More than Friends Ch. 01

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I was at college in Manchester and spent two years sharing an old house with seven others – three other guys and four girls. The house had three stories: on the ground floor was a large common room and a kitchen, and a utility room with laundry facilities. The upper two floors each had four small bedrooms and a decent bathroom, and we naturally split it so that the girls were on one floor (the top floor) and the guys on another (the middle floor).

We were all friends, although we didn’t always share the same interests. Dave, John and Rick were all mad keen football fans – Dave played for the varsity second team and all seven of us often went to cheer him on when they had a home game – but football wasn’t really my cup of tea, rugby was.

All four of the girls were cute in their own way. Debs and Sarah were both slender blondes with decent sized breasts, though with different builds – Sarah was nearly six foot tall to Debs’ five foot three, and Lou was a petite half-Asian girl with long dark hair and a chest that seemed far too big for her frame. Emma was plainer, but had reddish-brown wavy shoulder-length hair and small breasts and wider hips, and was more athletic and toned than the other three. None of them would ever have caught my eye as a particular stunner, and I’d never had any inclination to date any of them.

The eight of us would normally spend our midweek evenings in the college union bar, which was about a ten minute walk from the house, drinking a few beers and where Dave, John and Rick would watch whatever football was on the telly, whilst the girls would chat with their friends. When I got bored with the football I’d normally grab someone and head over to the pool room where we’d shoot a few frames.

As the first year progressed we’d settled into something of a rhythm, picked up all our own boyfriends and girlfriends and had quite the small gang of folks. I found myself getting on particularly well with Emma, as we seemed to have similar tastes – we both often ended up in the gym at the same time, and she had a boyfriend on the varsity rugby team and we’d often end up chatting together while she watched him play. I wasn’t ever good enough to be in the squad, but I enjoyed the game and helped out the coaches in training and on match days. Most weeks it would be Emma who wanted to play pool, as well, and we struck up something of a rapport.

It never seemed particularly awkward when she would complain about her boyfriend – we’d have a good old laugh about his foibles and I’d occasionally regale her with stories about what a clueless idiot I was with my girlfriend, too, and how blokes needed to be told straight up what to do, or what they were doing wrong, and how it was no use expecting us to be able to reads girls’ minds, unfathomable as they are!

It certainly didn’t occur to me at the time that there was any sexual tension between us, we were, after all, just good friends – I’d even heard Rick telling Emma’s boyfriend Jason there wasn’t anything to worry about – but looking back, I guess I can see how Jo, the girl I was seeing at the time, might have been jealous at the amount of time I spent with her, and how it led to our breakup, though I don’t think I’d been completely happy in our relationship for quite some time.

Emma was sympathetic, of course, but a little bit cynical as well. Jo was the fourth girl I’d been with over the course of just over a year, not unusual for being at college, I’d thought, but Emma seemed to think I was too flighty and unable to hold down a relationship! I must have had more than a few drinks, because for some reason I started opening up about how most of the girls I’d been with were strong personalities most of the time, but seemed unwilling to take any initiative in bed, but Emma didn’t stop me at all, and I guess she just stored the information away.

Maybe I should have seen the signs when Emma and Jason broke up a few weeks later and it was my turn to listen to her pour out her woes about how controlling he was and how he was putting pressure on her to move in with him. Even then I wasn’t thinking about sex with her though – after all, she was my friend and she wasn’t really “my type”.


At college, we used to have what was euphemistically called “reading week”. This was, ostensibly, a time when you didn’t have any lectures, classes or seminars, but were supposed to catch up on the extensive reading list ready to prepare for the first papers that were due a week or so afterwards. In practice, everyone treated it like a week off, and a lot of people simply went home for the week. On this occasion, Dave, John, Rick, Emma and myself were staying, whilst Debs, Sarah and Lou had all gone home.

It was a Tuesday evening, and as normal we’d arranged to meet in the union bar at around half-six. Emma and I had both been in the gym and were the last to arrive, so I headed to the bar to get drinks for her and me whilst she went and sat down with the guys. The bar was otherwise empty except for the bartender, who seemed disgruntled about having any customers at all, from the look of him.

Carrying canlı bahis two pints of Fosters over to the table, I caught the tail end of the conversation, and Emma turned to me to take the glass from my hand.

“These guys aren’t staying,” she said, turning up her nose.

