Never Have I Ever.Cass finds the stud in her buddy Andrew.

Based on a post by SmallTownPrincess. Listen to the Podcast at My first Time.

Cassie

gasped, jumping in her seat as the clap of thunder and splitting bolt

of lightning across the screen lit the theater like daylight for an

instant. In her momentary panic, she grabbed at the armrest, the fingers

of her left hand finding instead the warm forearm of her fellow

movie-goer and best friend, Andrew.

Their

met eyes for a moment, hers still wide with residual surprise and his

glittering with amusement. With a blush for her silly panic and for the

unexpected touch, she took her hand away, crossing her arms across her

stomach and turning her face back to the screen.

Recently, for reasons she couldn't entirely understand, Cassie had begun to feel awkward around Andrew.

Too

often she found herself blushing for small things, or giggling

nervously, or losing the courage to do things like brush a hand through

his hair or jump on his back for a piggy-back ride; things that a few

months earlier she would have done without thinking.

It

was their stupid friend Margaret who'd started it, with her talk of

"friends with benefits." Cassie had never considered the idea that her

tall, gangly Andy could be, as Margaret had put it, "a certified

hottie." They'd been friends for so long that she could no longer hold

herself far enough away from him to be able to see him with an

objective, appraising eye.

Andrew's

lips suddenly brushed her ear as he leaned over close to whisper to

her, and she nearly jumped again. "The scary part's coming," he

murmured, offering his shoulder as a place for her to hide her eyes.

Ah,

this was why she loved him so. Who else would understand how much she

loved horror films; and how deeply they terrified her? Who would take

the time to go to these films first without her, then come back to see

them a second time, ready to point out all the really horrific scenes so

that she could hide her face and not be scarred beyond belief?

No

doubt he would also stay with her after the movie tonight, curled in an

uncomfortable ball on the floor next to her bed to act as her

protector. He snored and drooled and would probably sleep through the

apocalypse, but somehow having him there still made her feel better.

When

the film ended, the heroine narrowly escaping by boat as the only

survivor, Cassie and Andrew filed out into the chilly, early autumn

night. Cassie shivered, and Andrew dropped a friendly arm around her

shoulders.

"Did you like it?" Cassie asked.

"It

was alright. Definitely better this time than when I watched it by

myself. Your reactions are priceless," Andrew said with a laugh.

"I

can't help it! I jump at the jumps, I'm scared of the scary parts;

that's what's supposed to happen when you go see a horror movie!"

"I wasn't complaining. I'm amused."

"Hey, I saw you jump a little when he came out from under the shed to grab that girl's ankles."

"Strictly for your benefit. I am never scared."

"Oh?

Well, good. You can stay up and keep watch tonight. Make sure no

creepers come in my house in the middle of the night to chop me up for

their stew."

Andrew stifled a yawn, shaking his head. "An all-night vigil? Fat chance of that. You'd have to stay up with me."

Immediately,

Cassie began to think of ways she might keep him awake, each a little

more risqué than the last, and she blushed again. What was it about him

tonight that made her think such silly thoughts? He was joking with her,

being her almost-brotherly friend as he always had been. The

flirtatious edge was something she was imagining, she knew.

"Whatever

you want, just keep the monsters away from me!" Cassie cried with a

melodramatic wave of her arms. She ducked out from under his arm, darted

the last few feet to the door of his car and leapt inside.

The

drive to her house was quiet, each of them thinking their own private

thoughts in companionable silence. Once they got to the house, Cassie

began to feel again a twinge of that fear she had experienced in the

theater. The darkness, the quiet, the sense of waiting, it unnerved her

enough that she let Andrew lead the way through the front door, clinging

to his arm as if that would save her if some slasher movie antagonist

were waiting on the other side.

"I

don't want to go to sleep yet," Cassie said as they marched to her

room, Andrew turning on lights as they went. "I'm all antsy. Let's play a

game or something, huh?"

Cassie

had a grand total of three board games, one of which was nothing more

than a sticky Candy Land board, devoid of any cards or playing pieces;

there was little there with which to while away the evening hours.

"Let's play Never Have I Ever," Cassie suggested, and Andrew shrugged, his preferred signal of acquiescence.

They

sat on either end of her bed, both cross-legged, facing each other and

hugging pillows in their laps. Each of them held up all ten fingers,

ready to play.

