[M4F] Friendzoned by your stud best friend

BFFs with an unrequited love were nothing new, but it being the guy that spurned the advances certainly was. It didn't make sense on paper- the girl, desperately simping for the guy, who refused to let his cock come anywhere near her aching cunt. But it didn't have to, as truth is not constrained to needing to be "believable" like fiction.

I was a catch. Not just a "catch", but a legendary catch, with washboard abs, a third leg, and a smoldering smile that belonged on movie posters. It wasn't like I was a prude with who I bedded- I had just never bedded you. And god knows that you'd given me plenty of chances.

You'd known that I was the only one for you since we had been kids. Maybe that was it- that as sweet, innocent children, you'd overplayed your hand with your talk of us getting married. It was only natural that my teasing of "nuh uh! I'm going to marry a girl with brown hair! Or maybe red! Maybe both!" would be engrained in to the way that I viewed you- as fundamentally always open, but never worth my time, a toy to play with when bored. Maybe that's why it hurt so much when I took your best friend Sarah on my nineteenth birthday, because she roughly fit the bill. Maybe it hurt because I told you the only way you'd see me in the bedroom was if you were holding the camera.

A month later, I'd all but forgotten Sarah, and had become obsessed with Alice, who had an exhibitionist streak. For your birthday, I made good on my promise- and you became the videographer to PornHub's highest rated September 2021 Big Tits and Humiliation category- the first because of Alice, the second because at the 18:30 mark, she took the camera off you, and trained the camera on your wet cunt as I pounded into her, pushing you into a starring role at 27:19 when I finally came, and she demanded you clean her.

It had tasted so good. That was the worst part. That it was worth it. All of the humiliation, the tears running down your face as you submitted to being able to have what you'd craved for so many years.

The best part, though? That was how... natural it felt. Both the submission, and the routine that we fell into following that night. That we could be chatting, talking shit about Star Wars, or the latest season of Succession while we wait for Uber Eats to arrive. And then, you'd casually mention that a Tinder date was coming over, and I'd just ask her cup size. She'd arrive and you'd go from roommate to obedient servant, doing as we directed. Being able to curate who I slept with- that was how you connected, how you felt closer to it, how it felt "real". Each nameless girl a surrogate for your own pleasure, living vicariously through the thrill of simply witnessing it.

We were inseparable, but incompatible- partners in all but consummation, our aromantic relationship was anything but loveless- indeed, there was plenty of "couple"y stuff that made your heart flutter, and wonder maybe, just maybe I was having doubts. That I might one day tell you that you could deactivate my Tinder account, and sleep in my bedroom as equals, peers, lovers. Your body ached for the real thing, but it was a terrifying idea- what if I bored of you, if I had you? Was the toying part of what kept us together?

No, it wasn't worth it. You were happy. And you made sure that I was happy