised the when. That confidence and smugness was less attractive in the confines of the car. "I don't know what you're hoping for but I'm a lesbian and I could do without your jedi mind tricks." His calmness was infuriating her.

"I don't think it's that straightforward in that sense, anyway," he shrugged. "What happened was that you found a different way to exist and be, and you liked it. I think you like the power of being with a man and it's going to settle in your mind that you liked it, and you felt safe. It's not gender-roles or any of that, it's just your specific psychology and the way you've discovered something in yourself."

Izzy was aghast at that. "I've been fine without a man for the last 11 years of my adult life and one crazy night doesn't change that."

"Iz," Olly urged with that same calmness, "please believe me when I say I'm trying to talk to you about it because I'm the only one that will have ever seen this side of you. I know the second we part ways today you'll close right off and not want to talk about it again, which is why I have to tell you where my head's at now."

"You're telling me where you think my head's at," she argued.

"Fair," he agreed, holding his hands up and ignoring Izzy's warning eyes. "I am doing that. But that's because it has helped me to see where I'm at. Which is that if you want it, then I want it and if not, that's fine. I'll always be your best friend and nothing needs to change."

Izzy stuttered and fell silent, contemplating his words with a scowl and crossed-arms.

***

"I'm a University of Edinburgh Grad, though you wouldn't tell with the accent," Laura giggled.

She was cute. Mid-twenties, blonde, pretty. She was working as a barista having moved down to London to pursue a career in production design. Wealthy and classy, was the vibe that was coming off her. Izzy could tell Laura fancied her.

That was good because assuming Laura didn't say anything outrageous, she was going home with Izzy. The older woman, absent-mindedly listening in, really, really, really needed to have sex.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket as Laura spoke, but she didn't check it until she went to the bar. Izzy was in leather shorts and a white shirt, with asymmetric sleeves and her top button undone, designed to look trendy for the art graduate but also show plenty of skin.

Olly: How's the date?

Izzy had told him about it because she always would have, and he had assured her on the journey home that it was forgotten, and they'd never talk of it again. Still, she wondered if the reason he was asking was entirely friendly.

She'd told him at lunch, both of them working in the office. She tried to ignore concerns and not read into his neutral reaction as he asked the usual probing questions about who she was and how Izzy felt about her. She just about managed to ignore how good he looked in his white shirt through the questioning.

Laura wasn't the best option for what Izzy needed. She was barely 5'4 and slimmer than even Izzy was. But in Izzy's defence, she didn't know what she needed until she had seen Olly that day and felt an unquenchable desire to be fucked. If she was keen on going back with her, Izzy was going to make damn sure Laura knew where the strap-on was going when she got it out.

"Oh fuck yes! Right there!"

"Harder!"

"Fuck me!"

Izzy could see the surprise in Laura's eyes, but the blonde woman was game for fucking her. It was a bit haphazard, and it was nowhere near as intimate, but the five inches felt great inside her. The problem was that Laura wasn't fucking her hard enough, or deep enough.

But she fucked her gamely, even breaking into a sweat to try and satisfy Izzy.

Finally, when it looked like it would never happen, Izzy felt the stirrings of an orgasm.

"Oh yes, right there!"

But Laura was tiring, "I can't," she was slowing, "I'm shattered."

"Please, I'm so close!"

Laura tried, but the moment was gone.

"Okay," Izzy sighed, "take that off and get between my legs." Ordering the younger woman about wasn't intentional, she was just desperate to cum and needed it a certain way.

Laura reacted well to it though, letting out a little purr of excitement and doing as told.

My fucking luck that I find a sub, Izzy thought.

She wondered if she could joke about it with Olly. He'd definitely laugh, but then that violated their agreement of not talking about what happened a few weekends ago.

Laura had a talented mouth, that was for sure. Before the wedding, she'd be bringing Izzy off easy enough, but things weren't working the same. She knew that from her own attempts.

"Your fingers," she hissed at the blonde, "I need penetration to cum." The addition of fingers added the necessary stimulation and the psychological aspect of being fucked, settled her.

Then she saw the strap-on cock laying there. Within reach.

"Don't you dare stop until I cum and you keep your eyes closed," Izzy warned her.

"Mmm yes miss," Laura purred.

Checking her eyes were indeed closed, Izzy reached out and took the strap in hand. It was a lot smaller than Olly's cock, probably half the size. But it would do. She was so needy by then that she truly didn't care if Laura saw her doing it and considered her a freak. Somehow, she knew the woman would be fine with it as long as Izzy kept her around.

Ignoring the parallels, Izzy sucked it into her mouth, trying her hardest not to make any sounds. It felt right to have something phallus-like in her mouth again. It felt so good, so natural, that she could already feel her orgasm approaching.

When it crashed over her, she pulled the plastic cock from her mouth to cry out and praise Laura's efforts. "Right there, right there! Don't stop! Such a good girl!"

Now that the plastic had served its purpose, she cast it aside and held Laura's head down. Struck by her own filthy imagination though, she pushed it down further.

Laura got the idea and much like Izzy had done a couple of weekends ago, she started to lick her dominant partner's ass without complaint.

It wasn't going to make her cum, but it did allow her mind to pleasantly drift to the moment when Olly had held her face to his ass and made her cum from it.

After many nights with the images straying into her dreams and those moments before sleep, Izzy felt pretty certain she would be able to cum without even touching herself, if she ever used her mouth on him again.

If.

That word toyed with her.

When.

That's what Olly had said, and she had been fighting that ever since. She had got it down to 'if' and soon it would be 'hypothetically' and then it would be 'unlikely' and then it would just not be a thing.

_

Olly knew from the lack of her replying the night before that Izzy had taken her date home. He was being extremely careful to not let his mind stray. He was mentally disciplined in certain ways. His job actually helped him there. Look into data too soon and you assume an outcome and then confirmation bias sets in.

He wasn't going to go on any dates for at least the next few weeks, because Izzy would use that as an excuse to not initiate something. He didn't want to risk that because nobody he'd meet on a dating app or at a bar would mean as much to him as she did.

Not only was she his best friend, who he trusted with everything from his phone password to his shameful family past, she was also the person he had the most fun with and someone he saw being friends with for life. He knew the sex had been incredible, the dynamic natural and easy. But it wasn't just the way the hierarchy had developed, it was that they read each other's minds. He knew what she needed in any given moment - from caring for her through to fucking her in really hard, degrading ways. She had turned him on at points in ways nobody ever had. He could still picture her crawling over and the way she had held her hands obediently against the wall in total compliance.

They hadn't mentioned that weekend at all, except a one-view image from Izzy, sent on WhatsApp, of an emergency contraceptive pack. No doubt assuring him she wasn't going to take any risks, though part of him hoped she would. Before all of it had happened, he had been weighing up offering to be her sperm donor. But he was hesitant because of how complicated things could get between them. In comparison to this, it was laughable.

He saw family and other friends over those weeks, and they'd met for lunch in the office, but it was one of those rare weeks where both of them had legitimately been busy. And the weekend after the wedding had always been one where they were due to spend time with their respective families.

For Izzy that had been another long drive, and he suspected the distance had done her good, but they still spoke daily, as always.

That night was to be the first time they were together in a social setting, around alcohol.

They'd both been working from home that day, so Olly wasn't in a shirt when they met. Just his standard t-shirt and trousers. He'd opted against spraying any aftershave, deciding his natural pheromones may perhaps do a better job of enticing Izzy.

He wasn't surprised when he got to the bar to see that he was the first there. He was always early. Izzy was never late but since she put a renewed focus on her appearance, it always took her longer to get ready.

She arrived after Jamie, who had also been at the wedding but just for the evening part. He had just been interrogating Olly on why he hadn't slept with Becka ("who cares if she's seeing someone man? That girl was laying it on!") when Izzy came into view.