"Never have I ever...read Hamlet," Andrew said by way of starting. Cassie shook her head.

"No, that's boring!"

"What? We always do stuff like that."

"I

know! Let's talk about something more fun than our reading lists and

bodily functions." She eyed him beadily, daring him to repeat his

disgusting scatological comments from the last time they'd played this

game.

"Like what?"

"Like..."

Cassie considered and discarded a dozen suggestions instantly, filing

them away as either too mild or far too dirty. "Like, never have I ever

kissed someone below the chin."

"Really, never?"

"Never ever."

"I'm

not putting a finger down for that. It's dumb. You can't seriously have

gotten to be nearly twenty years old and never done that."

"But I haven't!"

"Come

here. Kiss me right here on the neck, and then think of another one."

He was laughing, but he did lean forward and pull his shirt away from

the side of his neck, clearly intending for her to follow through.

With

another blush; would they never stop?; she bent and pressed her lips

quickly to the spot where his neck met his shoulder. It was brief, but

she was still pleasantly surprised by how warm his skin was there.

"Alright, now think of a better one than that," Andrew said with another laugh, sitting back.

"I can't think of anything. You say one."

"Alright, fine. Never have I ever...made out with a hot girl who was sober."

It was Cassie's turn to laugh. "Wait, how many drunk hot girls have you made out with?"

"Just one, but she was scorching."

"Oh,

prettier than me, huh?" She meant it as a joke, but her tone fell a

little short of the levity she was going for, and she ended up sounding a

great deal more jealous than she felt.

"Well, no, I mean, not prettier than you, per se..."

Cassie gave him her most dramatic look of mock-hurt. "You don't think I'm pretty, Andrew?"

"Are you kidding? You're beautiful, Cass. But you're...you know...you're Cassie."

A

jolt of something like fear, but entirely not, shot through Cassie's

stomach. He'd never said that before, that she was beautiful. True, he'd

qualified it, but at the same time...he thought she was beautiful. Her

face warmed.

"I'm

tempted to make you make out with me and pick another one, just because

you were so obnoxious about mine," Cassie said, laughing.

Andrew laughed once, but then his smile became something decidedly more inviting.

"Oh,

really? That wasn't obnoxious. I was merely pointing out that there are

things in this life that you should have done in your teenage years."

"And

making out with a girl with no alcohol involved is definitely something

you should have done. I still have another couple months before I'm out

of my teens. You've missed the boat already! Anything you do now is

necessary just to catch up."

"So

you think I should have done...this?" He rolled up onto his hands and

knees, which put his face directly in front of hers, an inch or two

away. After a pause, their lips touched, and in her surprise at the

suddenness of it she broke the kiss to suck in a startled breath.

He

backed away a couple of inches, thinking he'd startled her

unpleasantly, but Cassie followed him, leaning forward until they were

separated by a mere sliver of air. Andrew kissed her again, softly at

first, but then inspiration seemed to strike, and he sat up a little,

putting his hands on either side of her face to hold her to him. When he

finally released her, both of them were breathing a little harder, eyes

a little wide, movements a little uncertain.

"So,"

Andrew said, clearing his throat and sitting back. "So, I guess I can't

use that one anymore. Unless you've been drinking, of course?" Still

too stunned to react properly to his comic jabs, she merely shook her

head. "I thought not. You're not alcoholic enough to sneak a flask into a

movie theater. Well, is it your turn to think of one, then, or are you

going to make me go again?"

"I,

um..." Cassie shook her head a little, cleared her throat. "Well, let's

see. Never have I ever..." She thought of the moment earlier when

Andrew had pulled his shirt back from his neck, showing off the lovely,

muscled shoulders he was secretly proud of. She wondered if the rest of

him was as nice as his shoulders. "Never have I ever seen any of my

friends naked."

Andrew's eyebrows shot up. "What, you've never been in a locker room before?"

"When would I have been in a locker room?" Cassie laughed. She was not the athletic sort, as Andrew was well aware.

"Still, never? Like, you've never gone streaking, skinny dipping, changed in front of each other, anything?"

Cassie

shook her head, grinning. Andrew stood up next to the bed. "Well, I

can't let that go unchanged. Seriously, nudity among friends; it's a

rite of passage!"

