Best Friends to Lovers Vol I-VI

Seduced by 2-1

Seduced by 2

“Babe, is it alright? I told Foster he could come over later, for a few beers,” Max asked in my ear, in a low, soothing voice.

We were snuggled together on the couch watching a movie. His hand was absently stroking my arm. He must have felt me tense a bit at the mention of his friend’s name, because he backpedalled.

“I can call him back and tell him it’s not a good night,” he trailed off in a pseudo-question.

Foster was Max’s amazingly beautiful best friend. The kind of male beauty that made him nearly blinding to look at – seriously, like weak in the knees, stammering, gibbering i***t beautiful. I could never relax when he was around. He made me anxious and self-conscious.

It didn’t even matter that he seemed like a really great guy, he just made me nervous. I felt guilty for my reaction. I loved Max so much. He was my life, but lord I had some impure thoughts about his best friend, really, really indecent thoughts.

“No babe, that’s OK. Invite him over. You two never get to hang out. I feel like I’m monopolizing your time. I don’t want to be that girlfriend… The one that steals you away and cuts you off from everyone who means something to you because I’m jealous of your time and your attention.”

I leaned into him, giving him a squeeze and a quick kiss. “Have a boy’s night.”

“Mai…Maya,” began Max. “I want you to be there,” he pleaded. He turned me to face him squarely, looking me in the eyes and giving my upper arms a soft squeeze. “Foster’s my best friend and I feel like you two don’t get along, or like you avoid him for some reason. You two are my favorite people in the universe. I want – no I need – you to get along with each other.”

Panic.

How was I supposed to interact and function while Foster was around? Just the sight of him brought a blush to my cheeks and instantly made naughty thoughts pop into my head. It made me feel so awful and so guilty, and I definitely didn’t want Max to see that. He didn’t deserve that. I would have to find a way; it clearly meant so much to Max. I had to do it.

I pasted a smile on my face, though inside I was quaking. “Great,” I said. If Max could sense the falseness in my overenthusiastic tone, he didn’t let on. “That sounds great. I can’t wait.”

I am going to hell.

I gave Max my best innocent doe eyes. He leaned in with a smile and gave me a deep, lingering kiss that soothed my frayed nerves and made my body begin to tingle. He pulled away just as I wanted him to claim much more, then came the sound of the doorbell and the front door being pushed open.

“Hello?” A deep, melodic, voice sounded from the front of the house. “Is everybody decent?”

Not nearly, I thought, as my n*****s perked up and the blood slowly pooled to my clit at the sound of his voice.

Foster’s beautiful voice.

He was the singer and lead guitarist in a local band that was doing pretty well. They had a fairly big following – it wasn’t all horny girls either - they were actually good, in a dark, indie rock sort of way that reminded me a bit of Interpol, or maybe Echo and the Bunnymen.

My palms went sweaty and my mouth a bit dry as he found us in the living room. He popped his head in with a wide, charismatic, grin. “What’s up kids?”

“Hey Foster,” Max smiled back, waving him in. “Long time no see, buddy, what’s n—oooh, beer!” Max broke off mid-thought, mesmerized by the drinks, “and whiskey too!! Good man!” grinned Max.

“Yeah, I brought a few refreshments,” Foster affirmed, then sat down right next to me on the couch.

Gulp, I was now sandwiched between Max and Foster. “Hi Foster,” I said a bit shyly. “Good to see you again.”

“Good to be seen,” Foster said, surprising me by leaning in to give me a friendly kiss on the cheek.

My hand reflexively came up to rest on his ribcage.

Sweet Jesus, I think I’m in shock!

I blinked as the realization that Foster’s lips had just touched my cheek hit my brain.

And holy f**k! His flesh felt fantastic.

Even through the fabric of his tee, I could feel the supple, corded muscle. It was a struggle not to slide my hand along it. I pulled my hand back quickly, taking a shaky breath and scootching into Max a bit.

“How about a shot, pretty Maya?” asked Foster, twisting the cap off a fresh bottle of nice Irish whiskey.

“Umm, sure,” I replied, biting my lip a bit nervously. Foster slid the mouth of the bottle towards my lips as if to pour a shot into my mouth.

He must have seen my quizzical expression, because he winked at me and said, “We’re all friends here.” Just as Max also said, “No need to waste glasses.”

I hesitantly opened my mouth as Max placed a kiss at my temple and rubbed my arms reassuringly from behind. I think he could tell this was making me nervous.

The bottle gently touched my lips and Foster tilted it up, pouring the searing liquid into my mouth. It was too much. I had to close my lips to swallow before it started overflowing. I gulped it down, coughing and lightly spilling some down my jaw as Foster pulled the bottle away.

“Oops, sorry Maya.” Foster grinned as his free hand shot out to wipe the excess off my face. His thumb slid over my jaw, just as the burn of the whiskey hit my belly turning my insides molten. He lifted his thumb to his full sensuous lips and sucked the whiskey off of it.

What the f**k??? I think my brain is about to short circuit from the sight of that. I can’t believe he just did that in front of Max. What the hell is going on?

“Give it here,” demanded Max, holding his hand out to Foster for the bottle.

Foster took a swig first then handed it over. His tongue slid out to lick the top of the bottle as his eyes met mine, before setting his lips over it, tilting his head back and taking a healthy swig.

