My Best Friend Annabelle

Chapter 1

"Do you want your birthday present or not?" she asked me again.

"I mean, yeah, of course, but... dude, you didn't need to get me anything," I replied, secretly thrilled she had gotten me something. After all, a guy didn't turn 18 every day, plus as my best friend, Annabelle had a way of knowing exactly what I needed at any given moment.

"I know that, dork face," she replied, shaking her head. "Now, just close your eyes and sit back."

We were sitting on my bed with the door closed, my mom downstairs making birthday dinner in the kitchen. Annabelle had driven us here right after school ended, this being one of those days where neither of us had any after-school club or other commitment. We had said hi to my mom on our way up; after getting to know Annabelle really well over the past two years, my mom trusted us together, never feeling the need to check on what we were up to. Historically that was some form of studying or homework -- though as high school seniors with college applications already sent out our only school-related concerns were the AP Exams at the end of the year -- and Annabelle was always happy to use our time together to rag on the popular jocks and cheerleaders in our class. As a theater kid, Annabelle felt she was too mature for them, while I considered them an entirely different species. But I digress.

"Dougie, close your damn eyes and sit back against the headboard," she repeated, since I hadn't done anything. I gave her a weird look but finally moved myself back, pushing my pillows to the side.

I closed my eyes. "Anna-Banana," I said, utilizing the same snide tone she had just used with me, "if this is where you drop something slimy into my lap just to hear me shriek like a little girl..." I paused, realizing putting ideas in her head for later was itself a terrible idea.

"Fucking idiot," she mumbled under her breath, but with no bite. I heard her slide toward me. "Whatever you do, promise me you won't move, or open your eyes, until I tell you to."

"You know, this is only mildly terrifying," I reminded her, still leaning back with my eyes closed.

"Just... shut up for a minute," she said much more quietly. And then I felt my belt buckle come undone.

My eyes flew open as my breath stopped, but her hand immediately covered them. "I told you not to open your fucking eyes," she reminded me firmly. I didn't know what to say or do so I just sat there frozen, eyes once again shut. While Annabelle and I had been the closest of friends for two years now, we had never, ever crossed this line or even anything close to it before. During that time I had dated other girls, she had dated other guys, and while the gossip mill assumed we were banging like crazy, we had never even kissed.

The button to my jeans was next and then I felt Annabelle press against me gently as my zipper came down. The sides of my jeans were pulled back, my now tented boxer briefs, barely containing my raging hard-on, were on display. She took a deep breath in.

"Hey," I breathed out, "what are you--?"

"Do you want me to stroke you through your boxers, and make you cream them... or not?" Annabelle's voice was sultry, so unlike her I almost wondered if it was someone else. "It's up to you. Just... don't say a word. If you want me to stroke you, then just nod. And if you don't want me to, then just button yourself back up."

I was completely lost. It was possible she was fucking with me, and was smirking at me for falling for it, but with my eyes closed I couldn't tell. Then I felt a single finger stroke down my length from tip to root. "C'mon, Dougie, do you want me to make you cum? Nod or button, your call."

I swallowed and then nodded several times, leaving my hands flat on the bed at my sides.

I felt her hand grip my shaft through the material. I moaned in response and she giggled nervously. "If you don't want your mom to come investigate what's going on in here you may want to keep your noises to a minimum." She moved her hand up and down me tentatively. "You're a really big boy, Dougie."

"Annabelle..." I whispered, "are you sure... oh fuck... about this?"

She squeezed me again, gently moaning herself. "Shut up, dummy, and let me work. You are quite the handful." She returned to stroking me, the briefs rough against my hard cock, while I pushed into her hand as she got into a good rhythm. Nothing existed but the shock of this moment, the feeling of her hand pressed around my brief-covered cock, and the way my balls were already tightening. I spread my legs as much as I could while still in my jeans.

"You're gonna give me a big load, aren't you, Dougie?" Her breath hitched and her hand moved faster. "You're gonna soak these boxer briefs for me, aren't you?"

"Yes... yes... Annabelle... fuck..." I was seconds away.

"Do it, Dougie," she breathed, "cum for me." I exploded into my boxer briefs, quickly throwing a pillow in front of my mouth and biting down to stop myself from screaming in relief. Annabelle's hand tightened over my crown and I felt her twitch every time another rope came out. I continued to spasm even once I stopped cumming, a sticky warmth surrounding me. "You can open your eyes now," she informed me, breathless.

I looked down into my lap. Her small hand was still gripping my tip through my boxer briefs, the large mess spread out wide. I was trying to catch my own breath as I looked up to find Annabelle smiling at me. "You did good, Dougie." Her expression was soft but otherwise unreadable. Slowly she pulled her hand back, coated in my release, then stood up. "I'm going to go wash up and then help your mom with dinner," she said, as nonchalantly as if the mess there had come from touching wet paint instead of from my now slowly softening cock. "Get yourself cleaned up and then come join us."

I stared at her as she opened the door. "Hey, Annab--"

She looked back, stopping me before I could continue to say... what, I had no idea. "Happy birthday, Dougie. I'll see you downstairs." And with that she walked out of my room, closing the door behind her. I stared after her in shock for nearly five minutes before remembering I needed to change my clothes and head down for my birthday dinner.

As we ate, I was reminded that Annabelle was a phenomenal actress. Her nonchalant attitude would not scream to anyone that she had just jacked off her guy best friend upstairs in his room as an 18th birthday present, while I was so out of it that my mom repeatedly had to keep asking me if I was okay. "Just really tired," I explained, which earned a smirk from Annabelle whenever my mom wasn't looking.

After the main meal, they brought an ice cream cake out, and the two of them sang to me, Annabelle's beautiful soprano voice creating an awkward harmony with my mom's not-so-great-but-still-full-of-love effort. Afterward we cleaned off the table, and though I offered to do the dishes, Annabelle insisted on taking care of it since my mom had cooked and it was my birthday. "Go take a load off, Dougie," she quipped, completely deadpan. I blushed bright red but thankfully Mom didn't notice.

Annabelle finally begged off, though my mom told her that she could stay as long as she wanted. "I should get home," Annabelle said, "but thanks, Mrs. Lewis."

"How many times have I asked you to call me Marcy?" my mom replied. Annabelle just smiled as she ran back up to my room to get her backpack, then rejoined us downstairs.

"Thanks again for letting me join tonight, Marcy," Annabelle said, trying it out. "Walk me out, Dougie?" She gave my mom a kiss on the cheek before the two of us stepped out the front door. I closed it behind me quietly as Annabelle headed straight for her car.

"Wait, Annabelle," I said, catching up to her.

She had her door open and her backpack already tossed in the backseat. "Just, don't say anything right now, okay?" she asked without looking back at me.

I stared at her back as my mouth tried to work out a reply. Out of fucking nowhere my previously completely platonic best friend had decided to jack me off for my birthday, and I wasn't even allowed to say or ask her anything about it?! But then I saw her slumped shoulders, and I knew I would let it go... for now. "I just wanted to say... thanks for being here for my birthday, Anna-Banana."

She finally turned around and walked back, throwing her arms around my waist and pressing her cheek against my chest as she pulled me in tight. "You are such a dork face," she sighed, before stepping up to give me a quick kiss on the cheek. "Happy Birthday, Dougie." Seconds later her car was backing out and then heading down the street.

As I went to text Annabelle later I still didn't know what to say, so I just thanked her again for coming over to celebrate my birthday with me. While it wasn't the coolest way to respond to a girl giving me a really good birthday handjob, I was still unsure what the fuck had just happened -- or why -- and so when all I got back was a thumb's up I didn't follow up with anything else.

I barely slept that night, thinking nonstop about Annabelle stroking me through my boxer briefs. About her smile when I looked up after I exploded in her hand. About how she walked out of my room like it was no big deal. About how conflicted she looked standing by her car when the evening was over.

My mom dropped me off at school the next morning on her way to work. I caught up with a couple of the guys I hung out with from the debate club before homeroom, then eventually made my way to class when the early bell rang. After homeroom I headed to AP Chemistry, the first class I had with Annabelle each day. As the class filed in I felt a finger jab me in the ribs. I didn't have to look to know who that was. "Morning, Annabelle," I said dryly, turning back to look at her. I was seeking something in her face but she gave off no signs that anything strange had happened yesterday.

"I really hope we're doing that lab where we drop sodium in a toilet and watch the pipes all blow up," she chipped in, walking with me to our usual lab table.

"Big fan of unexpected explosions, are we?" I goaded her, trying to spark some acknowledgment about what happened.

"You know me, Dougie, sometimes I just like getting my hands dirty," she shot back, not missing a beat.

I shook my head but couldn't counter again as our teacher brought the class to order. To Annabelle's chagrin we would not be blowing up the school pipes today, though we were kept so busy all class I was never allowed a free minute to talk to her. After the bell, we left the room and headed toward English Lit with about half the senior class. I quietly tried to get Annabelle's attention but all she said was, "Talk at lunch, okay?" I just nodded as the conversation meandered around us.

By lunchtime I was chomping at the bit, and after Annabelle and I both grabbed food in the cafeteria we decided to head out to the courtyard rather than meet up with friends at our usual table. Once we found a place to talk privately I wanted to go first but Annabelle steamrolled right through me.

"Look," she began, looking around to make sure we wouldn't be heard, "don't make it weird, okay? I didn't know what to get you for your birthday, and I thought it would be a cool surprise. Plus this way you'll always remember it."

