I have this, kind of a friend, but it was always impossible to see her as just a friend. I have known her for a long time, we are in this, larger group of art oriented enthusiasts, that do these niche gatherings, and visits.
To say that she stood out would be an understatement, tall, slim, long legs, very beautiful. Of course, I tried my best to get something done with her, but she just wasn't interested.
The number of times I jerked off to the thought of her, would be measured in thousands at this point. But, as time moved on, she gained a few extra pounds, still hot, still beautiful, but at the same time, I smelled some success, started dating good looking women, who I would bring to these things, from time to time. When we started approaching 40, I saw a spark of interest, maybe an oversimplified view -- lets say that she wasn't cold to me all together, as she used to be for years.
So, this kind of flirting started, intertwined with sexual allusions. "Tonight's the night", I would jokingly say, and she would ask - what night - "the night you will give in and spend a night with me". That sort of thing.
In a strange way, it was obvious that she wasn't into me, but the whole new me, with hot dates, and new found self esteem, worked like some reverse psychology thing - she liked that I was interested in her, after all these years, while being able to date at such level... I guess, I don't know.
One night, after the art exhibit, from one of our friends in the group, we all went to a bar, to celebrate. After some liquid courage, I was all over her, and she was her usual self, but smiling while I flirted, and flirted back, just a little, so she keeps me interested. I was persistent for her to come to my place, and she was saying no, and at that point I said that I will have sex with her that night, in reality or in fantasy, but at least a blow job would be better than just being by myself.
I usually do not talk like that, but I guess it was the booze. She did come to my place, and oh my God, I was so ready to fuck her, but, after we started kissing in my living room, just as we walked in, she got on her knees, still clothed, and blew me. Got upset that I came on her face, tried to dodge it, but I held her hair and made her take it. She was smiling as soon as she got out of the bathroom.
And that was it. Years have passed since then, and despite all of my efforts, nothing similar never occurred again.
I still jerk off to the memory of that blow job.
