A Weekend Visit

College Friend Shares Her Adonis

My Barista Has a Story

I often write at a little locally-owned café and bakery a half-block from my apartment. I like the café because it doesn’t have free Internet access or extra power outlets. Sure, the chain coffee shops and bakeries offer all sorts of perks, but I like a place where people go to talk, in person, to other people. In other words, it’s the ideal place to listen. Call it eavesdropping if you must, I call it research.

There’s a little table in the back corner, barely large enough for my morning pastry, tea, and a journal. I usually stop in around nine or ten, well after the morning rush and before lunch. It’s never empty, though it’s much less frenetic by the time I sit down and start trying to put my thoughts onto paper. Crowds make it harder to listen, and harder to concentrate.

One recent morning, the barista walked over to the table, her black apron still covering her t-shirt and fading jeans.

“You’re Teresa Simone, aren’t you?” she asked. I couldn’t tell if she was accusing me of something or trying to verify my identity to tell her friends she met me. You really never know what someone wants.

“Who?” I asked, wondering how she could recognize me.

“T. D. Simone. The writer,” the young woman whispered. “I mean, maybe that’s not your real name—”

“Yes,” I replied, my eyes squinting and head tilted. “Why?”

“My name’s Chelly. I’ve made your chai latte three times a week for the last six months. You ask for honey every time.”

“I have a sweet tooth,” I replied.

“My shift ends at 11. I’d like to talk to you if you could stick around for a bit.”

“I’ll be here,” I said, somewhat cooly. My quiet space was being compromised. I thought this might be worth it, despite the price. Once you compromise a space like that, it’s never the same. I certainly couldn’t use the café for meeting anyone else, I told myself. Then I had to admit that I had never interviewed anyone at the café before today and was unlikely to in the future.

A few minutes after her shift ended, Chelly approached with two drinks and took the seat across from me. She was wearing a loose tie-dye t-shirt with her faded and torn jeans. She had a slightly olive complexion, brown eyes, brown hair in a French braid, and she seemed a bit older than some of the other employees.

“Thanks for staying around,” the barista began. “I wasn’t sure you would.”

She looked down at my notebook, puzzled. “What’s that?”

“Shorthand. Well, at least my version of it. I take notes and then rewrite them into another Moleskine.”

Chelly looked at me with a familiar nervousness. I’d seen this look many times before and I’m sure I’ll see it a hundred more. It’s for young women like Chelly that I write. I relaxed, realizing she needed to say what was on her mind. This was a young woman on the verge of discovery.

“Ms. Simone, I’d like to tell you about my weekend, if you don’t mind.”

“You realize I don’t keep many secrets?” I reminded her. “I just alter a few things to protect the not-so-guilty.”

Chelly nodded and looked about the café. “Yes. I really want to talk.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t know who else to tell. I gave my best friend’s fiancé a blowjob.”

Raising my hand, I bluntly reminded Chelly of one of my basic tenets. “I rarely write about cheating. I focus on love and friendship.”

“Oh, no, I didn’t cheat on my best friend. She was there.”

“Really?”

“Please, let me explain.”

So I listened and she shared, starting cautiously before telling me the best part of her experience….

Chelly’s Story

I’m the only one of my girlfriends still in college. I’m working through school, spending the earliest hours of the day making double shots of espresso before rushing off to class in the afternoon. While everyone else did the four years and out, I’m on year six and I’m a little tired.

When my friend Renée invited me to spend a few days with her, I mainly said yes because I wanted to get away. We last got together over a year ago, with some other girlfriends for their graduations. Can you imagine how damn depressing that was? Though we stay in touch online and text each other, it was starting to feel like we were all drifting apart. Renée has been working for two years at the foreign markets desk of a brokerage firm. I’ve been reading design theory books and hoping I’ll have a real job someday.

Meeting Kenny, her fiancé, would be nice, but I didn’t expect to be entertained during the visit. Renée met Kenny at work. No, he’s not a broker or anything like that. He’s a personal trainer who works with some of the partners at the firm. Leave it to Renée. Anyway, I assumed we’d talk about people from college, watch some movies, and I’d get to sleep in two mornings in a row. Sleep was the selling point for me.

