Mastered Read online

  Mastered

  H. L. Maxwell

  Text copyright © 2012 H. L. Maxwell

  All Rights Reserved

  I never expected to be the sort of woman who quit two jobs inside of five weeks, ate a candy bar for breakfast, or wore a man's oversized flannel to bed, but I also never expected to love having my best friend watch me lick another woman's pussy. Life can be surprising like that, sometimes.

  Chapter 1

  As the mid-day sun spilled through the windows in my bedroom and warmed the covers, I buried my head under the pillow to block out the sound of my ringing cell phone. The phone rang and vibrated simultaneously, and the way it buzzed against the wood reminded me of the way my small vibrator tickled me to the core the night before. I couldn't help but smile. Ever since I'd quit my second corporate job of filing papers and entering mundane data, my sexual appetite had been nearly insatiable. It was like a switch, and I was almost lucky I didn't have to go work; I wasn't actually sure I ever wanted to leave my bed again.

  My phone finally silent, I stretched my arms above my head and relished in the feel of my muscles pulling taught. Hearing the doorbell, I mumbled something about nuisances, grabbed a button-down off the floor, and rushed to the front door.

  Uselessly tugging the flannel down as I flung the door open, I was greeted by the welcomed sight of my best friend, Jake. We'd met in college and since then had followed each other from state to state as we both found new jobs, new lovers, new husbands and wives, and new houses after the divorces.

  “Hey sleepyhead! Still lazing about, are we?” Jake asked, jabbing me in the shoulder and winking.

  I grabbed his wrist and pushed it up to his eyes so he could take a good look at his watch. “For your information,” I said in a mock-authoritative tone, “it is only-”

  “-noon.”

  “NOON?!”

  “You got that right, darlin'. You've gone and slept your whole day away...again. Can I come in? Unless of course, it times for your nap...”

  Rolling my eyes, I stepped back and opened the door wide, waving my arm in a grandiose circle. “You may enter.”

  Sitting in the chair, his legs spread wide and his arms crossed, Jake watched me intently as I purposefully plopped down on the sofa, folding my legs beneath me.

  “So,” he began.

  “So?” I squared my shoulders and did my best impression of indignation.

  “So, it's noon,” he stated simply.

  “Yes.”

  “So, it's noon and you just woke up, Mags.”

  “...Yes.”

  He thought for a minute, taking in my defensive posture, and making a steeple with his fingers underneath his chin. “Are you still unemployed?”

  “Yes.” If he wanted an explanation for my recent bout of irresponsibility, he was going to have to work for it.

  “And...you're liking being unemployed?”

  “Well no, but-”

  “Are you still divorced?”

  “YES.” I felt my voice starting to rise, and I tried to settle down before I got too worked up.

  “And have you even been on a date since Alex? Maggie, it's been over a year. You gotta move on.”

  “Look, Jake, I-”

  “No, Mags. Listen.” He leaned forward in his chair, his arms resting on his knees. “Over these last few months, I've watched as you've lost the man you'd loved since you were sixteen, and-”

  “Seventeen, actually, but-”

  “AND, I've watched as you've gone from job to job, stopped answering calls, stopped going out, stopped interviewing. Don't take this the wrong way, darlin', but you've stopped having a spark, stopped...being you. I miss you, Mags.”

  We sat for a minute, me looking at the way he ran his fingers through his hair, a frustrated gesture he'd done for as long as I'd known him.

  “I know,” I replied, sighing and letting my shoulders slump.

  “You know?”

  “Yeah, Jake. I know. It's no mystery that I'm fucking up, okay? I know I'm not twenty-three anymore. I know I can't just flit around and sleep late and drink wine and take walks in the sun, but-”

  “But what?”

  “But I'm finally figuring out who the hell I am! I feel now. I feel...alive.”

  He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms again. “Explaaaain.”

  “I just...okay.” I could feel myself getting flustered. “For example, I like the way the sun makes my toes tingle when I lie in a perfect patch of grass. I like the way the water rivers down my back when I'm in the shower.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “And...” I hesitated, debating whether or not I should tell Jake about my recent romps in bed.

