Goodbye Cheri, part two

We went back over to the bar. The Manhattans that Brian made were almost as stiff as he was, and I was feeling it a little. After he served us- another round for Cheri and I, a beer for Garrett- he gave us a wink and went over with a damp bar towel to take care of the table. And the wall.
"I'm going to miss you, Cheri," I said. I'd said it before, and I hoped I said it enough. It was true. She was my best friend, and she was moving to San Francisco.
She put her head on my shoulder. "You'll come visit. I'll come visit."
"You'll come, alright," said Garrett. When Cheri and I lived together he would come over and they would smoke weed. She'd make dinner, and we'd sit around and watch documentaries on Cheri's laptop. He was handsome, a year or two older than us, and from Cheri's hometown on the East Coast. His type was firmly of the nubile-sporty-young girl, so it never crossed my mind he might be interested in either of us.
Until that night.
"I think I might take him home for one last dance around his huge May Pole," said Cheri, sipping her Manhattan. She looked pointedly at Brian, who was bending over the table. I was a bit disappointed, having looked forward to one last slumber party with Cheri.
Either way, it was my cue to cut out of there, so after I finished my drink, I got up. Garrett did too. The bar was closing in a few minutes anyway. We set our glasses down, and Garrett and I gave Cheri a big hug and a kiss.
"Call me as soon as you get there safely," I said. I put on my coat and walked on out of the bar. I was definitely tipsy, but not drunk. I was mostly sleepy, and not looking forward to a ride back. Garrett offered to let me sleep at his place and drive me home in the morning, on his way to work.
I yawned. "That sounds good."
"Come on then, miss," he said, offering me his arm.
He had a sweet little apartment, part of a complex built in the 1950s with a courtyard. It was a two bedroom, and his roommate was in the other one. His roommate was weird, so I was uncertain about sleeping on the couch, but Garrett had a king and he offered me half.
"I do fart in my sleep," he said, as a warning. "Or so I've heard."
"Maybe they're all liars," I said, sitting down on the edge and taking off my heels. I was excited about the way this was going. I doubted it was innocent. Garrett turned off the light and we undressed in the dark. I hung my dress over the back of his chair, and found a t-shirt. Behind me, I heard the creak of the bed, and Garrett clearing his throat as he got in.
"Fluffy pillow or flat?" he said, as I pulled the covers over me. His hand brushed against my back as he scooted the flat pillow to my side of the bed. "Is that my t-shirt? I hope it's not the my come-rag one."
"Gross," I said, and laughed, punching his shoulder, just so I could touch him again. Then I turned my back to him. I really was tired, too tired to make a move, although I wanted to. He pulled me close. "Is this ok?" he asked. I told him yes, and he began feeling up the front of the shirt. "I'm just trying to figure out what t-shirt it is."
His hands found my breasts, feeling first over the t-shirt, rubbing my rapidly swelling nipples. He gave my neck exploratory kisses. A moment later, he slipped his hand under the shirt and grasped my nipples, rolling them between his fingers, pulling them, lavishing all sort of attentions on them. His right hand dug between my waist and the bed, sliding down my hip bone and right to the edge of my panties.
I kept perfectly motionless, getting off on the sensation of being molested in my sleep. At some point, I expected him to flip me over and kiss me on the mouth. His hand slid over my shaved mons, index finger pressing into my slot. My clit was already swelling, Garrett's slow movements only made it stiffer. He played with it slowly and lightly.
It was close to two in the morning by that time, and I was exhausted. I've always been a morning person, and my brain was shutting down from tiredness. Garrett's erotic manipulations gave the feeling that I was in some hot, wet dream. I ground my ass against his now-hard cock. It pressed up against his belly, and he wedged it between my ass cheeks.
Still, he worked my nipples, pulling them now, giving each of my tits equal attention. A few times he dug his thumbnail in, just hard enough to make all my blood flow to my pussy at the sudden sweet, sharp pain. My whole pelvic area felt tight, and then Garrett slid his fingers down into my gash. It was sopping. He worked two digits in and out of my messy hole.
I reached down and hooked thumb into the edge of my panties, twisting out of them. Garrett stopping touching me for long enough to pull his briefs down, and I felt the hard, fleshy heat of a big cock. It stuck on my soft ass. The tip was slobbering enough to leave a damp trail down my right cheek as he slid its blunt head between my legs.
We humped for a few minutes, the friction of his cock thrusting between his legs bringing me closer and closer to coming. He had a hold on my hips, and the shaft jammed in and out, my pussy lips and clit clinging to it for dear life, drooling thick creamy juice. A few times, his bell end nosed upwards to the entrance, and he pushed it past again at the last minute.
Finally, Garrett let go of my hip and actually pushed my clitoris down so it touched his penis, sticking to it in his motions, and it drove me over the edge.
"I'm coming," I whispered, my body jerking, my whole pussy areas tightening, and then releasing. "Ohhhhh. Ahhhhh. Ohhhhh."
Then came that hot sensation, the wet sensation of my pussy exploding. Garrett didn't give me a chance to relax, he grabbed my hair and pushed my face into the pillow. My body followed, and I could tell he wanted me from behind, but when I tried to get on my knees, he pressed my hips back down into the soft mattress.
"Like this," he said. "Oh, please."
He heaved his body onto mine, and finally he thrust his fat thing into my tunnel. He groaned loudly and long as it buried its fat red head, rooting around in my wet inside. He was so strong, lifting and sliding his body on top of mine, his chest mashed against my back as he fucked me. I was being pressed into the bed, violated, and it was driving me towards another explosion.
His cock seemed to touch every inch of my pussy, exploring my slick folds and engorged clit, sliding back and forth, back and forth. At the same time, my body lay helpless. Because of the way I lay, I literally couldn't move, every sensation was concentrated on my lower body.
"Where do you want me to come?" he whispered, and that did it. My hips began to shake uncontrollably, and Garrett sped up.
"I want you to come all over my ass," I said. "Come for me, come all over my big ass."
At the same time that I pumped out another wave of wetness, he pulled out, slapping his dong between my butt cheeks, pressing my throbbing clit hard into the sheets. He grunted and stilled, and felt a warm sensation as he glazed my buns, each spurt filling the air with the sweet smell of come.
"Oh my god," he said, rolling off me. "That felt good."
I knelt, and he helped me to pull the t-shirt off and wipe down my back.
"Now it's the come-rag one," I whispered, and he laughed, wrapping his arms around me, and we fell asleep that way.

Anyway, I hope that doesn't ruin our friendship. I know Cheri always had the hots for Garrett, so she'll be jealous he fucked me, but not for long. I think I may start working on a story for a contest. It would be good to take a break from the novel, but the end is in sight as far as that goes, and I may totally finish it first and then let it sit for a month before I edit.