She was wearing a skirt that was cut above the knee, showing off her terrifically tanned legs and a crop top showing off her toned midriff. She'd already received a couple of looks from people around the bar.

Both of them stood up to hug her in turn. Izzy let go of Olly faster than normal, by his observation. He said nothing though, knowing her head was still a mess.

Jamie went to grab her a drink while they made small talk, with Olly determined to look only at Izzy's face, which was classily made up as always, without being overdone. Her long hair was tucked over one shoulder, which threatened to trail his attention down to her body again.

Jamie took a while at the bar, and they looked over to see a couple of other friends had arrived and were ordering with him. As Olly looked back towards Izzy, a pretty blonde woman - his perfect type, petite and busty too - looked away and back to her friends.

There were six of them that evening, with Jonny and Ciara skipping the meet-up on account of their upcoming honeymoon and a few other friends having competing plans.

As was usually the case with that particular group of friends (they were mostly Olly's originally), lots of alcohol was consumed and pizza was shared. Laughs, jokes, inside jokes between one or two of them.

Olly had realised as the night wore on that Izzy's short skirt actually had a split in it, leading almost to her hip. He assumed it was a new trend, like the side-boob trend of a few years ago, that the shape of her ass was visible if she bent over.

He wasn't the only one who had noticed it as Jamie had seen it and jokingly suggested that Izzy go and play pool. She rolled her eyes in such a way that they landed back on Olly, who was looking at her in a way that immediately turned her on.

All Olly noticed was the way her face changed first to embarrassment and then to a warning stare, almost daring him to say something. He didn't, the stare told him enough.

Then something happened that made that look of anger even worse.

When he went to the bar to order drinks, the woman who had looked his way earlier in the evening happened to be waiting for her order nearby. They locked eyes, she smiled at him and got to talking.

"You guys look like you're having fun," she grinned, her eyes sparkling. Blue eyes, blonde hair, a great chest, 5'5. She was even hotter than he thought.

"We do okay," Olly shrugged, not wanting to be rude. Her confidence was attractive. In a different moment in time, the drinks order would be forgotten, and they'd be flirting.

"Yeah, you do," she winked, looking him over shamelessly. "I'm Katie by the way."

"Olly," he offered when she extended her hand. "Very formal of you."

She shrugged in a cocky way. "A man's grip says a lot about him. What's the deal with you and the babe opposite you?"

Izzy had chosen that moment to stomp over, out of Olly's vision. "Nothing, we're just friends."

Given Izzy had only caught that last line, it sounded like Olly was trying to put the moves on her.

She may only have been a couple of inches taller than the blonde, and a hell of a lot less confident, but Katie still withered under Izzy's look.

"I came to grab the drinks since you weren't getting any," came her curt explanation.

She turned away and faced the bar. Looking both sexy and angry, she was served almost immediately.

Katie raised her eyebrows, took her drinks and walked off, taking Olly's chances with her.

"Thanks," he said sarcastically, "I wasn't going to entertain it anyway."

"Oh please, you were blatantly hitting on her," Izzy replied with bite. Then she caught herself and heard how it sounded. How it really was. "And I wanted my drink," she changed her tone to soft and lighthearted, even giving Olly a wink that she didn't for one moment believe in.

"Isabelle," he started.

"Don't full name me," she cut across him. "And no Jedi mind tricks."

_

Izzy threw her keys on the counter in a strop. They slid off the other side and landed with a crash on the floor. Sighing, she picked them up and placed them firmly on the counter, staring at them so they knew to stay there that time.

She emptied her bag, put everything where they belonged in the house and then started to get undressed. She threw her ridiculous skirt off, which made her more annoyed, then collected it and put it in the wash basket with the rest of her clothes.

She walked to the bathroom and looked at her naked body in the mirror. Ignoring the scowl on her beautiful face, she looked again at her body - her small b-cup breasts, pert but small nonetheless, her flat stomach with the hint of abs, her toned legs - and sighed.

She had been pissed, and she couldn't apologise because then she'd be acknowledging that she was pissed and effectively telling him it was because of how she felt.

Because the woman was hot, undeniably so. Of course she was. Not many women hit on the man in a social setting. That made her hot and confident too. She would probably have no problem at all with being Olly's plaything. She was his type, she knew that as soon as she spotted her earlier in the evening.

But he had swore he said said no to her advances. Which meant he was waiting on her. She already assumed as much.

When you're ready.

"Well, you'll be waiting a while," Izzy replied to herself in that same anger.

But then she did something that made her even more annoyed: she touched her pussy. And she was wet.

"Fuck!" She cried out in frustration.

She couldn't stop the images of Olly pounding that woman. Absolutely pounding her senseless while Izzy watched and masturbated to it like some kind of jealous voyeur.

Izzy had sort-of accepted that she could, maybe propose some kind of threesome as long as she wasn't involved.

But every time that thought cropped up, she reminded herself it was ridiculous, and Olly would never agree to that. Laura was bisexual and she had even asked if Izzy was bisexual too, on account of her liking to be fucked so much. Obviously, that had got a harsh response back.

She briefly considered offering Laura to Olly, almost like feeding prey to a lion. Then she caught herself and where her mind had gone - that she was thinking like that.

That pissed her off more.

The problem was that her synapses had somehow changed since that weekend. Even right then, she was craving penetration.

Sighing, she walked back to her bedroom and opened up the middle drawer of her set, pulling towels out of the way. The top drawer was very openly her sex drawer with lube and clitoral stimulators and vibes and her strap-on. It even held fluffy handcuffs and a little crop from back when she thought she knew what kinky was.

Now, the middle drawer housed a new purchase that only came into her possession after that change to her synapses.

It was an 8-inch, realistic-looking dildo. Thick and veiny, it was now a frequent visitor of Izzy's hands and holes.

She'd initially purchased a 6-inch pink silicone thing. But it didn't do the job, to a maddening degree.

As soon as she caved-in, bought the bigger dildo and held it in her hand, it felt better. She was practically leaking just from feeling it. That reaction continued, even on the evenings when she was as pissed off as she was then.

Izzy took it into her mouth, running her tongue over the fake-veins and ridges. She sighed into it, feeling better immediately.

Keeping it in her mouth, despite how ridiculous she looked, she walked to her bed, sat down and opened her laptop up. It took her a few more seconds to find her video, by which point she was practically salivating around the cock, and then she got to watching it.

She pictured Olly instead of the actor. They looked similar in body though not face, so Izzy focused on not looking above his chest. The actor had a huge dick too, which helped.

The actress was still Carter Cruise, it wasn't Izzy, but the way she was quite submissive and eager to please really did hit her.

Izzy sucked the dildo at first, her eyes on the screen, looking at the actress' form and imitating it. She sucked it for longer than the actress and she only moved the dildo down to her pussy when the ache for it became unbearable.

She shoved it in hard, like Olly would shove his own cock into her. Taking it, owning it.

There was a part of her, she acknowledged in her aroused state, that wanted Olly to be equally pissed off at the bar and take hold of her hair and...

But he had just sat back down and shrugged it off. At first, she thought he was being a dick in brushing it off but then she realised he had hidden his real annoyance so that their friends wouldn't think they'd had an argument and ask about it.

The way he looked after her even when she was being a royal bitch flicked the anger from being directed to him and onto herself.

She had left a little while later. He'd hugged her goodbye, and she had kept hold of him tight for longer than normal, trying to wordlessly apologise. Trying to tell him she wished she could do it, but she couldn't give him what he wanted.

But that was a lie, Izzy knew that deep down. Because she came around the plastic cock within a couple of minutes and then kept fucking herself through another orgasm. Then had it back in her mouth and cleaned it up that way.

Izzy recognised that she didn't just like cock now, she needed it.

The new emerging problem, on top of the ongoing terror of how submissive she was to him, was the anxiety and the drama of suddenly needing to tell everyone she was with a man. Having to explain she wasn't straight, even though she was pretty sure Olly had fucked her straight. Or at least bisexual.

