I’d Go Gay For You Ch. 03

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Author’s note: When I started this series, I thought I’d stop at the first chapter but all of your kind words and requests for more made me cave once, and now twice. The big challenge in this series is finding a way to move the story forward realistically while staying true to the characters that you all loved. I believe I managed to do that again here.

For now, my intention is to end this series here, but who knows? I keep saying that then I have a short light bulb moment that shows me the way forward, and I can’t stop myself from writing the next part. We’ll see, no promises.

Heads-up for my regular readers: this story is more explicit than my regular style. You’ll see that the situation dictated that. However, many of you liked my writing because it was less explicit than average, so I’d love to have your feedback on whether or not you are ok with this new direction, or if you prefer the previous ones. Please comment or send me a message with your thoughts.


I had almost run out of her apartment to my car. She wanted to take things slow and I agreed, but at one point during that long kissing session, I started teetering on the edge of the abyss, ready to jump and praying she would catch me.

She had straddled me like she suggested earlier, but when I agreed to her proposition, I hadn’t taken into account the fact that she would be almost sitting in my lap, grinding rhythmically to every kiss, with her jeans rubbing so deliciously on mine. I hadn’t thought of how impossible it would be to stop my hand from slipping between us, looking to touch her and see if she was as hot and drenched as I was. And I hadn’t anticipated how intoxicating it felt to be beneath her or how powerless she would make me.

For over an hour, I relinquished all control and let her take the reigns, and what a beautiful surrender that was! But when I sensed her hands run across the bare skin below the hem of my t-shirt, as I stared deep into the abyss and saw myself free-falling, I caught my footing and shook myself out of this euphoric state of abandon and stopped her.

The way she looked at me then, like a kid who just dropped his ice cream scoop and was left with an empty cone, almost made me remove my hands and let her take advantage of me. But I had to be stronger. This wasn’t a one-night stand or a quickie in the bathroom of a bar. This was Kate, my Kate, my best friend. We weren’t ready yet.

“Not yet,” I whispered against her neck and kissed her there. If she was so soft and addictive on the outside, I couldn’t help but imagine how smoother and tastier she would be on the inside.

“Uhm, you’re right.” She took her hands from below my shirt and looked at them as if she didn’t know where to put them or what to do with them now that they couldn’t touch me anymore. For a few seconds, I followed her confusion until she eventually settled on reclining back and dropping them on her thighs.

“I should probably leave.”

She was staring at me with what I would later call her “horny face”, eyelids slightly dropped, pupils dilated, with pure adrenaline and endorphins almost jumping out of her eyes. I wondered whether my own face betrayed my arousal as much as hers did and if she could sense how difficult it was for me to control that.

She suddenly jumped and was in front of the sofa on her two feet. She extended her hand to me and as she was pulling me up, I felt my knees wobble and had to hold onto her to stop myself from falling.

She laughed and after she helped me steady myself, she brought her forehead to mine and stared deep into my soul. She used a quasi-hypnotizing voice to speak the next words.

“You’re standing on the ground now. I’m going to let you go. You’ll have to use your legs to stay steady.” She grinned and brought our hips closer. “Remind me to get you a cane or a wheelchair if we go further next time.” She kissed me quickly on the lips and let me go.

I smiled and summoned all my strength to pick up my purse and walk as fast as I could out of the door.

The drive home was short and uneventful, thankfully. My senses were alert but they weren’t focused on the road. I wasn’t thinking nor was I replaying the scenes. There was just an overwhelming sensation of pressure, as if I was under water, and my ears were ringing loudly.

Everything came crashing the moment I stood in front of my apartment’s door. I couldn’t believe that I had left a few hours earlier, with a deep secret and no intention to even reveal it to myself. Yet here I was, standing in the same spot and nothing would ever be the same. I still had trouble convincing myself that this had just happened. I had kissed Kate, tasted the delicacy that is her tongue, let my hands wander for a long time on the velvet of her skin. And the best part? She had kissed me back, she had shared my fears, my anticipation and my attraction.

“I broke up with Sam,” I said matter-of-factly. I leaned against the hallway wall facing my apartment’s door, dropped my head sideways and held the phone there with my shoulder. My hands went Ataşehir escort into my jeans pockets and I started toying with the inner fabric, a nervous habit.

