SARAH stood in the hall outside Dane's room, a bottle of single malt whisky in one of her clammy hands.
She was shaking, nerves had consumed her.
This seemed like a good idea last night but now standing in the hallway outside her best friend's room she was getting cold feet, metaphorically but not literally.
Her feet themselves were bare, clammy - not due to the early summer weather no she was clammy all over despite having a shower just minutes earlier.
She wiped a sweaty palm on her new green chiffon and lace negligee. It was beautiful, if a little itchy. but it didn't matter, she didn't imagine it would be staying on long. Spaghetti straps held the dress on her body, a lace bodice hid some, but not all, of her from sight. It was aimed at giving you a glimpse of the girl underneath, without being too obvious, well according to the woman in the store this afternoon that is. You could just make dark circles of her areola and nipples, which were more erect than she would have liked, making themselves known. The lace fitted around her pert breasts, which were lifted, with a swell of flesh showing at the top. It followed down her torso, stopping in a slight v just above the place that was the focus of this evening, a ballerina length skirt of similar green chiffon fell in ribbons from her hips, offering glimpses of her legs but not the v between them. She had washed with the body wash he always seemed to like. Her hair was down, but a little straightened, tendrils curling around and framing her face. Her make-up was light, just enough to add colour and definition but not enough to leave her with panda eyes in the morning.
Oh hell.
The morning.
That's what she needed - a reminder of what she was about to do - not that she could easily forget.
Sarah Huntington was about to spend the night with her best friend. Sure she'd done that before, camping or top and tailing at friends places when there weren't enough beds. But never like this, never this exposed and never in the way, they were planning.
She felt like a virgin sacrifice - though she was making this decision all on her own. There was no forced marriage, no marriage at all. She wondered if other women, her forebears, had stood in this 400-year-old hallway on the cusp of womanhood like she was. That's what generations before believed, wasn't it? You weren't a woman until some man had been inside you and broken your hymen? Sarah had always thought that was crap, she wondered if she'd feel the same after she and Dane...........
She took a deep breath - tempted to open the Scotch and take another swig before she knocked on the door. She'd had a quite a bit of wine already with dinner, it was a good vintage - he'd gone all out to woo her and to get them both uninhibited enough to do this.
Actually, it had been a lovely day. Dane had been his usual self, wanting to do this right and she thought they had.
They left the house around 9 am this morning to travel the hour and a half into the major town. Neville had still been in bed when they left. He'd had much more to drink than either Dane or Sarah last night and didn't need to meet up with Maddy until later in the afternoon so she let him sleep, he was going through a tough time of it at the moment with his parent's divorce. Though only Dane, Sarah, and Petra knew. Neville tended to confide in Petra, she wished he'd finish up with Maddy and realise where his heart really lay but, he wasn't the type to settle down, not yet and she wasn't naive enough to think that Maddy was the only girl he was seeing either. He was going to university in Scotland and then into the family business and Petra was studying abroad so it wasn't worth wishing for anything yet but one day maybe.
The trip had been fun though. Dane had teased her for her reading material "A Frank Guide To Sex". "Who's Frank?" he'd asked laughing at it. But he'd be glad she'd read up on the subject a little later when she knew what she was doing.
"You're taking the spontaneity out of it Fox!" he'd whined but she figured he was just jealous she could read in the car. Every time Dane had tried over the years he'd ended up throwing up out the window.
"Let's not over think this Fox, let's just enjoy our day," he'd sighed when she tried to explain the best angle for penetration or what they should do to prepare their bodies.
"I'm only trying to make it a more enjoyable experience!" she'd explained.
"Put the book down and just hang out with me, " he implored.
Eventually, she gave in and turned on the radio. They'd spent the rest of the trip singing at the top of their voices and mucking around and just being the friends they were. It was nice and what she needed but she wasn't going to tell Dane that, the smug git that he could be.
The town was bustling on a Saturday morning, people going everywhere but Sarah and Dane had been in no hurry and spent the morning wandering hand in hand, checking out different stores, buying wine, cheese, and other supplies for their evening. They'd enjoyed a nice long alfresco lunch at a little cafe just off the town square, talking excitedly about the next part of their break, Cambridge, their futures.
Sure they'd written to each other about these things but it was nice to have time to talk as they held hands across the table. And then they'd gone their own separate ways for an hour or so. Tom buying whatever it was he needed and Sarah finding the little lingerie shop, she'd visited with her aunt on a few occasions.