"But only for you," she whispered, her eyes on the actor's body.

Izzy had also debated asking him to do a friend with benefits situation, if she really couldn't get over her mindfuck. But he'd say no. He practically said it was the whole thing or nothing.

_

They'd had tickets for the stand-up comedian for months. She was one of their favourites to see live. It was just going to be just the two of them going - because when they'd bought the tickets, they didn't need any buffers.

Laura, who was still dating Izzy, had tried to find a resale ticket to join them but had no luck. She was desperate to meet Olly, who she knew as Izzy's best friend.

The week or so before the show had been better. Normal, even. Because Izzy had cracked it.

She'd found out how to deal with the incessant desires she now had. And it was simply to pretend that there were two Olly's. One was her friend, who she treated as normal, to increasing success. The other was the Olly who had fucked and dominated her so well that he had broken her.

The latter person didn't exist outside of that weekend and because of that, she could push her twisted thoughts into that space, being her normal self with her best friend.

When he turned up at hers as planned, given she lived closer to the venue, they hugged as normal, she got out a bottle of his favourite beer, which she always kept stocked in her fridge and she even got dressed with the bedroom door open as he sat in the other room so that they could keep talking - something she always did.

She settled on jeans and a top, matching Olly's casual look that evening, and even managed to compartmentalise her annoyance with the skirt she wore the last time they went for a drink.

Olly checked Izzy out when she walked back into the room, though only her feet and her arms were bare. Izzy noticed and ignored it, because it was what it was. He wasn't a robot, and she knew he'd looked a couple of times in their friendship. She was fine with that, it was a compliment really, that even with their strong friendship and the respect he had for her, he still found her attractive.

Before she could properly push her feelings to one side, she felt her arousal come through. Like trying to catch water in a cup but not aligning it properly with the tap, a bit of dopamine flooded through, and she had an urge to wear something like that skirt again.

Instead, she focused back in on being his friend.

"I'm sorry I was such a bitch a few weeks ago with the girl at the bar. I, yeah, you didn't deserve that," she finished, taking a drink from her own bottle. She didn't like the brand much, it was too hoppy, but Olly liked it, so she suffered in silence.

He stood up from the sofa and walked over to her, reminding her that he was quite an intense person in his own right. Maybe that was why she was always calmer with him to begin with, she thought. Because he was so assured.

He looked at her with that intensity and when before she would have teased him for being weird, this time she held his stare, feeling her pulse rate rise.

Her nipples started to harden without warning, and she felt herself becoming wet. Her breathing felt difficult and shallow.

All in the time between him walking five yards and taking a few seconds to talk.

"Please don't," she whispered.

"Don't what?" Olly cocked his head to the side in consideration, though he obviously knew.

She swallowed. "You promised you wouldn't," she pleaded.

His face softened and he glanced down at her hands to see she had been squeezing the countertop to try and stay in control. "I wasn't going to," he assured her, and she could tell from his tone it was genuine. "You brought it up, I came over here to reassure you that your behaviour was entirely understandable because you're still processing things and in fact, I was going to remind you it never happened."

Olly took hold of her hand and squeezed it. She looked at him, feeling her pulse slowing down and nodded in relief. Her anxiety had made clear she should be freaking out over how easily she had given away his ability to control her, but with his hand soothing her, she ignored it.

When you're ready.

"Tell me about your own fit blonde chicka then," Olly suggested with a lopsided grin.

Izzy was happy to do so, grateful for the change in pace. She even told him that Laura was sexually submissive. Olly burst out laughing but didn't link it back to her.

The laughter didn't really stop for the rest of the night. The comic was hilarious, both of them crying tears of laughter. It broke the spell entirely and they were able to ignore whatever chemistry was between them, though it threatened to spill over again when they got too close in their seats, or when they hugged goodbye and she was flooded with his pheromones.

Altogether, the evening had been a mixed bag. Izzy's attempts to compartmentalise the Olly she was around by had partly worked, but only partly. Because she hadn't accounted for Olly following his own rules.

The biggest realisation for Izzy that night was that he could have her whenever he wanted to. It was as brutally simple as that.

He could have her on her knees with barely more than a look and she would be powerless to resist. He clearly already knew that, and he'd have known it right from the drive home from the wedding.

But he was waiting for her to instigate it. She could have it if she wanted it.

The fact he wasn't taking control and was instead waiting for her to sort her head out, was a comfort. She knew if she decided she didn't want anything to happen between them, it would be her decision entirely.

It helped that she was seeing someone as she knew Olly would never come between that. The sex with Laura was improving, objectively, as they became more comfortable with each other. The trouble was, Izzy was enjoying leading less and starting to want to be on her knees more.

Her stress in that regard was worse than ever because she had acknowledged she was submissive with men but never had been that way with women. And she didn't want to be, either.

It reached crisis point when she had got an informal dressing-down at work for snapping at one of the IT guys who hadn't properly completed a data privacy assessment.

Even Olly heard about it as he worked in an adjacent team.

Olly: Are you okay? I heard you lost your shit pretty bad.

Izzy: Lol you heard? I'm fine, I'm just tense.

Olly: That's what your girlfriend's for!

Izzy: Lol thanks smartass!

Olly: Anything I can do?

Izzy: No, thank you x

She stared at that message for a while, weighing up changing her answer. She had felt so light at the wedding breakfast with Olly, despite the worry of people knowing they'd just fucked. In the car she had slept for hours too. Sure, it was partly exhaustion, but it was also the lack of mental gymnastics that accompanied her existence.

Izzy was still staring at their chat when another message from Olly came through.

Olly: It's Wednesday, don't forget to call your Mum and Dad! Or else I can drop them a quick message xx

"Fuck," Izzy exclaimed.

She loved her parents, but the fortnightly call fell at a terrible time.

She loudly cursed Olly in her quiet apartment for being so considerate and on top of things for her.

Of course, as soon as her dad answered and they went through the usual pleasantries, he asked how Olly was doing.

After the near hour-long call, Izzy couldn't help thinking about how obvious it was that her parents wanted her and her best friend together.

She used to think it was because he was a man and they wanted a more traditional relationship for their daughter. But the more she thought about it - when Olly visited them with her, when they came over - they could see what they were like together.

Stuck and with no one else to turn to, she called her dad again.

"Hey Dad, I have a question to ask you and then I maybe need your advice depending on the answer."

She paused and took a deep breath. "Do you think Olly & I should be together?"

***

"What do you mean you can't make it? It's Eurovision! It's tradition! I've bought all the food!" Izzy's whining echoed around her apartment.

Ciara looked sympathetic on the video call. "I know babe but Jonny's in a bad way, he's been throwing up all morning. Plane food, I tell ya," she sighed.

"But we haven't seen you in weeks, Jonny can look after himself," she implored.

"The fuck can he," the newly tanned bride chuckled. "But even if he could, if it's a bug we'd wipe you all out too."

"True," Izzy sighed. "Raincheck then?"

Izzy sent texts to Olly and Laura to let them know it would just be the three of them. She had no doubt they'd have a great time though. They'd met in a group a few days earlier and got on well.

Olly got there first, bags with beer and snacks in his big hands.

"Why have you brought more?" Izzy laughed hollowly, whilst in despair at her lack of cupboard storage space for the additional bottles. She hated things out on the counter tops.

"We'll have to drink more tonight then," Olly chuckled, reading her mind and going with it.

Izzy went and grabbed the bottle opener and opened his beer, leaving it at his usual spot on the table. He went and took his trainers off; leaving them on the shoe rack and then went to change into the shorts he kept at hers - comfy gym shorts - because he always got hot and she was always cold.

"I can't believe you got more of your beers and nachos," she chided, genuinely a little offended. "When have you ever come to my house and not had whatever you need?"

