Chapter 1

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Heterosexual, True Story, First, Exhibitionism, .

Desc: Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A beautiful tease mends a broken heart. A man in mourning is rescued from despair by his lifelong friend, the erstwhile tomboy who's grown up to become a gorgeous, playful woman. No longer merely "one of the guys," she sets out to save the man she's always loved.

This is the third and final series from a group of nonfiction stories that began with "Angelina" and continued with "Sisters."

Sometimes there is no way to explain or even justify life. It simply assaults you, absolutely at random. Things happen that are so utterly cruel, you realize the gods must have it in for you. Then, just when everything seems completely hopeless, and crushing despair is all you can feel, life often changes its fickle mind and blesses you with something equally wonderful.

My beautiful wife of six years lay dying in a hospital bed. Christ, she was only twenty-seven; way too young to be on a fucking life-support machine. Still, there she was, slipping away, and all I could do was hold her hand as I cried at her side.

The EKG monitor finally went flat. My angel had lost her battle to survive, and we never even got to say goodbye.

Some drunken asshole had passed out at the wheel and crossed the center line, effectively ending two lives when he crashed into Angelina. She was just driving home from the grocery store, and suddenly she was gone. I may as well have died too.

The asshole drunk driver? He hardly suffered a scratch, and didn't remember a thing.

I was lost. I didn't want to live any longer.

One dreary Wednesday evening I was sitting at the dining room table writing my suicide note when my older brother burst into the kitchen.

Scott was like Kramer from Seinfeld in that he never knocked before he would just come barging in. He lived in L.A. with his wife Monica, but he was in San Francisco that week on business so I had him staying at my place.

He sat down at the table with me, and before I could even do anything he snatched my paper away. "What's this?" he asked casually.

Once he read the first few sentences, he slammed the paper on the table. Pissed off, he shoved me in the chest, knocking me to the kitchen floor. "This is bullshit!" he roared. "You are not going to do this to Mom! You cannot fuck us over like this!"

He expected me to fight back, or at least attempt to explain myself, but I had no fight in me, and nothing to say.

When he finally calmed down, he made me tell him everything. We talked deep into the night, then he called Monica to let her know what was going on. Long story short, we agreed that the only chance I had was to move somewhere far away and try to start a whole new life.

"Here's what's going to happen," he said. "I'm taking you out of here. You're coming to live with Monica and me, and we're leaving tonight. We'll worry about the rest later."

The months dragged by. Life went on. I didn't care, so Scott managed to sell my house. I was staying in one of his extra bedrooms in their modest, well-kept home in L.A. He and Monica tried to keep me involved in things, and I did my best to be courteous and friendly, but mostly I was just existing. I would get up and go to work, then come home and watch TV with them until it was time to go to bed. On my off days I'd help around the house and otherwise just try to keep busy somehow.

I wasn't still thinking about suicide; at least not constantly, anyway, the way I had been before. I sure as hell wasn't thinking much about living, either. Like I said, I was just existing.

I appreciated all their help, so I gave Scott $20,000 from the sale of my house. He didn't want to take it, but I insisted, and I put the rest in the bank. I felt the time had come to stop being a burden to them, and I had at least regained enough emotional stability to convince them that I wasn't going to kill myself. I'd be okay eventually, was the working plan.

We decided I would get my own place. That was the whole point of moving away, wasn't it, to start all over? At some point I was going to have to try, and they grudgingly agreed it was time.

I didn't want another house. I didn't want anything other than an apartment, or maybe even just a room for rent. I wanted as few responsibilities as possible.

A few days later I was browsing the local classifieds over breakfast at a coffee shop. I circled a fairly promising 'Room for Rent' ad: 'Single woman looking to share a small but nice two-bedroom apartment. Good location, clean apartment. Male or female, either is fine. Pets are negotiable. No smokers and no flakes.'

I called the number and was shocked to hear my friend Stacey answer the phone!


"Dan? Is that you? Hey, whatcha doing? We haven't talked in, what's it been, a couple of years now?"

"I was ... well, I was calling in response to your room for rent ad!" I said, laughing.

That was the first time I'd laughed in I don't know how long.

"My room for rent ad? What happened to your house up north? Where's Angie?"

"Stacey, can I come and see you? We need to talk."

"Definitely. Come on over," she said, and she gave me her address.

"I can be there in about an hour. Is that okay?"

"That's fine. It's so great to hear your voice again! See you in a bit!"

Two hours later I was sitting on her couch, and I'd told her everything. We cried together for a long time.

"Oh, Dan, I'm so sorry. I can't believe it. I just can't believe Angie is gone. I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you."

"It's not your fault, Stacey. Things happen, and sometimes people just fall out of touch."

Stacey and I were best friends growing up. We were next-door neighbors, so we went to elementary school, junior high and high school together. She was a tomboy, always just 'one of the guys.' Though we were never boyfriend and girlfriend, at nine years old we were each other's first kissing partners. Hiding beneath the stairs in our apartment complex, we played "I'll show you mine if you show me yours!"

We always sat together in class, and she would cheat off my work. We did homework together too, and when we were in high school we went to football games and movies as part of a larger group of friends. We were inseparable. We remained friends throughout high school before heading off to the same college.

By that time she was no longer a tomboy, and I definitely noticed the change. She had become a very beautiful young woman.

The thing is, during all that time we never managed to date. She had her boyfriends, I had my girlfriends, and it became difficult to keep seeing each other.

