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We are friends, plus I have a boyfriend. But most of all, I'm a girl. But nights like these, when I'm spending the night and we are alone in the house, and all I can think about is how Sam isn't wearing any underwear or bra under those short shorts and thin tank top, I can't stop wanting to make her mine. I hear the water running in her bathroom as I feel heat rise in between my legs. I rub my clit and let out a soft moan as I take in her scent from her bed. I look down at my 36D tits and. ...fast food, A/C, a bed, cellphones, alcohol...and then of course sex, girlfriends and wives...at which point I retreated to my tent in the hopes of not becoming anyone's "muse", especially the three over zealous horndogs of the bunch; McKinley, Ford, and Gilvarry. Big mistake on my part.I had been trying my best to not spend too much time shooting the shit with the guys since the stupid mail prank last month. I guess they got bored (and stupid) and thought it would be some fun at my expense. Lying on her back, Bridget lay laughing on the floor as Asher’s head appeared above her from atop the bed. From his vantage point, he couldn’t help but glance quickly at her chest, which was heaving slightly each time she laughed. As a friend, he knew he shouldn’t, but as a guy, he couldn’t help himself. She might be small, but she wasn’t small in all aspects. Her pert 36 C’s earned her attention (wanted or not), and Asher had received more than a few jealous glances in his direction. He knew. ’ Layla stammered a quick ‘hello’ and ‘nice to meet you.’ She automatically felt her temperature rise and began to feel her panties become wet with desire. Layla was stunned. She didn’t know Mr. Price co-owned the company. She was even more stunned at his beauty. Mr. Carrick was olive complected with piercing green eyes and had a smile that could melt an iceberg. All that afternoon, Layla caught herself day dreaming about Mr. Carrick’s uncharacteristic beauty and how she immediately knew what.
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