"So just to confirm, you gave me a handjob for my birthday because you couldn't think of anything else, and thought it would be a cheery memory of the day for me?"

"Exactly!" she confirmed, smiling. "Plus it's gonna be so much fun watching you blush anytime someone asks what you did for your birthday!"

I had stopped eating, staring at Annabelle. "I'm glad this will give you loads of entertainment going forward." I gathered up my stuff and started to stand.

She grabbed my wrist. "Please don't make it weird, Dougie."

For the first time ever I shook her off. "Right, because I'm the one who made things weird between us." I didn't look back as I walked away.

Chapter 2

Being in all the same classes as Annabelle meant the afternoon was pure hell. We always sat next to each other, and the ice that had formed between us was palpable to everyone in our small circle. She didn't act any more interested in engaging me than I did her, and even our normally oblivious teachers sensed something amiss. Ignoring everything and everyone, I bolted from our last class of the day before anyone would have a chance to ask about it.

I never usually gave much thought to how I was getting home since Annabelle was my default ride. There was a stop across the street for a bus line that ran near my house, and I began to walk toward it. I had nearly crossed the whole parking lot when a car pulled up beside me. The rough engine sound tagged it as Annabelle's clunker without me having to look over at her. "The bus sucks," she said to me through the passenger window, "let me drive you home." I ignored her and kept walking.

She rolled forward. "Dougie, please don't make me--"

"Make you what?" I finally turned to her.

"Make me get out and in front of the entire school beg my best friend to let me drive him home. I'll do it if I have to, but please don't make me."

Every part of me wanted to turn away, but I could hear the misery in her voice. I reached for the passenger door and slid myself into the car. She started up again and we were quiet for a few minutes until she turned onto a side street about five minutes from my house, pulled up to the curb, and killed the engine.

"It wasn't like it was your first handjob," she began, and I threw my head back with a groan. "Allison Tavares told all the girls in sophomore PE that she had trouble getting her hand around your whole dick. And we both know you're not a virgin. So, why is this a big deal?" She paused. "It's not like I actually touched it skin-to-skin or anything."

I opened my door fast and was nearly out of it when she grabbed my hand. "Please..." her voice broke, "I just wanted to make you happy on your birthday. You only have one 18th birthday, and this way you'd always remember... that it was me who made you happy."

I looked back at Annabelle in the driver's seat. She was rubbing her hands together, looking small. I wanted to be angry because while, yeah, it had been a great handjob, all she kept saying after was that it was no big deal to her. The fact she couldn't meet my eyes now told me a different story, though.

"What do you want me to say now, Annabelle? Why do you keep wanting to make sure I know it wasn't a big deal to you?" She refused to speak though and wouldn't meet my eyes. I opened the door again.

"No, please!" she called out. "It was a big deal. I mean, your dick is a really, really big deal. Like..." and she moved her hands an exaggerated amount apart. "And I might have finally gotten to sleep last night by jilling myself off thinking about it... and how amazing you looked when you came in my hand."

"What the fuck?" I was at my wits' end, and at this point didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

"I'm glad I did it, and I'm glad you liked it, and it meant something to me, too," she continued. "But it shouldn't mean more to me than our friendship, right? I mean, do you want it to mean more?"

I took a breath. I hadn't really thought about it before -- about if I would have wanted more with Annabelle. Which in the end didn't matter as she rolled on. "Because I... I don't. Might FWB be fun? Maybe, right? But you're my best friend and I won't give that up for anything. And if one handjob has screwed with our friendship this much then I don't even want to imagine what would happen if you bent me over your bed and railed me from behind."

Except I'm pretty sure that was exactly what we were both now imagining. In detail.

"Well, that's an incredibly specific scenario you just threw out there, Anna-Banana." I put my head in my hands, groaning loudly, before I finally just lost it.

I didn't mean to laugh, I swear. I didn't mean to take this incredibly emotional moment between us and totally lose my shit. But that's exactly what I did. And seconds later, I wasn't the only one. While Annabelle's laugh started out as an involuntary chuckle, within a minute she was laughing so hard she had to hold the steering wheel for support. I sat back and tried gulping in air, looking up toward her car ceiling when I felt her vault out of her seat and land in my lap, sitting sideways as she wrapped her arms around my neck in the tightest hug she'd ever given me. "Tell me we're okay, Dougie, please?"

I was still shaking slightly as my laughter finally ran its course. "We're okay, Banana. I think we're gonna be okay."

"Good," she said, snuggling in. And then she moved her butt in my lap. "You know, this thing really is big."

"Omigod, Annabelle, really?"

"Too soon?"

Chapter 3

As the weeks rolled on we fell back into our regular routine, though every once in a while Annabelle would throw out a line about her preference for 'extra large sausage' followed by a quick wink at me. Besides the occasional entendre and innuendo like that, we never specifically alluded to The Birthday Incident.

However, without either of us saying anything, something in the way we hung out together had begun to change. Whereas previously we would study with one of us sitting on the bed and the other at the desk, now we both sat on the bed, perpendicular to each other so our legs made a plus sign. Dumb jokes that would previously have earned a simple head shake now resulted in gentle pinches instead, often directly to skin. When we watched something we took turns being the one who sat up with the other person's head in their lap, while the one sitting gently stroked their fingers along the arm of the one lying down.

In short, we were teasing the shit out of each other.

Things finally came to a head one day in Contemporary World History. Our teacher had put on a documentary on MacArthur's campaign in the Pacific during World War II. Give second semester seniors a documentary to watch with the lights off... and all sorts of bad stuff can happen.

We were 20 minutes into the period, and Annabelle and I had spent the majority of that time poking each other in the ribs as we sat next to each other in the Siberian wilderness of the back row of the class. She had gotten me good the last time and was prepared for my retribution with her elbows tucked tight against her side. I faked toward her ribcage before reaching under her desk quickly and squeezing her thigh through her jeans.

Which would have been fine, except that it was a warm day in March, and I'd forgotten that Annabelle wasn't wearing jeans; she was wearing a short skirt. When my fingers touched her bare skin -- and squeezed gently -- Annabelle gasped out loud. I quickly faced forward again as we both threw on our best staring-straight-ahead-at-the-riveting-documentary faces when the entire class turned back to look at us. We quickly joined them in their search, turning around to look at the empty space behind us as if also wondering from wherever that loud female gasp may have arisen.

Once our classmates returned to whatever else they were doing I could feel Annabelle staring at the side of my face. I pretended not to notice her as I slowly moved my hand back toward her lap, finally bringing it to rest on the top of her thigh halfway between her knee and her waist. I was still looking forward intently as though Douglas MacArthur was the greatest rock star on Earth... and then I slowly moved my hand down toward the inside of her thigh, just resting it there.

I probably would have just let go if I hadn't felt Annabelle's muscles tense up under my hand, her breath held a little too long, her lip gently pulled back between her teeth. In my periphery I could see her eyes go big, but not in annoyance. She was looking at me... in challenge.

I began to slowly stroke the inside of her thigh, letting my fingers move from halfway to her knee to disappear under her skirt as I got closer to her center. She picked up her left hand and put it in front of her mouth so no one could see her mouth form a silent moan every time I gently scraped my nails along her skin as I moved back to my starting point. After a minute or so of this I found my pinky nearly at the crease where her thigh met her hip... and whether or not she realized it, she spread her legs in anticipation.

I smirked as I began to escalate our game. I reached over a little further and moved from one crease to the other, completely bypassing the bottom of her panties as I did. I could see her squirming as I explored her inner thighs, though thankfully not enough to draw attention. I turned my wrist so my hand was facing out, bringing it toward her, my thumb and pinky scraping along the two sides, until the back of my hand unexpectedly connected with her soaked panties directly over her pussy.

As much fun as I was having tormenting Annabelle, I really had not planned to touch her so intimately, especially not in the middle of a class, albeit one where the lights were off and everyone was absorbed in their own thing while a loud video played at the other end of the room. Still I didn't want to cross a line, and once I felt her grab my wrist I knew I probably had done so. That was, until she turned my forearm so now my palm was aimed toward her, then pulled it back so without warning I was firmly cupping her pussy over her panties.

I kept my hand where it was, my breath caught as I turned to her. She was biting her lip nearly hard enough to draw blood, her forehead lightly dusted with perspiration. She looked me dead in the eye and mouthed one word: 'Please.'

I nodded back at her and began to flex my fingers. Her panties had become a sponge and were drenched. I used my index and middle fingers to stroke up and down her cloth-covered slit as fast as I could without moving my upper arm. After a moment I felt her fingers near mine, hers pulling her panties out of the way, and suddenly my fingers were exploring my best friend's pussy directly and with nothing in the way. She firmly moved my fingers where she wanted me, then went back to biting one hand and bracing herself with the other as I began to circle her clit in earnest. I stared straight ahead, prayed that no one turned around, and found myself horribly and inappropriately grateful that WWII had lasted as long as it had so that this documentary still had a few minutes to go. The angle was bad for me to curl my fingers inside her, though I did get my middle one in knuckle-deep as I left my thumb to work her clit. The inside of her cunt was scalding hot... and I loved it.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Annabelle nod multiple times, then turn to me, dropping her hand so she could mouth, 'Don't fucking stop,' before her other hand squeezed mine tightly against her pussy and her whole body clenched. I remained pressed against her as she came silently while trying to draw as little attention as possible to herself.