I had driven six hours by the time I arrived Friday evening, so I was exhausted. When I knocked on the door, Kenny answered. He was definitely a lot hotter in person than Renée’s online photos implied. He was at least 6’4” with short sand-brown hair and blue eyes. His plain light gray t-shirt clung to him nicely and black shorts with silver piping revealed the most defined legs I have ever seen.

Standing there in my tank top and denim shorts, I could feel my face getting a little flush. I was before Adonis, my size twelve body all-too-visible. I wish I had the confidence of a Tara Lynn or Candice Huffine, but I don’t. I don’t see myself as sexily round or Rubenesque. I know it isn’t healthy, but I think of myself as pudgy in the wrong damn places.

“You must be Chelly,” Kenny said in a voice just deep enough to vibrate my entire body. “We just got back from playing tennis. Renée will be out of the shower in a couple of minutes.”

He stared at me for a split second. It was one of those longer moments than it should be. I assumed he was wondering how his perfect girlfriend could have such an average best friend. As I started to pick up my overnight bag, Kenny leaned over and took it from me. He smelled of that odd, strong musky smell you know you should hate, but you don’t. He waited for me to step inside before following with my overnight bag.

After closing the door, Kenny pointed towards the living room. “Go ahead and relax on the couch. Renée will be right out,” he said. Then, he turned and walked towards the guest room.

I watched his tight, firm butt closely. I certainly wasn’t going to mind spending a weekend around Kenny. Eye candy is a good thing, sometimes.

Sitting still appealed to me after the long drive. I stepped into the living room and approached the beige sectional. Men must call everything a couch; they don’t know a love seat from a daybed.

Everything had a clean, modern look to it. It was like entering an Ikea showroom display, but more upscale. Yet more perfection, of course. I’m sure everything from the hardwood floor to the fancy folding window blinds were made of sustainable whatever, too.

I’m one of those people who studies rooms to learn about the occupants. Plus, I’m a design student, so it’s a good exercise. Wall-mounted picture shelves supported pictures of places Renée and Kenny had traveled to together. The couple appeared side-by-side in only a few of the photos. The images emphasized the places, not the people. The frames were as modern as everything else in the room, simple and functional metal rectangles.

There was, at least to my tastes, an uninspired canvas of gray, tan, black, and silver geometric shapes on the wall behind the sectional. I would have preferred something colorful, maybe a landscape. Strange how the decor reminded me how different Renée and I are.

The only thing that I would have owned was their cat, Sheba. She was curled up on one of the many cream-colored pillows piled in a corner.

As I sat down on the sectional, I muttered “wow” to myself. Renée had always loved movies. Still, I was surprised to see her television covered most of the wall. No wonder Renée said they never went out to movies. Normally, I would have said this was the guy’s dream, but I know Renée likes to own the best of whatever she buys. I was the least impressive thing in the room.

Renée appeared in the hallway, her short blonde hair still damp. Her thin white Venice Beach t-shirt, cut for a bare midriff, left no doubt she was braless. Not like she needs a bra, either. Black Spandex shorts accented the affect of the shirt, as if I needed to be reminded she had the perfect body. Good thing I’m not the sort to get jealous of a friend.

“Wow, it’s great to see you!” she exclaimed, running to the couch. She flopped down beside me and whispered, “So what do you think of Kenny?”

“He’s…” I paused, my mind wandering to thoughts of what might be within those black and silver shorts of his.

“Yeah, he is,” Renée giggled. “He’s getting cleaned up, then we’ll order some food and watch a movie.”

“This is really a nice place. I’ve seen smaller theatre screens,” I said, staring at the panel on the wall.

“And no crying babies or cell phones ringing.” Renée pulled her bare feet underneath her and looked around the room. “It’s okay, but sometimes being the stylish business woman in an office is boring. That’s why we travel when we can. No one cares if you look perfect on a three-day hike.”

Like I could feel sorry for Renée? I sighed. I had really hoped for two days of decompressing.

“Take you shoes off, Chelly. You really can relax.”

“I’m sorry. I should have taken them off when I came inside.”

“Chelly, don’t be so damn silly. Just be yourself. You’re sitting like we’re in class.”

I untied my aging cross trainers, in which I had never trained for anything, and placed them neatly side-by-side. Renée shook her head.

“Oh, get real. I know you. You’d kick the shoes off and drop the socks on your floor within two steps of the door.”

I shrugged and we both laughed. Renée was right. I pulled off the socks and tucked them neatly into the shoes. I tried to take slow, deep breaths and not look so uptight.