“I broke up with Tim,” she answered with as much detachment in her voice as I had felt in mine.

I should have been sad, or at least guilty, but I wasn’t. I didn’t even remember how the conversation went, just that I called Sam when I parked my car and it was over quickly. It was the appropriate thing to do, given that I had just spent an hour kissing someone else.

“Are you O…” We asked simultaneously and then started laughing.

“I’m standing outside my apartment. I can’t open the door because that would mean this night is over and I’m going back.” I confessed.

“So open it while you’re talking to me. That way, the night doesn’t end at the door. That way, I go inside, with you.” I chuckled and she instantly understood why. “We’re back to the dirty jokes now, eh?”

“Told you I’m good at taking it both ways.”

“So this is how it’s going to be? You will always spin everything that comes out of me?” Despite this conversation taking place on the phone, I could clearly see her smile with a twinkle in her eyes.

This playful banter was just a facade we were both putting up to forget how crucial these moments were, but it was just as important to keep things light. We could have a tedious conversation discussing our hopes and fears, where and how fast we wanted this new relationship to progress, share some tears and hugs and eventually make out sweetly while holding hands. We could also tumble on top of each other, disregarding any common respect or emotion, and jump feet and hands first into an intensely physical relationship. But those possibilities weren’t us. They didn’t fit us.

The wordplay, the mischievous back and forth of spicy jokes felt more authentic to our friendship and dynamic. It was us playing it safe, keeping an opening for a U-turn should things blow in our face. It’s not that we needed a two-way ticket — we never wanted to go back to being just friends — but we had to at least provide each other with that option.

It was also our way of moving ahead while not plunging too fast, gauging each other without getting too emotional, respecting the sanctity of what we had while still flirting with the promise of a better future. There would be a time when we’d have to be too serious, too touchy-feely, or too horny, but that wasn’t this moment. Now, we needed the light quips that maintained the illusion of simplicity.

And I had to keep playing the game so I followed with a paltry, “Comes out of you, goes into you, I wouldn’t mind spinning it. But it’s not like you need my help flipping things around.”

She chuckled. “Well, I always say there’s a certain advantage when you come from a different perspective.” She was definitely getting better at this game, with replies hitting me before I even had time to recuperate from the last ones.

I had to reclaim the winning hand so I decided to change the rules and even the playing field. “Kate,” I whispered, “is that an invitation?”

She didn’t reply instantly, and I knew I now held the cards in my hand. Her answer was serious. “That took me by surprise.”

“Trust me, when I take you, you’ll see it coming,” I blurted quickly and laughed heartily.

“Is that a promise?” She asked sternly, unfazed by my trick or the fact that I had just one-upped her.

I fell silent and nodded, not even realizing that she couldn’t see me. She didn’t need to.

“Open the door.”

I obeyed without a word, knowing she could hear the keys turning and the door squeaking open and closed.

“Hi,” she said, in that same earthy tone that tickled me in all the right spots.

“Hi.” A few seconds of silence passed as I got into my room, sat on my bed, and relished hearing her voice again, yet as if for the first time. “I was afraid it was an illusion.”

I could almost hear her smile, “no.” The command in her voice was gone, her split-second of bravery was now showing cracks of vulnerability.



“I don’t want to scare you off but I already miss you.”

“I already miss you too.” I heard a break in her voice that betrayed the depth of her emotions. “I miss you so much I’m actually sitting on the sofa, in the imprint you left.” She took a second to reassess her words and asked, “does that sound creepy?”

“It’s flattering, actually.”

“If I close my eyes, it’s almost as if you are here… Almost. There’s your scent in the air and the sofa is hot, it’s still hot from your body.”

“Well, I did indeed get very hot.”

“Oh, tell me more.” Her voice trailed, in a barely perceptible manner that left me wondering where this conversation was headed. “How hot were you?”

There was an undertone I had never heard before, a dark and deep one that left me perplexed and excited. Was this what she sounded like when she got aroused?


“Did I make you get that hot?”

She had taken the reigns of Ümraniye escort bayan the conversation, but I was the one in charge. Her whole plan relied on my cooperation so I let her enjoy that illusion of dominance and went with the flow. “Yes.”