Once she began to relax I slowly pulled my hand away as she reassembled her clothes. She was staring at me and I was smirking back, my eyebrows raised. "Bad boy," she breathed at me, and I chuckled quietly. Using one hand to block anyone else's view I took the fingers that had been at her pussy and slowly put them into my mouth, sucking them clean. Her jaw dropped. If I had expected my best friend to taste anything but delicious I would have been proven severely wrong. She was both sweet and tangy, and when I smiled afterwards I could still see her thighs shaking.

Shortly after that, the Allies won World War II and the lights came back in. I too felt victorious, and though I was hard as a rock (my shirt covering that fact under my desk, at least for the most part) I didn't mind the blue balls I'd feel later in return for having made Annabelle lose control so completely like that in the middle of history class.

I turned to her. "Well, that was really informative," I managed with a straight face.

She was smiling right back at me, her face glowing from her orgasm. "Oh, it is so on now," she hissed.

Chapter 4

From that point on, our after-school study sessions became episodes of the newest hit teenage game show, How to Get Your Best Friend Off Using Only Your Hand!!

Annabelle's favorite version of this game involved her sitting between my legs on my bed as we studied, her back pressed mostly against my chest. She would use one hand to squeeze and stroke my hard cock through my shorts until she could actually feel me explode, which I had to do quietly for fear of alerting my mom. Once that was accomplished Annabelle would return to quizzing me on whatever topic we had not really been studying while it was going on.

On the other hand, my favorite version involved Annabelle quickly surrendering her panties as soon as we got to my room so I had full access to her pussy under her skirt. I learned that when she let herself go, my best friend was a squirter. I also learned that she shaved herself down to a landing strip, though that was something I deduced from touch only.

Somehow we had both crossed one line and drawn another line at the same time. We got each other off constantly -- though teasing the other to the point of near madness had also become a fun pastime -- but besides her panties coming off, all our other clothes stayed on. Annabelle still hadn't touched my dick skin-to-skin, which led to me nightly applying lotion on my chafed skin, not that I was complaining to her about it. Also, I hadn't attempted to cop a feel, even through her shirt. And we still had never kissed.

It was like we were playing a very weird version of baseball where we started at third... and didn't move to any other base.

The Monday of Spring Break found us hanging out alone at Annabelle's house. Both her parents were at work and their pool was finally warm enough to have been refilled for the season. In my mind I knew abstractly that this would be the first time we'd be together in anything less than our everyday school clothing since this new version of us had gotten started, but when she answered the door I realized my abstract vision was lame as shit.

Annabelle was never model thin, but she had a good body that was soft in all the right places. Two of those places were staring me in the face as she stood in a dark blue low-cut bikini with a mesh cover up that hid absolutely nothing. I found myself speechless on her front porch, but not for long.

"Holy shit, Anna-Banana, you have tits," I remarked, staring at them as though preparing for an exam.

"Omigod, Dougie, you are such a dork. Just get in here." She stepped back so I could enter, smirking as I passed her by.

"No seriously, you usually wear these one-piece things that kind of hide them away."

"Dougie, so help me, if you keep talking about my tits, I'm gonna punch you in the dick."

"But you seem to like my dick. Punching me there seems self-defeating."

"I fucking love your dick, but if you don't shut up about my tits, I will put you on the injured list in a heartbeat."

I held up my hands in surrender, then headed to the powder room to change as Annabelle went to grab us towels. A couple minutes later we were testing out the pool. It was still cool though swimmable. Annabelle pulled her cover-up off before jumping in the deep end. I pulled off my t-shirt and followed her in.

We swam around for a bit, laughing about stupid shit from school and lamenting the reality of this being our last Spring Break in high school. I was leaning back on the wall in the shallow end when she swam up, pressing her back against my front. The strap of her bikini top lay across my chest while her bottoms were pressed firmly against my trunks. I let my hands grip the sides of her rib cage, my fingers stroking her skin as she lay her head back against my shoulder with a sigh. I moved my thumbs up until they were stroking the sides of her breasts through her top. I kept waiting for Annabelle to give me a sign -- either stop or go harder -- but she just let me advance to second base at my own speed. After a minute both my hands were firmly caressing her bikini-covered tits from below, and Annabelle was moaning gently as I did.

"Oh, we found something else you're very good at, Dougie," she sighed into my ear.

I smiled. "Well I am hoping to get a lot of opportunities to practice this particular skill." I squeezed her tits harder.

"Fuck I'd love that, but I need a favor from you first."

"And what's that?"

"I need you to give me your trunks."

I stopped what I was doing, looking at her like she was nuts. "Wait, what?"

"I need you to take off your trunks and then hand them to me. Please."

"And why do you need me to do that?"

"Because I really want you naked in my pool, but I can't strip you. I need it to be your choice when you do it."

I swallowed nervously. She was serious. Sure we'd messed around, and gotten each other off, but that was in private in one of our bedrooms and everybody stayed covered. Being naked in her pool? Even with the privacy fence they had around the space I knew how exposed I would feel. Plus, Annabelle would see me naked. Every inch on display. However she felt about what was going on with us... I wouldn't be able to hide anything. I knew she liked my dick, but this wasn't just my dick hanging out. This was me without a scrap of covering. Middle of the day. Just me and Annabelle.

She pushed away and turned to face me. Then she reached behind her back and unhooked her top, pulling it down her arms and tossing it to the side. And suddenly my best friend was standing completely topless in the shallow end of her pool.

"Holy fuck," I said instinctively, my eyes glued to her bare tits. They were... large. I mean, empirically I knew that they would be on the larger side from seeing her in shirts for years, bathing suits and the like. But I had never appreciated just how large they would be when unencumbered by covering. They were pale but perfect. Her nipples were pink and puckered, her areolae wide. I just kept staring, my breath stopped. I was rendered mute.

She crossed her arms in front of her, her hands cradling her chest while covering her nipples. "Well? Can you say something?"

"You're spectacular. I mean... you're fucking spectacular." I tried looking at her face but was drawn back down when she uncovered her tits again. "I know you said you'd punch me in the dick if I talked about your tits again, but... they're fucking perfect, Annabelle." I took a step forward. "Can I...?"

She nodded her head and stepped toward me as well. As my fingers came in contact with her skin, she shivered, then reached forward and palmed my hard cock through my trunks. I began to stroke her breasts in earnest, leaning forward to kiss one nipple as I gently pinched the other. As I did I felt her hand at my waistband. "Take these off for me, Dougie, please?"

My previous nervousness had been lost somewhere around her tits, and in ten seconds my trunks were off and in my hands, my bare hard cock pointing straight up at her from under the water. Annabelle took the trunks from my hand, then placed them and her top safely on the side of the pool.

She glided topless back to me, while I waited for her naked. In seconds she was in my arms and my bare cock was finally in her hand. My hands were full of her big tits as she squeezed me, taking a moment to bring her other hand down as well so she could get a better grip.

"Your huge cock..." she moaned. "I knew it, I knew it, I knew it."

"Annabelle..." My hands were getting clumsy, I was so turned on from her just holding me. And then she began to stroke me with both hands.

She guided me back against the wall, the diamond brite surface feeling strange against my bare ass. I kept squeezing her tits, and eventually I started moving a hand down toward her bottoms, until she stopped me. "No, Dougie," she moaned, "you can get me after. But right now you need to let me jack you off naked in my pool. And you need to promise me you'll stay naked, at least for a little bit, after you're done." I was so overwhelmed I couldn't talk, which Annabelle took as rejection. "Dougie, please, I'm begging you, let me make you cum now." She sounded almost desperate. "Your beautiful bare cock in my hands. Please?"

I was leaning into her, my breath nearly gone. "Anything for you..."

Annabelle kissed my jaw as she started stroking me in earnest. "That's my boy," she sighed into my ear. She pressed her bare tits against my chest as she stroked me fast from root to tip. One hand let go so she could reach under and cup my balls. I groaned into her ear as I felt her exploring them enthusiastically, her breath constantly hitching the whole time. "Oh fuck, they're big too. You're such a big boy, Dougie. I knew it. I mean I felt it through your jeans, but in my dreams... you're always like this. Naked and huge."

She stroked me hard with one hand, twisting and massaging the crown as she went, the other hand working my balls as if to squeeze the cum from them directly. And it was working. I felt it coming on like a freight train. "Annabelle --"

"That's right, Dougie. Cum for your Annabelle."

"Oh FUCK!!!" I yelled out as the biggest orgasm of my young life exploded out of me. She quickly angled me down and moved herself against me so my spasming cock lay along the bottom of her bikini. Her hands were now on my back as I began sliding her covered slit along my bare length while I came between her legs. The shift in position provided additional stimulation to my oversensitive member... and I wasn't the only one.

I felt Annabelle's nails dig sharply into my shoulder as I finished... and she started. "Fuck... baby... Dougie... baby... fuck fuck FUCK FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!" she screamed in my ear, her body clenching against me and then releasing as her head shook back and forth. We were holding each other up as we both finished coming down.

"Thank goodness... for privacy fences," I said, my breath still coming up short.

She kissed my jaw again, panting herself. "And thank fuck... for big dicks."

Chapter 5

For the next few days we held unofficial pool parties, inviting over groups of Annabelle's theater friends and the guys I knew from the debate and ultimate frisbee teams. While everyone was used to seeing us physically together, no one commented on how touchy-feely the two of us had suddenly become. But the question was clearly in the air.

