I was almost done jerking off – I could feel the edge right at my fingertips – when my phone rang and ruined the moment. The artificial bell sounded like an alarm klaxon, shouting ‘look at this guy with his dick in his hand’.

Even though nobody could see me, I pulled a pillow over my lap while I fumbled for the phone. “Y-Yeah, hi, what, who is it?”

“Oh good, you are awake,” said a light, friendly voice. My friend Alex. “Ringing the doorbell this hard, I was starting to wonder. Are we still on for this Jackie Chan marathon or what?”

Shit. It was time for her visit already? I’d been sure I’d be done already, but it was getting harder and harder to satisfy myself alone. “Fuck ... Um. I’ll ... I’ll be there in five minutes.” I scrambled to at least get pants on.

“Hold up.” Alex barely held back her giggles. “Breathing hard, stammering like that. What, did I just catch you wrestling the trouser snake?”

I couldn’t say anything to that. I just froze, my pants halfway on.

“Oh my God!” Alex squealed. “I was kidding, but you were, weren’t you? I don’t know if I should be flattered.”

I grumbled while I shut my laptop and zipped up my jeans. “Hanging up now. See you in two minutes.”

As soon as I had the door open, she rushed inside and toward the space heater. “Fuck it’s cold.” It wasn’t like she was dressed skimpy: she was a total tomboy from her head to the toes of her steel-capped boots, not someone who’d suffer for fashion. But her baggy jeans and oversized hoodie couldn’t keep all the winter out.

While she warmed her hands, my eyes got stuck on her face. Here black hair fell to her shoulders, her one concession to femininity; but even without makeup, her face was an approachable, girl-next-door kind of pretty. And the look in her steely grey eyes was gorgeous. It had been too long since I’d seen a woman feeling as good as Alex felt with her hands in front of the space heater.

I tore my eyes away and went to make the drinks. Damn it, I needed to get my brain out of my dick.

Not that Alex made it easy. When I came back from the kitchen, I was right in time to see her unzipping her hoodie, revealing the low-cut white tank top underneath.

Fuck. Alex’s tits always caught me by surprise. So much bigger than you’d expect from a slim tomboy like her. Her tank top stretched and strained over them, neckline sitting low enough to showed an edge of blue lycra along with a lovely mouthful of cleavage.

She absolutely caught me looking, but she still smiled at me. She was used to the attention, and didn’t mind as long as we weren’t too creepy. “Ooh, hot chocolate. That is perfect.”

Soon, we were both on the couch, and she put on City Hunter. Or maybe it was one of the Drunken Master movies. I had trouble paying attention to the screen.

But I still noticed when, twenty minutes in, Alex hit pause and turned toward me. “Dude.”

I winced. I must have stepped over the ‘creepy’ line. “Sorry, sorry.” I pulled my eyes up to her face.

But Alex didn’t look angry. She gave me a serious look. “How long has it been since you had a date?”

Jeez. I didn’t want to talk about it because that meant thinking about it. “I, uh, had a fling in summer, with that swim instructor.”

“Summer--” Alex boggled at me. “Are you telling me it’s been over six months since you got laid? No wonder you’re so hard up! You’ve been throbbing the whole time I’ve been here.”

I grabbed a couch cushion and put it over my lap. “You don’t need to remind me. I know.”

Alex pursed her lips, looking thoughtfully my way. Eventually, she nodded. “Right. I’m going to give you a hand. Whip it out.”

“Excuse me?” I stared at her, looking for the inevitable signs of joking.

Nothing. Pure, serious business. “Whip it out. We can’t just leave you like this.” She shrugged off her open hoodie. That alone was a lovely sight -- her long, lean arms exposed all the way to her narrow shoulders, which set themselves back while her chest jutted forward to strain her top further.

Then the top came off, too, and she sat on my couch with her upper half wearing nothing but her blue sports bra.

“What.” I couldn’t take my eyes off her. “But you ... you don’t fuck your guy friends.” Every guy friend she had knew that much. And yes, we’d all asked.

“I don’t!” She rolled her eyes. “We’re not going to fuck, you’re not going to put it in or anything. I’m just going to help you out.” She smiled at me, so sweetly, like she was just going to help me carry in the groceries. “Now come on, this bra’s not coming off until your pants do.”

I couldn’t say no to that even if I was thinking straight. And honestly, it felt good to get those tight, confining pants off. I just had to groan with relief as my pillar stood upright.

And true to her word, Alex drew her sports bra up and off in one smooth motion. Her breasts dropped free, each a weighty triple-handful. They were natural enough to ripple, but firm enough to bounce only once before settling into a teardrop shape, just a little fuller on the bottom than the top. I finally got a look at her nipples, and memorised their pale pink colour as best I could.

While I was paralysed by admiration, she scooted closer, sitting right by my side. I felt her leg against mine -- still fully clothed, contrasting her toplessness. But that fell to the background when her hand wrapped around my dick. Such a soft hand, hot from the space heater. Her touch was gentle at first, a slowly probing stroke, but then her fingers tightened. Even the light motions from her jerking wrist were enough to send a rhythmic sway through her chest. I’d grown so used to the feeling of my own hand that I’d forgotten how different it could be to have someone else stroking me off. But it was still only a slow build, and real pleasure was far enough away to make me whine with need.