Usually she'd just get bras and knickers but she'd wanted something special for tonight, something that would get her friend "in the mood" - she wished Jane was there or Petra but she couldn't really ring Jane and ask her what she should buy to make it easier for her brother to pop her cherry. She loved Jane like a sister but it wasn't really something you brought up, was it? So I'm going to fuck your brother tonight - what do you think will make him hard? Yeah, probably not and Petra would tell Neville. So she'd been on her own, though not entirely, the young shop assistant, an Irish girl called Anna had cottoned on pretty fast what and who was going down, remembering her from previous visits and trying to help her relax, promising they wouldn't tell her aunt. She and her co-worker had brought in several things - mainly white and virginal as they chatted on about their own first experiences. But they weren't right and neither was the red, despite her colouring and then as the pair asked her about the man in question, her eyes apparently sparkled green and suddenly they found the perfect outfit. It had hugged her curves and made her feel womanly and ready for this.
Now outside the door to his room she just felt like a little girl playing dress-ups; back when she bought it, with the outfit in it's fancy box, she had felt empowered. In fact she was still smiling to herself, and refusing to show him what she'd bought, when they met up and for a romantic walk through the big local park before driving home. They picked up some food in the village two miles down the road and cooked up a big batch of Margaret's Hilditch's spaghetti bol - flirting and drinking wine and then eating and drinking wine and then........they'd cleaned up and he'd excused himself.
They'd decided earlier driving home that his room would be the place for the BIG moment.
It felt right, it was the place they'd become friends and they'd both promised that they'd still be friends after whatever it was they were doing happened or didn't happen tonight. Over the dinner and wine, they'd decided that if one of both of them thought they couldn't go through with it, then that was okay too. There would be no hard feelings. However, so far neither of them had backed out.
And now here they were.
She was standing outside his door wondering if she really could actually go through with this.
Sarah wiped her hand on her dress again, re-gripped the bottle and knocked with a shaking hand. She didn't know why she was so nervous, this was Will and he'd never hurt her and she wanted this, if she was totally honest she'd wanted this for a while. Wondered what it would be like, what HE would be like.
The HE in question opened the door like he had been standing behind it waiting, and he had, wondering if she'd turn up, still wondering if he'd be up to the task.
Dane was wearing the black satin boxers and dressing gown his mother had bought him for Christmas and he was nervous as hell.
He could do this though, Fox was counting on him right?
He could be a man for her. He wondered if there was more pressure because it was Fox, his friend, he didn't want to disappoint her because they had history and they had a future, he hoped they'd always be friends. He wondered again if this was really a good idea and then, then he saw her and she was literally breath-taking, he could hardly breathe as he drank her in.
"Beautiful," he whispered and she blushes profusely looking down, anywhere but at him, as she crossed the threshold.
"I brought the Scotch," she said thrusting it out at him, still not looking up. He was used to that, eye contact wasn't her strong suit, though not usually with him. He took a more relaxed breath realising that she was every bit as nervous as he was. He kind of thought she'd just take it as the next stage in her life and get on with it, but she was scared and showing it and somehow in his head, knowing her so well, he realised that she was placing a lot of importance in this, she wanted it too, wanted him. He was touched, he wanted to convey that, that he was glad that she was the one, but instead, he lamely thanked her as he took the bottle from her shaking hand.
She looked up then.
"Oh wow!" Her green eyes twinkled. He'd gone all out. All out for this, for them, for her.
"Do you like it?"
She nodded - it was beautiful.
The dressing table, fire hearth, and mantle flickered with candles. The bed was spread with rose petals, two whisky glasses filled with ice sat on the side table, along with biscuits and cheese and a large bottle of water. A red rose sat on the left pillow along with a copy of Shakespeare's Sonnets.
There were condoms on the other table.
Sarah went red at the sight. It made it real.
This was happening.
"Um if it's okay, we won't need those," she said pointing with her head. "I, well I've never been regular so well I'm on the pill and since you haven't um, put it anywhere else then um."
She looked up and smiled. He had a surprised look on his face.
"How long? You never told me that?" he asked.
She laughed. "I don't tell you everything!"
"Bloody near - we know things about each other that I don't know about our other friends or even my family," he laughed nervously, putting out a hand to touch her, to say more but she jumped at his touch and he pulled back like a scalded cat.
Instead, he offered her a drink and she nodded awkwardly. He poured the whisky, the ice in the glasses clinked as he handed it to her and their fingers touched again. Electricity shot in both directions. Their eyes widened and she damned near sculled her drink, spluttering as the unfamiliar liquor burned and warmed her throat, willing it to calm her nerves. He watched and did the same. Wondering how they were going to do this. Maybe they shouldn't?
"We don't have to do this," he said unsteadily, as she offered him her glass. He put them both down on the table and filled them again - just in case.
"Nnnn no - I want this, I want to," she looked wide-eyed at him, he nodded glad she wasn't pulling the pin but feeling the nervous energy curl in his stomach trying to think of a way forward.