He

seized the back of his shirt and tugged it over his head, dumping it

unceremoniously on the floor before going to work on his belt. Cassie

watched with a mixture of horrified amazement that he was actually

stripping naked in her bedroom, laughable discomfort because it was

Andrew, and a growing appetite for the new perspective she was gaining

on him, this thought of him as a real, handsome, sexy boy; not just her

buddy Andrew.

His

pants hit the floor and he stepped out of them, standing awkwardly in

his boxers for a moment before seizing the waistband and tugging those

down to his ankles, too. Cassie couldn't help but stare; she'd never

seen any boy totally naked, and here was a very fine specimen of man,

standing in front of her with much less self-consciousness than she

would have expected.

After a moment, he bent to pull his boxers and pants back on, but Cassie protested.

"Aw,

you're going to put it all back on?" she asked jokingly. "Here I

thought you were going to play the rest of the game that way."

Shrugging,

Andrew sat back at the end of the bed as he had been, with the notable

difference that he was now stark naked. "This hardly seems fair."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm totally hanging free here, and you're still bundled up like a nun. A little reciprocation would be fair, don't you think?"

Cassie shuddered at the idea of Andrew seeing her naked. She was self-conscious enough about seeing herself in the mirror.

But

Andrew was staring at her expectantly, and she knew he would play along

no more without this quid pro quo. She stood nervously, then pulled her

shirt up over her head, dropping it beside her. Andrew just watched,

expressionless except for his small smile, so she carried on.

Her

skirt followed her shirt to the floor, and then with a deep breath she

unclasped her bra in the back and dropped that onto the pile as well.

Without looking at Andrew, and with a face undoubtedly colored like a

beet, she slipped her panties off, sliding them down her long bare legs

and kicking them off onto the pile of discarded clothes.

Andrew's

eyes took in every inch of her nudity, and he sighed; she thought she

heard him say "Cass" under his breath. When his eyes trailed back up to

meet hers, he smiled. "And now neither of us can use that one."

Cassie sat back down, a little closer to Andrew this time, their knees touching. "It's your turn."

Andrew

hadn't taken his eyes away from her yet, and still didn't as he

answered without hesitation, "Never have I ever touched every inch of a

girl's naked body." His hands were already reaching out to touch her

shoulders, trail along her leg, cup her face. Grabbing her legs, he

pulled her farther down on the bed so that she could fit lying down

without hitting her head on the headboard. He took her face in his hands

and kissed her sweetly.

"Andrew!" Cassie cried in a voice that was half a laugh when they paused to breathe. "What are you doing?"

"Not sure yet," Andrew said absently, tucking her hair behind her ears and kissing her soundly.

Cassie

could feel her heart beating in every extremity; had she ever been able

to feel every inch of her hypersensitive skin the way she could now?

Andrew did not stop kissing her as his hands fell away from her face,

slipped down her neck and gently ran over her tits to her stomach. When

his thumbs grazed over her nipples, a shock wave ran down through her

torso, straight to that soft, dark place between her legs. She had never

been as aware of that spot as she was at that instant.

Andrew

was kneeling over her now as she lay back on the bed, and in their

mutual nudity it was impossible for him to hide his body's appreciation

of this turn of events. His erection brushed against her thigh as he

shifted, and she tensed, the unfamiliarity suddenly overwhelming her.

The kissing stopped immediately; Andrew sat back, concern on his face. "Is this okay? Are you-- I mean, is this too weird?"

"No,

no," she assured him, and she meant it. All this felt surprisingly

natural, even as quickly as it was moving; as if this was the most

obvious and right state for them to be in, and everything they had been

and done before had been awkward and unsatisfying. "Please come back."

He

acquiesced with a vengeance, the force of his kiss pinning her to the

bed as she wrapped one arm around his shoulders and grasped the back of

his neck with the other. When he suddenly moved to change positions, he

almost lifted her off the bed in his enthusiasm as she clung to him. She

admired for a moment the powerful muscles of his abdomen and lower body

when he sat up on his knees to shift, putting himself between her legs.

She

was unbelievably, overwhelmingly aroused, almost to the point of

discomfort; she could feel the slickness of her own juices between her

thighs as she moved over on the bed to center herself, and when she

spread her legs apart to give Andrew a place to kneel, the cold air of

the room was a shock on her wet flesh.