Although we promised to stay in touch when she moved on to grad school some 3,000 miles away, our contacts became much less frequent. Because we did at least manage to keep up with each other via the occasional letter, she came to our wedding when I married Angie, my on-again/off-again girlfriend from the time we were eleven years old. The three of us were friends in high school, but Angie and I ended up taking it all the way.

Stacey always seemed to be okay with it, though there was often an underlying current of tension between us whenever the subject of Angie came up. "Dan, I'm fine with you two being together. I like her a lot, and she's good for you," she told me one day during our summer break before the start of college. "Besides, it's not as if we're boyfriend and girlfriend, right? I get it ... we're only friends. Look, I admit I sometimes feel a little jealous about you being with her, but I know I have no right. Let's not make a big deal over it, okay? Just let me handle it on my own, and I'll manage."

"Really?" I asked. "You? Jealous? I never knew."

"I never wanted you to know, alright? I'm just 'one of the guys, ' remember? So can we drop it now?"

The last time I had spoken to Stacey she'd just earned her master's degree and was looking for a job. She was thinking of moving back to L.A., where we all grew up together. That was more than two years ago.

"So how long have you been back in L.A.?" I asked.

"About a year now," Stacey said.

"Why didn't you call or write to let us know where you were?"

"I don't know, I guess I just thought it would be best if I left you and Angie alone."

"Were you ever going to call or write?"

"What about you?" she responded defensively. "It's not like you kept writing me either."

"Stacey, you know I would have always made sure you had my new address and phone number if anything ever changed."

"Well, I'm sorry. Now I'm really sorry," she added, hugging me.

"Anyway," I continued, "what's your story? Why are you renting out your second bedroom?"

"Oh, well, my last roommate was a total flake. She skipped out on me with no notice. She didn't even pay her final month's rent. That's why I put 'no flakes' in my ad," she laughed. "I'm still paying off my school loans, and while I'm working and doing okay, I still need to be pretty frugal about things. Besides, you know me, I was never into money, flashy cars and all that fancy stuff. This place is fine for me. I'm always working, so I'm hardly ever here. I just need a reliable roommate."

Of course we made the decision that I'd come live there. She was thrilled, and I was at least relieved. We talked about how it would work living together, especially with her place having only one bathroom. We agreed there would probably be times when we'd need to share the bathroom in emergencies, and that knocking first would be a good idea. When necessary we'd throw on a towel, and if worse came to worst we would try to avert our eyes.

The idea was to keep things really casual and low-stress.

The same held true regarding the way we would dress around the apartment. Neither of us typically wore much at home anyway, so we wouldn't insist that the other wear a fur parka just for modesty's sake.

"What about dating and bringing people here?" she asked.

"There won't be anything for you to worry about there with me. I won't be bringing home any girls. Believe me, that's the last thing you have to worry about," I said, sullenly.

"Oh, Dan," she frowned, taking my hand.

"What about you?" I asked, changing the subject. "Dating anybody?"

"Nothing serious. I date here and there, but mostly I just don't have the time. If I ever do bring someone here, I promise I'll try to be discreet."

"It's your place, Stacey. You do whatever you want."

"Uh-huh," she said, eyeing me closely.

Finally we'd talked everything through, and I moved in the following week.

To be honest, not much had changed with me. I'd moved in with Stacey, but I was still working the same job. A couple of months had gone by, and I remained sad and withdrawn. When I wasn't at work, I was mostly staying to myself in my room.

Well, okay, one thing had changed. My brother Scott had decided that I needed to start looking at women again, so despite my protests he hooked up a new computer in my bedroom.

"Porn, you idiot. What else would you need a computer for?" he laughed.

He also decided to start taking me to strip clubs almost every Friday night. Just to humor him, I went along with it. We went to the clubs, and I watched the beautiful dancers. I even browsed various porn sites, both the soft and hardcore varieties.

I really did try. I had some lap dances. I attempted to jack off in my bedroom. I did all the usual things that used to get me excited.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing worked. I couldn't become erect; certainly not enough to cum. I never told Scott that, though. He was trying so hard to help me snap out of my doldrums that I just didn't have the heart to burst his bubble.

The first crack in my ice occurred one morning during breakfast, and it was over the silliest, most mundane of events. While enjoying a rare day off from work, I was sitting at the table eating a bowl of cereal when Stacey walked into the kitchen.

She was wearing her usual 'relaxing around the house' clothes: little jogging shorts and a t-shirt. Nothing out of the ordinary; it was pretty much the same as most of our mornings together.

For some reason, though, I happened to notice her legs that morning. It wasn't like I was leering at them or anything either. No, I just happened to notice them when she reached up to grab a glass from the cupboard.

'She has really pretty legs, ' I found myself thinking. I also noticed that she had an incredibly great body. Despite her loose t-shirt it was obvious that she had nicely flared hips, a flat stomach and large, firm breasts. She clearly had a great ass, too. I mean an amazingly great ass.

'There is just nothing wrong with her body, ' I thought. Then I noticed my cock starting to stir a little. 'Hey! That's a first!'

I hadn't gotten hard since Angie had passed. We'd shared a fantastic sex life, and once she was gone I basically ceased to be a sexual being.

Stacey caught me looking at her legs. Giving me a sweet smile, she poured herself a glass of juice before pulling up a chair beside me.

Like an idiot, I just kept staring.

"What? Dan, you're blushing," she grinned.

"Nothing," I said, quickly looking down at my cereal.

She gave me another sweet little smile. "Okay," she said, still smiling as she got up to put her glass in the sink before walking out of the kitchen.

