Friends and Benefits
Chapter 7

Copyright© 2005 by Big Ed Magusson

Sex Story: Chapter 7 - I told her "It's a long, complicated story about friends with benefits. Or without benefits. Or... I don't know. Friends and benefits." It was the story of my mid-twenties and sorting out my confusion about women, love, and sex. But it was only in telling my story to a non-traditional "therapist" that I really found the answers and learned about the varied forms that love can take. Note slow code.

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Light Bond   Group Sex   First   Safe Sex   Oral Sex   Masturbation   Petting   Sex Toys   Exhibitionism   Voyeurism   Slow   School  

Sherri leaned back against the arm of the couch and pulled her feet up onto the seat, tucking them under herself. Her skirt slipped up above the knee, accentuating her legs clad in dark hose.

"So you really liked Sharon modeling the garter belt outfit for you?" she asked.

"Oh, absolutely."

"I'm wearing a garter belt, Joe."


"Really." I noticed that Sherri's hands were staying safely away from the edge of her skirt.

"Any particular reason?" I asked.

Sherri let out a low chuckle and brushed her hair back as she smiled at me.

"I'm a working girl, Joe. We don't wear pantyhose. Unless it's for a client's fetish, of course."

"What? There's a pantyhose fetish?"

"There's a fetish for just about everything," Sherri answered. "You name it, there's probably a guy somewhere sexually obsessed with it."

"That's kind of scary," I said, as some of the more disgusting things I could think of floated through my mind.

"That's life," Sherri stated. "Though I feel sad for the people with really unusual fetishes. At least the guys with common ones can find people to explore them with."

"They can explore them with girls like you, or at least some of them," I pointed out.

"That's assuming they have the guts to call the agency in the first place. And the luck to get the right girl, of course."

"What do you mean?"

"Escorts can be just as close-minded as anyone else. Each of us has things we won't do, and getting paid doesn't change that."

"What won't you do?" I asked, then looked away, embarrassed at having been so blunt.

"It's okay," Sherri said. "I don't mind you asking politely. I'll even answer you. I don't do incest fantasies. If a client wants me to pretend I'm his mother or his sister, I tell him to call someone else."

"That's happened? Guys have asked for that?"

"It has."

I didn't know what to say. I had a dozen questions, but no words.

"Beyond that," Sherri continued, "it depends a lot on the circumstances. I might be willing to do something one evening with one client, but refuse to do it later because something small is different."

"Like what?"

"Hygiene's a biggie. You'd be surprised how many times a session starts with me suggesting the client join me for a shower. And I'm not the one that needs one."

I chuckled.

Comfort, usually, too," she continued. "If a client is being particularly obnoxious or pushy, I'm more likely to say 'no.' I'm not going to put myself in a position where I have to worry about him taking things too far."

I nodded. "I know how easy it can be to take it a little too far."

"Really? I'd like to hear about that."

"Well, I'd rather ask you more questions."

"But we're here to talk about you," Sherri replied.

"Okay," I said. "It was New Year's Eve. Sharon had suggested I go with her to Kim's party..."

Sharon smiled when she opened her door on the thirty-first. I smiled when I saw she was wearing the same blouse and skirt that she'd worn during our photo shoot.

"C'mon in, Joe! I got the photos developed."

I followed Sharon over to her kitchen table. Like the last time, she'd sorted them into three groups. I was heartened to see fewer in the 'bad' pile than before. We spent several minutes going through them all.

I'd done better this time. The bad ones were more subtly bad. As I feared, getting her arms posed right was the biggest problem. The mediocre pile had most of the same flaws as before, but the good pile ... wow.

Several of the shots with Sharon flashing her stocking tops had made the good pile. We'd managed a good balance of coy and naughty in her poses. I was also pleased with a similar mix in one of the teddy bear shots.

The truly hot pair, though, were of her back. In both, she was glancing over her shoulder with a lustful gaze. In the first, that gaze almost screamed for what was coming next, as her hands were on her bra strap. The second picture almost perfectly mimicked the first except her bra was gone. She'd twisted just enough to make it look like she was starting to turn to face the camera.

"These are really hot," I said.

"Yeah, I like them."

"It looks like you're about to turn around, stride up to the camera, throw it aside, and pull the photographer to the floor."

Sharon laughed. "I might have to do that some day. If I find the right photographer, of course."

"I'd volunteer," I offered.

Sharon's responding chuckle was good-natured. I smiled back.

"We should get going," I said.

"I still need to fix my hair," she replied.

My brow furrowed as I looked at her. I didn't see anything wrong with her hair. But what did I know? I was a guy.

"Okay," I said. "I'll wait here."

"Great. I shouldn't be more than a few minutes."

Well, it turned out that Sharon's definition of 'a few minutes' differed rather significantly from mine. I stood for a while and then finally slumped into one of the chairs. I could hear a blow dryer in the other room. I started flipping through the pictures in front of me again. I kept coming back to the best pair.