Andrew's

hands were on her hips, his thumbs tracing small circles on the skin of

her stomach as his kisses began to trail downward; along her neck,

across her collarbone, up the mound of her tit. His mouth closed over

one nipple, his tongue moving torturously slowly in a narrowing spiral

around it, ending at last in a fierce, cat-tongue lick and a small,

playful nip.

The

muscles in Cassie's stomach tightened suddenly, jerking her, forcing a

small gasp out from between her lips. Andrew smiled against her skin.

One

hand slid away from her hip, along the outside of her leg, fingers

dragging lazily across the skin of her thigh. He folded his hand so that

only his index finger pressed against her skin as he worked his way

back up, running it along between her legs as she squirmed. At length,

his finger found the already wet-slick folds of her nether lips, teasing

them apart and sliding from her clit to her drenched opening.

Her

fingers tightened on the skin of his back, her mouth dropping open; it

seemed suddenly as if there wasn't enough oxygen in the room, and the

lack made her deliciously dizzy. He pulled back from her a little,

watching her face as his finger slid up and down slowly.

She

couldn't get enough of his face, especially the tiny smile, like he had

a secret and was going to tell her in little pieces, stretched out over

the night. There was something strange and thrilling about watching him

touch her; he seemed to waver between being the Andrew she'd always

known and trusted more than anyone else in the world, and a completely

different man, surprisingly sexy, totally aware of what she wanted and

needed and ached for.

"Is this really happening?"

She

didn't realize she'd spoken the words aloud until Andrew paused in his

finger's ministrations and bent to bury his face in her neck, whispering

between kisses, "It must be, unless we're both sharing the best dream

I've ever had."

He

sat up, eyes on her body like he was trying to memorize it. His hand

started to move again, faster, his fingertip teasing her clit and

sending alarmingly powerful jolts of pleasure through her body. Her toes

and fingers were going numb in waves of tingles. She was blazing hot

inside; her skin ought to be steaming in the air of the room.

And

at the core of her, so close to his hand, she began to feel an almost

unbearable emptiness, as if he'd stolen a piece of her and he alone

could return it. She closed her eyes, concentrated. She was so empty;

she was a shell made only of feverish skin, holding nothing but this

raging inferno and a desperate, gaping vacancy.

"I need you," she breathed, her eyes slitting open to see him. "Now. Please."

He

met her eyes, his forehead creasing as he posed the silent question:

Are you sure? She was beginning to feel frantic, something akin to panic

filling her chest. Reaching up, she grasped his shoulders, letting her

urgency show in the tightness of her grip, tugging him down where he

could kiss her.

For

the length of several long kisses, he just lay against her, and Cassie

realized a new level of pleasure as she reveled in the buttery

smoothness of his skin on hers, the solidity of his muscles as he held

his weight just off of her, the unbelievable warmth between their two

bodies.

And

then she slid her hands from his shoulders to his waist, her eyes

meeting his, wordlessly begging him to end the torturous wait and take

her as they both clearly wanted. He complied eagerly, shifting, aligning

himself with her slit.

In

a moment of sober clarity, she allowed herself to realize what was

happening. This was her virginity, that part of her that was hers to

grant; she'd been holding onto this, guarding it carefully for nearly

twenty years; would she give it away here, suddenly, without pause for

thought or consideration for anything but how perfect the moment felt?

Andrew

watched her, his eyes burning with his readiness, incredible patience

on his face. She could see that he would wait until the anxiety cleared

from her face again, until she asked him again to fill that space. She

could see that he would stop altogether at a word, even with every cell

in both of their bodies calling for them to come together in every way.

Who

better to experience this with? Who would she ever trust so implicitly?

Her apprehension evaporated, and she smiled up at him. She lifted her

hips, the tip of his cock pressing against her flesh, the slit widening

to allow the head inside. He hadn't gone far when an obvious resistance

stopped their motion.

He

leaned into her harder by a fraction, and she gasped at the shock of

warning pain. It was so unlike any pain she'd ever felt; not terrible or

unbearable, just so intensely personal. Her body was shrieking,

intruder! Invader! Internal alarms everywhere were insisting that she do

something to stop this thing from entering her.

But

a larger part of her saw more clearly. This was Andrew. She wanted him

inside her. She wanted him in her and on her and against her. So she

relaxed her legs, which had tensed and tried to close. They dropped

wider suddenly, and Andrew's weight carried him into her.