“Did you get wet?”

I flinched at the word, and immediately noticed the effect it had on me. As if she had activated a secret biological pathway between my ears and my inner parts, I felt the blood rush lower, transforming into a flood of liquid that seeped out of me and settled on my underwear. A new sensation.

“Yes. I was wet for you, Kate.”

“Was?” She sounded like a disappointed parent scolding their child.

“Am,” I quickly corrected.

“You are what?” She asked, with a disturbing mix of innocence and playfulness.

“I am wet for you, Kate.” Again, the sensation coursed within me, my lower lips contracted and I felt more of my juices pooling between my legs. I wanted to sigh but I couldn’t. The air had left my lungs and I was barely able to breathe as it is. Her voice was wrecking havoc in my brain and body, and this conversation was quickly spinning out of control. I couldn’t stop it. And I didn’t want to stop it.

“I am drenched,” she admitted, and the roles shifted again.

“Kate?” I secretly knew the effect that repeating her name had on both of us. It kept this conversation real and by doing so, it made it even more exciting.

“You know the way you say my name makes me wetter?”

“Kate,” I repeated and heard her breath catch, “are you touching yourself?”

“A little,” she answered as if she got caught with her hands in the proverbial cookie jar.

“I’m going to need more details.”

“I am still dressed, and my hand is over my clothes but my palm is against my…”

“Is it against your pussy, Kate?” My voice hitched at the end of the question.

I had never, in my entire life, used that word, thinking it was crude and offensive. But when I said it then, I owned it. It was appropriate and naughty, direct and suggestive. And that made it all the more effective. Every sentence now, especially that one, acted like an additional trigger for my arousal. I couldn’t hold much longer before I had to start touching my own… pussy.


“Take off your clothes,” I ordered. To hell with taking it slow, there was no way I was stopping and hanging up now. My brain wasn’t in charge anymore, the blood was somewhere else in my body and that part was making all the decisions.

“OK.” I heard a ruffle and then the distinct sound of a zipper being lowered. Then there was sudden silence and I waited with baited breath for her next move. “I want you to see me, the first time I undress for you.” She was genuinely sad. “We should stop.”

I didn’t want this conversation to end, it was exciting, promising and fun. The anticipation had every nerve in my body wired for extreme sensitivity and I was too far gone to turn around.

I might have acted selfishly and carelessly then, I might have used my upper hand to manipulate her, but I couldn’t control my impulse. “If I hang up now, are you going to do it by yourself?”


“How is that better? I want to be with you, I want to share this moment with you. This isn’t a dirty deed you do alone, in the dark. This is ours, and it’s too beautiful and too genuine to be kept a secret. I want to make you happy, it doesn’t matter if it’s over the phone or in person. I want to hear your breath and feel your excitement and guide your touches and take you over the edge. I want to be here when you scream and I want to scream with you. Don’t take it away from me, Kate, this is ours.”

I heard the ruffles of her pants and shirt being taken off and thrown nearby.

“You are gorgeous,” I whispered.

“How can you tell?” she asked, almost innocently.

“I don’t need to see you to know. You are beautiful. And right now, you are naked, and horny,” I added without flinching, “for me. This makes you infinitely more gorgeous. I couldn’t ask for more.”

“Will you undress for me too?”

“Anything you want.” I stood up and was about to take off my shirt.

“Stop,” she ordered. My heart started beating fast and I waited anxiously for her next move. “I had my hands on your waist, under your shirt, when you stopped me. You know how much I wanted to move them up or down? I was practically salivating at the idea. Take my hands higher. Let them dance on your chest, beneath your shirt. I want to enjoy that moment of forbidden touches, knowing you’re letting me reach under your armor.”

The eloquence of her speech mesmerized me and took possession of the hand on my chest. It was no longer mine, it was hers, and I became nothing but a vehicle for her will.

“Slip my hands under your bra, let them graze your nipples, touch the tip and then squeeze the base. I want to feel you shudder.”

My trembles were betrayed by my voice, “careful, I’m going to bite your neck.”


“What did you want to do next?”

“Take off your Escort Bostancı shirt and unhook your bra now. Let me lick and taste every inch of your breasts.”