"I'd already bought the beers earlier in the day," he shrugged, sipping the beer and letting her burn her frustration out. "When I thought Jonny was coming."

She poured some of the Doritos into a chip bowl and left it on his side of the dining table. He wasn't sitting at the table but that was always Olly's place, so she left it there as standard. She didn't eat Doritos so it would all be his, and Laura could have some if he wanted.

"Do I look okay?" She asked.

She was in a white vest top and shorts. She looked great to Olly, but he looked at her suspiciously. "Why are you so stressed?"

"Cause I'm hosting this year," she reminded him with a look that said it was obvious.

"And this is why we worry about your hosting, my little control freak," he teased, "you run around like you have ants in your pants."

"I just like you having what you want," she defended. "You all," she clarified when she heard how it sounded.

Laura knocked a few minutes later, while Olly was watching the football before Eurovision started. They'd both had watching parties when they were at university separately and had kept the tradition alive, introducing it into their friendship group.

"Hey beautiful," Laura gushed on seeing her.

"Hey," Izzy smiled, and they kissed. "And beautiful is strong, I look like crap."

"No, you don't," Laura walked in shaking her head. "You look great."

"Izzy, just go and change, wear something fancy," Olly called out from the other room. "Hey Laura, trust me, it's easier to do it my way."

"Help yourself," Izzy gestured to the lounge and the wine cabinet for Laura's bottle of wine. She didn't even protest his instruction.

When she came back into the lounge, Laura and Olly were sitting on the sofa chatting.

"Better?" Olly asked.

"Wow," Laura replied half a second later.

"Yes, thank you," she replied to the room.

"You're welcome," Olly replied. Laura missed the nature of the exchange entirely and laughed, thinking it was a joke.

Izzy had changed into a baby blue, sleeveless mini dress that was a little too dressy for the evening, but Laura wasn't complaining.

Izzy busied herself topping up the Doritos bowl and opening another beer for Olly, who hadn't gone to get one himself.

They sat and spoke for a while, with Olly and Izzy taking Laura through 'Eurovision Bingo' and promising it'd be great fun.

"You hungry Ol?" Izzy asked when her own stomach was rumbling.

"I am, actually," Laura replied thinking on it.

Izzy waited for Olly before she moved. He nodded and went back to watching the performances.

"Right, I've got your meat feast, obviously," Izzy called out, reminding him of her earlier point, "and then Laura, I've got vegetables or chicken?"

"Can I have some meat feast?" Laura asked cheerfully.

The whole exchange jarred at Izzy for reasons she didn't understand. "Of course," Olly replied first.

"So, Olly, are you seeing anyone?" Laura asked while Izzy was putting the pizza in the oven.

The kitchen area became very silent, all of a sudden. "No, I'm waiting for the right person to come along."

Izzy knew it was her he was waiting on and she willed herself to feel guilty. She wanted to feel guilty, because that was the right thing to feel.

But she couldn't. Olly wanting her felt special.

They were midway through the acts when the pizzas were ready. Izzy plated with Laura's help, while Olly ticked off another part of the bingo card and reminded them that they needed to drink when they sat back down.

"Look at you living the housewife life," Laura teased, kissing her. "It's cute."

The ate the pizza while enjoying the outlandish performance from Finland and on autopilot, Izzy went to put more pizza onto Olly's plate before he could even ask.

She stopped at the oven and assessed the difference. Her best friend expected her to look after him like that - she'd been doing it for so long. Whereas Laura was keen to help out whenever she could, constantly asking if she could do things. Sure, it was partly newness, but that worked both ways. Laura was new but Izzy wasn't going out of her way to look after her.

She walked the long way around to the sofa, passing the dining table. She glanced down and it hit her that Olly's seat was literally the head of the table.

"Croatia's next, this'll be great," Olly leaned forward in excitement, as did Laura.

Izzy sat back, benefitting from the moment of being out of the conversation.

She recognised right then that she had treated Olly differently for years. It had never been sexual, but she still went out of her way to look after him. She did it almost mindlessly.

It fit together in her head with beautiful clarity.

He was the only person she ever switched off for. The only one she had ever mindlessly taken care of, for years. The person who looked after her, who she could spin out around and know he would take care of her.

She had always felt something. A strong affinity, something like adoration, in a way. She just really, really liked him as a person. Even at the wedding, she had wanted him to acknowledge something towards her. Had told him she came over that man and he'd have known it wasn't really the actor she was masturbating over...

The sex had been unplanned and accidental, but now the connection they had experienced during that wild weekend made sense. As did the way they naturally fell into their roles when they had sex. Because she had always taken care of him and worshipped him in some form.

She missed Croatia's entry entirely and only snapped out of it when the United Kingdom's entry came on and they both let out excited cheers.

Izzy and Olly locked eyes in that moment and she went to stand up, to make a statement. Before she could, Laura grabbed her and let out a squeal of excitement.

It reminded her that Laura was there. She hid the gasp of surprise as a cough.

Izzy instead stood up and went to the kitchen area. Olly said nothing, he just let her do what she needed to do, whereas Laura called after her. She watched the song from afar, almost out of her own body.

Izzy checked the time and knew there were at least a couple of hours before the end of the show. They still had all the voting to do, and that took ages. She quietly cursed and poured out a glass of white wine, taking a large drink of it. Her hands were shaking.

She had to work out how to make all the steps she needed to make in that time and do it in a way that wasn't an absolutely terrible thing to do to one of them.

Only at the end of the performances did Laura get up to use the bathroom again.

"When I'm ready for it," Izzy said quietly, eyes on the floor beside her feet.

"Sorry?"

"When I'm ready for it, is what you said," Izzy clarified.

Olly was looking at her cautiously, but she could read him. He was excited and he knew. She was excited too.

And scared, and anxious and exhilarated.

"But I swore to you two years ago that I would never cheat again," Izzy reminded him of that painful time in their friendship.

"So, I can't do what I am aching to do, which is to," she swallowed hard, "be on my knees and tell you I'm ready."

Izzy paused, she could hear the toilet flush.

"Just a bit of time," she pleaded, now looking Olly in the eyes, "I don't want her to see it tonight, it'll kill her."

Laura came out at that moment.

"Would you though?" Olly asked. A question that could have meant anything without context. "If I said to, I mean," he asked cheerily, covering the context of the question.

"No, I said I'd never do it again," Izzy replied, knowing it was true. "So, I can't, and I won't."

"What are you guys talking about?"

"Izzy's reminding me of a promise she made me," Olly explained in that cool tone. She could see hints in his expression that he was delighted with her response. "Never to drink my beer," he added for fake-context.

Despite feeling terrible for Laura, Izzy felt incredible. A mixture of butterflies, excitement and calmness threatened to overwhelm her.

She'd got there, she'd crossed the threshold by realising she was already on the other side.

Sex hadn't been the start of the journey, but the end.

Olly set a very good example for Izzy, being neutral in expression, being completely appropriate. Izzy was struggling to maintain the pretence that she wasn't completely at his service until about 30 minutes before the end, when she claimed to start feeling sick.

She went to the bathroom with her phone in her bra and looked through all of the pictures of her and Olly, which she had organised into a folder on her phone long ago. All of her pictures were categorised into folders based on events or locations, but he had his own folder along with her family.

The way she looked at him, in practically every picture... how had so many others seen it but not her?

She spent a while longer in the bathroom to enhance the lie about her sickness.

Izzy: I'm going to say I'm unwell soon and talk her out of staying. Please can you insist on ordering her a taxi and find a way to hang back? I promise I'll end it; I feel dreadful about it.

It wasn't a surprise at all that Olly had talked Laura into leaving when Izzy claimed to feel unwell, and then chivalrously ordering her an Uber, promising to jump in the next one.

When they were alone, all Izzy wanted to do was give in and kiss her best friend. He was no longer hiding his lust and that thrilled her. But she had to talk. He had to know.