“What? Isn’t there any football on tonight?” I asked.

“Yeah, but we’ve got tickets for the game at Old Trafford,” Dave said, flourishing his ticket at me. “We’re going there. I asked you last week if you were coming – the tickets were cheap ‘cos it’s the League Cup”.

I had a vague recollection of him asking me something along those lines, a while back, and I suspect I had tuned out most of the conversation around it and had said I didn’t really fancy it.

“There’s bound still to be tickets if you wanna come too,” Rick said. “The radio reckoned that they’d still have them on sale at the gate.”

They were looking at me expecting me to agree… maybe even to drive, since I was the only one of who did. I looked at Emma, and she wrinkled her nose at the idea.

“I think I’ll pass, guys,” I decided, turning back to Dave. “I’m not really that bothered about watching United play, and it wouldn’t be fair on Emma to leave her on her own-”

“I’ll be okay-” she started to say, but then cut herself short, and I turned back towards her.

“We could have a few beers, shoot some pool, maybe,” I suggested.

“Sure. Sounds good. I didn’t think you boys were United fans anyway?”

“Rick is,” John shot back at her, “but we wanna see them get beat. They’re 2-1 down from the first leg already!”

“You better keep quiet about that when we get there,” Rick said. “These are tickets for the home section, so you better not cause any trouble!”

John ignored him. “Anyway it’s a chance to see a match at Old Trafford without having to pay a fortune like you have to for the League games. Can’t be at Uni in Manchester without seeing a United game at some point!”

“Anyway, if you’re not joining us we better call a cab,” Rick put in, draining his pint and standing up. “Back in a tick.”

“Miserable buggers, you two,” Dave said. “Bet you’d’ve enjoyed the game too. What’re you going to do for the rest of the evening, now you’re alone together,” he added insinuatingly, and I felt my face redden slightly at the implication.

“These two?” John asked. “Not a chance. They’ll still be shooting pool when we get back. Want us to meet you here after the game?”

“Hey, no need to be insulting, just because we’re friends” Emma piped up. “You don’t need to come back here for us – maybe I’ll have Mike tied spread-eagle to my bed and be shagging him senseless by then!”

I definitely blushed that time, and amidst the chortling from Dave and John about it, casually rearranged myself in my jeans to be more comfortable, as my cock stiffened at the thought. I’m sure I saw Emma glance down at my movement and a twinkle appear in her eye, but Dave and John were laughing too much to notice.

“What’s so funny?” Rick asked as he reappeared from the phone booth down the hall. “C’mon, Kersal Cabs reckoned they’d be here in five minutes. Let’s go.”

“These two,” Dave said with a chuckle as he grabbed his coat and fed his arms through the sleeves. “Emma reckons she might have him, since they’re all alone tonight.”

Rick snorted. “Yeah, right. Well we’ll know where you are if it turns out you’ve gone missing when we get back,” he said with a wink. “C’mon boys.”


We said our goodbyes and watched as Dave, John and Rick left, still chuckling at our expense, and Emma shook her head slowly.

“I’m not sure whether I should feel insulted or flattered…” she said. “Do they think that I’m not the kind of girl who would put out? Or is it just that they can’t see you and me together?”

“I wouldn’t like to comment on the first point, given what you’ve told me before about you and Jason,” I said, and I think I managed to do it without colouring up. “But it’s definitely the latter. I mean, I’ve been out with other girls, but you were still my friend, and I guess they just can’t see us together.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Ah well… C’mon, let’s go shoot some pool.”

I don’t know if the earlier conversation had set the tone for the evening, but as we played there was definitely a lot more of a sexual tension between us, and our chat leaned heavily in that direction. Emma asked me a lot of questions about previous girlfriends and what I had liked about them and what I felt I got out of the sexual relationship. In fact, it seemed I spent a lot of time answering her questions, and a lot of my replies seemed to be about how frustrated I had been with these girls not being prepared to take the initiative.

We played for about an hour and a half after the guys had left for their match, and it was eight frames each. Normally I would have been two or three frames ahead by now, as I was slightly the better, or luckier, player, but I must have been distracted by the discussion, and the seemingly persistent erection that it was generating.

“One more frame bahis siteleri then,” I said, as I racked the balls up one more time and sent the white down to the head of the table. “Winner takes all?”