I noticed her legs again, and her ass, too.

'Why haven't I ever noticed her ass before?' I found myself thinking. It suddenly dawned on me that Stacey truly had a fantastic ass; really, a world-class ass. That was also the first time I noticed her blonde ponytail, which was bouncing prettily as she walked away.

'Hmmmm, ' I smiled to myself.

That evening I was watching a movie when Stacey came home with Chris, a co-worker she occasionally dated. She had brought him home twice before, and we all got along just fine. They'd hang out in the living room, I'd go to my room, and he would leave a couple of hours later.

That night Stacey asked me to stay and hang out with them. She said it was my apartment too, and that I didn't have to run off and hide in my room whenever Chris came over. Chris said the same thing, inviting me to stay and watch the movie with them.

I was in our little love seat facing the TV, and they were together on the couch. Eventually I turned off the lights so we could watch the movie better. After a while, I heard shifting sounds coming from the couch. Glancing their way, I noticed that Chris had moved. Having pulled Stacey close to his side, he had his arm around her shoulders. He was watching the movie, but Stacey was watching me. I quickly looked away.

About a half-hour later I heard more rustling sounds. Chris had dropped a hand over her shoulder, onto her breast. He was trying to undo the top buttons on her blouse, and Stacey was quietly trying to stop him. When she saw me watching, her eyes went into a brief panic.

Wanting to give her some space, I got up and went to the kitchen. Taking my time, I grabbed a glass of water before returning to the living room. "Thanks, guys, but I'm heading off to bed now," I said.

They were still on the couch, and Stacey had managed to close her blouse buttons. She looked up at me with deep sadness in her eyes. "Okay, sleep well," she said softly.

Chris said, "Have a good one."

I went to my room, where I took off my clothes and put on a pair of shorts.

Noticing another slight stirring in my cock, I thought, 'There it is again.' I was maybe halfway hard. 'Okay, let's fire up the ol' computer and see if I can't find something I like...'

I logged on and browsed around for a while.

Nothing. My half hard-on had gone away.

I heard Chris leave, and I was about to log off when I happened to stumble upon some pictures of a pretty blonde with a ponytail sticking out of her baseball cap.

'Mmmm, ' I thought. Okay, that girl did a little something for me.

I heard a quiet knock on my bedroom door. "Dan, are you still awake?" came Stacey's voice.

"Yes, come on in."

When Stacey walked into my room, I noticed right away that she'd changed her clothes. She was again wearing her little shorts and t-shirt, and her long blonde hair that she had been wearing up was in a ponytail.

"Chris went home," she said.

"I know. I heard him leave."

"I sent him home. I thought he was making you uncomfortable."

"Stacey, no, you don't have to do that. This is your apartment, and you have a life. Believe me, live your life."

"It's just that I know you saw ... well, you know..."

"Stacey, it's okay. What, because I live with you now, you're not supposed to have any fun? I don't want that for you."

"Are you sure? I can always take him to my room, or maybe we should just go to his place instead. I hate that you feel like you have to hide in your room whenever I have company. This is your place too now. I want you to feel totally welcome here."

"Stacey, look, if it'll make you feel better, I'll try to not 'hide in my room' every time he comes over. Okay?"

"I'd like that."

"The thing is, it works both ways."

"What do you mean?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Stacey, I saw you. I saw that look of panic in your eyes when Chris had his hand on you and you knew I was watching. You were far more weirded out over it than I was. I took off to give you some space simply because you looked so uncomfortable with my seeing him touching you."

"I'm so sorry about that, Dan. I really am. I've never been in that situation before, you know, with another guy, and you ... watching me. I guess I can't help but think back to how jealous I used to feel whenever I saw you and Angie making out. I'm sorry I did that tonight. I should just not bring him here anymore."

"Stacey, please don't do that to me."

"Don't do what to you?" she asked, fear showing in her beautiful eyes.

"Don't be so afraid for me. You're a grown woman. I know you're going to date, and I know what happens when people date, okay?" I gave her a small smile.

"I don't know, Dan. Are you sure? You really don't mind seeing me like that?"

"Well, I don't know that I'd go that far," I added, still smiling. "I'm just saying you deserve to have fun, and I don't want to be the reason you don't have any. Look, let me deal with it, okay? Let me work it out within myself as to what I'm willing to watch. You just enjoy yourself. That's what I really want for you. I want you to be happy, Stacey."

Laughing, she said, "If you think I'm going to break down and have wild orgies in front of you just because you say it's okay, then you've got another thing coming, mister!"

We both laughed together, for maybe the first time since I'd moved in with her.

"What about you, though? What are you doing about ... you know..." she asked, grinning as she coyly raised her eyebrows.

That's when she noticed the girl on my computer screen - the girl with the long blonde ponytail. I realized too late that I'd left the image up on my screen.

I went to click it off.


"Stacey, seriously, it's not what you think."

Again, she gave me a sweet smile. I think she knew she was driving me crazy with those little smiles.

"I'm serious," I said, embarrassed. "It's really not what you think."

"Oh, and what do I think?" she grinned, obviously enjoying my chagrin.

"I'm sure you must think I'm sitting in here all night jacking off or whatever to porn," I said, looking down.

"Are you telling me you're not? Then who's she?"

"She's someone I just found, literally only a minute ago."

Stacey went over to sit at my computer. Still wearing her beguiling little grin, she studied the picture of the blonde girl. "Dan, you can't even see her face, much less her ass or any of her body. She's not even naked. I don't get it."