  “And?”

  “And honestly, for the first time in my life, I like how relaxed I feel after...after I, uh, get ready for bed.” I dropped my gaze to the rug in the living room, blushing at the thought of my recent extracurriculars. Jake and I may have been friends for a long time, but we'd never been those sorts of friends.

  “After you 'get ready for bed'?”

  “Yeah, you know. After I...you know.”

  “Um?” He had a smile on his lips as he leaned forward, an exaggerated look of confusion on his face. He had to have known what I was talking about, but was determined to make me say it.

  “RELEASE, Jake!” I yelled, throwing my arms in the air for emphasis. “After I...release.”

  He laughed a little, shaking his head, his eyes finally leveling on mine.“Mags, are you talking about sex?”

  “No! I mean, yes. Well, sort of. After Alex left me, Julie and Rach and I all went shopping, and I got that vibrator, you know? As a joke. Except it's not a joke because actually it feels amazing, and it's only since I've quit that last horrible job that I've finally felt like using it. I don't know why. I don't even know what made me want to!”

  I'd started rambling, and couldn't stop. “I was thinking so much, about work and Alex and our sex life and my sex life and how I've never really had one but have always wanted one, the passionate kind; the kind that leaves me sweating, and panting, and aching, you know? That kind! So now. I use my vibrator. I use it all the time. And you know what, Jake? I LOVE IT! I FUCKING LOVE IT...a lot.”

  I brushed my bangs off my forehead, suddenly aware of how hot my face felt. Clearing my throat, I leaned back and tried to calm my racing pulse. “Okay?”

  There was a silent pause that went on so long I was just getting ready to start spilling out apologies for my ridiculous outburst when Jake laughed and ran the back of his hand across the dark stubble dusting his jawline.

  “And that's what's been keeping you so...occupied?” He was clearly amused by my confession.

  I felt my cheeks burn. “Yes.”

  “Well then, little Miss Wells, it seems I've underestimated you.”

  “How do you mean?” He had a glint in his eyes I wasn't used to, but that I was pretty sure I liked.

  He stood up, his eyes first meeting with mine, then slowly trailing to the swell of my breasts, clearly visible in my haphazardly-buttoned shirt, and finally dropping to the soft hairs of my pussy as I sat with my legs tucked underneath me. Acutely aware of his stare, I quickly shifted so my legs were tightly crossed in front of me. He smiled.

  “Just be ready at 8, Mags. And be dressed to impress.”

  Chapter 2

  I spent the rest of the day primping, something I hadn't done in detail since Alex left. Hell, I hadn't primped much before he left, which could have been part of the problem. For those last few years, I had let myself feel un-pretty, and whether or not I was still in-shape and always well-kept, I knew that my bouts of low self-esteem hadn't helped my marriage.

  It was time to reclaim my confidence. I stood in the shower, feeling the heat from the str
eam hit my shoulders, run down the small of my back, and trace its way over my thighs.

  Adding more soap to my loofah, I dragged the scrubber up one arm, trailing slowly over my collar bone, just under my neck, and then down to scrape lightly against my nipples. Feeling them harden in response, I let my hand that wasn't holding the loofah, slippery with soap, glide easily along the nubs. I lightly tugged on one, then the other, as my core began to warm in response. I tilted my head back into the shower stream, letting the force of the water rub my scalp as my fingers continued to pluck at my nipples. I couldn't explain why it suddenly felt so right thinking about Jake while I played, but I knew that night was going to be fun.

  After reluctantly leaving my breasts and slowly lathering up my pussy, I spread shaving cream over my legs, and began the process of shaving my lower-half. I languidly dragged the razor up my shins, calves, and inner thighs, thinking about Jake's eyes on my center. Gently, I gently spread some shaving cream along my slit and began stroke after slow stroke, removing the hair that had always covered me.

  Sometime later, I pulled myself out of the relaxing water and deliberately dried off, applying lotion to my damp skin and reveling in the smoothness of my entire body beneath my hands.