"Maybe we should just sit on the bed and I could kiss you?" he asked.
She nodded, following his lead, sitting close, turning her body so their legs touched, trying not to move her legs away when they made contact, willing herself to stay.
He leaned in, touched her face - she shivered.
His lips touched hers and gently he kissed her.
She sighed.
This was familiar, they'd been here before, she tried not to think ahead, just enjoy the kiss, she liked to kiss him, she liked it a lot.
These days it was usually just a friendly peck but this was nice, as his tongue found her mouth and her hands went to his curls, his arms went around her pulling her closer until she was in his lap, kissing him, nerves dissipating for the moment.
"So beautiful," he whispered on her neck near ear, she'd never been kissed there before, the nerves in her stomach reasserted themselves at that thought, making her want to throw-up in anticipation (oh that would be a passion killer) and then he kissed her again and she moaned without meaning too.
"You're so fucking beautiful," he groaned.
"You look so amazing."
"You do too," she countered, feeling a little bolder, pushing the black satin from his shoulders.
He shook his arms from the sleeves and his torso was bare.
He shivered but it couldn't be from cold, the house was drafty but this was a warm late July day. He was beautiful too - like one of the statues her father loved so much, thin but well proportioned and toned.
She tentatively ran her hand over his bare back, he shivered again at her touch and then she felt something under her twitch. She jumped in surprise before realising what it was.
"Oh god I'm sorry," he apologised. "It's, I don't have a lot of control."
She giggled nervously. "It kind of needs to be hard doesn't it?"
He nodded, giggling too - it was all a bit weird, awkward and yet the moment they stopped talking and kissed, it felt right again.
So he pulled her close and kissed her and then surprisingly things stopped happening. He sighed. Reaching for his scotch and taking a big sip.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
"I think I'm a bit nervous, it's um not behaving," he sighed, if he didn't want to have sex then he'd have come in his pants and now he really wanted it, the damn thing was going on strike.
She got off his lap and motioned for him to stand, then she shocked him, running her hands down his body and taking his shorts down with her.
"I read something about performance anxiety please let me help," she said not game to look him in the eye. He stood there shocked as she sunk to her knees. Even only partially erect, he was bigger than she expected and she wondered how she was going to do this without gagging or choking or throwing up. But she knew one of them had to take the initiative or this night would be over before it began.
"Ooh you're circumcised I didn't know that," she said trying to make small talk in typical Sarah speak. He groaned. "Fox I'm not a science............"
The rest of his sentence was lost in a moan as she took him into her mouth. She was timid and a little inept but his noises and urging emboldened her, she experimented with what she felt comfortable with and what she liked, unable to keep him in her mouth too long with her jaw aching, instead she used her tongue and hands until he was near bursting, his hands in her hair. He needed to pull away, he knew that, but she felt good, this was so much better than his own hand but he wasn't sure this was a good idea, he had to hold on until he could release somewhere other than her mouth or her body but it was sooooo bloody good, he had to warn her, he had to..........he groaned and jerked and then bliss. It caught her off guard, happening before she really realised what was going on, in surprise, she fell back on her arse as he let lose accidentally painting her face and other parts with cum.
"I'm sorry so sorry, you surprised me," she apologized still sat on her arse on his bedroom floor.
"No it was my fault, I, you just," he was still having trouble with coherent sentences, coming down from one hell of an orgasm. You couldn't get that on your own, yeah he might be going to enjoy this sex thing. But the euphoria was cut short as she jumped up and ran across the room into the bathroom.
"Hell," he thought. He'd scared her off, ruined the moment, this was all they would do tonight. Maybe she'd never talk to him again.
But then suddenly she was back armed with a couple of towels. She wiped her face and breasts with one towel and threw it to him and then she pulled back the covers and placed the other towel on the bed. He looked at her quizzically.
"For you know if I bleed when we do it," she said answering his unasked question.
"You still want to?" he was amazed that he hadn't frightened her off. She nodded.
"I need recovery time, I can't just, well you know, um bounce straight back."
She reached over to her scotch glass and took a big deep drink of dutch courage before coming back to whisper her proposal in his ear. Dane thought he'd die, then and there, stone dead. She eyed him coyly, shyly but what she'd said was anything but shy, he was shocked but it spurred him on, riled him up.
He kissed her again then, tasting himself there, groaning as she ran her hands over his naked body. She had too many clothes on, he needed to see her, her request to "eat my pussy Will" had been dirty and erotic and he wanted to do it so badly it hurt. He moved his hands across her shoulders and the straps fell, the top of her dress came down and there they were, pert and beautiful, standing to attention. His cock twitched. She shivered a little nervous, trying to cover herself a little self-consciously as he touched and then sucked and possessed, she lost her inhibitions, moaned, shimmied and her dress fell to the floor. His eyes widened.