“You’re not getting laid enough,” Renée stated, matter-of-factly.

“I haven’t had time to think about sex, much less have it.”

“You can’t live like that. Don’t you ever look around campus or that café or anywhere and think, ‘He’s cute. I need a fuck’?”

I shrugged and shook my head. “I’ll meet someone after school. You did.”

“Yeah, but not even a fantasy?”

“Like I said, no time.” Renée had a point. I hadn’t let myself daydream, much less fantasize. “Maybe I should look, I guess.”

“Promise you’ll at least look!” she teased.

“Well…” I started.

Renée leaned closer. “Yes?”

“I certainly noticed Kenny’s cute butt.”

“Oh, look all you want. He’s definitely worth a glance or two. I should know.”

About that time Kenny entered the room. He was wearing a red tank-top and loose black shorts. I might have blushed.

“You two hungry?” he asked. Yep, definitely a normal man. “I’ll call for a garden delight pizza from Maria’s. Want some wine right now?”

Renée nodded and Kenny vanished into the kitchen.

“Wine is his only vice. Can you believe it?” Renée asked. “I sneak a cupcake at least twice a week. Last week, I had a burger for lunch. But don’t tell Kenny!”

Kenny returned with two bottles of wine, a Sauvignon Blanc and a Zinfandel. He explained something about how the wines complemented both spring greens and herbs. I didn’t get it, but he seemed very pleased with the wines. I let Renée chat wines with her fiancé while I did the smart thing and drank the wine.

While they chatted, I noticed Renée putting a hand on his knee. She moved her hand in slow circles. Taking her advice, I let myself think about what those black shorts contained. A little more wine and I’d almost be relaxed. Almost.

The doorbell rang and Kenny rose. I watched that cute butt of his all the way out the room.

“Yep, it’s a nice ass, isn’t it?” Renée said.

Kenny returned with something approximating a pizza. It was a fancy salad on flatbread. I understood Renée wanting a cupcake. I thought when men want pizza, they want fattening cheese and meats.

Renée and I ate on the area rug on the living room floor, chatting about work and friends from college. Kenny was silent, watching us talk as he ate from a fancy wheeled cart. Renée didn’t even own the cheap wooden TV-trays the rest of us use.

Okay, I admit it, every time he glanced at me, I got a little warmer. I thought about the gaps in the legs of his loose black shorts, wishing I could see inside. My nipples were so hard that my supposedly modest t-shirt bra was useless. My hard nipples were almost as obvious as Renée’s, though her shirt left nothing to the imagination.

After dinner, Renée suggested a romantic comedy. She politely offered me a space on the couch, but I said they could have it while I watched from the rug. The pile of pillows suggested I wasn’t the only person who liked to watching movies lying down. I borrowed a couple of pillows from Sheba the cat.

As they rearranged themselves on the couch, I moved to make sure I was able to easily look back at Kenny. As the movie started, Renée put her head in Kenny’s lap. I was envious.

I must have fallen asleep for part of the film, a result of driving a couple hundred miles. When I looked back at the couch, Kenny’s hand was under Renée’s cropped t-shirt, fondling her breasts and teasing her nipples. I quickly looked back to the screen, hoping they hadn’t noticed me watching.

After the movie ended, I stood up and stretched. Renée was sitting back up, with a hand on Kenny’s leg. She gave his dick a quick grab and then rose to her feet. When Kenny stood, his huge erection was impossible to ignore; his dick was pushing straight out in his shorts.

René led me to the guest room.

“If you need anything at all, let us know,” Renée said. “We’ll be up late.”

They were going to play a little tonight.

I stripped for bed. I pulled on my simple nightshirt and removed my panties. Being around that living Adonis all evening, I knew I had to take care of myself. Why bother with panties?

In the dark, my head pressed firmly into the pillow, I placed my right hand on the soft hair that surrounds my pussy. I felt the hair, imagining Kenny’s hand gently exploring me. I tightened and relaxed. Tightened and relaxed. I saw his six-pack abs, those tone legs, and his tight butt. Slowly, teasing my eager pussy, I inserted my finger. Dripping wet. I explored and arched my back.

Then, I stopped, with my finger inside my pussy. I hadn’t even started to play with my clit when I heard them. I listened intently. Yes, I could hear them from the guest room. Giggling and teasing. I kept imaging him, naked, fucking her, and before long it was me he was fucking in my fantasy. I was finger fucking myself with my right hand and rubbing my clit with the left. It was the best non-sex I’ve had in years.