"Leading Laura along like this is the worst thing I've done since the affair," she swallowed. "I swear to you, and I'd swear to her that I didn't think I was leading her along at first and then it just became easier to live the lie."

"It's okay Iz, I get it," he assured her. They were standing in the middle of her living room, the tv on mute; she hadn't even taken in who had won. "It's okay," he grasped her shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly.

"The answer has been staring me in the face. In pictures, in little acts of service that only you receive," she explained, and then she started to pull her zipper down on her dress. "But the most obvious piece of evidence is here."

She pulled her dress off and stood naked in her blue bra and thong. Olly's mouth was hanging open and he'd taken a step back in hesitation.

Izzy was calmly pointing to the tattoo under her left breast, the only one she had.

"I look at this every day when I look in the mirror and women ask me why I have a tattoo of something that sorta looks like an eye under my left breast."

Olly looked to be confused but intrigued. With all the excitement and the madness of that weekend, she wondered if he'd seen the small tattoo - about the size of a coin - at all.

"I was never going to tell you this, but it's your eye, I drew it out from memory after the affair and our fight. I altered it slightly, so it was less obvious and had it tattooed on me. Only it's not under my left breast, it's over my heart. It's you watching over me and making sure my decisions are right."

Olly was speechless. His jaw was slack comically so. Despite the fact that Izzy had tears in her eyes from telling him something she had never told anyone, she laughed at his reaction.

"So, when I tell you that I belong to you and I just took a while to realise it, I hope this proves that."

***

It was a few weeks later.

They'd had to call the pub a couple of hours before to ask for a bigger table for their booking after announcing their news. Olly and Izzy were part of a large WhatsApp group with various friends that was used to chat and organise social invites.

The 'Saturday Drinks in The Sun' event, named after their usual pub, had been organised the week before. Olly and Izzy hadn't necessarily planned to time the announcement with the drinks, but it made sense to.

They'd made no mention of anything on social media and didn't plan to for a while yet. But they'd been out with some of their friends since finally getting together and hiding it that night had been difficult.

A man had hit on Izzy that evening (she'd later joked she was clearly giving off straight vibes now) and she'd rejected him by saying she had a boyfriend. It still felt weird to say but gave Izzy a warmth inside her when she did.

The man had persisted and then Olly had shown up at the bar and in a complete role-reversal, had stared menacingly at the man. "You can leave my woman alone now," he'd said.

Izzy had been so aroused at being termed that way and how the man had been chased away because of it, that she damn near kissed him at the bar.

Flustered and wet, she carried the drinks to the table in three trips, her juices soaking her underwear with every passing second. Izzy had never wanted to be seen as belonging to someone, but she had belonged to Olly for a while now, she had come to realise.

He was waiting at the bar with a drink in his hand, just watching her. "You are so gorgeous," he'd said conversationally.

"You're so alpha," she'd moaned in response. "I'm losing my fucking mind trying not to rip your clothes off."

"If anything should be ripped off, it's that dress."

Izzy had moaned loudly enough that if the music was turned down a bit, the whole bar would have heard. "I'd let you," she admitted. "Right here and right now. I know my man has needs and I want to fulfil them."

They eye-fucked for the rest of the evening and had laughed afterwards that it was crazy that nobody had noticed.

Hence another social event without telling the group first, felt stupid. There were too close now, they could barely keep apart.

Izzy: Ermm people, Olly and I have some news. In advance of Saturday Drinks in The Sun, and to give you time to get the surprise out of your system... Olly and I are in a relationship. Like, the dating kind. See you at The Sun!

"At the wedding?!" Ciara's gasp of surprise was comical, though only Izzy and Olly laughed. The rest of the group looked to be in solid agreement with Ciara.

Olly wrapped his strong arm around Izzy, and she sighed in release at having him touching her, holding her. She put her arm over his and interlocked their fingers. Then she took his hand, brought it to her mouth and kissed it as her friends watched.

"Yeah, so after the whole Becka thing hadn't worked out," Olly was explaining while Izzy tried to stop from zoning out over his arm being around the back of her neck. "I got back to my room and Izzy was watching porn,"

They all laughed. Izzy grinned. The humiliation was hot. New things had started to come out now that Olly's love and dominance had taken over the negative stresses in her brain.

"She scrambled and then we laughed about it. But both of us were turned on and yeah, Iz made a move," Olly grinned. He knew her so well already, he knew the humiliation was getting to her. She squeezed his fingers in encouragement. "She came onto me and then we had sex."

"Izzy, is this true?!" Chloe, one of the women who had suddenly 'found' a babysitter after the news, looked at her in disbelief.

"Afraid so," Izzy grinned. "He, well, fucked me straight," she blushed. She loved saying that. It was so perverse and taboo. So hot. It probably wasn't completely true, but it was inflammatory and shocking to even vocalise.

"But Laura," Chloe added awkwardly.

"Yeah, I'm not proud," Izzy felt the fire cooling. Olly tightened his hold on her fingers until they hurt, which stopped the decline in her mood, as quickly as that. "But it was like 0 to 100 and I didn't know how to process it, so I just went full denial."

Jonny laughed, they'd made a bet that Jonny would laugh at some point. Izzy had bet Olly that he'd laugh at the 'being fucked straight' line and Olly had said it would be when she talked about being in denial. How was he always right? Izzy wondered.

Jonny laughed so hard, the group waited for him to get his thought out. "So, you fucked her so well," at that, Izzy blushed heavily as she was effectively talked about as an object by her own friend, "that she no longer considered herself a lesbian, and then you decide: na, I won't push her, I'll let her be sure? The balls on this guy."

At that, everyone laughed, even Olly. "I mean, I kind of knew we'd be here," Olly shrugged nonchalantly. "She just needed time."

Izzy knew she'd never tire of that slight arrogance he had when it came to her. It stemmed from him knowing her and being assured about it, and she loved that.

"Yeah, but two months?" Jamie asked in disbelief. "I mean, that was brave."

"I'd have waited two years," Olly replied, looking down at Izzy.

She could have cried in joy. They kissed; Izzy moaned into and wrapped her free arm around Olly's neck. The group let out loud 'awww's' and then someone, probably Jonny, wolf-whistled.

"Alright, alright," Ciara laughed, breaking them up.

"Yeah, she's definitely straight," Jonny laughed.

The interrogation went on a little while longer, about plans now they were dating and whether they'd told their families, and then conversation moved on and people adjusted to seeing them together, though they still got the occasional shake of the head when anyone looked towards them and saw them holding hands, or seeing Izzy leaning into him.

Everyone got a great blow-by-blow of Ciara and Jonny's honeymoon and then a gross replay of Jonny's few days after their return, which almost put Izzy off her chicken wings.

"I thought you hated chicken on the bone?" Ciara noticed with interest.

"I do. Well, did," Izzy shrugged. She'd stolen some of Olly's food and the wet wipe that came with the wings.

Over the last few weeks, Izzy had found she was a lot more adventurous with everything from food through to spontaneous, unplanned dates where she didn't even check the reviews or the menu beforehand.

Olly's presence had just completely calmed her, and he took charge. She realised she no longer needed to step out of her comfort zone and take charge. That new freedom allowed her to give up control and stop caring about things so much.

"This guy," she nudged Olly in the ribs, "is making me try different things now, and shut up," she warned Jonny who was about to say something, "I don't mean dick, you dick." They all laughed.

"She's still her savage self though," Olly cut-in, "can't get rid of that."

"You wouldn't be able to," Izzy smirked.

That was also true. Despite how strict and dominating Olly now was with her, to the point their friends would be horrified, Izzy found her fiery, funny personality coming out a lot easier. She'd rediscovered it at work, where she was a lot more sociable, even laughing at how clueless the IT guys were, and she was able to tease Olly before he put her in line.

Eventually the sun had set, and it got too cold to stay outside, so they moved into the pub, with some of the group calling it a day by that point, given they'd heard enough.