On Thursday, Annabelle and I were lying on a single chaise, tangled up in each other, when someone commented that we were out of ice by the pool. I felt a small hand attacking my bare torso, one poking finger at a time. "Dougie... ice... go," Annabelle muttered into my chest.

I wrapped my arms around her tighter. "Comfy... not moving... your house," I muttered back.

Finally Annabelle gave up, working her way out of my embrace and standing up in her one-piece. "Ugh, fine, I'll go, because apparently my boyfr --" She froze, putting her hand in front of her mouth as if to stop the rest of the word. Two dozen pairs of eyes turned to her, mine included. Annabelle achieved a full-body blush, clearly silently praying for time to turn back just 30 seconds. "Stupid ice," she spit out. She looked back toward me, my face just as curious as everyone else's regarding what she was about to announce. She closed her eyes quickly, threw out a half-hearted, "Shut up, everybody," and headed straight back inside. After a couple minutes I followed her in, incurring all the whistles and catcalls one would expect at that moment.

I found her alone in the kitchen, leaning back against the counter, her head in her hands. By now we didn't need to see the other to know when one of us was approaching, so she wasn't surprised when I stepped up and gently cupped her elbows in my hands. "So, how's it going?" I asked cheerfully, enjoying her embarrassment just a wee bit.

"Omigod, shut up," she groaned. "If I didn't like your balls so much I would be punching them right now."

I laughed. "You make that threat a lot, but so far, no punching."

"Yeah, well next time they're in my hand I'm gonna squeeze them really good."

"Can't wait."

Annabelle finally dropped her hands, a look I could only describe as joyful frustration written all over her face. "I can't believe I just called you--" She paused. "I mean, I know you're not my--" Paused again. "I mean, we're not--"

I couldn't help but shake my head as she failed yet again to say anything coherent. I kept rubbing my hands up and down her upper arms. "You know one of my favorite things about you is your mastery of the English language."

Her hand moved forward until it hovered only a couple inches in front of my groin. "It would be so easy to squeeze them hard right now just to shut you up."

I laughed again. "Is that any way to treat your boyfriend's private parts?"

She looked up at me, taking a deep breath. "You really are my boyfriend now, aren't you?" she asked, disbelievingly.

"Why, yes, I believe I am."

"Holy fuck... and I'm your girlfriend." She paused, testing it out. "So, now what?"

I smiled like any teenage boy seeing the potential for getting some action as I tilted my head toward the stairs. "Well, it is your house, after all. Maybe you and your boyfriend should..."

She bit her lip, moving her hand forward until she was gently squeezing me through my trunks, slowly fondling me where I stood. I closed my eyes and moaned. I could hear the mischief in her voice when she said, "Yeah, I could go for that."

None of our friends seemed even mildly surprised when there was a 20-minute delay in getting the ice refilled.

The next day we decided to keep the house to ourselves. My mom dropped me off, though she did come in for a moment to say hi to Annabelle's parents, neither of whom had left for work yet. She gave Annabelle a hug, tousled my hair, and then headed off to her job. I'd become close with Annabelle's parents over the past two years. I wasn't sure how much they were aware of how things had changed between us over the past couple months, since we'd always been glued together, just now with a lot more orgasms.

Annabelle and I stood innocently leaning against their breakfast bar, both in t-shirts and shorts. That her shorts were cutoffs that hugged her ass nicely and were so short that the pockets hung out the bottom was not something I would admit to having been internally drooling about even if her mom hadn't been looking at us in that all-knowing way moms had. "Behave, you two," she cautioned.

"Mom!" Annabelle looked mortified. It took everything I had not to smirk.

Thankfully Annabelle's mom knew exactly how to sober me up. "Relax, Douglas, it's not like Mr. Smith still practices every week with that shotgun he keeps locked up in the shed." Her husband turned toward us, pointed two fingers at his own eyes and then aimed them straight at me. I gulped at the very clear message, while Annabelle groaned into her hand. The Smiths chuckled as they walked out the door together.

Like two smart teenagers we spent the next 30 minutes innocently scrolling on my phone while waiting for her folks to come back in the hopes of catching us misbehaving. Once enough time had gone for the danger to have passed we found ourselves still scrolling on my phone while we each had one hand inside the other's underwear. We teased each other ruthlessly, at one point having watched the same GRWM video 14 times, before Annabelle finally moaned the word 'pool,' and I just nodded my head. I reluctantly grabbed my bag and headed to change. Getting my trunks tied over my hard-on was not easy, and Annabelle made no secret of her enjoyment in my discomfort, smirking at me in her two-piece. "Shut it, you," I said as we walked out to the pool.

I pulled off my t-shirt in preparation for jumping in but Annabelle put her hand on my arm. "Not yet." I didn't fight as she steered me toward a chaise, pushing me down into it. "I need to do this before you're covered in chlorine." With that she reached for my waistband. I lifted up -- letting her denude me -- before lying back completely naked, my heart beating fast. Annabelle sat down next to me, her fingers stroking along my bare thigh and then finally gripping me as I moaned with my head thrown back. "I'll never get over how gorgeous you look like this," she sighed, as she leaned forward and kissed the crown of my cock.

She began to lick all around the tip, my hips lifting to thrust into her hand which was still wrapped around the base. "I want to get all of you into my mouth," she informed my dick, "but you're so big I don't know if I can."

"Annabelle, you don't have to--"

She squeezed me and I shut up. She resumed kissing and licking my dick like it was better than the greatest lollipop ever made. Then she continued addressing it directly. "Your other brain here needs to stop talking. I've dreamed about having you lay on my tongue, my lips wrapped tightly around you while you stretched my mouth wide. I've fucked my fingers so hard imagining myself having trouble breathing because I was gagging on you." Annabelle paused, then finally looked up at my face, my chest already heaving and my eyes glassed over, as she kept stroking the base. "So, yeah, Dougie, I really, really have to. Just let me blow you, okay?"

I reached into her long curly hair, wrapping it around my hand as I lay my fingers against her scalp. "That's my boy," Annabelle sighed, then stretched her mouth wide and dove down slowly, taking me in as far as she could. Her mouth was tight and I could already feel her coughing around me as she tried to take more in. She kept licking and sucking me, plus stroking the part of me that couldn't fit. Between this unexpected blowjob and the teasing on the couch earlier it didn't take long until I felt myself getting close.

"Baby... Annabelle... fuck it's so good... but I'm gonna blow... fuck... fuck..."

She carefully pulled off me, reaching back to unhook her top, carelessly dropping it on the pool deck before grabbing her big bare tits and squishing my throbbing cock between them. "Next time... next time you're gonna explode in my mouth," she panted, stroking me with her large breasts as my balls tightened against my body, "but this time you're gonna glaze me, Dougie. Make me wear your cum, baby."

"FUUUUUUUUCCCKKKKKKKK!!!!!" I went off like a loud rocket, my body seizing fast as I exploded all over, covering her neck and face, not to mention her tits and the deep valley in between them. Even then, Annabelle didn't stop titfucking me until I worked my hand out of her hair and put it against her cheek, my heart pounding in my ears. Once I finally finished spasming she helped lay me back, then climbed up onto the chaise and snuggled her cum-covered topless body against my spent naked one, smooshing my release between us. I couldn't have cared less about the warm sticky mess as I held onto her for all I was worth.

"I am so... repaying the favor... once I catch... my breath," I huffed into her ear. "Assuming... I don't die from pleasure... first."

She stroked my bare thigh as she giggled against me, a bit breathless herself. "You better not die. You're the Physics guy," she reasoned softly, kissing my neck as she spoke, "and we're gonna need your expertise to work out the logistics for 69ing on this chaise lounge."

Chapter 6

That Annabelle and I were officially together was the hot topic around school the first day back from Break... for about five minutes. Not only had the friends we'd hung out with over Break been happy to spread widely the gossip of what they'd already seen first-hand, exactly nobody else was shocked to find out we had publicly become what everybody else had assumed was true already. When our Calculus teacher smirked at us, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like, 'It's about damn time,' I just put my head down on my desk.

I sat at our usual table at lunch, dropping my stuff off and waiting for Annabelle to join me before going up to grab food. When she walked in she just rolled her eyes, sliding into the seat next to me before leaning over and placing a soft kiss along my jaw. "Sorry I'm late but some girls stopped me to ask if Allison Tavares had been exaggerating."

At first I didn't get it until a couple other girls started to giggle, after which I remembered Annabelle's claim that Allison had spoken highly of my size in the days after the awkward handjob she had given me sophomore year. I turned to Annabelle as my face flamed to life. "And... what did you tell them?"

"I was honest. I told them Allison had definitely undersold it."

The wolf-whistles and laughter that followed were loud as I dropped my head into my hands, while several people patted me on the back in faux congratulations. Annabelle smirked at my discomfort. "What?" she asked me, loudly. "I'm not even sure if I should attempt lunch. I think I might have dislocated my jaw last night when I tried to--"

I cut off her next words by covering her mouth with my hand, then reached out with my other arm to pull her tight against me. Our table was cackling hysterically as I blushed furiously into Annabelle's neck, her hand stroking my face in victory. "Oh, you are so fucking screwed later," I hissed into her ear.

She leaned in and kissed my jaw again. "Not yet, but someday soon, I promise."