  Then I did something I'd never done before; I walked naked through my house. I walked naked through the kitchen. I walked naked up the stairs. When I walked into my bedroom, I made sure to put an extra sway in my hips since I knew the man next door would have a perfectly clear view of my ass as I stood in front of my closet with the doors opened wide.

  I didn't have the courage to see if he was looking, but the thought of him watching me prance around, my body on display, made me reach up and cup the weight of my breasts, tugging lightly on each nipple before selecting what to wear.

  I'd always been a simple dresser. My past careers, past boyfriends, past life choices, had dictated that all I needed to get by were a few pairs of earth-toned slacks, one or two knee-length pencil skirts, practical flats, and some color-complimenting cardigans. Nothing in my closet said touch me. Nothing in my closet said I deserve to be touched. I thought about running out and getting something new, but it was already 7 and I still had to dry my hair and put on makeup. He'd said be dressed to impress, and I wasn't about to disappoint.

  Eventually, I slipped on my favorite panties, a pair of pale pink boyshorts trimmed in lace that my girlfriends had given me at my bachelorette party. I knew that some people would have considered them tame, but they were a nice step away from the cotton bikini-cuts I usually wore. Glancing at the clock, I finally conceded that while my panties may have been sexy, I didn't have many choices for my other clothes.

  Resolutely, I tugged on a simple black pencil skirt, the zipper skimming my taught sides. I paired it with a black camisole, tucking it into the top of the skirt and showing my hour-glass figure. Since I didn't have a bra to match my thin, silk panties, I went without, instead selecting a tighter camisole that pushed my breasts together and let them spill over the top.

  Needing a little something extra, I added a thin blouse to my outfit. It was a fitted number with three-quarter length sleeves, and everywhere that should have been fabric was open black lace. It was also given to me at my bachelorette party, and certainly never meant to be worn in public, but it clung to my body perfectly.

  Closer to eight, after curling my hair loosely so it draped in big, auburn waves past my shoulders, the ends lightly teasing the tops of my breasts, I began carefully applying my eye-makeup. I'd never been one for makeup, instead opting for light blush and a little mascara to bring out my green eyes, but tonight called for something different.

  Adding a little smokey sparkle to my lids to match the mock-diamond chandelier earrings, I lined my lashes with a coal-black pencil and emphasized my eyes with a coat of mascara. I looked like someone who knew what they wanted, and while I actually had know idea what that might be, I tossed my hair over my shoulder and decided that night was going to be about new experiences. I decided that night was going to be about me.

  I was just pulling on a pair of black high-heels, (the only pair I owned), when the doorbell rang. Reaching the door, I paused for a second, took a deep breath, and smoothed the front of my skirt before opening it.

  Jake looked up from his hands and took in my outfit. “Oh, wow.”

  I smiled in a way that I hoped hid my nervousness.

  “Nervous?” he asked.

  I laughed. “A little.”

  He stepped forward and lightly cradled my elbow. “Mags, it's just me. We're just. Us. Okay?”

  “Us?”

  “Y'know,” he said with a cheeky grin. “Mags and Jake. We've road-tripped together, and gone through divorces together, and once in college, I'm pretty sure we threw up in the same toilet together. Do you remember?”

  I giggled, thinking about waking up in the bathroom the next morning, both of us needing some water and an aspirin.

  “To this day,” he continued, “you're still the only girl I've met who looks gorgeous with a hangover.”

  I blushed again at his silly compliment, letting my eyes fall to his pressed black button-down and fitted black slacks, all topped off with a tailored suit jacket. There was a perfect leather belt circling his trim waist, and I couldn't help but be impressed. “Jake, you're wearing pants.”

  “Um?”

  “You never wear pants. Well, real pants. I don't think I've ever seen you in something other than khakis and jeans and a t-shirt.”

  Putting a finger under my chin and forcing my eyes up to his, he said, “Well, Mags, maybe it's just that you haven't been looking.”

  “So!” he said, after clearing his throat, “ready to get some grub?” He waggled his eyebrows and bopped me on the nose with his finger, a Jake gesture if I'd ever seen one. Grabbing my purse off the living room end-table and shutting off the lights, I closed the door behind me and tried to prepare myself for what was coming.