As I studied them, I realized how well they also showed off Sharon's ass. Her panties were pulled tighter across the cheeks than I'd remembered and the garter belt formed a perfect frame. The only thing that would make it better would be if it was just the garter belt without the panties. A similar shot from the front might be pretty good too. Particularly if she turned and started walking toward the camera. Toward the photographer like she was going to—

I forced myself to stop that line of thinking. I'd started to get an erection and this was not the time or place. I could masturbate later. I took a deep breath and opened my eyes.

Sharon was standing in front of me, looking at me quizzically.

"Uh, ready to go?" I asked.


"Let's go then," I said, standing up rapidly and grabbing my coat.

Sharon just nodded and we were on our way.

"So what's wrong with getting an erection?" Sherri asked.

"Nothing, in hindsight," I replied. "At the time I was worried that Sharon would notice, but later I realized that she'd had plenty of time to look at my crotch while I was behind the camera. She'd never said anything then, so she probably wouldn't have said anything if she'd noticed I had one when I was just looking at the pictures."

"She either didn't look or didn't care," Sherri said. "Which is why I don't understand why you got so hung up on masturbating to them."

"Well ... I think she didn't look."

"So you think she would have cared? And not approved?"

"Let me tell you about what happened at the New Year's party and after," I said. "That'll explain some."

"I'm all ears."

Kim's party turned out to be rather sedate. There were only about twenty people there, mostly couples. A cooler of bottled beer replaced the keg of last summer and somehow Kim had wrestled up a large screen TV that silently flickered in one corner of her living room.

Sharon wandered over to talk to Kim's roommate and her new boyfriend while I went to get a drink. Kim was preparing snack trays in the kitchen when I entered and helped myself to some wine.

"Not as big as last summer," I commented.

Kim grimaced.

"That got a little out of hand. I didn't want cops showing up this time."


"It was late. You must have left by then. The neighbors called them because of the noise. Though if Mike and Jeff had kept at it, I would have called them myself."

"Were those the guys I saw almost get in a fight because one spilled a beer on the other guy's girlfriend?"

"Yeah. Trish is Jeff's girlfriend. But that was just the beginning. They kept making snide comments to each other all night. Then when Jeff was out of the room, Mike propositioned Trish. He said she should forget Jeff and let a guy who had a cock bigger than three inches show her a good time. She of course told Jeff, who went for Mike, and if Allen hadn't gotten between them, there would have been a fight!"

I shuddered, and was glad we'd left.

"So tonight's quiet as a result," I observed.


"Mostly couples instead of singles this time."

"I did invite Michelle," she said. "I thought you two might hit it off, but she's been talking to Rich most of the night. You and Sharon should've gotten here sooner."

"That's okay," I said. I let out a small relieved breath that Kim didn't notice. While Tina and I had only had two dates, I wasn't sure I wanted the complication of getting involved with a second woman at the same time.

Except I was, wasn't I?

I thought back to the pictures and then all the stories that I'd downloaded and sent Sharon throughout the fall. I thought of all the conversations and her jokes and her emphasis on how much she'd appreciated our friendship. Sure, she'd said she wouldn't date me, but wasn't that a case of "she doth protest too much"? She'd certainly been more vehement than necessary.

Kim hadn't noticed my distractedness and had been chatting away. I managed to keep up the nods and the encouraging noises, but her words didn't register as they floated through. I started edging toward the door back to the living room and fortunately someone else came in to ask Kim a question. I said I'd talk with her later and escaped to the other room, but not before refilling my glass of wine.

Sharon was talking to a couple that must have been Trish and Jeff. They were laughing together. I slid just enough forward to be out of the doorway and then leaned against the wall, watching.

Sharon's hair cascaded past her shoulders and looked great. Maybe that extra prep had been worth it. I suspected she'd done similar prep before the dinners that had led to the photo sessions. She'd certainly made herself look nice for an evening with just a 'friend.' And we'd had a great time, both times, laughing and talking. Could she have been subtly flirting with me then as well? I just stood alone, lost in the memories.

Sharon glanced over and saw me. She smiled and waved me over. I raised a finger, indicating that I'd be a minute, and slipped back into the kitchen. I tried to check my appearance in the reflection from the microwave glass, but it wasn't clear enough. I grabbed a fresh glass of wine and headed out to join Sharon.

"Hey, Joe, do you know Trish and Jeff?" Sharon asked as I slid next to her.

"No, I don't think we've met," I replied.

We shook hands and started the usual round of introductions. Jeff was in law school and Trish had just started at an accounting firm that fall. The conversation quickly slid into discussing college life and, after a while, Sharon slipped away to get herself a new drink.

"I must say, you two look good together," Trish mentioned once Sharon was out of earshot.

"Err, we're not together. We're just friends."

Trish's eyebrows went up in surprise. "Oh, I'm sorry," she said.

"That's okay. We're really close."

"Oh." Trish looked unsure what to say next, so I let her off the hook.

"It's okay," I said. "I just got over a bad breakup. Sharon's been my best friend through it all."

"Trish is my best friend," Jeff chimed in, squeezing her hand and smiling at her.

She made mushy eyes at him in return. I took a big swig of wine, trying to look elsewhere. He turned to me.