The weeks that followed were filled for us with two things: prepping for AP exams and hooking up. A lot of the former... and a ridiculous amount of the latter. Both my mom and her parents had given up trying to set boundaries, though everyone made it clear they preferred not to have to witness me corrupting Annabelle or vice versa.

For example, my mom made the mistake one day of opening my door without knocking, then she shrieked hysterically -- slamming the door shut again -- when she found me in just boxers, my tongue feverishly working between Annabelle's legs while she sat back on my bed spread wide in only her bra. We flew back into our clothes, then both visibly flinched as my mother attempted calmly to let us know through the door that dinner was ready and to ask for our help setting the table. We were out my door in seconds, trying to pretend like nothing had happened, at which point my mom decided some payback was in order for giving her the shock of her life. "Dougie, dear, I'm so glad to see you're being attentive to Annabelle's needs, but perhaps you should cool down in your room for a minute before coming down to the kitchen." I realized my mistake when Annabelle's eyes went wide staring at the large bulge in my shorts, at which point I did a quick 180, bolting back into my room to think unsexy thoughts.

I heard Annabelle snickering as she and my mom made their way down the stairs together, until my mom piped up again. "And, Annabelle, sweetheart, that is a lovely blouse, but you may want to turn it right-side out before we sit."

In a close second to this mortification was the evening when Annabelle's dad cornered me in their living room as Annabelle helped her mom in the kitchen. "Doug, my boy," he began, placing a secure hand on my shoulder. I was at least four inches taller than Mr. Smith but the look he was giving me made it clear that that didn't worry him in the least. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about the purplish bruise on the side of my daughter's neck? It honestly looks like some creature tried to suck the blood right out of her."

My throat went dry as I did remember specifically latching onto Annabelle's neck the other night in my room as I came in her hand while she rode my thigh to multiple orgasms. "I think... that is to say... I believe there is a very aggressive population of mosquitoes this spring," I stammered, silently wondering where they would hold my funeral. I looked down at Mr. Smith, who unsurprisingly was not buying my warning about the dangers of a new breed of vampiric mosquitoes. "Would you at least give me a running start, sir?"

"Absolutely, Doug," he responded warmly. "After all, I can still hit a tin-can at 100 yards and would enjoy the challenge."

I paused. "I really am sorry, Mr. Smith. We just... got caught up."

"Believe it or not," he chuckled, releasing his death grip on my shoulder and turning it into something much more good-natured, "I do remember being 18 once. And I know how much you care about her." Annabelle called us in for dinner and we started walking. Before we swung the kitchen door inwards, however, he caught my arm and turned me toward him. This time there was no humor in his face. "But, if you get her pregnant, then you and I will be having a very different conversation. Do you understand me, Doug?"

My breath stopped. "Yes, sir, of course." He nodded like he wanted to believe me, then headed into the kitchen, a warm smile plastered on his face for his wife and daughter.

I wondered if I should have told him the truth: that Annabelle and I weren't actually having sex... yet. But it was a close thing. I had lost count of the number of times Annabelle had cum from rubbing her panty-covered slit along my hardened length, sometimes while I was still in my boxers but most times while I lay naked below her. Then there were those times her panties came off. The first time I saw Annabelle completely naked I refused to do anything else before I kissed nearly every single inch of her bare body. But, when her panties came off, my boxers stayed on... and vice versa. An unspoken rule... but a rule, nonetheless.

We never talked about going further -- about what we weren't doing -- because we were too busy finding creative ways and exciting places to take care of each other. We could definitively answer the question asked in that Alanis Morissette song my mom liked: Yes, Annabelle would go down on me in a theater... even with our friends sitting just a couple rows over. And the teacher who caught me going down on Annabelle in an empty classroom while the rest of the school was at a pep rally didn't buy our claim that we were just two enthusiastic students overcome with school spirit, though she did let us off with a warning rather than sending our asses (mine covered, Annabelle's bare) to detention.

And then came the AP exams, which after all the mental and emotional buildup over the year were... annoyingly anticlimactic. We had studied rigorously for months, taken countless practice exams, stressed about them nonstop in the weeks leading up... all basically for nothing. I mean, Annabelle fretted about AP Physics, and I lamented AP English Lit, but otherwise we figured we'd done okay.

The day after APs ended was Senior Ditch Day, and the entire senior class went to a nearby beach. Annabelle and I behaved ourselves like the model students we were; that is to say we were relatively sure almost nobody noticed our arms moving underwater as we got each other off while pressed together in the surf. Well, except for that one friend of Annabelle's who screamed out to her from about 20 feet away, "Omigod, is he fingering you right now?" To be fair, at that moment Annabelle was wrapped tightly around me, her whole body clenched, with not one but two of my fingers shoved into her bikini bottoms and curled inside her underwater with my thumb working her clit. A minute later her body relaxed completely and she lazily lifted a thumbs-up into the air which only, say, 75% of the senior class noticed, many of whom applauded.

Like I said, we were model citizens. And then it was time for her birthday.

Chapter 7

When Annabelle's family moved to town while we were all in middle school, it was temporarily big news that the new girl in our grade was actually a year older than us. When she and I started becoming friends sophomore year -- quickly turning into best friends -- I learned the completely mundane details behind why she went through kindergarten twice. The punchline was that although I had just turned 18 a few months earlier, Annabelle actually turned 18 back in May of our junior year. We had made a big deal of it back then (I got her an embarrassing shirt with a blown-up baby picture of her -- followed by the caption 'Now a legal adult!' -- which she was then required to wear the entire 24 hours of her birthday, including at school) but at the time we were just best friends.

As Annabelle's 19th birthday arrived, our status had improved significantly.

It was a Saturday and we lazily hung out at her pool all day... along with our school friends, Annabelle's parents, and even my mom. Meaning that beyond cuddling together on the same chaise, our behavior for once was actually beyond reproach, though since it was her birthday I was federally required at some point during the day to toss Annabelle in the pool when she least expected it. Otherwise, the gathering was very chill, and all our friends headed out by 5:00 or so. Once we had cleaned up from the day party, the two of us and the three parents got changed for dinner.

As a rule the Smiths eschewed going out for meals as all three of them loved to cook. While my mom also loved to cook, our house frequently did take-out, and for this special occasion Annabelle's parents had good-naturedly 'allowed' me to order in from Annabelle's favorite Italian place as long as we all agreed to dress up nicely for it. We sat out on their patio, and as antipasto led to entrees and eventually to a huge chunk of tiramisu, even Mrs. Smith had to admit begrudgingly that the food was delicious.

After we all announced ourselves overly full, it was time for presents. The Smiths gave Annabelle a check to cover half of the new used car she desperately wanted to replace the clunker that we both loved but which at this point was being held together by little more than bubble gum and prayer. Annabelle had worked hard to save up the other half of the cost -- mostly from babysitting and working at the local library -- to fulfill her end of the deal, and she hugged her parents tightly as they held up their end as well. My mom got her this beautiful pair of earrings that Annabelle had apparently been not-so-subtly lusting after one day when the two moms and Annabelle had gone shopping together. She hugged my mom tightly as well. And then it was my turn.

I pulled a flat gift-wrapped box out of a pocket in the jacket I had left hanging on the back of my chair. I had my arm around the back of Annabelle's chair as I handed it to her. She pulled off the tiny piece of paper I had taped there as a card, smirking at the inscription (which read simply 'Not a birthday shirt'), then ripped off the wrapping paper and opened the box. Her hand went in front of her mouth as she looked inside.

Inside was a thin solid gold chain with a heart pendant. Annabelle picked it up, letting the chain dangle loosely from her fingers. She felt the weight of the pendant, then found the catch that released the two sides of the heart, which folded out to reveal two baby pictures inside.

"Is that... are those us?" she asked quietly.

"No, Banana, I thought it would be more fun to use someone else's baby pictures." Even the grownups chuckled at that one.

"Omigod, you are such a dork face," she countered, rolling her eyes, but then leaned in, gently kissing my jaw, leaving her cheek to brush against mine before turning her back to me and lifting her hair. "It's perfect. Put it on me?"

I draped the necklace in front of her, first dropping the pendant into her cleavage before using the chain to pull it up. Once I got the clasp done I gently kissed Annabelle's neck, at which point her dad immediately cleared his throat meaningfully, earning another chuckle from the two moms. As they talked among themselves Annabelle touched my face again. "It's perfect. I love it."

"You sure? You know, it's a heart 'cause... I mean it's a heart, because, you know..."

"I love it. It's everything I... it's all I could have wanted." Then sort of under her breath, "Except... I mean..."

That caught my attention. "Except... what?"

Her eyes went wide as she realized she had unintentionally said that last bit out loud. "Nothing. It's amazing, I love it. I love it, Dougie."

"Annabelle, if you want something else we can take it back, we can get you whatever you want."

She was fiddling with the necklace now, nervous. "Dougie, shut up, okay? This is it, I just want this, this perfect pendant, this perfect moment... my perfect boy." She reached out for my face again. "Please, just forget it, okay?"

But she wasn't meeting my eyes, and by now the parents were watching us intently. "Annabelle," I whispered, taking her hand in mine. "What is going on?"

"Dougie... please... let it go."

"Annabelle, no."

She pushed her chair back and stood up, breaking my hold on her hand. She looked at her folks. "I need to go... inside... for something. I'll be... back." She turned around and fled into the house.

I stood to follow, but felt her mom grab my arm. "Douglas?"