"That's because there's nothing to get. That's what I'm trying to tell you. Nothing was going on. I happened to see that picture, and I was just trying to figure out why I like it so much when you came in. That's the whole truth, I swear."

"Okay," she teased, still smiling. "Look to your heart's content at pictures of pretty blondes with ponytails. Whatever floats your boat, sweetie!"

Just then I realized it, and I think she did too. "Pretty blondes with ponytails," she'd said.

Stacey was a very pretty blonde with a long ponytail.

"Anyway, I just wanted to come check on you." Giggling, she flipped her ponytail across my face. "See you tomorrow morning," she grinned, kissing me on the cheek before heading back to her bedroom.

My cock stirred again.

The next morning I was reading the paper at the table when she walked into the kitchen.

There was no mistaking it; two days in a row, I'd noticed her amazing body and absolutely gorgeous face. While I was noticing things, I also noted a change in her usual morning attire. Along with her shorts being much smaller, her t-shirt was shorter and thinner. Her skintight tank top and painted-on shorts exposed quite a bit of her lower back, as well as the first few inches of her bare ass cheeks.

When she turned to face me, I knew something was definitely different. I could see her belly button, and she was very obviously braless. Her white cotton 'Aerosmith' t-shirt was an old threadbare relic with narrow shoulder straps and large, stretched-out arm holes, and her erect nipples were clearly evident.

"Sleep well?" she asked brightly; her usual morning greeting.

'She really is a doll, ' I thought. "Yes, thank you," I said. "How is it that you're always so cheery every morning? What's your secret?"

"Why shouldn't I be? I enjoy my life. I like my job, I'm in good health, and I have my best friend living with me. What's there to be grumpy about?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

She could see that I didn't quite share her enthusiasm.

"Dan, oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean—"

"I know," I said, waving off her apology. "I just think it's great how you're always so happy. You're really awesome, Stace. You always were, you know. You've always been the funnest chick I've ever known."

"Funnest chick?" she laughed. "That's me: a 'fun chick.' I should put that on my résumé!"

"Well, you are!"

"Thank you, Dan," she giggled. "I know what you mean, and that's very sweet of you to say."

She turned to leave, saying she needed to go get dressed for work.

I headed to the bathroom to get ready for work too, and I had just hopped into the shower when she knocked on the door. "Dan, can I come in and go pee? I really gotta go!"

"Okay!" I said loudly over the noise of the shower.

She came in, still wearing her little shorts and thin t-shirt. The shower had an opaque curtain, not a glass door. Since we couldn't see each other through the curtain, we often used the bathroom together whenever one of us was showering.

When I finished my shower, I poked my head out to grab my towel. Though I didn't mean to, I saw her sitting on the toilet with her shorts around her knees as she peed.

Glancing up, she giggled, "Hey! Don't look, you big cheater!" Still giggling, she quickly covered her lap with a magazine.

"Sorry!" I said, ducking my head back behind the curtain, where I wrapped my towel around my waist. When I heard the toilet flush, I gave her some time.

"Ooh la la!" she said, as I stepped out of the shower. "Nice bod!" Grinning, she did a sexy little hip gyration while running her hands up and down her body like a stripper.

"Brat!" I said, laughing as I stood at the sink. "I need to go too," I added, gesturing to the toilet.

"Don't mind me. Let me just get out of your way." With her back to me, she slid in front of me. I slid to the left, giving her room to move by.

"Oops!" she giggled, when her ass rubbed against the front of my towel. "Good thing you have that thing on, huh?"

I just looked at her and smiled. I also noticed that I'd become halfway erect again. Damn!

"Go ahead," she said. "I'm just gonna brush my teeth."

I turned my back to her and opened my towel. I tried to go, but I had to be careful because I was semi-hard. I didn't want to miss and make a mess, especially with her standing right there.

As the sound of my heavy stream filled the silent space, she giggled, "Wow, you must have really had to go!"

Embarrassed, I finished up and turned back around.

"All better now?" she asked sweetly. Having finished brushing her teeth, she took off to go get dressed.

I was brushing my teeth when she came back into the bathroom wearing a skirt and blouse. Barefoot, she stood beside me at the sink. "Here ... skootch over a bit," she said, playfully hip-checking me to make me shift to my left.

Sharing the sink, I leaned over to spit out my toothpaste while she applied her mascara. When I stood again, she bent forward a bit to get closer to the mirror.

Her movement made me bump into her.

"You must really like this outfit!" she said, giving me a sunny grin.

"Huh?" I started to ask, and she bumped me right back. Looking over her shoulder, she glanced down to where my semi-erect cock was making an obvious tent of my towel as it pushed straight into her ass cheek!

I was mortified, but she just kept doing her make-up.

"Umm, I gotta get dressed," I said, trying to squeeze by so I could leave. When I was directly behind her, with my cock dragging across her ass, she pushed back against me again!

"See? I'm not the only one who's up this morning!" she said, smiling happily in the mirror.

That night I didn't see her. Scott had taken me out again to the strip club, and by the time I got home Stacey must have already gone to bed.

I logged on to surf some porn, and again ... nothing. Not even the beginnings of a hard-on. I tried to locate the picture of the blonde girl with the ponytail, hoping there would be more pictures of her somewhere, but I couldn't find her.

Depressed, I went to bed.

When I woke up the next morning, Stacey had already showered. While I was getting ready to take my shower, I heard her puttering around in the kitchen.

