Spending the weekend at your best friends house had many perks, the first one being that you got to see her... obviously. She lived an hour away from you, near the coast so you stayed with her all the time during Summer, exploring the surf beaches near her as well as doing a lot of day drinking.
Another perk though... was her older brother, Harry.
You all had grown up together but Harry was always an arms length away. The two of you tended to be a bit separate from each other, quickly growing further apart as you got older. You were super close as kids but like all of the boys you grew up with, you drifted apart and never seemed to reconnect properly, even if you spent nearly every weekend at his house.
Over the years Harry had gone through many changes. Puberty hit him like a truck and before you knew it he was no longer that awkward lanky kid, he was a tall, buff man who worked hard at the gym, building muscle and toning his incredible torso until just his physique alone made your mouth water.
Then there were his tattoos. Fucking hell his tattoos. Two detailed swallows near his collar bones, a large butterfly, or moth (you definitely wanted to get close enough to find out) right under his pecks and oh, the two ferns on either side of his v-line. He had many more, a patchwork covering his left arm as well as one on his upper thigh that you desperately wanted to see fully.
You were sick of the small glimpses you got when he wore swim shorts. You just wanted to rip his clothes off so you could see him bare, you were desperate to explore every part of him.
Yeah... you had it bad.
God, everything about him was a turn on. He towered over you in height which you loved and fuck, his hands were huge. You just wanted them to wrap around your neck and become your new favourite necklace.
It was shameful the amount of times you fantasised about it, one large hand wrapped firm around your throat while the other fingered you in hard motions, his lips brushed right against your ear as he told you how much of a good girl you were.
You could almost feel it, his hard cock pressed against your leg because the sound of his fingers fucking into your wet cunt was too much for him to bear. He'd rock into you, trying to find release before it wasn't enough and he just had to replace his fingers with his cock.
That exact fantasy was what woke you up in the middle of the night, body jolting to a sitting position, covered in a thin layer of sweat as you tried to control your frantic panting.
Your eyes drifted to the clock on the bedside table: 3:25am. You had gone to bed hours ago, the large jug of homemade sangria you drank mixed with the Summer sun knocking you and your friend out at only 9pm.
You then looked to the other side, hoping that your alarmed awakening and heavy breathing didn't wake up your friend. To your luck, she was still sound asleep, mouth wide with a small trail of drool dripping down onto the pillow.
You cracked a small smile before rubbing your hands up and down your thighs, trying to shake the achey feeling that had grown between your legs because of your dream.
Oh, the dream.
It felt way too real and got you way too worked up. You could feel your thin cotton shorts soaked against you but there was no way you could do something about it. You were horny, sure, but you definitely weren't about to masturbate in your best friends house, her family's house.
Maybe water will help, some fresh air?
Deciding that was the best option, you slowly got out of bed, careful not to wake your friend as you tip-toed out of the room and closed the door behind you. After making your way downstairs and into the kitchen, you turned on the small pendants over the island bench, not wanting to wake anyone up by having the whole room lit up.