Her

head jerked back of its own volition, her breath hissing out from

between her teeth as her flesh gave, tearing a path for him.

"Are

you okay?" Andrew said, concern coloring his voice and face. She held a

finger to her lips as she panted for a moment, absorbing the newness.

The

pain had flared intensely for a second or two, but it soon faded to

almost nothing; she nodded, giving him a wavering smile. Her hands

tightened on his waist and she pulled him forward, drawing him deeper

into her.

He

was stretching her, occupying her, invading completely her most

personal space. She knew, logically, that he was leaving her in control,

ready in a moment to abandon this experiment if she even hinted that it

was too much for her. But there was this helpless feeling of giving him

control of her body, granting him permission to use it however he saw

fit, that was at once frightening and luscious.

Eventually, he was fully within her, and she let out the breath she'd been holding in an airy groan, echoed by Andrew.

He

was filling her up; she could feel her skin stretched around him,

hugging his member like they were made for each other, and it was the

most perfect feeling in the world. Andrew lay down on top of her,

wrapping her up in his arms and squeezing her against his chest.

"Oh

my god," he said, and she nodded. He seemed content just to hold her,

but her hips were already moving in tiny, shallow circles without her

commanding it, her body agitating for some friction.

Every

minute movement she made was purest pleasure, making her aware of parts

of herself she had never imagined could feel this good. And then he

moved. Just a small motion, pulling himself out of her an inch or two,

but the feeling was ten times more intense than anything she'd

experienced before. Still moving slowly, he pushed back into her

completely, and a tsunami of heat and intensity crashed over her body.

Her eyes rolled into the back of her head.

"God,

Andrew, it's--" She didn't finish the sentence, as he had just thrust

into her again, but she wasn't sure how she would have finished it

anyway. English didn't have a single synonym for "good" that could

possibly be strong enough to describe this.

He

grabbed her tighter, crushing her to him, and picked up the pace,

breathing hard against her neck. She was barely aware that she was

moaning with each exhalation, releasing sound in a vain attempt to

relieve some of the pressure that was building in her with each plunge.

Suddenly,

impatiently, Andrew sat up, abruptly changing the angle of his

thrusting and setting a new, blistering pace. Cassie's moans changed

pitch as he pulled out of her almost completely, then drove his full

length back into her, every inch rubbing against that small spot inside

that sent a ripple of electricity along her spine and flooded her with

warmth. Again and again he did it, and her cries were getting more

desperate as her body began to buzz.

His

thrusts were growing wilder, his pace unmanageable. Her blood was

pounding in her veins to the beat of his hips pounding against hers. Her

vision faded to black; she thought she might lose consciousness. The

building heat and pressure was unbearable. She could never endure these

waves and waves and waves of pleasure, and her heart and lungs seemed to

be expanding so she couldn't even take in a breath. Her entire body was

so tense her muscles were screaming, and just when she thought she'd

pass out or burst into flame; she orgasmed, so hard her body was rolling

as first her back tightened and arched, then her abs jerked her

forward, repeatedly.

"Andrew!"

she half-groaned, half-screamed. There were no intelligible thoughts in

her head, just Andrew, and perfection, and pleasure beyond imagining.

He was still inside her as she shuddered around him, and the look of

almost-pain on his face became abruptly ecstasy, and then shock.

"Oh!"

he shouted, jerking his hips away from her and up so that he came on

her stomach and leg, his body tensing again and again, his mouth

dropping open and eyes drifting shut. "Oh, dear god."

He

knelt, shoulders sagging, breathing like a marathon runner after a

race, for a long moment before glancing sheepishly up at her. She

grabbed his hand in both of hers and pulled him down next to her,

kissing him with quiet intensity. They lay just like that for several

minutes, breathing in each other's faces, eyes closed, recovering.

At length, Andrew rolled onto his back next to her, putting all ten fingers in the air. "It's your turn," he said with a grin.

Cassie

laughed and put her own fingers up. She studied Andrew's flushed face

for a few seconds before speaking. "Never have I ever fallen totally in

love with my best friend."

They eyed each other, both smiling secretive, tight-lipped smiles, as they each put down a finger.

Based on a post by SmallTownPrincess, for Literotica.