"We were just friends when we first met because she was engaged to her high school boyfriend," Jeff said.

Trish muttered something derogatory under her breath that I didn't catch.

"We started dating about six months after she ended the engagement," Jeff continued.

"And how long have you been together?" I asked.

"Two years in February," Trish answered. She beamed at Jeff, and I was starting to plot my escape when Sharon returned.

"Kim suggested we play some Trivial Pursuit," Sharon said. "You guys interested in being on a team?" We all agreed and headed over to where a table was being cleared and the game set up.

Twenty people divided into six teams around one board made for tight quarters. Several of the couples ended up with the woman in the guy's lap. On our team, Trish grabbed a chair and Jeff knelt next to her. Sharon and I stood behind them, close enough to brush sides and thighs from time to time. Small jolts of electricity seemed to shoot up me whenever we did. She was wearing the same skirt. Was that pantyhose or stockings underneath? I wondered if I'd be able to feel the difference through our clothes.

The Trivial Pursuit game lasted a lot longer than I'd expected. Despite my nailing most of the science and nature questions and Jeff snagging the history questions, we continually got bad draws on the sports questions. Each of the other teams seemed to have a similar problem and struggled with one category they couldn't seem to get. Finally, our team managed a series of lucky rolls and hit a sports question I actually knew—a hockey question. Another lucky roll and we'd won the game.

"All right!" Sharon called out, throwing her arms around me for a celebratory hug. I hugged her back tightly, and she smiled at me before pulling away.

I refreshed our drinks as the crowd broke up. I was definitely feeling no pain and the touch of Sharon's body pressed into mine lingered. I spotted Trish and Jeff holding hands and smiled. Who knew where friendships could end up?

I brought Sharon's drink back and we ended up talking to Kim's roommate and her boyfriend for a while. Then Kim began pulling champagne bottles out of the kitchen. I checked my watch. Eleven fifty five. Other people began noticing and the general conversation died.

"Almost time!" Trish called out when there were two minutes to go.

Jeff undid his watch and propped it on the table in front of him. "Synchronized to the atomic clock," he said to the room, though no one was really listening.

I wandered up to Sharon's side as someone turned the volume on the TV up. It was focused on the ball at Times Square, of course. Champagne glasses were hastily passed around and people started crowding in front of the television. Sharon pressed back into me to avoid someone and being unable to back up, I put my hand on her hip to steady us. She didn't seem to mind and kept looking ahead.

Then the countdown began and, like well trained performing seals, we barked the numbers as prompted. The ball dropped, we called out "Happy New Year!" and people all around us began kissing.

They were established couples, of course, but with the wine I'd had, that didn't register immediately. Instead, feeling Sharon still pressed close, I caught the buzz and leaned in.

But Sharon ... Sharon must have felt my breath on her neck because her head snapped around before my lips had even begun to shape a kiss. She appeared startled and then she shot me a look of pure fury. Then she yanked away and stormed out of the room. In the general revelry, no one else seemed to notice. I let out a deep sigh and followed.

I caught up to Sharon at the front door. She'd opened it and was staring at the light snow that had begun falling. Our coats were still in Kim's bedroom. She turned at my footsteps.

"How dare you!" she hissed.

"What?" I tried to look innocent.

"How dare you try to kiss me!"

"I just leaned in and—"

"Bullshit!" Sharon's eyes were wild and she'd balled her hands into fists.

"Bullshit, Joe!"

"Okay, I'm sorry," I said. "I've had a little too much to drink and I got caught up in the moment."

"Well don't fucking do it again! Don't fucking do it again, Joe! Particularly on New Year's!"

"Okay! I won't. Promise! I'm sorry."

"Don't fucking do it again!" Sharon was visibly trembling.

"I won't do it again," I repeated.

Sharon took a deep breath and then nodded. I took that as an acceptance of my apology.

"Not on New Year's," she said more quietly. She was staring ahead, seeing something besides me.

"What's special about New Year's?" I asked.

She shook her head but kept staring forward. I turned on my heels and retrieved our coats.

"Let's walk and talk," I said.

That snapped Sharon out of whatever she was remembering and she vehemently shook her head.

"I don't have boots. Let's go say goodnight and talk back at my place."

Kim was a little surprised that we were leaving so early, but I murmured that I wasn't feeling well and she gave an appraising nod. We rode back to Sharon's apartment in silence.

Sharon dashed for the bathroom as soon as we got in the door. I wasn't sure where to sit—the living room couch or the kitchen table. Then I spotted the pictures, still scattered about. I carefully gathered them up and moved them to the counter before dropping into one of the chairs at the table. When Sharon returned, she sank into the chair across from me.

She looked at me, almost studying my face. I tried not to fidget. Then Sharon took a breath.

"I told you I lost my virginity at fourteen," she began. "And that I had five guys really quickly. Well, both of those happened on the same night. Well, four of the guys, anyway. New Year's Eve."

My mouth dropped open.

"So what happened?" I asked.

Sharon looked away for a while. She started speaking without looking back.

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