They were normally one of the last two to stay at drinks like that, with Izzy staying because Olly would stay, but they left earlier than normal that evening too.

Olly had been running his hand gently along Izzy's bare thigh for most of the last hour and her hand was resting on his cock under the table. She hadn't been so public with her displays since her early twenties, but Izzy knew they were destined to go a lot further in time. When they finally said their goodbyes to the few remaining, Olly shamelessly held Izzy's ass on the way out. Whether their friends saw, they had no idea. That was the point and the fun.

***

Izzy waited for Olly's apartment door to close before she spoke. She was standing just a few feet into the corridor. The house was in darkness.

"Are you pleased with me?"

In response, Olly pulled her ponytail hard, forcing Izzy's head to turn up and her mouth to let out a weak gasp. He pushed her hard against the wall, flicking on the light as he did so, just in time for her to watch her breasts smashing against the brick, her head having been held back and away from the blow because of the pull on her hair.

Izzy moaned in need and submission, while Olly's other hand held onto her lower back. "Hands on the wall," he growled.

Izzy's hands shot out, placing her palms on the wall. At that, Olly proceeded to pull her backwards by her hair, bending her that way but keeping her propped up with his hand on her back.

It was an obscene sight to see her bent over backwards and stretched out in the way she was.

Izzy's palms barely stayed on the wall by the time he was done. He released his hold on her hair but kept his other big hand on her lower back. Izzy knew not to move. That was something that had required no training at all - she'd been obedient to Olly from the start.

His free hand probed into her dress, caressing her breast and nipple. "I fucking love your breasts," he breathed.

Izzy groaned in relief and joy over that. She wasn't his type on paper, or so she had thought, but she knew he had never lusted over anyone so much. She could see the difference in him, how he was so unrestrained with desire.

Even in public, even that evening, she could see in his eyes that he wanted her bad. He had this primal, hungry look, which kept her soaking wet and aroused. The hairs on her arms stood up whenever they locked eyes and her pulse would rise, with her desperate to be on her knees.

She was so stretched out against the wall that he was able to put his head into the gap and suck her nipple. Izzy cooed and moaned as the bite became harder.

"Your nipples are incredible," he added as he pulled away. "I love seeing them pushing against your dress without a bra."

"I'm glad you like them," Izzy moaned. "They like you too."

Olly took hold of Izzy's ponytail again and this time pulled her away from the wall. He unzipped her and she helped take her floral print mini dress off.

It wasn't a new dress - it had been in her closet for months - but the short cream dress with plunging chest and lack of bra, plus the heels, had sent a message to the group about the sexual dynamic between them.

It could be that they thought Izzy wanted to look sexy and desirable for Olly and that much was true, but the honest message, that maybe they'd come to understand in time, was that her look belonged to him.

She stepped out of the dress with her heels still on and then her white lace thong followed. Izzy was 5'7 but was still 7 inches shorter than Olly. She was wearing heels a lot more than she had before and that was making her appearance even more striking.

He walked her to his sofa, him still clothed while she was naked, just in her stilettos.

Izzy's ankles had grown a lot stronger, and she could walk in heels for longer, even the thinner heels or the barely-there straps that she was wearing. Olly was so demanding of her that she fought through the uncomfortableness to satisfy him.

"I'm very pleased, in answer to your question," he responded, as he walked off to the kitchen area and left her there.

They both preferred modern, open plan kitchen/living spaces, it was one of the many things they had in common. In a weird similarity, they both had a near-identical approach to cupboard storage and so when he opened the cupboard by the refrigerator, she knew he was getting a tumbler out and because she knew him so well, she knew he was pouring her a glass of water to drink.

She took it from him in thanks while he drunk some of his own. Izzy had a terrible habit of forgetting to hydrate and now Olly was in charge, that habit was being corrected.

It also had other benefits. A properly hydrated mouth was a lot better for sucking cock. And Izzy had been doing a lot of that.

Olly sat beside her and held Izzy as they unwound after the drinks. They both felt the intensity of the evening; they knew they'd be centre stage after telling their friends that morning.

Everyone was shocked and delighted and suddenly people who weren't going to turn up had a free evening with a babysitter suddenly available. They'd booked a table at the riverside pub in the centre of London that most of their friends could get to with relative ease despite the way many of them had moved further out as marriage and kids had started to become a fixture of their thinking. Izzy had found the place years ago, unsurprisingly, and it felt right to meet there, even though they knew they'd be centre of attention.

Both of them were introverts, so they needed a moment.

"No regrets?" Olly broke the silence.

"I told you my one regret," Izzy grinned.

"Aside from that? Because it's real now."

"It was real yesterday when we told our families," Izzy countered. "My only regret was fighting this and dragging Laura into it. Because these last few weeks have transformed me."

Living the life that the wedding weekend had hinted was possible, could have gone terribly. They may both have decided it wasn't for them.

The first week had been tough.

Izzy didn't know how to process how radically her mind had changed. She had stopped being able to communicate properly and as such, Olly had dropped the intensity to give her space and time.

Izzy had pulled them through it by somehow drawing together all of her incoherent thoughts into a message that had basically said: don't tone it down, turn it up. Persist with me.

"Keep me permanently beneath you, serving you," had been her plea. "Make everything about you."

She had realised during the Eurovision night that she absolutely needed someone to focus on and gravitate around. When she didn't have that, her mind drifted and lost focus and over-compensated. None of her exes were demanding and to be honest with herself, she knew that a woman never could be what she needed.

Olly had become that person for her over the years, and the intimacy had been the missing part. Now Izzy need that dynamic to be explicit.

She needed it all-consuming, rough, brutal even. Which was why Olly had been so rough the second they had got home. Izzy needed him to be assertive and harsh with her, it's how she was able to switch off and be.

To put her mind back into serving him and being his.

Those countless nights where she felt empty and like something was missing. How she hunted for it in reckless decisions or a relentless desire to improve her looks and her appearance, for something to focus on.

After that first week, those feelings of emptiness went away. She was constantly horny, but that was almost a by-product to the constant smile and happiness that became her life. Even when Olly choked her or slapped her, she felt good. It felt right, and it reinforced a message that she was there for him.

Like some kind of definition of her very existence had been found.

Olly understood her plea and the underpinning need perfectly. He started to keep his assertiveness turned up, she could stay beneath him and still be herself. She could gravitate around him and serve him in that way that felt so natural but also be able to talk and be his friend and girlfriend. It had taken the first couple of weeks to properly work through, and they were still working on it, but the signs were there.

He held out his arm and encouraged her to cuddle into him, which she did happily. Izzy was completely naked, Olly fully clothed. He turned on the tv, kissed her on her forehead, and then slowly ran his hand over her bare arm, soothing both of them.

They watched tv and unwound, which Izzy knew was more for Olly's benefit. He was a sociable, personable man and he had a lot of friends, but she suspected part of him would like a secluded life. Izzy knew that their new relationship had had a dramatic effect on him too, even if it was less obvious.

He was calmer, yet more focused. He had become more direct, less laid-back, especially with her. He was more intense with her and more openly assertive. Before they had got together, Izzy always knew Olly had it in him to be more forceful and directive. Perhaps that was why she gravitated towards him as she did. Why she had developed an unconscious need to sooth and please him.

Maybe that was what their partners had always picked up on: his ability to control, her desire to obey. Even if they couldn't comprehend what it was.

There was one time where he had punched a guy who had groped one of their friends on the dance floor. Just found the guy, knocked him down with one punch and then glared at his friends. He had apologised, had felt guilt for weeks at losing control like that. It was similar when he'd lost his shit with her over the affair. Izzy gravitated towards that power and wanted to satisfy it.

There was this subtle behaviour shift that Izzy now detected. He was less apologetic at letting that side out. Izzy was giving him a route to channel his intensity. Not the aggression, but the intensity that he always had to keep in check.