Renée’s moans and grunts were too much to take. I sat up, put my feet on the carpet, and decided I was going to sneak a better listen. I quietly opened the guest room door and tiptoed down the hallway. It probably wasn’t necessary to walk so slowly and carefully. They were too busy to hear anything. Renée’s enthusiasm was loud enough to mask my bare footsteps and the pounding of my heart.

Before I reached the master bedroom, I noticed Sheba, the cat, slip out through the bedroom door. It was slightly ajar. I was tingling. Slowly, cautiously, I approached the door, listening to Renée and getting more envious with each sound she made.

There was a pause, some giggling, and words. I was unable to make out what was being said between them. Frustrated, I leaned against the door. To my horror, it opened half way. I started to panic. For some reason, I completely froze when I realized I could see their bed in the moonlight. They hadn’t stopped talking and teasing each other. Best of all, I could hear them clearly.

“I saw you looking at her tits.”

“Who? Me?” Kenny responded in mock innocence.

“Men and tits. Pitiful.” I bit my lower lip. I hadn’t realized she noticed his glances at my chest. Of course, it wasn’t like I hadn’t wanted him to stare. Renée continued, “My little flat chest just isn’t as much fun as real tits would be.”

My eyes, adjusting to the dim light, could tell Kenny was on his back and Renée was leaning over him. I was dripping wet, but wouldn’t dare do anything about it.

“You just want to tittie fuck her, don’t you?” Renée asked.

“Cumming on those tits would be something. And I bet they bounce around when she’s getting fucked.”

“Fine. You think about Chelly’s soft, bouncing boobies while I enjoy your cock. I’m just going to use you.”

Renée swung over Kenny, facing away from him. I watched as she used her right hand to place his cock right at her pussy, and then lowered herself. She rose up and down, using her bent knees to ride his dick. It was too much for me. I entered the room enough to watch them fuck. It was then that I noticed an outside light was shining on me through an opening between their bedroom curtains.

Reneé leaned forward while fucking Kenny, and smiled at me. Her nude body was so perfect compared to mine… and yet she was teasing Kenny about looking at me. Me!

“Oh, yes, Chelly has great tits. Soft, round boobs. A real woman’s breasts,” Kenny said, with Renée looking right at me.

Renée sat down on Kenny and paused. “Hmmm. I can feel that cock of yours throbbing.”

I couldn’t take it any more. I thought about her pussy teasing his dick and lifted my nightshirt. I wished I had trimmed a bit more. Renée could see my clump of pubic hair in the light. I inserted a finger and tightened my pussy, too.

Reneé rotated and faced her boyfriend. Kenny sat up and they were looking at each other, with Renée in his lap. She moved her legs and wrapped them around him.

He leaned towards her and kissed her left breast, and then did the same to the right. “I love your tits, too.” When Kenny looked over her shoulder, hugging her close, he froze momentarily.

“What’s wrong?” Renée asked. “Don’t stop now. Chelly expects a fucking damn good weekend.”

Kenny leaned Renée’s head back, towards the foot of the bed, until she was lying flat. He looked right at me and smiled. “I’m going to fuck you until you can’t take it anymore,” he whispered to Renée. And he thrust into her, again and again, while I rubbed myself.

Biting my lip wasn’t enough. As Renée moaned and shook, so did I. I spread my legs and began fingering myself deeply. She arched her back and seemed even more turned-on by the sight of me finger-fucking myself. “Fuck me. Come on, fuck me!” she screamed. She didn’t try to keep quiet. Neither did I.

“Yes, Kenny! Fuck her. Dammit, fuck her!” I shouted, as I shook with excitement and came.

They moved together, moaning and grunting and gasping. And then they paused. It was that quiet moment, after two people cum.

I stood there, gasping for air, as Renée sat and then reclined next to Kenny, draping an arm over him. “Chelly,” she said softly, “you probably want to sit down after all that.”

She was right; I could barely stand. Breathing quickly, with legs quivering, I sat on the corner of their bed.

With no embarrassment at all, Renée reached down started to tease Kenny’s cock hard again. It was dripping with their cum, making it easy for her to stroke and tease.