  Chapter 3

  Seated in his car, a local classic rock station played softly in the background as Jake hummed the tune and tapped his thumb against the steering wheel. Finally relaxed, I took a minute to just look at him. He was right before; we'd been friends for so long, but I'd always been busy worrying about every minute detail of my life that I never stopped to just appreciate him as a friend, or as a person, or as a man.

  His dark hair gently tousled, I let my eyes travel downward to his square jaw, scruffy with just enough stubble to make me wonder how it'd feel dragging along my inner thigh. I felt my pussy tingle, and began to rethink wearing the silk if I was going to keep thinking about Jake and his stubble and his mouth so close to my-

  “Mags?”

  “Yeah?” My voice cracked a little, and he laughed.

  “You doing okay, darlin'? You seem quiet.”

  “No, I'm fine. Just thinking.”

  “Well that's never good,” he joked, his hand reaching across the center console to squeeze my thigh playfully. “Mmm,” he said softly. “You're so smooth.”

  I stared at his hand, his long fingers resting easily on my knee, and I couldn't help but be amazed by how comfortable he was with touching me. More than that, I couldn't help but be amazed by how very much I wanted it.

  “Look, Mags,” he said, his eyes never leaving the road, “tonight's going to be...an adventure.”

  “An adventure?” I squeaked, as his thumb traced small circles on the inside of my thigh, the circles slowly getting larger, and his thumb slipping farther and farther up my skirt.

  “Yes. You see, I've wanted this for a long time.” His entire hand begin to slip upwards, his knuckles brushing well past the hem of my skirt.

  “Have you now?”

  “Mmhmm. And today, after you, uh, opened up to me, I decided that I want to help you.”

  “Help me?”

  His fingers were inches from my pussy, and all I could think about was shifting lower in my seat so they'd brush against my mound. “Do you always ask so many
questions?” he teased, letting his thumb glide just below my cunt, stroking the soft skin of my inner thigh.

  “I want to help you explore. I want to help you explore yourself,” he continued, his thumb finally sliding lightly over the silk of my panty-clad pussy, “and your sexual side,” he said, his thumb hooking under the lace trim, slowly dragging back and forth and lightly brushing my cunt, “and us.” His thumb finally delved deeper, gently brushing against my swollen clit as I involuntarily arched to meet him. “Hmm...you're much smoother than this morning. And wetter, by the feel of it.”

  He looked over for the first time since the conversation began, taking in my curved back, breasts pushed out, my thighs spread wide, and winked. “But, if at any point you want me to stop,” he continued, his finger flicking back and forth against my clit, “please just let me know. I definitely don't...” He stopped to let his thumb slide lower, slipping into my pussy. “...want to...” His thumb pumped slowly in and out, and I could feel my cunt stretching slightly as I rocked my hips against his hand. “...make you feel uncomfortable.”

  With that, he pulled his hand away completely as we eased up to a red light. Looking over at me, he slowly sucked his thumb into his mouth, looking intently at my face, flushed with want. “Okay?” he asked.

  I exhaled loudly. “Okay.”

  As the light turned green, I smoothed down my hair and straightened my skirt, crossing my legs at the ankle in what I hoped was a demure position. “Hey, Jake?”

  “Yeah, Mags.”

  “Who are you?”

  All he could do was chuckle.

  Chapter 4

  If someone had told me that Jake would go from giving me a hard time about quitting my second job in two months to having his fingers buried inside of me while we drove to dinner, I would've laughed. However, as I watched Jake gently suck my wetness off his thumb in the dark of the car, giggling was the furthest thing from my mind.

  “I never thought I'd get to say this,” Jake began with a smile, “but you taste as good as you look.”

  I honestly couldn't breathe for fear of begging him to touch me. That man, that teasing, gorgeous, confident man was my closest friend. I'm not sure how I missed the memo that he was a little bit of a sex god, but as the night progressed, I would find out just how truly naughty Jake could be.