In contrast to the intensity that Izzy was now so experienced with, they settled down to watch the travel show Olly had found in a relaxed, chilled headspace. It was one of Olly's favourite shows - he was obsessed with travelling shows and a lot of the cooking programmes that made her zone out most of the time.

His hands on her skin stopped her from doing that though. Even if it was just her arm, it still gave her goosebumps. As the show went on, his fingers moved to her chest, turning her on so much that Izzy had to adjust her position not to drip her arousal onto the fabric of the sofa.

By the time Olly made it to her breast and nipple, she was fidgeting and breathing in shallow breaths. He kept that up until the end of the episode, having touched her gently for the best part of an hour, zoning out as he watched the show. His ownership of her was profound. Olly knew now that he had her; he didn't need to try and convince her it would happen. She knew she belonged to him, and it was freeing to no longer fight it.

During the second episode, his hand trickled slowly down her body and Izzy shamelessly shuffled up so that it would get there quicker. Olly chuckled and let her - he may not have on a different day, but she had been so good with how she had behaved that afternoon.

When his fingers found her pussy, it was gushing. For Izzy, the relationship with Olly wasn't just about giving up control, it was about being seen, being held and held up.

Her original definition of that last term may have been the physical act, like how he dominated her just by a hold on her hair. But it went so much deeper. It was about being made accountable, being held to standards and being championed. Giving her the right things to focus on and expectations to meet.

Everything aroused her now, whatever he did, she obeyed and complied. Obeying, serving, it nourished her mind and did something to her being. She may have been aroused from those acts, but it was more than that. Her hole became wet because it wanted to serve him in a primal way.

Olly was wrapped into her mind now, with every thought Izzy had now factoring him more explicitly in. His wants, his needs, his expectations.

He lightly rubbed her lips, spreading the juices around. Izzy loudly reacted to it. An obscene moan she wouldn't have made before Olly. Couldn't have made before Olly. He caressed her like that for a few minutes, toying with her as she whined and whimpered.

She was still laying on his chest, held in place, her legs spread open, even as she lay on her side. Izzy was trying to stay still, to stay moderately composed, but it felt impossible. Olly's hands, as big as they were, were deceptively good at teasing her.

Her hand moved to grip his strong thigh, Izzy using it for some kind of support to get her through the teasing. She could feel his warmth through the jeans. He always ran hot. She wanted nothing more than to take his jeans off and run her tongue over his warm skin, like she had so many times already.

Izzy felt him draw his middle and index finger together and start to press into her hole. She moaned and spread her legs wider as he pushed into her tight folds. She watched perversely as his digits disappeared and then whimpered as he brought his ring finger closer and pushed that in too.

She was soaked but her hole always resisted penetration. It was one of the beautiful contrasts because she now knew her body was made to be fucked, no matter the protest.

Izzy was constantly sore from being with Olly. An ongoing reminder of the change of her existence. He had her holes whenever he wanted. He was even starting to take her ass, which was not a concept that had come into her thought process with women. There was simply no need to be fucked in the ass with a plastic cock, it would please neither her nor her partner.

He was mercifully gentle with her ass, recognising how new it was for her and taking care of her. Even when he knew she could handle it harder, he kept under control and upped the intensity by other means. Be it by restraining her to the four corners of the bed or by fucking her ass and holding her face down with his foot.

He wasn't as lenient with her pussy. Her pretty hole, that so often had women wild with lust as soon as they saw her lips and clit, looked abused. Swollen, lips inflamed to twice their previous size, a hole always full of cum. The abuse of her pussy created some kind of feedback loop where the sorer she felt, the more she wanted to please Olly. It was quite the opposite of fear; it was reverence that he could claim her so thoroughly.

Her breasts were similarly sore, her nipples sensitive to touch, her ass cheeks never went long without being mauled or spanked, her muscles hurt. He had understood her message and how she needed it. On delivering that, she became deeply submissive to him.

Only as she adjusted to that, did she start to find her voice again and start to feel herself. She couldn't explain it but the physical actions and the intensity of them, after a period of adjustment for her own mind to process it, felt... normal. Natural, even.

Olly had, for some years, been the most important person in her life.

As their friendship had started to grow and he had become her best friend, almost all of her decisions gravitated around him and her perception of his views.

Did he approve of the woman she was dating? Was her dress appropriate enough for him? Did she look good enough to be out with him? Was he happy with her cooking? Was he happy with what she'd planned? Could she do anything for him?

Izzy hadn't even consciously thought a lot of that stuff. It just... was that way. It's not that she didn't care for the opinions of others but if her friends really enjoyed a party she had put on and Olly didn't, it would hurt.

Their exes had picked up on it, she could see that now. Maybe they hadn't understood what they were sensing or hadn't else dared voice it, but seemingly only Izzy & Olly hadn't seen that every single decision was with him in mind.

Alongside that, he had always preferred her to do things for him over anyone else. She knew him best. She recalled examples of ex-girlfriends planning activities and him always wanting Izzy to check to make sure he'd be happy with it. They had both told themselves it was because they were friends, but it was so much more than that.

He had been the most important person in her life without her acknowledging it, but now it was clear and obvious to her. Now with the addition of the physical, everything about her was for him. The sexual elements were just an additional to what they already were. What was most freeing was that she could just openly be at his service now.

Olly unbuckled behind her and unzipped with just the one free hand. She could have helped but her eyes were on him working a fourth finger into her hole.

Her pussy stretched and widened to accommodate the invasion, making her eyes water and her breathing hitch.

"Umpfff," she moaned into his thigh as all four fingers went in.

"Take it," he demanded.

Izzy stretched back and pulled her cheeks apart to try and help.

He worked all four fingers in properly, slipping in through her wetness. The pain was incredible. It peaked her arousal.

Olly pulled her hair and pulled her up, rising with her in sync. One hand had a hold in her hair, the other had four fingers insider her pussy. For one wild moment, Olly pictured doing this to anyone else, but it seemed laughable. Almost as laughable as the proper, modest best friend of his, being the one he was doing it to.

He walked her slowly to the bedroom, keeping her body so close to his that she almost stumbled in her heels. When they got to the doorway of the lounge. He pushed her against the wall and pulled his fingers out. Izzy loudly groaned.

Before she could do much else, Olly shoved his monster cock straight into her loose hole. Izzy screamed out and banged her hand against the wall to process the invasion of cock.

Olly wrapped his arm around her chest and somehow hoisted her up with her back against his chest. She moaned and wrapped her legs behind him awkwardly. Olly managed to pull down his jeans and boxers with his free hand and then kick them off, one leg at a time, while still holding her up. It was an incredible show of poise and power that turned Izzy on further.

She was 5'7 and often taller than any of her girlfriends. She was fit and often stronger than them too and hence she had never been physically manhandled in her life. Olly made her feel like a plaything, something that he had complete physical control of.

He kissed her neck, kissed behind her ear, as he started to walk down his hallway. Izzy moaned and reached behind her with her free hand, wrapping it behind his head and pulling him deeper into her neck. He pulled away and turned into his bedroom, which had become their bedroom, as had the room in her apartment, because they were never apart now and split their time between both homes.

Olly held her up, kept her facing the bed, watching it and knowing he was soon going to fuck her. Only at that point did she realise her pussy had been dripping around Olly's cock, covering it with her juices.

"What are your holes for?" Olly growled. He asked her so often, it was almost a mantra.

"You," Izzy stated simply. It used to be 'your cock' but that no longer felt enough. Any kind of penetration, be it his cock, his fingers, his tongue... anything, was him owning her.

Izzy had never stopped to consider the biology of how her body was made to have cock enter it. How her cycle dictated her mood, her ability to reproduce, on the basis of when a man could best impregnate her. It seemed crazy that she hadn't, given how desperate she was for children, but it really was out of sight, out of mind.

Until now. Now it was very much her present and her future.