“Why don’t you take over, Chelly? I’m tired,” Renée giggled, then kissed Kenny. It was a long, passionate kiss. I could tell her tongue was teasing his. I couldn’t resist the offer and turned to face the naked pair. I slipped my nightshirt over my head, deciding no one cared. After all, Kenny wanted to see my bouncing boobs. I put my legs across Kenny’s. I grabbed his cock in my hand and stroked while they made out.

Stroking his dick was fun. There’s no other way to describe it. It was fun, especially as I watched them French kiss again and again. His dick was perfect, that ideal length and perfect diameter to wrap fingers, or a pussy, around it. Yet, I wasn’t jealous of Renée, so much as just turned on beyond anything I had felt before.

Just when I thought they were going to relax for the night, Renée rose again and put a knee on either side of Kenny’s face. “Lick me!” she said, and lowered her pussy to his mouth. “Lick me and I bet Chelly will pump your dick until you cum again.”

I put my legs under my butt so I was sitting on my heels, leaned down, and started to tease Kenny’s cock head with my tits. As he licked Renée, I took his cock and pumped with my left hand. There I was jerking his cock while Renée was getting her pussy teased. I couldn’t believe she was letting me play with him. Her pleasure and mine were connected, somehow.

After a few minutes, and with some help from her own hands, Renée came again. She curled up next to Kenny and placed her head on his chest, watching me tease his dick.

“Suck him if you want,” she whispered. “He loves it. But only if you want.”

The permission was too much to resist. It wasn’t that I love oral sex. No, it was something else. The idea that it was me he would be thinking about. Okay, maybe not only me, but at least some parts of me.

I managed an “Mmmmm” noise while sucking and stroking.

“Oh, yes,” Renée sighed, “keep sucking, please keep sucking.”

She watched me intently. I took him into my mouth as I felt his muscles tense. I lifted my head slowly and looked at Renée in dim light. She was touching herself and watching me play with Kenny’s cock. I stroked some more with my hand, pausing to rub the clear cum at the tip.

I leaned forward as his dick tensed again, this time shooting cum all over my tits. Renée lifted her head, leaned over Kenny, and kissed me on the cheek.

“Stay in here tonight. Then you won’t have to sneak in when we fuck in the morning,” she suggested, rubbing my cum-covered tits with her hand.

We curled up on either side of Kenny, who was soon asleep. Renée propped herself up on an elbow and whispered, while Kenny snored softly between us. She pulled up the white sheet, to her waist, leaving both of us exposed in the light.

“I’m sure he’ll never forget this, living the male fantasy. I’ve told him there’s no way I’d ever share my husband.“

“So why—?“

“We’re not married yet,” Renée said playfully, “and there is no other woman on this planet I’d let into this bed.”

“Because I’m not much of a threat?” I asked.

“Oh, you’d be a threat.” Renée leaned over her fiancé and lowered her voice even more. “You want to know his little secret?” I nodded in the dim light. “You see that picture of us in bikinis from spring break on my nightstand? I walked in on him jacking off looking at a few weeks ago. He didn’t see me, but I could tell Kenny was admiring your boobs.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond to that. It was weird to imagine.

We were both quiet. I rested on my side, one leg over Kenny, and closed my eyes. I’m not sure how much time passed before I felt Renée’s foot rubbing mine, then up my leg a little to get my attention.

“I need to fuck my man again.”

Renée lowered the thin cotton sheet. She scooted down a few inches and grabbed Kenny’s dick. She tightened her grip and the dick stiffened a little. Renée squeezed that beautiful dick rhythmically until it stood erect. Kenny was still asleep. I was impressed. I thought it was a myth that you could get a sleeping guy so hard.

I moved my leg so Renée could straddle Kenny. I watched as she spread her pussy open with both hands and lowered onto Kenny’s dick. She sat there and looked at me. I could feel my pussy getting hotter. My nipples hardened and my cheeks were flush.

“I do love Kenny’s cock inside me. It’s so perfect!” Renée wiggled a little. “Get in front of me.”

“What?” I asked for clarification.

“Get in front of me so he can enjoy your bouncing boobs while I fuck him.”

I wasn’t sure about this, especially how we’d make it work. I swung around, putting one knee on either side of Kenny. Renée rocked onto one knee, then other, placing her legs outside mine. My legs were alongside Kenny. Renée was definitely lucky to have that dick inside her. Without warning, she pushed me forward. I caught myself with my hands on either side of Kenny’s head. My tits fell right into his face. Needless to say, he woke up a little shocked. I lifted myself with my arms.