“Want to put something on it, Mike?” she asked. “Put some pressure on? A forfeit or a dare, maybe?”

This had been a common theme over the last year or so – a final frame almost always had some form of wager on it, whether to pick up a dinner tab, do a chore for the other person, or act on a dare, especially if we were even, when it was normally a big deal and one of us wanted to make it seem worthwhile.

None of the forfeits had been anything especially exciting, but as we had split them fairly evenly it made for yet something more that built up a rapport between us. The most boring one for me had been to chauffeur Emma and Debs to a pop concert and wait for them outside then chauffeur them home as well. I felt a bit silly in full suit and chauffeur’s hat whilst driving my little Fiat Tipo, and I was glad that I’d taken a book to read for the three hours that I had to wait for them. Another time she’d dared me go commando for the whole day, which was probably the closest we’d come to anything remotely sexual, as I couldn’t help from getting hard at odd moment because of the unusual feel.

In her turn Emma had once done my laundry (which led to a lot of “hands in my pants” jokes that still made us giggle and got me nasty looks from her boyfriend), and pushed me around in a wheelchair one afternoon, after I’d broken my foot. The most risqué thing I’d had her do for me was give me a back massage on the kitchen table, which she’d done in shorts and a sports bra, but I have to admit that my sexual thoughts at that point were distinctly on Lou, who was standing about 6 feet in front of me in her knickers and bra doing her washing-up.

“Okay,” I agreed. “What did you have in mind? D’ya have a stack of ironing that needs doing, or another essay you want me to type up for you?”

“No, I thought I’d change things up a bit,” she said, ignoring my playful sarcasm. “I thought I’d ask for you as my sex slave tonight!”


I gawked at her in astonishment. Obviously the guys twitting her had made an impression.

“Yeah, well since we were talking with the guys earlier I’ve been thinking, and I reckon it would be really cool!”

“No way!”

“Ah c’mon! I reckon you’d enjoy it too, ya know.”


“I could strip you down, tie you up and have my wicked way with you,” she said with a gleam in her eye and a wide grin, “or maybe pin you between my thighs and ride your face. Or maybe tickle you until you begged me.”

I was definitely flustered by now, and she knew it. She was grinning with glee at my predicament.

“Well you’ve been telling me all night about how the girls you’ve been with before won’t take the initiative with you.”

“Well, yeah, but-”

“And I was thinking, what if they did, and they had control of you, whether you’d like that better.”


“And you’ve had that stiffy in your pants ever since I said I might tie you to my bed. Come on, admit it, that thought turns you on, doesn’t it?”

I couldn’t deny the thought did. I just wasn’t sure that the reality of it would.

“Um, yeah, but-”

“And you’ve never backed out of a bet before. You’re not going to start now, are you?” she asked with a sly grin

“Well, no, but…” I started, still trying to frame a coherent reply, “But you’ve never suggested anything like this before, either!”

“You mean anything sexual?”

“Well, yeah!”.

She stared at me levelly, holding my gaze for a moment, then flicked her glance down to the bulge in my jeans.

“Does the idea of doing something sexual with me repulse you? Would you turn me down if I came up to you in a bar or a club? Because you don’t look as though you would. You look like the thought really turns you on”

“No! Of course not! I just never thought…!”

“No,” she sighed. “I know you didn’t.

“So, now that I’ve actually broached the question, do you accept the wager, or are you too scared.”

She was grinning again. I knew she wasn’t going to take it personally if I backed out, but this was a big, new step, and I wasn’t sure what I was doing.

“I’m not backing out,” I finally blurted out, “but we have to have some rules for this before I agree anything. I’m not doing anything in public or anything, or being tied to your bed for days on end!”

“Hey, I never thought of that!” she giggled. “But, no, I quite agree.”

She put her cue down on the table and stood in front of me.

“Rules would be a good thing, like how long would you be my slave for? I was thinking maybe until nine tomorrow morning?”

That was about thirteen hours. I think she knew that it wasn’t realistic, but was a first bid that I had to react to. We’d already moved on from arguing about whether I’d accept the bet or not, to the terms of it, and she knew she’d won the first round.

“Christ no! I could be dead by that time, who knows bahis şirketleri what you’ll do to me!”

“Who knows, indeed,” she said with a wink.

“How about an hour?” I countered.