I looked back at Mrs. Smith, clueless. "I... I have no idea what just happened." I gently removed her hand from my wrist. "Would you excuse me?" Without waiting for a response I turned and hurried inside. I followed the sound of crying and found Annabelle sitting on her bed, still fiddling with the chain. She was looking at the open pendant with such sadness that I felt my heart cracking in my chest.

I stepped inside her room, closing the door behind me. "I know it's a bad picture of me, but I promise you I've grown a lot as a person since then."

She turned to me as I finished the bit. She looked miserable. "I'm such an asshole. You get me the most amazing present, like, ever, and I'm the idiot who says, 'Well, this is nice, but what I really wanted was...'" She groaned as her head fell back to rest on her neck.

I sat on the bed next to her, wrapping my arms around her. "Yeah, about that. As your 'male companion,'" I had briefly dropped my voice an octave or so to stress my manliness before going on, "I am a little curious what it is you really wanted." I gently took her face in my hand and turned it toward me. "Because if it is humanly possible to get it for you, I will move heaven and earth until you have it."

She pulled away, standing up quickly and wrapping her arms around herself as if to keep from breaking apart. "Don't say that... you can't... Dougie, please..."

"Annabelle, please, I'm fucking dying here, give me a clue, anyth--"

"I want you, Dougie." She turned to face me. "I want you. Inside me. I wanna get stretched out on your big dick. I wanna feel you rearranging my insides. I want you to bend me over the bed and rail me from behind. I want to walk funny so everyone knows I had the greatest guy ever pounding me with his huge cock over and over and over again."

"That's what this was about?" I nearly laughed in relief. "Of course I want that. Of course I want to feel you stretched around me." I paused, made a face. "I mean, in fairness, I may need to work on managing your expectations ahead of time--"

But she wasn't done. "I want you to take my virginity. That's what I really want for my birthday."

"I mean, yeah, one virginity taken, sounds good--." But then I stopped chuckling, realizing what we'd just agreed to. "Wait, what are you talking about? You're not a virgin. I mean, you and Marco Lopez did it at the party after Homecoming this year." I looked at her, confused. "You said it was fun. I don't understand."

I sat back down as her shoulders slumped. She dropped onto her bed, hugging a pillow as she sat back against her headboard. I remained at the other end, the chasm between us too deep to cross right now.

Annabelle looked down into her lap. "Marco is... is such a sweetheart, so much fun to act with, and he's got that beautiful baritone. And..." She looked at me, finally, breathing out in a huff like she'd accepted she was about to do something she really didn't want to. "And... Marco is gay. He finally had come to figure out who he really was last summer, and when school started back up he told only a couple of us in theater with him. But, like, half the school goes to the same church his family does. And Marco's parents... they would never understand or accept him if they found out. He couldn't come out at school, he couldn't even flirt with this guy he really liked. It was painful to watch him hiding, see him hurting.

"When you and I got to the Homecoming party that night, you went off with Tracy Townsend." I frowned at the memory of that shitty hookup, but said nothing to interrupt her. "And I ran into Marco. I wasn't thinking; I just grabbed his hand and pulled him into an empty bedroom. And then we..." She closed her eyes. "Then, we jumped up and down on the bed, and banged a dresser into a wall a bunch of times, and made ridiculous noises. Like in that Emma Stone movie. And ten minutes later, when we walked out of the room -- me pretending to button my shirt back up, Marco with a goofy grin and a fake swagger -- everyone thought we had banged. Shutting down any public rumors about Marco being gay.

"About twenty minutes after that I found you, looking like shit but with a dumb smile, having just gotten laid. And you had heard the rumor already. You said to me, 'Marco Lopez, huh?' and I played it off like, 'Whatever, it's a party, right?' And five minutes later you and I left." Annabelle sat back, looking exhausted.

I sat staring at my hands. I thought I heard the various parents moving around downstairs but my mind could only focus on what Annabelle had just told me. I tried to make sense of it. "I mean, you fooled the entire school to help a friend. I think that's amazing. You let yourself be the focus of the rumor mill for like a whole day just to protect a good guy like Marco. How could I not be proud of you for that?

"But, it still doesn't explain why you lied to me about it. I mean, I get that it was Marco's secret, and so it wasn't really yours to tell me. But still... you could've just said in the car ride home, 'Yeah, nothing actually happened but I just need people to believe it did,' and it would have been weird but I would have gone along with it because I always have your back." I was getting angrier with each thought. "And even if you had chosen to spill Marco's secret, then I would've taken it to the grave because you're my best friend... and you fucking knew that! So how could you let me believe this huge, stupid lie for months? Not only before we got together, but especially since then?"

I reached out to Annabelle but she wrapped her arms around herself tighter and just shook her head. I couldn't even figure out how we'd gotten here. "Annabelle, you've got to give me something! Just tell me whatever it is I'm not smart enough to have figured out already. Whatever it is, we'll get through it. We always get through it together."

Whatever the secret was, it was ripping her apart. She leaned toward me, and for a moment I thought I had gotten through. But instead she stood up, walked around me, and opened her door. She looked to be in so much pain. "Mrs. Lewis?" she called out for my mom, her voice breaking and carrying at the same time. "I know that Dougie and I were supposed to go out, but I guess I'm just not feeling great tonight. Would you mind giving him a ride home... now, maybe?"

I shook my head at Annabelle, finally standing up and getting in her face. "Don't do this. Don't shut me out." She finally reached toward me, putting her hand on my chest, but instead of pulling me in tight she instead pushed me through her open doorway. She was already closing the door in my face before I even realized where I was standing. I could see her clutching the pendant tight during the half-second before the door slammed shut on me, the click of the thumb-button lock deafening.

I went to slam my fists against her door but was stopped by a gentle hand on my back. I turned to see my mom looking up at me, her stricken expression reflecting mine. I leaned down, feeling so lost, and let her comfort me. "I've got him, Annabelle," my mom said hesitantly through the door. "I hope you feel better soon, dear." She steered me back downstairs, Annabelle's parents waiting for us at the bottom. I just shrugged sadly at both of them, completely knocked down. Mr. Smith put his hand on my shoulder, then handed me my jacket as my mom thanked them for hosting dinner. I looked up one last time toward Annabelle's closed door before we stepped out into the night.

Chapter 8

Annabelle's phone went straight to voicemail each time I tried to call the next morning. My texts from after I got home the previous night, begging her to talk to me, were left on read. When I finally gave in Sunday afternoon and called the house line, Mrs. Smith told me that Annabelle had come down for lunch but otherwise said she just needed some time alone. That made me angry again, thinking how Annabelle could have just put that in a fucking text to me, though it did provide some peace of mind to know she was at least up for leaving her room.

I kept playing the events from the previous evening over and over in my mind, trying to make sense of things. I thought of what Annabelle had done for Marco, and it reminded me of what an amazing person she was. But then I would come back to the question of why she hadn't ever told me the truth about it. I lay on my bed staring up at the ceiling. My mom finally gave up trying to get me to talk, only telling me to try to have a good day when she dropped me off that Monday morning at school.

I looked all around the school but couldn't find Annabelle anywhere. No one had seen her. I walked into homeroom realizing that the past thirty-six hours of radio silence may have been the longest stretch she and I had gone without communicating in some way since we had started becoming friends sophomore year. The friends who'd seen us Saturday at her pool party asked how the rest of the weekend was, and I just said it was great. I didn't have it in me to lie since I still didn't have a fucking clue what had happened.

The first class I'd see Annabelle in was AP Chemistry, though she still wasn't around as we filed in. Since the AP Exam had come and gone, everyone just kept talking at full volume when the bell rang, and even Mr. Lawrence, our teacher, sat in the front of the room scrolling on his phone.

I could feel the emptiness of Annabelle's seat next to me at our lab table five minutes into the class. I pulled up another blank text to her, still unsure of what to say, when a whirlwind slammed into me, nearly knocking me off my stool. Annabelle's arms wrapped tight around me and she was peppering my jaw and neck with light kisses. A sob escaped my throat and I was holding her back so tight I worried I might crack a rib.

"Annabelle, Doug," Mr. Lawrence called out awkwardly, "while the class is certainly less formal these days, if you two could restrain yourselves -- at least while you're under my supervision -- that would be just peachy." The class laughed as Annabelle peeled herself off me, keeping a tight grip on my hand.

"I still don't understand anything," I whispered to her as she took her own seat. "You have to talk to me."

She nuzzled herself back into my neck, unbothered by Mr. Lawrence frowning in our direction. "After school, okay? I promise we'll talk after school." She didn't move away, and I swore I could feel her heart racing.

Throughout the rest of the day, Annabelle was just a little more affectionate than usual, which was saying something. At lunch she sat straddling me, her head resting firmly on my chest as if trying to burrow inside, while everyone around us talked about prom coming up in a couple weeks. In Calculus, as we sat around shooting the shit with friends, her hand never left my thigh, and I caught her looking down at it a few times as if confirming that I was still there. While our newly earned reputation for PDA meant no one would have been surprised if she had then shoved her hand inside my shorts, there was nothing playful about the way Annabelle was holding on to me. She was like a person at dusk desperately trying to enjoy every last ray of light before the sun went down.

Or like a girl who was scared that this was the last day her boyfriend would ever want her this close to him.

After the final bell of the day rang, we hung around the courtyard just waiting for the school to empty. I kept hoping Annabelle would start talking, but besides saying bye to friends she didn't say a word to me. Finally the school grew quiet, and Annabelle stood up, reaching for me. "Walk with me?"