It felt like flames were licking my insides. I could feel my cheeks heat up. Why was he playing with me like this? And with Max right there?

Foster handed the bottle over to Max leaning in closely over my body as he did so, and placing a hand on my shoulder for balance - and my god did he smell good! I could feel the outline of each individual finger on my shoulder where his hand practically singed my flesh.

“I brought a movie over,” Foster said sitting back up straight, his hand still burning a hole through my shoulder. “I think you guys will like it,” he chuckled a bit. “It’s got a killer soundtrack.”

Foster got up and walked over to the DVD player, and I tried – and failed miserably – not to look at his tight, firm ass, encased in worn but well-fitting jeans.

I snapped out of my misbehavior when Max held the whiskey in front of me and said, “Take another swig Mai.” I needed it. I took the bottle from Max and downed a good-sized portion of whiskey, just as Foster finished inserting the movie and came back over to the couch.

He reached out for the bottle of whiskey and I handed it to him. His fingers slid over mine as he took it from me, a small smirk sliding over his features.

“Somebody’s messy,” he said, and I could not look away as his tongue came out to swipe the side of the bottle, licking the dripping whiskey from it. My eyes flew to his throat to watch him swallow as he poured another shot down it.

Foster leaned back over me again to give the bottle back to Max. He cracked a couple of beers, handed one to me then sat back, even closer than before.

Too close.

I could feel the heat and electricity emanating from his body. I was so nervous that I was trembling, and my breathing was becoming erratic. I needed to get my s**t together. Being this close to Foster, and his odd flirting, was really disconcerting.

“What’s a matter babe?” asked Max in a solicitous tone. “Are you cold?” he asked pulling me back against his chest and sliding his hot hands up and down my arms. “Why don’t you put your feet up?” he continued without giving me a chance to answer. “Foster will rub your feet. Its fine,” he said, sensing my hesitation he added. “Foster gives amazing foot rubs. Don’t you buddy?”

In answer, Foster reached down to grab my feet and pull them into his lap, sliding his beautiful guitarist’s hands over my sock clad feet.

I chugged on my beer, hoping it would provide me with some liquid courage.

Foster’s gaze scanned the room and came to rest on a bottle of lotion sitting on the coffee table. “Ah,” he exclaimed, reaching out for it, then dropping it on the couch next to him, before sliding my socks off.

His hands slipped under the hem of my pants searching for the tops of my socks. He c****d a brow at me quizzically when he was unsuccessful.

I giggled. Giggled? Wow, the alcohol must be hitting me pretty fast. I hadn’t had much to eat today.

Foster’s nimble fingers began sliding my pants legs up, and up, and up. I had over-the-knee socks on, a luxurious cashmere argyle. His hands stroked over them. I saw his eyes widen slightly. I think Foster was a fan of my socks.

He shifted in his seat, settling the arch of my foot over his hard groin. It caused me to catch my breath in nervous shock, and avert my gaze.

He reverently began to peel the socks down my calves as if nothing was out of the ordinary. “Those are some great socks,” he said, pulling them off of my feet and running his fingers over my smooth legs – thank god I’d shaved.

“I’ll start the movie,” Max said, pausing the hands that were still sliding over my arms long enough to grab the remote and press play. “What are we watching?” he asked Foster as his hands moved to my shoulders, rubbing the tension out of them.

“It’s called ‘9 Songs’,” replied Foster as he rubbed lotion between his palms. “It’s kind of an art-house porn,” he admitted sheepishly. “But the live bands and the songs make the movie brilliant.”

I felt his lotion-covered hands slide over my sensitive feet. I gasped at the ticklish contact, trying not to kick. I took another large swig of my beer.

“Is somebody ticklish?” asked Foster with a wicked grin, as he slid a fingertip up the middle of the bottom of my foot. My foot shot out involuntarily, catching him solidly in the thigh, as I let out a screech.

Max chuckled behind me as he devilishly poked his fingers into my armpits and began to torture me. I was screaming for them to stop, flailing my arms and kicking my feet, completely out of control, and laughing. “Stop! Stop! Stop! Please!!” I begged them. My belly started to ache from laughter as they grabbed for my flailing limbs, trying to keep me from hitting anything vital.

Foster had a grip on my legs. He slid between my thighs to avoid my kicking feet. Max had my arms now gripped and held in place behind my body.

On the television screen a couple was full on going at it in passionate abandon. Their moans and s*x sounds permeated the living room.

I realized that the grip Max had on my arms was thrusting my breasts out for Foster’s hungry gaze. My clothing had become displaced in the scuffle, and my cleavage was borderline indecent.

I felt Max’s hard c**k pressing against the small of my back. His lips came down on my neck in an open mouthed kiss. Foster’s stare remained locked on my breasts.

Still in his strong grasp, I felt his thumbs slowly, tracing circles on my thighs. I shivered with lust, trapped between two sexy men, restrained by their powerful, yet gentle hands.

The hot f*****g going on in the corner of the room, where the DVD played, made for a moment that was pregnant with s****l tension.

We were on the precipice of something. I wanted this something to happen. I hadn’t been this turned on in… ever.

Max’s hands slipped over my arms, releasing them so he could cup my breasts. He squeezed them together, nearly forcing them to spill out over the low neck of my shirt displaying them to even better advantage for Foster.