C|SUITE LETTERS: True Best Friends Will Share Everything

True Best Friends Will Share Everything

Dear C|Suite,

I still think about it when I’m trying to fall asleep every night. And I always end up with my hand between my legs.

I am about to tell you a story about how I never truly understood the meaning of having a best friend until mine allowed me to sleep with her boyfriend. It's the true definition of a strong friendship.

Kelly and I shared a dorm room in college, and we were both athletes representing our school. I was on the volleyball team. So just picture a 5'5" libero with a nice bubble butt, blonde hair, and hazel eyes with a bit of sassiness to her. Kelly, on the other hand, is a lot taller than I; she played soccer and is around 5'8" with brown hair, blue eyes, long legs, and slightly larger breasts than me.

I often felt a bit envious of her breasts. Occasionally, we'd shower together in the dorm and I'd admire them from time-to-time. It never affected our friendship since I never had trouble attracting guys. In fact, I sometimes imagined Kelly and me being intimate and still wonder if she's ever been curious about girls too, or specifically about me.

Don't get me wrong, I am like 90% into getting dicked-down, but I think there is a piece deep down inside every girl that wouldn't mind someone like Kelly pressed against them; treating a pussy with their fingers as if they were at 10-pin bowling on a Saturday night.

Anyways...

So, Kelly's been doing the whole long-distance thing with her boyfriend for like three months now, and she’s not coming back for another three. She's doing school abroad over in Spain. We all used to hang out together before she left, so I knew him pretty well... and yeah, he’s hot. Like, really hot. And definitely not the type who’s used to going six months without sex.

Kelly called me one night, half-drunk and laying in her bed like, “I think you should just fuck him.”

I literally blinked at her like, what the actual hell.

But she was dead serious. Said she trusts me, trusts him, but she knows he’s struggling. “Just once. Just to get him through. But there’s one rule... no kissing. That’s too intimate.”

That rule stuck with me. No kissing. Anything else was fair game.

She even sent me lingerie to wear for it. Black, lacy, barely-there. Like something out of a porn scene. She wanted to be in control of the whole thing, her way of managing it, I guess.

So I went over to his place a couple nights later, wearing a hoodie over the lingerie and nothing else. My heart was beating so loud in my ears I thought I was gonna pass out.

He opened the door, confused but kinda curious. I told him, “She knows.

She told me to come. She gave me permission.”

He literally froze. Like his brain shut off.

“You’re joking,” he said.

“Nope.”

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He just stared at me. “Is this… a test?”

I laughed and pulled the hoodie off slowly, letting him see the lingerie underneath. “She sent me this. She wants it to happen.”

He kept shaking his head, pacing a little, clearly panicking. “No way. She’s trying to catch me slipping. This is, like, a loyalty thing. Some TikTok trend.

I’m not falling for it.”

I walked right up to him and took his hand, placing it on my waist. He didn’t pull away.

“She told me to take care of you. Said you needed it. Just no kissing.”

That made him pause. He looked at me like he was trying to solve a puzzle he didn’t want to get wrong.

But he didn’t let go.

Eventually, I leaned in and whispered, “It’s not a trap. She’s not gonna be mad. She wants this.”

And finally, finally, he broke.

His hands slid down to my ass, squeezing it through the thin lace. His mouth hovered over mine, so close, but he stopped himself. I could feel the tension in both of us.

He pushed me back toward his bed, and the second I climbed on, it was like something in him snapped. Clothes came off fast — he was already hard as fuck, and when I saw his dick, I swear I got wetter instantly.

He pushed me down and ate me out like he was starving. Fingers in me, tongue on my clit, making me squirm and moan until I was gripping the sheets and begging for it.

And when he finally slid inside me, raw, slow, thick, deep — I felt it. Like all the months of frustration pouring out in one thrust. My hands clawed down his back like a grizzly bear in frenzy mode while he fucked me deep.

We were moving fast... and really loud too. He turned me over and started going at me from behind, holding my hips like he owned me. Then after a few minutes in the downward dog, I got on top. Riding him, hair sticking to my skin (from all the sweat), bouncing until my legs were shaking.

Every few minutes, one of us would almost lean in for a kiss. Our mouths would brush, our noses would touch, but we’d stop. Barely. Just breathing into each other’s mouths, eyes locked, so much want.

“Fuck, I want to kiss you,” he growled.

I bit my lip. “We can’t.”

He grunted and grabbed my throat, driving into me harder, like punishing us both for it. I came on him again, soaking his cock, clenching around him until he lost it and came deep inside me for the first time. No condom. No pulling out. Just a full creampie, thick and warm, dripping out of me as he collapsed on top of me.

But we didn’t stop.

We barely talked, just repositioned, kept going. He licked my thighs, slid back in, fucked me in every way, missionary with my legs over his shoulders, against the wall, on the floor.

By the third round I was sore and shaking and he was still rock hard.

“Can I cum in you again?” he whispered, breath hot on my neck.

I nodded without thinking. “Yeah. Fuck… do it again.”

And he did. Over and over. I lost count of how many times we went. Four? Five? I just remember how full I felt, dripping every time I stood up, his cum running down my thighs.

I felt so used, like a goddamn prostitute...

I loved every second of it.

It was 4am when we finally stopped. Just laid there, bodies tangled, completely wrecked. We didn’t kiss. We wanted to... so bad. But we didn’t.

We both knew if we kissed, it’d cross some line we couldn’t uncross.

He kissed my neck instead. Slow. And I almost lost it again.

He tossed me a Arizona Tea from the mini fridge in his room before I had to leave. Every hot guy has what I call a 'fuck fridge' in their room. A fridge full of electrolytes and thirst quenching beverages that they know are much needed after a good session. If you ever meet a guy and he has this fridge in his room, you know he's fucking on the reg. I love a man who is always prepared.

When I got home, Kelly already texted me.

"So... did you fuck him?"

"Yes..all night just like you wanted.."

"Did you kiss?"

I stared at the message for a minute. Then typed:

“No. But it was really fucking close.”

She replied with a wink.

And that was it.

But I still think about that night. About how badly we wanted to break that one rule.

About how many times I felt him come inside me.

And if she ever gives permission again.

I’m not sure we’ll be able to stop ourselves next time.

Yours Truly Horny,

Ms. Arizona