“Shit!” he exclaimed. He pulled back. “Renée?!” He was a little panicked, it seemed, looking at me on top of him. I’m sure he assumed it was my pussy he felt.

“Shut up, Kenny,” Renée responded, “I need to be fucked.” I could feel Renée sliding up and down Kenny’s dick behind me. “Just suck those boobs and enjoy yourself.”

I hoped he would do as told. He just laid there, though, so I leaned forward and aimed my left nipple right at his mouth. I felt Renée wrap her arms around me as she fucked Kenny. Then I felt her hands below my breasts, making sure Kenny couldn’t resist. He took the nipple into his mouth and sucked. Then he bit gently, ever so gently. I moaned and he sucked harder. Renée fucked him vigorously. I rotated, presenting my right breast to Kenny, which he lustfully sucked. As he sucked, I felt his tongue play with my nipple. It was spectacular, and I wasn’t even getting fucked.

Renée leaned up and pulled me with her, since her arms were still wrapped around me. I felt her thrusting against my butt. Her hands rose and she cupped my breasts with them. Then she pinched each nipple slightly. I moaned again. As she fucked Kenny and pinched my nipples, I had to reach down and finger myself again. My clit was so erect it was sticking straight out. I rubbed my palm against the clit while fingering myself.

I felt Renée tremble and knew she was cumming. One of her hands moved down to my pussy, pausing over my own hand.

“Move that damn hand,” she whispered into my ear. I did, and felt her fingers start exploring. I couldn’t believe she was doing this. I started to pulse in synch with my best friend. I came, dripping onto Kenny. He thrust upward, ramming his dick into Renée. It was too intense. We were all moaning and gasping and grunting.

It was the best fuck I never had.

Renée released me and rolled off Kenny, onto her side. I rolled to the opposite side. She moved her hand to his lips. He kissed and sucked each finger, tasting my cum.

“What just happened?” Kenny finally managed to ask, panting between words.

“You just had the closest you’re ever getting to a full-on threesome,” Renée said, and then kissed Kenny with more passion than I’ve ever seen.

Renée looked at me and smiled in the early pink light of dawn. “We’re going to the lake today with Kenny’s best friend. Wait until you see him. And I happen to know Grant thinks you’re hot, too.”

“How do you know that?”

“Kenny brought him by the office yesterday. Grant was staring at the pictures in my cubicle. He asked who the cute brunette was. That’s when I invited him to join us at the lake.”

“I’m really too busy for a relation—“

“No, you’re not,” Renée hushed me, laying down with her head on Kenny’s chest. “And you’ll be sexier than ever.”

I smiled to myself because I knew she was right. I felt pretty damn good about myself.

Feeling Beautiful

“It was a great weekend, Ms. Simone,” Chelly said with a distant gaze. She was enjoying the memory. She was glowing after sharing her story. I’m sure I was glowing a bit, too.

“Did you meet this Grant fellow?” I asked.

Chelly nodded, once again a little self-conscious.

“I take it things went well?”

Chelly sipped her coffee and I sipped the tea she had brought for me.

“Yes. Things went very well.” She looked around the room. “I thought only perfect people had wild adventures. The beautiful people.”

“You are beautiful,” I corrected.

“Yeah.” Chelly paused, and then smiled broadly. “Yes, I am.”

That is one reason I collect these stories. Being sexy is having the right attitude. Sometimes we need a little help discovering that confidence. Chelly might have found it that weekend. Now she needs to keep it. If she does, Grant will be one lucky man.

Women talk to me because they have questions, too. I waited in silence and sipped my drink.

“Did we just give Kenny what every guy fantasizes about? Or was there something else?”

“What else could it have been?” I gently prodded. Women seem to resist admitting their own desires and needs.

“Was it my fantasy, too?”

“Did it seem unfair to you, like he was getting more than you were?”

“Oh, no. I’m still getting a lot out of that night.”

Chelly leaned closer, to share what she was really wanting to share.

“Renée is my best friend. Sharing like that was so amazing. It was more about us, like were just using Kenny as a toy. We were using him, weren’t we?”

“I’m sure he’s okay with that,” I commented.

We talked for another hour, exploring what it means to share something so personal with a friend.