Monday 29 October 2012

Best Friends - a short story

Written in March 2010. Wordy and rambling as I am, I struggle to keep to word limits or avoid over doing description, so a writer friend suggested I practice writing short stories. After a few attempts at flash fiction (with a 500 word limit) I ended up writing this randomly one night. It certainly is not a fantastic bit of fiction, but I have decided to share it nevertheless.
 

Best Friends
 
“Why has it taken us so long to do this?! We haven't just chilled out and had a catch up in so long!” she exclaimed collapsing on the sofa smiling at her old friend.

            “I know,” he replied. “I guess we just became so busy... life got in the way of living!”

            “Life should never get in the way of living! We have to do this more. Just meet up, relax, talk about old times and forget the world. For a couple of hours, we can be the only two people alive. That's how it used to be, right? Me and you; no-one else got a look in.”

            “I know, it was fun. But I guess back then...”

            “What is with all your guesses?! Stop guessing and start knowing what you want!”

            He rested his tilted head on his hand and gazed at her for a moment. He knew that face so well. The crooked smile. The tiny gap between her front teeth. The faded scar near her left ear. The freckles on her nose which only showed up properly in the sun. All his life he had know that face, that laugh, the twinkle in those eyes. She had been his best friend for so long, yet they barely saw one another anymore

            “Can you guess what I want?”

            The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end under his intense gaze. A cold finger ran down her spine as she felt her blood warm. His deep brown eyes had hers locked in place, drowning in a dark chocolate pool of something that could only be called Desire. Her stomach tightened as he inched closer to her.

            “I want,” he murmured quietly, “to...”

            She bite her lip as he moved up the sofa. He was close enough for her to feel the warmth radiating off his smooth, tanned skin.

            “...tickle you.”

            “What?”

            Before she could register it, he was bent over her, tickling her ribs in just the right spot to have her crippled. An involuntary scream issued itself as her body automatically tightened up to protect itself against the onslaught.

            “Ahhhhhhheeeeeeeee,” she screeched, laughing as she tried to fend him off. “Yooooouuuu giiiiit!”

            They laughed and yelled as the play fighting continued. Finally, laughing too hard at her high-pitched yelps, he backed off to catch his breath. As her body unfroze from its protective tension, she launched herself at her unsuspecting friend. Grabbing the only cushion that hadn't been tossed to the floor in the scuffle, she started to beat him with it.

            “Ahhhh! No fair!” he cried as she forced him back against the arm of the sofa. “No weapons allowed!”

            They both giggled and panted as he tried to grab the cushion from her hands. Holding it out of his reach, she used her body to pin him down. Finally, her laughing became so hard that she gave up and collapsed upon his chest gasping for air. Shaking with his own chuckles, he wrapped his arms around her and stretched himself out upon the dishevelled sofa.

            “Truce!” he mumbled into her cascade of curls as she rested her head on his shoulder.

            Her hair smelt of strawberries. Had it always smelt of strawberries? Without realising it he was burying his face in her auburn locks and drawing in deep breaths of the fruit scented hair. In her attempt to pin him down, she had straddled him, and he now felt her toned thighs locked around his own, her long, hot body pressing down. His arms were loosely encircling her, his hands resting on the middle of her back. Somehow, her tee-shirt had risen up, so that the little finger of his left hand was touching her supple skin. Should he? He couldn't. He did. That hand, as if with a life of its own, slowly moved down her spine so that it rested upon that bare, warm skin.

            She felt the change in his body, the tension building as his hand slipped down her back. His touch was so soft and gentle, yet it seemed to burn her deeply. Without realising it, she curved her spine slightly, thrusting her body into his. She felt his body's response. Her heart started to race as this time she shifted her weight in a more deliberate fashion. She felt him straining against her. Pressing herself against him hard, she reached out for him as his hands slid down her body and gripped her pert bottom, pulling her to him with a deep hunger. Finally she raised her head and looked down upon him. His brown eyes were burning now with a hot passion. He moistened his lips as he stared up at her wanton gaze.

            The mobile was vibrating for a few moments before either of them noticed. Her lips looked so juicy, so red. Phone? Phone. He looked wildly around and saw his mobile sat on the coffee table next to the old photos she had got out earlier for them to laugh over. School pictures. Baby pictures. All the memories from a childhood long gone. Phone. Grabbing it, he looked up at that familiar face once more.

            “It's the wife. I had better take it."

1 comment:

  1. The descriptions are a bit boring. But there is something sexy and evocative about this story. and I like the twist at the end

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