Practice
by Pan
“Why are you even here?” Lindsay asked with a scowl. “You know Jeff doesn’t get home until eight.”
“I know,” Michael replied with a shrug. “He said I could come by early.”
“I wish he wouldn’t,” Lindsay muttered, loudly enough that she knew Mike could hear it.
She didn’t understand what her boyfriend saw in his ‘best friend’. They’d known each other since childhood, and if she could have had her way about it, that would have been the last time they hung out.
But Jeff was loyal—it was one of the things she loved about him. She’d been cheated on before, and finding someone as caring and affectionate and loving as her boyfriend wasn’t easy.
She was determined to hang onto him, to do him right.
Even if his best friend was a sleaze.
“Thanks,” she said, rolling her eyes, as Michael handed her a beer. Like they were his beers, like he hadn’t just gone into her kitchen and—without asking—grabbed one of her beers. He’d even opened it for her; what a presumptuous asshole.
As she took her first sip, she realized Michael was watching her carefully.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he said, a smile appearing on his face as she took another gulp of the cool beverage. “I was just wondering why the hell Jeff and you are having problems in the bedroom.”
Lindsay instinctively raised her eyebrows. She and Jeff had never had…—
Lindsay blinked twice, then nodded.
“Yeah,” she said, annoyed that her boyfriend had shared the intimate details of their love-life with his creepiest friends. “I mean, it happens to everyone after a few years, right?”
“Nope,” Michael replied. Again, Lindsay’s face flashed with indignation, and she opened her mouth to…—
Agree.
“You’re right,” she said. Fucking Michael. Why couldn’t he just let her pretend that this was a common problem?
“The problem is probably head,” he said cautiously, almost like he was testing the waters. Now Lindsay knew he was trying to provoke her—Jeff had told her on many, many occasions that…—
“Probably,” she sighed. “I mean, that makes the most sense, right?”
Right?
“Uh huh,” Michael said. His demeanor had changed, somehow. He was more confident. Cocky.
Cockier than normal, even.
“I’ll tell you what,” he continued, after a thoughtful pause. “I actually know a lot about these matters.”
Yeah, as if a creep like him would…—
Lindsay nodded. He was an expert, after all.
“Why don’t you practice on me?”
Lindsay narrowed her eyes, genuinely confused by the question.
“Practice what?”
“Giving head is a skill that you master over time. I want you to practice your cock-sucking ability on me. On my cock.”
Lindsay’s eyes widened. How dare he suggest that…that…—
“Good girl,” he smiled down at her. She was on her knees in front of the couch he was sitting on, her hands already unzipping his pants. Normally Lindsay didn’t like being called a ‘good girl’, especially by a creepazoid like her boyfriend’s best friend, but as the words rolled around her head, she had to acknowledge a certain truth to them. She was being a good girl. She was practicing sucking cock so she could better please her boyfriend.
“Thanks,” she said, before lowering her mouth onto his waiting erection.
Normally Lindsay was turned on while she sucked cock. Of course, normally it was the cock of someone she was in a loving relationship with, and not a waste of space she was forced to interact with purely due to proximity.
But in some ways, it was good that she wasn’t aroused. It allowed her to focus, to really give the blowjob everything she had. She pulled out every trick she had—deep-throating, playing with Michael’s balls, maintaining eye-contact. She even moaned and panted like she was about to get off.
Of course, normally she wasn’t faking.
Within a few minutes, Michael was cumming down her throat. She swallowed his first string down enthusiastically, then pulled out so he could shoot his second load onto her face, and watch some of it drop down onto her tits. She knew guys liked that.
“Well, I have some good news and some bad news.”
“What’s the good news?” Lindsay asked.
“Finish your beer first,” Michael instructed.
“I’m not thirs…—“
His smile was back as she gulped down the rest of the bottle. It gave her a warm glow—normally she didn’t pound down alcohol like a frat boy, but Michael was right. It would help relax her while he gave her the news.
“The good news is that you’re great at giving head.”
“Okay, inappropr…—“
Michael tilted his head to the side.
“Thanks,” she smiled. It was always nice to receive a compliment.
“The bad news is that it must be something else.”
Lindsay followed Michael’s eyes. He was glancing at the clock on the wall.
“We still have forty minutes before Jeff gets home. Is he ever early?”
“No, he’s nev…—“
“He is!” Lindsay said firmly. “All the time.”
Rolling his eyes, Michael muttered something under his breath. Unlike her own jab earlier that night, it clearly wasn’t intended for her ears, but she managed to catch the gist of it. “Better be careful of what I say”, or something like that.
Why would he have to be…—
Lindsay totally agreed. It was important to be careful of what you said.
“I’m going to fuck you now,” Michael said slowly. “We might have to do this a lot, to practice. You don’t want to disappoint Jeff, do you?”
Clenching her fists, Lindsay stood up. Who the fuck did this little ratbag think he…—
“Of course not,” Lindsay replied, biting her lip nervously as she lowered her pants. God, she hoped that all this practice paid off.
She just wanted to be the best girlfriend she could be.