I followed her orders and trailed my fingers across my body, pretending, and believing, that it was her mouth kissing me. I laid back on the bed and breathed deeply into the phone. “Take off my pants, Kate. I need you to touch me.”

“Shhhhh. You’ll do as I say. Do you trust me?”

“With my life,” I answered honestly.

“I only want your orgasm now,” she chuckled, “but that’s good to know. Do you promise to follow my instructions to the letter?”


“OK then. Let me take off your jeans.” I raised my hips, unbuttoned the pants and slipped quickly out of them.

“What color are your panties?”

“White. I didn’t know this was happening when I got dressed earlier tonight.”

“I love white panties. You can easily see the wet spots on them. Is there a spot on yours?”

I didn’t need visual confirmation but still, I raised my head and stared at the crotch. The dark stain got bigger under my observation, with more of my juices rushing to join the river that was now flowing out of me. “It’s huge,” I admitted.

“I’m going to slip my hand under the hem of your panties. The tips of my fingers move slowly until they cup your whole pussy. Then I start rubbing my entire palm against you. Once, twice, three times, ten times.”

“Please, Kate.”

“My index gets apart from the rest of the fingers, trails up and down your slit, tickling every nerve on your outer lips. Will you let me in?”

“Yes,” I agreed instantly.

“My index parts your outer lips, touches their inner edge and continues doing nothing but up and down movements across them. Then, gradually, it gets closer to the middle, the highway of nerves and slick flesh between them. It touches your right inner lip and walks up until it reaches the right side of your clit, without directly touching it. Then it goes from your left inner lip until it reaches the left side of your clit. Also no direct contact.”

“No clit?” I begged.

“No clit yet,” came the answer.

I panted on the phone, my breath barely finding a tiny conduit to enter and leave my lungs. Every drop of blood, every conscious thought, every molecule of oxygen, every feeling and every shiver were concentrated in that tiny part of my body. I was nothing and no one. I was shattered into pieces and none of them mattered but that small patch of tender and slippery skin that she was playing with.

“My finger goes lower again, this time parting your inner lips, entering a little bit, taking some of your juices and spreading them up until it reaches your clit. It rubs slowly up and down across your clit, three times… Enjoy every second, every touch, every small and big sensation. My finger goes back into your pussy, takes more of your juices and comes back up again. This time, it rubs in very, very slow circles across your clit, three times, again… It’s slow, thorough, it reaches every cell and every nerve on your clit… Then it goes back down and repeats. Pussy, three up-and-down movements, pussy, there circles, all while getting more of your juices spread.”

“This is torture,” I hissed, a couple of minutes later.

“I am doing it too,” she confessed, with a ragged breath and without the commanding voice.

She knew that would make me obedient while also accentuating the impact of every word she was saying. The thought that she also had her finger following the same instructions was too sexy and powerful and I just had to get my release.

She guessed my tactic and switched back into her dominant character, “slowly, I said. I want you to enjoy every moment, every twitch. You are not sprinting for that orgasm, you are hiking across a beautiful pathway, and every step you take brings a different scenery and a different experience. Are you enjoying the scenery?”

“Yes, Kate.”

“My finger never does more than three times of each movement. It leaves your clit and goes inside you every time you are getting close. Let the sensations rise. Let the orgasm build up… How close are you?” As if she needed a confirmation!

“Very, very close,” I managed to say between gasps and sighs. My very being was dismantling beneath the touches of that finger, her finger, the one she possessed and controlled now.

“The next time I go up for your clit, I don’t stop at three movements. I keep rubbing it, but still slowly. I want to feel your body rise to meet my hand, your lips contract against my fingers, I want to be the tremble that starts coursing in you and the rush that precedes your release. Let yourself go. Come to me… Cum for me.”

And just like that, I was undone. Spasms ran through me, shattering me into billions of solitary cells and molecules. “Kaaaaaaate!” I screamed, shivers filling my entire body and being. Then there was suddenly peace and the tension in my muscles that was holding me up disappeared. Just as I collapsed on the bed, I heard her moan loudly. The sound she made, that guttural voice, was the most primal and beautiful thing I had ever heard. It rang through my ears, traveled through my body and ended in the junction between my finger and my clit that I hadn’t broken yet. I shivered and came again, quickly, peacefully, smiling and prideful.

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