I took her hand, feeling like a man being led to the gallows. She pulled us toward the Language Arts wing, and after walking halfway down the corridor we finally stopped. We were in front of Ms. Adams's classroom, our sophomore English teacher. Annabelle turned the knob and we stepped inside, flicking on the lights.

I looked around the classroom full of desks and pictures of famous authors but empty of other people. "Annabelle, if you think finding an empty classroom to hook up in is gonna fix things--"

"Shut up, dork face." I turned and saw this sad, resigned version of Annabelle that I hardly recognized. Without another word she walked three aisles over, turning toward the back of the room, finally sitting at the desk against the wall. "This is where I sat that year." Then she pointed all the way across the room. "And you sat over there."

"I remember. I mean, at least that's where I started the year."

"Yeah," she agreed. "I didn't really know you then. We'd had some classes in eighth and ninth grades, but we hadn't really talked. Not until Ms. Adams assigned that project."

Of course I knew to what she was referring. The project in question was a group report that Ms. Adams had assigned on 'Lord of the Flies and the lessons we can take from it as we navigate the jungle that is the high school social hierarchy.' Or some shit like that; Ms. Adams liked trying to relate to her students and had been hoping to accomplish this each year for the past fifty years. But this assignment was when Annabelle and I had first become friends, as we had been randomly grouped together for it. I went over to her house that first afternoon, and while I had just been hoping to find someone who wasn't going to flake out and force me to have to do the whole thing on my own, instead I found this really cool girl with a sense of humor that matched my own. We got an A on the project, and I got a new best friend.

"Then Angelica Jimenez and David Yu broke up," Annabelle continued with the story I already knew, "and she didn't want to sit over here by him anymore, so you switched with her. Suddenly you were diagonally one seat ahead of me. And you've never left my side since."

"Look," I finally cut in, "if you're breaking up with me, there are much easier ways than making me relive our greatest hits."

She laughed bitterly. "Of course you would think I'm breaking up with you. Because I've been a total psycho for two days. All because I had lied to you."

I leaned on the desk next to me, still across the room from her. "Yeah, I still don't understand why you did that. It wouldn't have mattered to me if you had sex with Marco, or didn't have sex with him. As long as you had told me the truth it wouldn't have mattered to me either way."

Annabelle closed her eyes momentarily. When she opened them there were tears. "I know it wouldn't have mattered. And I know it couldn't have mattered less to you when you thought I had." Her voice broke. "But I really, really wished it did matter to you. At that moment, I wished... I wished you had hated hearing that I had sex with someone... someone who wasn't you."

My eyes flew to her face. The tears were flowing freely as she went on.

"Of course I couldn't get angry that you hadn't reacted the way I wanted you to; you're my best friend. For two years I'd watched you hook up and mess around with a host of different girls from around the school, and while I cheered you on like a buddy, inside... inside my heart tore a little every time you touched a girl who wasn't me. You didn't see me that way. So I took whatever you were willing to give me, and I became the single best friend you could ever have."

"But... but it's not like you didn't date. You messed around with other guys. I mean, you and Billy Gulik were, like, hot and heavy for two months junior year."

"Yeah, well, when the boy you're desperately in love with makes it clear every day that he'd rather give you a fist bump than try to cop a feel, you find ways to distract yourself."

My ears were ringing. "Wait... did you just say--"

"That I've been head over heels in love with you for more than two years, since that very first afternoon at my house, and that I've kept it a secret what I'd really wished for from you every single day since?" Annabelle laughed miserably through her tears. "Yup, that pretty much sums it up."

I couldn't move toward her; I could only stare. "But... my birthday... and the day after? You asked me if I wanted it to mean more, but before I could even think about it, you were the one already telling me that you didn't want it to mean more. 'FWB might be fun,' or some bullshit like that."

Annabelle looked down. "Another lie. Another effort at self-preservation. I said, 'fuck it,' and decided to shoot my shot before it was all too late, but afterward all you seemed to care about was figuring out why your best friend had jacked you off for your birthday. Not 'some cute girl,' just 'your best friend.' So then I took one last chance and asked you if you wanted it to mean more, and when you couldn't even answer me, I pretended that I hadn't wanted it to either. Because you still couldn't see me like that.

"But then... somehow... things did begin to change. We changed. That day in History, the room was dark, and, oh, you ended up playing between my legs, and I came so hard when you realized that I wasn't just your best friend, but that I was also a girl. And these past few months, getting to be your best friend and your girlfriend all at the same time, getting to touch you, and to have you touch me... it's been like a dream.

"But now you know who I really am: the girl who's been in love with you for our entire friendship, and hid it from you. Someone who'd let you believe some bullshit lie about me losing my virginity to another guy in the vague hopes you'd finally see me as somebody sexual and desirable... and lovable." Annabelle kept looking down at the desk. "Fuck, it sounds so stupid when I say it out loud. But I knew I needed to tell you the truth now, whatever it costs me."

My arms were crossed as she finished. I stared down at my feet, trying to process everything she had just said. Two years of me not knowing the truth. I slowly walked three aisles over, then turned toward the back, too, stopping and leaning on my old desk. The one diagonally in front of her.

Annabelle looked up, miserable. "I get it if you don't want--"

"My turn to talk," I said, cutting her off. She lowered her head, silent, as I went on. "For the past two days you have allowed me to drive myself insane, having absolutely no idea why my girlfriend-and-best-friend-in-one had thrown me out of her room, on her birthday, after admitting to allowing me to believe for months a lie about something that seems pretty important."

"Dougie, I'm so sorry, I--"

"Still. My. Turn." I leaned back and looked up to the ceiling as her jaw snapped shut again. "And, just so I'm clear... for more than two years now, you'd harbored secret feelings for me, and, when you became certain that I didn't return those feelings, rather than leaving me in the dust, you chose instead to stick with me, always have my back, and become the most important person in my life, with the possible exception of my mom." I slanted my head as I looked at her face. "Nod if I have that part right."

"I can't tell if you're saying that in a good or bad way--"

"Banana, seriously. Shut. Up." Now it was her turn to just stare.

I ran five fingers through my hair. "Last one, I promise. Am I correct in saying that for the past couple months, you've been the best girlfriend ever, been the sexiest fucking woman alive, and most importantly, forgiven me for being too stupid to see what I had right in front of me for two years?"

You could've heard a pin drop.

"Oh sure," I added, "for two years I can't get a damn word in edgewise, but now she--"

Whatever additional snark I was going for was cut off as Annabelle threw herself into my arms, burying her face in my chest. She refused to look up as she cried into my shirt. "You're not... you're not pissed?"

I scrunched up my face. "I mean, maybe a little, at myself." I kissed her temple as I held her tight. "I am so fucking stupid, I wasted two whole years."

She went to her toes, kissing my jaw and nuzzling my neck. I could feel the relief flow through her. "Those two years were still amazing. I still had you... and you still had me. And now we get to keep making up for lost time. I mean, I think I know a guy who might get very lucky after prom... if he still wants me."

"Yeah, Banana, he still really, really wants you. Something about bending you over a bed and railing you from behind." I wiggled my eyebrows comically. "I promise that if you're a really naughty girl... I think that can be arranged."

Chapter 9

With our lives back on track, the next couple weeks went by in a blur, and suddenly it was prom. We were going with two other couples. The three guys had gone in together on a limo that would take us from Annabelle's -- where we were all gathering -- to the hotel where prom was being held... and where Annabelle and I had a hotel room reserved upstairs for afterward. My mom didn't even blink when we told her that we were getting one, and while Mrs. Smith had also considered it fait accompli, Annabelle's dad had made sure to point toward the shed every time he saw me, reminding me ever so gently about the shotgun he kept there.

I got ready at home that afternoon, then my mom and I drove over to Annabelle's. The other two couples were already there as were all the parents involved. I stood nervously in the foyer. And then Annabelle stepped out of her room and started down the stairs.

If people were still talking around me, I couldn't hear a word of it. My heart pounded violently in my chest as I watched her descend. She was in a strapless red dress that hugged her considerable chest perfectly. Her long curly hair had been piled expertly on top of her head, which allowed her to show off the earrings she loved from my mom. And hanging around her neck was the heart pendant chain that I had gotten her. When she got to the bottom she smiled at me as I just goggled at her. "Well? Can you say something?"

I was so stunned I had forgotten how to speak for a moment... until it all rushed out. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." I came over, leaning in to gently kiss her jaw before pulling away, knowing better than to risk messing up her hair or make-up or wrinkling her dress by following through on what I really wanted to do to her right then. I slipped on her wrist corsage and she pinned on my boutonniere. After that, Annabelle and the other two girls spent five minutes complimenting each other on their outfits, we all took pictures (first as the bigger group and then as separate couples), and finally we were off to prom in our stretch limo.

The dance itself was... fun, I guess. The music was good, the food was mid, the Prom King and Queen were predictably a jock and a cheerleader, and the punch we avoided was predictably spiked. Around 11:30 or so we made our rounds saying goodnight to our friends, and then Annabelle and I held hands as we headed toward the elevator that would take us up to our room.

As it slowly ascended, I stood behind her, first kissing her neck, then right below her ear. She reached down and caressed me through my tuxedo pants, moaning gently as I began to grow in her hand. "You know," she sighed quietly, "for a girl about to lose her virginity to a guy packing a fucking baseball bat, I'm really not that nervous."