He pushed her down onto the bed, front-first and almost by instinct, Izzy kept her legs wrapped around him from behind. Her heels clicked against the other shoe, and she wrapped her feet around his back to keep him there.

His first thrust was monstrously powerful.

Izzy couldn't imagine many women would be handle how immediately hard he fucked her hole. Her hand grasped the sheet, and her eyes rolled back, as she felt him starting to fuck her.

Her pussy shuddered and almost groaned as the flesh - which had just taken four fingers - spread apart forcefully, Olly's cock unrelenting.

This new mindset adored the way her pussy was ruined and destroyed by Olly. She felt his primal desire to shape her hole to his will, like he had her mind.

Olly gripped her hips and took her without mercy. It was never soft, except perhaps when he fucked her ass, that she was still adjusting to. But her pussy, for reasons that neither of them understood, was made for his cock. It fit like a glove; it was so extraordinarily tight. When he fucked her and forced it open, it was pleasure for the both of them, in different ways.

For Olly, it was the unique pleasure of the wettest, tightest hole he'd ever experienced, gripping him and pleasing every nerve ending of his cock. For Izzy, it was pain turned pleasure, the physicality of the dominance that existed in every part of her life.

What helped was that her biology loved how he took her. He knew part of it was her mind and the psychology of what was happening, but she was always soaked, to extraordinary amounts. The sheets were always a mess when he was done with her, and Izzy had given up trying to keep them clean, as much of a clean freak as she was.

Olly pounded into her, his thick cock noticeably pulling and stretching her lips, the wet, slapping sounds puncturing the air.

"AH GOD!"

"UMMFF!"

"PLEASE GOD!"

Izzy's moaning switched between incoherency and desperation as he took her relentlessly.

Olly's hold on her hips, the way he squeezed them and used that hold to pull her body onto his cock, drove Izzy crazy.

His cock was on the edge of her cervix, it felt like it was in her womb messing with it, letting it know that his seed would be plastering it soon.

Izzy started to feel the waves of pleasure radiate from her hole throughout her body. Her clit found stimulation from the slapping of Olly's balls onto it, in some perverse display of dominance. She came hard around his cock, screaming into her bed sheets.

Olly pulled her up at a higher angle, changing the direction of his thrust as she came. His cock started to pound up into her hole, hitting one of her most triggering, intense set of nerves.

"FUCKKKKK!"

She cried out, knowing what was going to happen. They'd discovered it last week when she had started cumming and Olly had been doing it frequently ever since.

"I can't, I can't," she begged again, a gasping mess as her orgasm overcame her.

"You can and you will," he insisted.

Izzy whimpered in submission. Pressing her face into the sheets as her hole started to react and vibrate. Olly hit the same spot again and again, pulling her body's reaction out of her, with or without her help.

She cried out as her orgasm peaked, her body now shaking, her pussy contracting violently. Quite suddenly, Olly's cock was forced out of her hole as rivers of clear liquid exploded from it, soaking the sheets and Olly's cock in the process.

Izzy shook violently, trying desperately to ride it out. She banged her hands on the bed as she squirted through her orgasm and then in desperation, reached down and started to rub her clit. The pleasure was too intense, and she needed to get it out. What felt like waves and waves of liquid left her hole as Olly climbed onto the bed between her body.

She kept rubbing her clit as her squirting slowed and as Olly used her juices as lubricant to start to push his huge cock into her ass. He was thoroughly lubed from what was in and out of her pussy, but her hole was so resistant, it took work.

Her orgasm finally tailed off by the time he had fit just the head of his cock in her ass. Just that part alone was as big as a plum and pressing it in need made Izzy groan with what little strength she had left.

He slid in, moaning in pleasure. The sounds of Olly's satisfaction empowered Izzy to take it; it rejuvenated her to the point that she managed to slow and properly relax her body, such that Olly could fully put his monster cock into her ass and start to slowly thrust.

He had told her she was the first woman he had fucked in the ass and in honesty, she could believe it. Any woman before her would have to have really wanted it. It wasn't something that could have been done in half measures. The first few times, as good as it was, she struggled to walk after it.

Even now she was used to it, it was still the most physically demanding sexual experience and that was after Olly had been pounding her pussy. After he had brought her to a squirting orgasm.

Olly was careful with her, especially in her exhausted state, but she could already take more than he could have predicted. As he built up his pace, Izzy's cries became pleas of encouragement.

He fucked her relentlessly, going at her hole as she became a gasping mess, sweating with him too. He was pounding her so hard that it was one of the rare times that Izzy knew she would be able to orgasm from the penetration in her ass alone. It was just so intense.

She knew exactly what he needed, she always did.

He loved to make her cum from his use of her, it always turned him on to see her lose control. She wanted him to see her go to the edge of what she could physically handle, so she wanted to try and squirt for him again, even with him in her ass.

She slid her free hand under her body and started rubbing her clit. The angle was bad and with her free arm, she pushed herself up, carrying all of the weight. Sweat started to pour off her as her energy expended from holding herself up and rubbing frantically.

"Need to cum," she gasped, feeling it. Just a little extra stimulation was enough.

Izzy kept trying to push for the feeling when she squirted and with great difficulty, she put her other hand underneath her, taking their weight on her shoulders, and thrust two fingers deep into her sore, soaking wet pussy and fucked herself as she rubbed her clit.

The double penetration, the exhaustion, the stimulus of her clit, threw her over the edge and took her to another orgasm as Olly pounded her ass.

"Ahhhhh!! FUCK FUCK FUCKKKK!"

And suddenly she was squirting again, her legs shaking violently, her body contracting against her fingers.

"AHHHFFFPPPHHH PLEASE!!!"

The sounds coming from her didn't even sound human. They were primal, the sounds of someone who was experiencing something beyond comprehension.

Olly groaned and growled and pulled at her hair and slapped her. Then she felt him cumming inside her ass, filling her hole so much that it expanded to take it all, her poor hole becoming as ruined as her pussy.

She passed out with him inside her, utterly spent.

_

Olly had picked her up and bathed her once she had come around and become coherent enough. He had her drink a sugary drink alongside water, then he took her to the bathroom, to the bath he was running, and bathed her.

Her holes stung in the warm water and cum leaked out of her ass. She was shaking from exhaustion after the bath. Sex was so intense, yet she couldn't get enough.

Izzy slept until almost 11am the next day, Olly allowing it on account of how exhausted she clearly was.

Still, after she had had a coffee on the sofa beside him, she willingly moved to lay on top of his lap.

"No exceptions, we agreed. I should have been awake to make you breakfast," she looked up pointedly.

If Olly was ever going to go easy on Izzy, she wouldn't let him.

He spanked her hard enough to leave bruises. Not just with her hand but with the coffee table book nearby.

"You're gonna spend the day entirely naked, you're not allowed on furniture except the hard chair at dinner and if you do anything else to piss me off, you'll eat on the floor."

Izzy's pussy throbbed at the warning, and she was tempted to do something else wrong. But she never could; her will to serve Olly was too strong.

Later in the evening, after she had made them dinner and she was sitting on the floor at his feet, she again marvelled at how different her life was. She loved being disciplined for not meeting certain expectations or standards, or generally not being obedient enough.

As she rubbed and kissed Olly's feet from her subservient position, she voiced what was on her mind.

"I wish you hadn't made me choose. I wish you'd taken what was yours from the start."

She looked up at him with a face of emotion as she said it.

"I wish you'd dropped us off here and just started fucking me. Never let me decide. Never even let me take the morning-after pill."

"You'd never have got to this level of comfort if I had," he reminded her gently. "And when we have children, which will be soon, I want it to be because we both want it."

Izzy nodded, satisfied with the logic of his answer.

She thought of the life she knew they would have. Children, a big house, family & friends over every other weekend.

She thought of the relationship they now had. The things she would do for him.

She smiled and kissed his feet, finally content.

***