"Oh god beautiful more beautiful than I even imagined," he whispered picking her up and carrying her to the bed.
"You imagined?" she asked a little breathlessly.
"Mmmm," he said kissing her again, deep, hungry, he didn't want to talk now, he was still shit scared and nervous but curiosity and lust had got the better of him. He put her on the bed and thought he'd pass out when she moved to tentatively open her legs, a hand going to cover her modesty. He moved gently, slowly, he didn't have a clue what he was doing, they didn't exactly give you cunnilingus lessons at school but he was going to give it a good try. She helped, guided, asked, motioned, moaned and then he felt her body bow and oh my god are girls supposed to do that? No one had told him but he didn't want to give himself away, instead he just took it as read and kissed up her body until his lips reached hers. They were kissing wildly and he was ready, more than ready and so was she. He wanted her, could smell her, feel her heat and she could feel him hard against her stomach, her heart was hammering almost faster than his. He was up off her and the pertinent part of his anatomy was acting like a heat seeking missile, it smelt a girl and it wanted her, he wanted her. But this was his Fox and it was about her too.
"Are you sure?" he asked one more time. She nodded quickly.
"I'll be gentle Sarah, I promise," he whispered quietly in her ear as he moved in pushing, slowly dying and coming alive with each movement. She was tight and wet, so wet. She kept eye contact with him, holding him tight as he felt resistance and pushed through. She hissed a little as he felt something break and he breached her, possessed her and she engulfed him, her beautiful eyes wide, trying to hide the pain, the white heat that was coursing through her.
She moved to grab her drink.
"No, not yet, let me take a minute," he said stilling her, trying not to have this over before it began.
"Okay," he said steadying his breathing as she reached for the scotch and took a few sips. Then he moved, gently at first, but it was too good, the friction, hell he could stay in her like this forever, she winced and he realised that while he was hand in glove she had a foreign object between her legs.
"It's okay Sarah, oh baby, it's okay, touch yourself, help me," he said breathlessly looking for anything for her to enjoy it as much as he was, kissing her, touching her. And then suddenly her fingers were moving and she was coming, doing things to him inside her that were too much, too too much and he moaned, so did she and they tipped over the edge, over into sweet oblivion together as he whispered sonnets in her ear.
They lay, her tucked in his arms, afterward, he had a protective arm around her, holding her close to him like she was the most precious thing in the world to him -she was, though he was smart enough not to admit it. They were sharing a bottle of water back and forward like those two little kids had done six years earlier. But they weren't little kids now, she'd made him a man, a man who'd made love to a woman.
They talked quietly in the dark about everything and nothing, things you don't say in public or out loud. He had switched to her college at Cambridge, he knew about her father's heart disease, he'd always be there for her. He told her of his plans for RADA after university, she told him of her plans for Royal Shakespeare, the BBC, the National Library. She'd never felt closer to anyone in her life now, not when they were having sex, but now snuggled together laying in his arms. He told her of his fears that he wouldn't be enough man, she told him she'd been convinced she die a virgin.
"I'm not great with boys, I doubt I'll ever find one to marry," she'd confided. He laughed - she had him and he was a boy - well no a man now.
But he was a long way from settling down and so was she and they both knew it. Neither one wanted to lose their friendship, as nice as this was. They were realists both too ambitious for anything more than friendship now. She'd said it and he'd reluctantly agreed.
"But what if we're both still on our own at 35 and all our friends have babies and partners and we don't?" he asked. She laughed languidly, more than a little drunk and very relaxed and happy. "Then if you still want babies we can make them together," she sighed on the edge of sleep.
It was a throwaway line. Something said in jest, something that was far from Dane's mind as he packed to go and film a movie sixteen years later.
It was three days after Sarah's 35th birthday. Three days since another drunken night had ended in bed.
It had been so different from that first nervous tentative evening and yet he'd never felt as comfortable with a woman as he did with Fox that first night - until now, back with her in his arms again. But he hadn't rung like he promised, he'd got busy, he was going away. He wondered if he was running away. It felt right, they shouldn't have done it but they had and it had felt right. But now he had to live with the fact that he'd slept with the woman that had always been his friend, often his best friend. Had always been there for him and him for her. She'd worked with him on projects, she'd got drunk with him when he wasn't getting parts or he'd broken up with some other girl. She'd always been there, they were way past silly infatuations now, they had something better than sex and romance, they had real love, platonic but deep love. He had loved her like a sister, a best friend. And now he'd gone and fucked it all up.
The best thing he could do was to move forward and pretend it had never happened, return to the status quo. Put some distance between and let the dust settle, let them return to their old relationship.
Yeah that was the best thing he could do right?