What's a Kiss Between Friends?

The two of us glanced at each other. She's so pretty, I thought, against my will. All the glances I pretended to ignore were bubbling up again. She was pretty. I'd never kissed a girl before. On another night, I wouldn't have been against trying it with Molly at all. Her red hair stuck out as the only real thing in my sight. I often envied her for it, but maybe it was actually something else behind that feeling. She stopped moving her hand, and I stopped moving mine. Something balled in my throat. Then I leaned in. Our lips met. Hers tasted like the cheap wine we'd been drinking. My lip quivered, pressed against hers. Oh my God, it was so different than kissing a boy.

Then his dick jumped between our fingers, and I had to remember just why were doing this. I took my face away from hers for a second, gazing bleary eyed up at Paul. He really thought it was all for him. I didn't care, so long as he finished quickly. We kept stroking him while we kissed again, and his dick got harder in our hands.

Molly's tongue touched my lips and I opened my mouth. The feeling of it invading was just what I needed as a distraction. The rush in my chest spread down to my stomach. Molly made a small sound and nudged closer to me. Her hand moved faster on Paul's dick, and I struggled to match it. Our hands slid up and down together. Shame of shames, I've always liked to please. I just wish me and Molly were stroking off somebody we liked. Paul's dick strained against the net of our fingers. We kissed deeper, and I shivered. I kept stroking Paul. I hated that I was touching him, that he was watching us, but I couldn't stop. The kiss was good enough.

Paul groaned. "Faster."

We both sped up together. Up and down. Up and down. Molly took her mouth away from me and nestled her head in the crook of my shoulder. The tip of his dick became slick. I tried not to think about it. I focused on Molly. She was watching our hands with her lips parted. I squeezed my thighs together. His dick was purple-red in our hands. The skin was stretched tight. Veins stood out. Molly's knuckles were white. My hand ached.

"Keep kissing, I'm close," Paul said.

Her teeth grazed my lower lip, and then bit down. I gasped. She took advantage and pushed her tongue deeper. I let her. I wanted to disappear into her mouth.

His dick pulsed hard in our hands. Then cum sprayed up in the air. It kept coming, some dribbling out over the top of my hand. Some landed on his own stomach. He groaned. It went on too long.

Molly pulled her hand away, and then stopped kissing me. I was left feeling cold. Loath to extend contact any longer, I withdrew mine, watching the white fluid web my fingers. I didn't know what to do with it. Paul was still staring, but his face was changing. The sight of his cum on our fingers (not to mention his new clarity) must have restored the pretense he'd tried with us all the weeks up until now. Regret. Shame. Too late, asshole, I thought.

Molly crawled away from him on the futon. "Do you have any kleenex, Harry?" she asked, sounding cold. Oh, God. Harry. I lowered my head in shame. From under my eyelashes I could still see Jack. He looked overawed. Why the fuck did you do this?

"Uh, only a little. The bathroom's just down the hall." Molly took what he had and cleaned away the worst before she went down the hall. I was stuck cradling the messy hand with my clean one, refusing to make eye contact with anybody. A few minutes later she came back with a handful of wet paper towels. She handed me some, and together we wiped away the evidence.