I was standing at the sink when Stacey came into the bathroom wearing her work clothes. She was again sporting a skirt and blouse, though this time she also had on some sexy high heels. Just like the morning before, she wedged herself in front of me to do her eye make-up, and I immediately grew halfway hard.

'I'm really on to something here, ' I thought. 'If nothing else, Stacey seems to be able to get me hard, at least a little.'

Noticing my stares, Stacey made a joke about my "sexy bare chest" as she pushed her ass against my towel-covered crotch.

"Mmmm, I guess this outfit meets with your approval too," she said, grinning cutely.

I knew what she meant, but I didn't say anything. I just smiled back at her.

And so it went, with most every morning starting off by Stacey rubbing against me in the bathroom to see if I "approved of her outfit."

One morning I was shaving in the mirror when she came in and pushed by me from behind, rubbing her front against my bare back. I was only wearing sweatshorts, and she had on those tiny short-shorts and thin tank top.

She sat right down on the toilet and peed.

When I looked over at her, she had her hands in her lap; still, I could see her smooth legs all the way up to the side of her bare ass.

"I guess you approve of this outfit, too," she grinned, ogling the tent that had popped up in my shorts. "Make sure to look away now," she added, smiling brightly.

After finishing her business, she moved over to wedge herself in front of me again. As I continued shaving, she leaned forward on her elbows to brush her teeth; right away, she pushed her ass against my hardening crotch. Grinning at me in the mirror, she wiggled her bottom in sexy circles on my cock. "Mmmm-hmmm, someone definitely seems to like what I have on this morning!" she giggled.

Yes, I was really coming to enjoy our mornings in the bathroom together.

The best thing was that she was always just ... Stacey. She truly was that nice and sweet, and all she ever wanted was for us to have fun together. There was never any sexual tension, and her aim with her little morning game wasn't to be a prick-tease. She wasn't malicious about it, nor did she do it to feed her ego. That girl didn't have an ounce of attention-whore in her.

Nope, she simply enjoyed playing our little game we'd stumbled upon together. She liked the fact that she could make me hard, and she was especially happy when we smiled and laughed during those moments, since moments of laughter were so rare for me.

Nothing had changed between us. We were still the same together as we'd always been.

She let me know that Chris was coming over again that night, and I said that was fine with me. Giving me this adorable pouty look she knew I could never resist, she got me to agree to stay in the living room with them instead of bolting to my room.

That night I was again just wearing some shorts while having dinner and watching Sportscenter in the living room when they come home.

Chris seemed a little drunk, but Stacey seemed fine.

"Don't worry, I drove," she said. "Doofus here might have had one too many, so I took us home."

"She's exaggerating," Chris said. "I'm fine. I could've driven."

"Probably," I said, looking worriedly to Stacey, "but better safe than sorry."

She knew exactly how much I meant it.

"Definitely," she said, nodding. "So what are we watching?"

"Sportscenter, " Chris replied, as he and I watched highlights of a Raiders-Chargers game.

"Are you okay with that?" I asked Stacey.

"It's fine with me. Watch whatever you want. I'm going to go change." She headed off to her bedroom, returning a few moments later in her little short-shorts and a t-shirt; a conservative one, though, not the more revealing tank top she'd started wearing around the house with me.

When Chris wrapped his arm around her on the couch, she curled her legs beneath her and snuggled in. I was in the love seat opposite them, and her sexy bottom was aimed right at me. Her bent position made her shorts ride way up high, provocatively exposing her bare curves.

She looked over and gave me a subtle yet unmistakable grin.

I felt my cock stir again. She just kept smiling at me, so I got up to turn off the lights and grab myself a drink. When I walked by them to go to the kitchen, Chris continued watching TV while Stacey looked right at my crotch! Quickly raising her eyebrows twice, she gave me a comically leering grin!

I was really starting to tent my shorts, so I hurried off to the kitchen. Taking my time to fix a drink, I knew I still needed to wait a bit before I could return to the living room.

Instead, Stacey came into the kitchen.

"Hey, you," she grinned, reaching for my glass while glancing down at my tented shorts. "I'm suddenly thirsty too. Is that for me?"

She left it open as to what she was referring to, the glass of water or my lengthening cock.

"So, do you approve of this outfit?" she asked, smiling over the rim of her glass. "These aren't as skimpy as my other pajamas. It's okay if I wear this around you and Chris, isn't it?"

"You're right," I said, finally warming to the idea of playing her little game, "those definitely are not as skimpy as your other pajamas, if that's what you want to call them."

"What, you don't like my pajamas? You usually seem to approve of them," she grinned, staring down at my growing bulge. "In fact," she added, beaming brightly, "it would appear that you really approve of these ones too."

"Oh, I approve of them just fine. These pajamas, your other pajamas, anything you wear; I love them all. I'm only saying that I wouldn't really call them 'pajamas' since they're just shorts and a t-shirt. You could easily wear them outside, even during the daytime."

"So does this mean that I need to start wearing actual pajamas or I won't be official?" Still grinning, she was holding her glass up to her mouth with both hands like a little girl.

"Sweetie, you can wear whatever you want and call it anything you like. It's all fine by me."

"Oh, is that right? I can wear whatever I want, and you wouldn't mind?"

"Mind? No, I definitely wouldn't mind. What kind of things are we talking here, anyway?"

She smiled flirtatiously. "I guess you'll just have to wait and see, won't you?"

"I guess I will then," I said, taking the bait.