"So, yeah, back to what I had been saying previously about managing your expectations..."

Annabelle spun around and held my face in her hands. "I never expected I'd get to be here with you at all. Whatever comes next is just gravy."

A minute later we were walking into our room, lazily touching each other as we did. I had already been at the hotel earlier in the day, checking in and dropping off our overnight bags as well as Annabelle's clunker for when we checked out in the morning. As the door closed behind us, we took the moment in, then slowly stripped each other down. First she got me out of my tuxedo, stopping only when I was down to my badly tented boxer briefs. Then it was my turn.

I dropped to my knees to unbuckle each heel, and one at a time, kissed the inside of her calves as I did. Annabelle turned her back to me and I slowly unzipped her dress until it fell in a puddle at her feet. I kissed down the back of her neck and between her shoulder blades. I turned her back around and breathlessly took in her strapless corset and panties, both in fire engine red to match her dress. I pulled her tight against me and went to work kissing her neck, shoulders, and the tops of her breasts.

Panting, Annabelle pushed me back, then reached down to lower my boxer briefs, pulling the waistband over my hard cock as she did. Once I was naked I started in on the corset's laces, a process made quite inefficient by Annabelle stroking me as I worked. As soon as the corset finally gave way and dropped to the floor I was immediately on my knees, pulling her panties down and kissing her newly bared pussy.

Annabelle pulled me up to stand and then pressed herself against me. For the first time ever we were completely skin-to-skin, every inch of me touching every inch of her. She started dragging me toward the bed, using my cock as a leash, and while I applauded her enthusiasm I knew I needed to grab one of the dozen condoms in my bag that I'd bought earlier in the week. "Just one moment, madam, I believe I have something in the rubberish variety that might aid in our plans."

"Well it better not be a dildo... unless of course it's for you, in which case you have to let me watch," she added, nervously. "And if it's a condom... you don't need it." She bit her lip gently as she looked at my face. "I've been on the pill for over a year now. If it's okay with you, I want you bare inside me."

I smiled softly, then pushed Annabelle back onto the bed, kneeling over her naked body. "Well, who am I to deny a request from a lady?" I leaned down and began licking her breasts, teasing her puckered nipples with my teeth as I used one hand to stroke her slit. I kissed down her body, settling in to lick, bite, and suck on her clit until I was rudely interrupted when she forcefully grabbed my hair.

"Dougie... I can't wait. I need you to fuck me... now."

I pretended to ignore her as I kept licking and sucking. "Just a moment, your call is important to--"

"DOUGLAS LEWIS, I SAID GET UP HERE AND FUCK ME NOW!!!!" My hair was pulled violently up her body, the rest of me going with it. I landed with my hands braced around her head as I kept my weight on my knees, my cock hard against her thigh. Annabelle kissed my chin. "Sorry about your scalp."

"Eh, the hair will grow back someday." I looked into her eyes. "Guide me in?"

I felt her hand grip me at the top of my shaft as she lined me up at her entrance. She was still soaked from my efforts with her clit. A thought crossed my mind. "So, not to trample on this ridiculously romantic moment, but this may really hurt at first."

She gasped as my hard cock pressed against her. "Yeah, I can neither confirm nor deny that I might have inadvertently taken care of my hymen back in ninth with an iffy decision involving a cucumber." I leaned my hips forward, finally pushing my cockhead inside her. Annabelle cried out. "FUCKKKKK!!!! You are so much bigger than that cucumber."

My breath hitched as I slowly pushed in further. Annabelle was so tight that I stopped short, though I gently worked myself deeper as she began to relax. I balanced on my elbow so I could use my hand to cup her neck, leaning down to kiss her eyelids one at a time.

She put her hand on my arm. "Perfect... so perfect... just stay right there... for me," she whispered. She lifted her legs so they were wrapped around my ass.

"Perfect... for me, too," I sighed. "For what it's worth, you're not a virgin anymore. I'm really glad... you chose me."

"Totally worth the wait." She finally relaxed around me as I bottomed out. "But... enough sappy crappy. Time to fuck the shit out of me, Dougie."

I chuckled as I began to move. It took a few minutes but we finally developed a rhythm, where I'd pull back slowly and then push back in while she moved her hips forward to meet me. Then we began moving harder and faster. I let go of her neck, moving that hand down to stroke her clit right above the point where we were joined. Her breathing became stunted.

"Oh fuck Dougie... fuck... omigod... Dougie... DOUGIE... I love... I love... AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!" I felt her cunt tighten around me, nearly blinding me, as Annabelle screamed out, long and loud.

Less than a minute later I felt my climax coming on. "Baby... I'm there... are you ready?"

She held me tight. "Been ready for you... for years." And I exploded deep inside my best friend... my Annabelle.

Once I finished I stayed inside her, still pressed on top of her. I kissed her neck before I slowly began to pull out, Annabelle wincing as I did. "Like, a gallon of cum is about to pour out of me, isn't it?" she asked, still smiling lazily.

"I'm more of a metric guy, I like to think of it in liters."

"You're such a dork face, even when you're inside me." She leaned forward and kissed my jaw. I finished pulling out and she winced again briefly before regaining her smile. "You were inside me. I still can't... I can't believe it."

"And I plan to be inside you again soon. Many, many times." I kissed her shoulder as I stood up, walking into the bathroom to wet a washcloth. I brought it back to the bed and helped clean Annabelle up. I lay down next to her, tucking her under my arm as she lay against my chest, her leg resting over mine.

"I don't mean to alarm you but I think you successfully rearranged my insides, so thanks for that," she sighed into me, yawning. "Not to mention knocking me unconscious. At least for an hour. Then it'll be go-time again." I chuckled as another yawn overtook her.

"Goodnight kiss?" I asked, puckering up and smacking my lips.

"Nope... that's not where we kiss."

I laughed as I leaned back. "Yeah, how exactly did that happen?"

"How is it that you've now cum inside me, tossed my salad, licked my pussy, sucked my tits -- not to mention leaving a monster hickey that my dad still picks on me about -- but never kissed me on the lips?" she asked, smirking lazily at the absurdity of our progression: we started at third, then jogged to second, and tonight we slid safely into home. But somehow along the way we had forgotten to go to first base. Instead we enjoyed mauling each other's neck, jaw, and chin. Go figure.

"The kissing-on-the-jaw-thing is our thing. I think we're famous for it." I leaned down in an effort to finally kiss her on the lips, but she put her hand up to stop me.

"No, you don't, mister! You're gonna kiss me on the lips only when you are ready to declare how much you love me."

"Seriously, Banana, you know I--"

"Nope, no way, not like that! The first time you tell me you love me... you'll show me instead. I'll get the message loud and clear."

"And what if it takes me a while to craft the perfect message?"

Annabelle lay back next to me, her full breasts lying wide on her chest, a smug look on her sleepy face. "As you know I'm a very patient woman when it comes to holding out for something I really, really want. And I plan to keep you around for a very long time." She kissed my jaw, turned over, and closed her eyes. I wrapped myself around this perfect woman, following her into sleep.

In the end, I didn't make her wait that long. We graduated four days after prom, and just as we walked out of the auditorium, proud high school graduates, I spun Annabelle around, lifting her off the ground, pressing my lips against hers.

Our first real kiss.

Fans of The Princess Bride would have recognized this kiss. It was the one that left in the dust the five most passionate kisses ever recorded. The one that made the sun dim because something even more brilliant was happening below it.

It was the kind of kiss that delivered a very specific, very heartfelt message to a very specific, very amazing young lady.

Annabelle kept kissing me back, licking the inside of my mouth, before pulling away to look up at me, stunned. "So you love me, Dougie, do ya now?"

"I love you, Anna-Banana. You know I do."

Epilogue

I sit up, slowly realizing I must have dozed off for a minute. I look across the room to see my two-year-old, Sebastian, has finally fallen back to sleep. The clock on his wall reads 3:17am.

I try not to groan audibly as I roll my neck back and forth, then tiptoe out of his room, closing the door behind me silently. I cross the hall and walk into the bedroom.

"Finally down?" my wife asks quietly, turning under our covers to face me.

"Yup. Only took three stories and two songs this time."

She chuckles. "New personal best."

"Funny." I pull off my shirt, leaving me in just pajama pants. "This used to be a whole lot easier a year ago. He never wanted me in the middle of the night then."

"That's because I was still nursing him. Seb just wanted me for my boobs."

I pull back the covers and find her waiting bare underneath them. I stare appreciatively. "That's because your boobs are fantastic."

"'Spectacular,' I believe, was the word you used the first time you saw them." Annabelle reaches forward to lower my pajamas, taking me in her hand as my pants drop to the floor.

I slide into our bed as she guides me inside her, her breath hitching as I fill her completely. "Yup," I sigh, beginning to move on top of her, "fucking spectacular."

We fit together, perfect like always. After a few minutes I reach under and tilt her hips forward, if possible working myself deeper. Annabelle's cry in response could wake the dead, though we both freeze immediately, more concerned it has woken our son.

Once we're convinced we're safe -- for now, at least -- I squeeze her ass as we begin to move together again. "Next time you make noise, I am going to spank you."

She moans into my ear. "Do you promise, Dougie?"

I look down at my Annabelle: the girl I've loved for ten years, my wife for the last five, the mother of my child. My best friend... forever. "I do, Anna-Banana. I really do."