“Hah! An hour? That’d hardly be worth the effort! We’ve been playing pool for longer than that and you’ve had a hard-on the whole time without me even touching you. I’d want to keep you going for much longer than that! Six hours?”

It was time for a little admission.

“That’s still a little bit scary, Emma. And there are still limits on what I’m prepared to do.”

“It’s supposed to be a little bit daunting, Mike. That’s the whole point. The anticipation is what’s supposed to kill you.” Without looking away from my eyes she reached down and for the first time touched my cock, just laying her hand on where it stretched my jeans. “Come on, what’s your offer?”

I gulped.

“Three hours?” I said, nervously, “but we still need to set more rules, and safe words.”

She nodded. “Three hours it is. No toilet play, or anything that’s going to cause visible or lasting damage, but other than that anything goes, but,” and she continued on quickly as she saw a moment of panic flash through my eyes, “you have three different safe words”

I relaxed, and raised my eyebrows in a gesture meaning for her to explain.

“‘Amber card’ will mean ease off, or slow down, or can I take a break for a moment, and I’ll do whichever of those you want, but it will cost you an extra fifteen minutes at the end.

“You can use ‘Red card’ if you really want me to stop what I’m doing and not do it any longer, or if you really don’t want to do what I’m asking you to, and I won’t make you. That will cost you an extra thirty minutes

“Finally, if there’s a serious problem and you need me to stop completely then you can call out ‘black card’ I’ll stop straight away and get you into a safe position. This is just a safety precaution, really, in case there’s a danger, but hey, it’d be a bit of a mood killer, so it’ll cost you an extra three-quarters of an hour.”

I breathed a bit of a sigh of relief, and started thinking about my options.

“Does that sound okay?” she asked, and slowly rubbed a thumb up and down my reforming erection.

“Yes, okay,” I agreed, though at this point I think I was a slave already, to the attention she was giving my cock.

She pulled away slightly and picked up her cue again.

“One last thing,” she said. “If I think you’ve used a card frivolously, then I get to double the time penalty, and you serve the time at the end of the three hours.”

“Hey, no way! That’s not fair! You’ll just claim that they’re all frivolous! And besides, by the time the three hours is up, the guys will be back from the match and you know they’ll come looking for me!”

“See,” she said with a grin, “we haven’t even started and you’re planning when I’ll be able to use you again.

“Fine then, I get to double one time penalty if I think you’ve used your safe word frivolously, and we’ll agree at the end of the three hours when the best time for you to serve your penalty will be – but it will have to be before Friday, ‘cos the other girls will be back then.”

“Fine,” I agreed reluctantly.

“Right, your break-off then, I think.”

“Whoa! I don’t think so!”

“What? Why not?”

“Well, we’ve discussed what I’m putting on the table, so to speak, as a wager.” We shared a brief look of humour in a moment of mutual amusement at my turn of phrase. “But we haven’t even started talking about what your forfeit will be when I win!”

“Getting a bit ahead of yourself there, aren’t you?” she said. “I figured that fulfilling my fantasy would fulfil one of yours as well.”

“I don’t think that’s how it work-… wait, you’ve really had a fantasy of tying me to your bed?” I suddenly asked, flustered once again. “Where did this come from?”

Emma rolled her eyes.

“Mike, you’re a good bloke. You help folks who ask you to. You treat your girlfriends well. You’re a good mate to your mates – male and female – and you’re always prepared to give them a lift somewhere or cheer them on at what they’re doing. You’re a good-looking guy, and you work out, so you have a decent bod.

“But if there’s one thing I’ve learned about you, and not just tonight, it’s that you’re passive and you won’t take something unless it’s offered to you. It can be intensely frustrating watching you and knowing that, you’re being really polite about something, but it isn’t what you want.”

She closed in against me again.

“But to answer your question, the first time I really thought about you sexually, was the first time I saw you working out, and I thought about what your body might feel like naked on top of mine.

“The first time I had thoughts about tying you down and fucking you,” she said the word deliberately, as though trying to gauge my reaction to the unexpected coarseness, and she reached her hand down to my cock again, “was six months ago when I was straddled across your butt on the kitchen table and rubbing oil into your naked back, and you were drooling over Lou half-naked in front of you. And it was then because I knew you sure weren’t going to roll me over and do me, which was what I was hoping for when I agreed the back rub.”

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