With a gorgeous sparkle in her eyes she handed me my glass, indicating that she needed to head back to the living room.

I was beginning to get a legitimate hard-on so I told her I'd be a minute, that I had to go check on something, then I'd be right back.

She grinned, "Don't take too long, or I'll come looking for you."

I went to my room and immediately pulled out my cock. I was nearly erect. As I started tugging on it, I logged on to the site where I found the picture of the blonde girl with the ponytail. Flashing before me on my screen were countless sexy girls showing their naked pussies and beautiful breasts, gorgeous women one after another, but none of them were my blonde girl with the ponytail. Though I kept jacking myself, I was beginning to lose it.

'Where is she?' I exclaimed, silently pleading with the computer to give her back to me.

'Damn it!!' I screamed in my head. I'd lost it. I was soft again. 'Oh well, ' I thought, attempting to apply some gallows humor, 'at least I'm safe now.'

Trudging back out to the living room, I dejectedly dumped myself into the love seat.

When Stacey saw me, she instantly knew something bad had happened. She raised her eyebrows, as if to ask, "What's wrong?" I just sadly shook my head, and the hurt in her eyes was almost too much to bear.

Before too long, Chris was snuggling her into his chest while stroking her hip and the top of her ass. As his hand made its way down her bare thigh before circling back up to the hem of her shorts, she nervously shook her head at me. When I nodded tersely, she made an "I can't!" face.

I watched his hand caress the soft curves of her ass, and again I felt my cock beginning to harden. When I reached down to reposition it, Stacey's eyes bugged out! Grinning goofily, she brought her hand to her mouth in feigned shock and obvious mirth.

I knew then, beyond a shadow of a doubt: Stacey could get me hard. She was the only thing in this world that could bear me away from my perpetual misery. She didn't even have to do anything; I just had to be near her. Simply being able to watch her was enough.

Stacey ... only Stacey. There was just something magical about her.

Chris kept stroking her leg, until he slid his hand up to the side of her breast, taking her t-shirt up too.

Watching her, I grew nearly fully hard. I wasn't all the way there, yet I was the thickest and longest I'd been in more than a year. When I lifted my leg to hide it, Stacey shot me another pouty face!

I laughed a little, and she smiled happily.

Once the movie was over, Chris said, "Well, kids, it's getting late, and I have to be up early. I better mosey on out of here."

He'd been drinking bottles of Dr Pepper the entire evening. He seemed completely sober.

"Are you sure you're safe to drive?" Stacey asked him, trying to gauge his condition.

He was fine. While she walked him out to his car, I went to my bedroom.

I was miserable. I knew there was only one woman for me, and of course she just had to be my lifelong best friend and platonic roommate. She was also some other guy's girl.

Flopping down on my bed, my arms over my head, I stared off into nothingness.

Stacey knocked on my door, which I'd left halfway open.

"Dan, can I come in?"

She didn't wait for an answer. She just came in and sat beside me on the bed. "What happened there? One minute you were fine, smiling and laughing with me in the kitchen, then you disappear and come back ten minutes later looking like someone stole your dog! What did you do?"

"Stacey, I..."

I didn't know what to say.

"Then you instantly started to get hard again once you were back in your chair. Oh, and by the way, buster, I seriously didn't appreciate that cheesy trick of hiding it with your leg after you caught me staring at it. I really like looking at your big cock, you know. When you won't let me see it, that's just mean. Why would you ever want to be mean to your sweet little Stacey?"

She gave me a wide grin, then she became serious. "Well? Dan, you're going to have to talk to me. I'm not going anywhere. We've always been best friends, and you know we can talk about anything. If this is about Angie, just tell me. Look, I know I wasn't there when you really needed me, and I'm truly sorry. Believe me, it kills me to think of you having to go through that all alone, but I'm here for you now. I'm right here, sweetie, and I'm never leaving you. Talk to me. What's going on with you?"

Unable to face her, I stared blankly at my computer. Following my gaze, she looked over and saw the naked women on my screen.

"Okay, so it has to do with porn?"

"Stacey, no, it doesn't. Well, yes, it does, at least partly. Look, it's hard to describe ... you know, to put into words."

"Give it a try. Are you addicted to porn or something? Is that it?"

"Far from it," I said, still unable to look at her.

"I'm sorry, Dan, I don't get it. You have to spell it out more clearly. C'mon, spill it. What's the problem?"

"Stacey, I'm serious, you really don't want to know. It's hard to talk about. I'm telling you, it's not a pleasant thing."

"Try me. Whatever you're going through, we need to get this out in the open. Tell me, Dan. I'm your best friend. I swear to you, no matter what it is, you can trust me."

"Stace, I know I can trust you. I know I can do anything with you. That's part of the problem."

I was finally beginning to realize what was happening to me, and I had to come to grips with it.

"You're not making sense, Dan. Just spill it."

I sighed. It was time. I knew the day would come; whether it was with my brother or with her, I knew the day would eventually come. I needed to face the music and talk about it with someone, and it was going to have to be with Stacey ... the very last person in the world to whom I wanted to reveal my problem.

I stared down at the carpet. I just couldn't look at her. "Stacey, something is wrong with me. Ever since Angie died, I haven't been ... anything. I'd decided to kill myself, but Scott stopped me. She was gone; even you were gone. I had nothing to live for anymore."

"I know, honey, I know," she said, tears spilling from her big blue eyes. "You told me everything. I know, and I'm so sorry."

She was crying. My beautiful Stacey was crying, and I hated myself. I fucking hated myself for what I was putting her through.

