Scandal...

I tell you this story in confidence.

I will give you some background info:
Bree and I were friends. Familiar friends. We met in high school and well, our keeping in touch was on and off. In high school we had a thing but it wasn't serious and never did get serious.

Fast forward to campus and we meet again. She has changed, I have changed but one thing has remained the same, we both still want to bang like bunnies on marikhat. We are curious, we want to sexplore and we like our freedom a bit too much. We understand each other somehow and know that beyond the physical, nothing could ever happen between us and we are content. We like it that way. No strings attached.

So one day I am in her room and opportunity presents itself. She wants it. Bad. I hadn't come with this in mind so I am not prepared. I do not have protection. But she is there. One touch and I am hard. A few teasing touches and she is moist. She is ready. I am ready. I am over her. No protection. Teasing. Touching. Feeling. Having a mental debate. To fuck or not to fuck. Fuck. I want to bing bang bang. BANG! Slap. Spank. Thrust. But I am without rubber shield. No sheath. Mental debate. It is better raw anyways. Okay. Not okay. Yes. No. I shall have good sex today.

But it is Bree. We have an agreement. We understand each other's wants. Needs. Desires. I know Bree. She is there. Naked. I know where she has been. Her breasts are all perky. I know how that uni is. Her nipples are reaching for the ceiling in hardness. This is Bree. I have no protection. She is naked. I am thinking and feeling. Teasing and thinking. Buying time to make up my mind. She pulls me closer. My body suspended an inch over hers. Pause. I close my eyes and move. I move inside her, I move outside her. I move. In. Out. Slowly in, slowly out, more slowly in as I feel every moist centimetre...

I open my eyes. I stop the mental fuck. I stop imagining it. Visualising it will only make this harder. It is an easy decision. I have tried to convince myself that it is hard but no, I am the hard one. The decision is easy. I had fought to convince myself that I should unbuckle my belt. That I should throw caution to the wind. that I should immerse my curious and angry red-headed wholeness in her eager velvety moist-lipped haven. I had tried to convince myself that what I know to be right could be bent, for now. My resolve hadn't moved. I had failed to get past my fears. Past self-preservation. I loved me too much to take off as much as my sweater. I breathe in and I say no. I am sorry, I have no protection. I would love to but... I have no protection. I could go buy some but I do not remember how we dismiss that and decide 'next time'. Nothing happens and we decide we shall fuck another day.

It is a few weeks later and being me, I want to reclaim what was mine. What is mine. I plot and plan. I will recreate lost opportunity. I end up at her place one calm Sunday afternoon. I have only one thing in mind; her velvety haven. We chat a bit and she goes out for something to eat. I see opportunity. I do not hesitate. I decide to take my opportunity and pull the 'Naked Man'. This will be a bloody amazing afternoon. I mentally plan the sequence of positions I will fuck her in: Doggie; head-buried-in-the-pillows doggie; reverse-cowgirl; personal variation; flat-on-the-bed like a lying-flat-on-your-stomach-penetration-from-behind-doggie; pick her up, turn her around, legs hanging loosely on either side of my hands as I lift her up and down...

I look around the room and mentally arrange the props. I will need the seat, the table, the wall, the floor... I figure she must be coming back and it is time to pull the naked man. I undress and throw my clothes all around the room. Nothing can go wrong. Nothing will cock-block. Today rock hard meets velvet soft moistness. Today I go balls deep into this girl I have imagined ploughing for the last 5 years. Today is harvest day. I have come to collect. He is up and ready to claim his dues. Well, he will be when she gives him her gentle touch.

I try out a few naked-man poses in the room. I was too shy to take off my boxers, after all, I am certain it is her first naked man so with boxers will do, for a first. After a few poses, I settle on one. It most flatters my bum and places least emphasis on my beer belly. I wait.

A key comes in contact with the keyhole. It is time. I wear the biggest happy-in-anticipation-smile that I have ever mustered on my face. The door-knob turns, and ...

A string of curses and hearty embarrassment laughter leave my pie-hole. This is ridiculous. Hilarious. Lol! I am amused by my bravery and I couldn't care less that when the door opened it was not Bree but Bree and another man. I thank the infinite wisdom that had advised me not to bear all out. He saw me in boxers. No weirdness there but embarrassment from there to Timbuktu and back. It was a fail and I never do it again. I never see the guy again and he never sees me either. We both do not know who the other is.

Fast forward a few weeks/months and a law-school friend asks me about the naked man I pulled. I am agape. Eyes wide, tongue lost down my throat, mouth suddenly drier than the sahara. Everything goes silent. I can feel, I can hear my heart beat faster as it tries to make up for that beat it just missed. Bree had told people the naked man story. MY naked man story. It had become a Scandal.

It was a while before we saw eye to eye and an even longer while before we spoke as acquaintances. When asked, it felt weird saying we were once 'good friends' even though I was looking for a compromise-term after refusing to refer to our long-ago friendship as 'close'. Nothing happened then, nothing ever will and I am very guarded on what I share.

It was part of learning in campus about friends, life and person. It was part of the beating and moulding I took to come up with the man I am today. The man who isn't defined by his past but one who has endeavoured to learn and hungrily take in all lessons that would make him a better him tomorrow.

Still, fuck that girl.