"I didn't tell you everything, though. I meant it when I said I also died ... that I'd lost everything. I mean I lost ... everything." I looked at her, then at my crotch.

She looked too. "You lost ... huh? I don't follow you. Sweetie, you're fine down there. Sure, you're a constant mope, but all your parts definitely seem to be in working order."

"That's just it ... they're not. I mean ... it's not. It doesn't work. I can't get hard anymore. I can't do anything. I can't even masturbate. Scott keeps trying to help by taking me to strip clubs, and I may as well be at a pottery show for all the excitement I feel when I look at those girls. He brought me that computer so I could find some porn I'd like, or maybe hook up with a girl through one of those adult dating sites, and nothing works. No matter how hot the women are, I don't become the slightest bit hard. Stacey, I haven't been able to cum in more than a year!"

She studied me, appearing totally confused. "How can that be? Anytime I see you lately, your shorts are always tenting out a mile! You get a huge hard-on every morning we spend together in the bathroom. I just saw you becoming nice and hard, only a few minutes ago. There's nothing wrong with you, Dan. You're fine."

I gave her a doubtful look.

"Very fine," she added, with a coy smile.

"Stacey, you don't understand."

"Then make me understand."

"Okay, look, I've been trying to get hard. I really have. I don't want to be like this. If I'm going to keep on living, then I want my cock back. The problem is, it just doesn't work. Nothing seems to have any effect on me. It's like I'm completely dead, which is true, because that's mostly how I feel. I feel totally dead inside, and that includes my cock."

I stared directly into her eyes. "It doesn't work ... except for when I see you. I notice you, Stacey; my cock notices you ... and only you."

"Me? I hardly do anything. We've been living together for months now, and I have never laid a hand on you. I've absolutely let you be, no pressure, so you can work through your grief however you need to. I've made sure not to run around naked in front of you or even wear anything too overly revealing. All we've ever done is the occasional kiss on the cheek, plus our little game in the morning when we check my clothes for the day. And let me tell you, I didn't have to do anything there. You were already hard, pushing right into my ass. That's how our game got started, remember? You kept poking my bottom with your perfectly functional erection!"

Taking a peek into my lap, she smiled at the sight of my growing bulge. "See? We're just sitting here, doing nothing but talking. I didn't do anything to make you get so excited, yet look how big you are. You're becoming hard again. This is how it all started, remember?"

"Yes, I remember. The part you're missing is you just weren't aware that those hard-ons you were feeling - those half hard-ons really, because I still haven't gotten a full one since Angie died - those were the very first stirrings I've felt in forever. Even during these first few months here I never got an erection, not even a partial one. I still can't, except for when you're around!"

Digesting everything, Stacey just stared at me. "Okay, but what happened tonight? You were totally getting hard in the living room. You were 'halfway' hard, as you put it, when you went to the kitchen. I'd bet anything that if I would've had you check my outfit there, you would have poked me in the ass with a thick, hard cock."

"Yes, I would have, so it's a good thing you didn't," I said, with a wan smile.

"That's debatable," she said, giving me a much larger smile. "Anyway, what happened then? Why did you have to disappear on me so suddenly, and why were you so sad when you came back?"

"Stacey, I went to my bedroom to avoid walking back into the living room with an obvious hard-on in front of Chris."

"Okay, fine, I get that. What then, though? What happened in your bedroom that made you so upset?"

"When I went to my bedroom, I was so excited to finally have something pretty close to a hard-on that I wanted to try and make myself cum! I went to go masturbate, okay? I even tried looking at some porn while I was doing it, but it all just died again. As soon as I started, I lost it. That's what always happens, Stace. I can't get an erection, not a full one anyway, and I can't maintain the ones I do get. I definitely can't keep one long enough to cum."

Stacey stared sadly at me.

"So then I went back to the living room. Might as well, right? It wasn't like I had a huge hard-on anymore that I needed to hide. It was gone. I was totally soft again."

"But not for long. Right away I saw you get nice and hard again, as soon as you started watching me," she grinned.

"Yep, you're right. As soon as I saw your legs again, it started to come back. When you curled your legs up, and I could see the beginning of your ass, it came right back. Then he caressed your thigh and lifted your shirt a little, trying to touch the side of your breast, and it came back a lot!"

Stacey sat silently thinking. After a long pause, she said, "Dan, show me something. Show me the kinds of things you look at on your computer when you're trying to make yourself hard. They're the same kinds of things that used to turn you on when Angie was alive and you were fine down there, right?"

"Yeah, it's basically the same stuff; it just doesn't work now. The only one that kinda worked was, well, you know..."

"The pretty blonde with the long ponytail."


"The girl who reminds you of me," she grinned again.

"Yep," I said, and that's when I noticed her erect nipples poking through her t-shirt.

Catching my glance, she gave me an even prettier grin. "So sue me. I get turned on too, you know, especially with your big hard-on trying to rip through those shorts this whole time we've been talking." She looked down at her breasts, then at my lengthening cock. "I guess it's not just me. My nipples must also like what they see."

She smiled shyly, and I think we both blushed. Gesturing to my computer screen, she said, "Okay, so if I have this straight, the only girl there that turns you on is the blonde who reminds you of me. Even live strippers don't do it for you anymore, though the idea of what they do would still be a turn-on for you, if only the girl herself had the ability to excite you. Is that about it?"

"I haven't thought it all through like that, not that specifically, but yeah, that's probably about right."

She shifted her weight on the bed, making her braless breasts jiggle. Her bare legs were also right there in front of me, and I almost didn't know where to look.

She beamed with joy, watching as I stared at her legs and nipples. "The way you're looking at me, I should go braless and wear tiny shorts every day, huh?"

When I gave her a big, dopey grin, she smiled even more brightly. "That settles it, Mr. Horny Stares. From now on, I'm wearing sexier things around you. Okay, one other question. What caused the sudden change? Like you said, we were living together for months before this all started with you. I was still wearing the same boring clothes, and I really didn't do anything new or different. I mean you never used to become hard just from watching me pee or from brushing against me at the sink, right? Completely out of the blue, you began getting erections every morning with me. So what changed? What happened?"

"Nothing, really; at least nothing I can pin down to a specific event. I was wondering about that myself, actually. I just noticed you one morning in the kitchen. I noticed your legs when you were in your more conservative 'boring' shorts, as you call them. It suddenly hit me that you have really beautiful legs, then I noticed how perfect your ass is. The next thing I knew, for the first time in forever I felt a stirring in my cock."

She grinned when I said she had really beautiful legs, and she giggled when I mentioned her perfect ass. She giggled, yet her nipples became even more erect, which we both noticed. Blushing gorgeously, she said, "I can't help it. I'm a girl. When I'm really turned on, my nipples get super hard. Seeing your cock like this, and hearing you talk about my legs and ass, it's driving me crazy.

"Still, why me? Why my legs? I have nice legs and all, sure, but it's not like you can't find great legs to drool over on your porn sites, and definitely on those strippers. Anywhere you go in L.A., you see women with pretty legs."

"I don't know. I was wondering about it myself, though actually in reverse. I was wondering why I hadn't noticed a whole lot sooner how beautiful your legs are, and I also began noticing how beautiful the rest of your body is. Then I realized how gorgeous your face is too. All at once it suddenly hit me that you are just absolutely stunning.

"I guess I wasn't prepared to feel anything until then. For whatever reason, the cloud lifted, and suddenly I could see you. That's how it felt ... like a revelation. I notice it constantly now. I'm still mostly miserable, except when you're with me. You allow me to forget my sorrow; somehow, you just make everything better. For the first time in god-knows-how-long, I can even feel my cock starting to come alive. It's you, Stacey. It's all you."

She was crying again, even more than before.

"I'm so sorry, Stacey. I knew I shouldn't lay this crap on you. It's not your fault."

"Oh shut up, you big dummy!" she said, launching herself into my arms to give me a big hug. "I'm not crying because I'm sad, I'm crying because I'm so happy! Do you know how much I've been worrying about you? God, do you have any idea how many times I've talked to Scott and Monica about you when they've called to see how you're doing, and all I can tell them is the same thing every time: 'No change. He's still miserable.' Your mom is worried sick about you. We're all worried sick about you, and I didn't even know what you were going through. Now I know! I finally know something about what you've been feeling and how you've been hurting. Dan, now I can do something about it!"

Letting it all out, she buried her face in my neck and wept with joy.

As I held her trembling body in my arms, my god, she felt like sheer magic. Still, I had to tell her. "Stacey, you just don't get it. There's only one person in this world who makes me feel alive, and she's already with another guy! This is pure hell."

Pulling back, she gave me a look of utter incredulity. "You have got to be kidding me. You think Chris is some big problem? Sweetie, please, listen to me. I told you, I'm not seriously seeing anyone. Don't worry about Chris. We are definitely not serious. We're barely even fuck-buddies. I'm sure he would like us to become more serious, but it's never going to happen."

"Okay, even so," I said, still holding her, "none of this changes the fact that I'm obviously not ready for a woman. I have no idea what I'm going to do, and it's not fair to you to have me lay all this on you. C'mon, you don't deserve that kind of pressure, and I don't want to put either of us in an uncomfortable situation. I really like being here with you, Stacey. Seriously, I don't want to blow it. We've always been friends, and I don't want to mess that up any more than I probably already have by telling you this crap."

Kissing me on the cheek, she gave me a big smile. "You just let me worry about what's fair to me, okay? I need to think about this, and I have to get to bed now anyway. We'll talk about it some more tomorrow. Sweet dreams, baby."

Once she'd headed off to her bedroom, I said to myself, "Baby?"

She had never called me "baby" before.

A shiver went up my spine.

The next morning I didn't get to see her. She was already out the door before I even woke up.

I hurried home from work that evening, but she still wasn't there. I had just plopped down on the couch to read a book when she breezed through the door with a happy smile, her arms loaded with two large bags from our favorite Italian take-out place. I'll never forget how remarkably pretty she looked as she beamed, "Sorry I'm late, sweetie. I decided you deserved something special for dinner tonight. Didja miss me?"

Dinner was just fantastic. We talked about everything under the sun, while really saying nothing of any importance. We were obviously avoiding the main issue.

After doing the dishes together, we sat down in the living room to watch some TV.

She was still in her work clothes: a tight mid-thigh length skirt and a sleeveless silk blouse. Bare legs and high heels. She didn't need pantyhose, so on those rare occasions when she wore stockings they were always thigh-highs.

She grabbed the remote and lowered the volume; then, taking my hands, she turned to face me. "Dan, I don't want you to go to any more strip clubs. I also don't want you looking at any more porn ... at least not for a while."

I wasn't going to interrupt her. She had obviously been working herself up to whatever it was she was about to say.

"Instead of these anonymous girls who don't seem to do anything for you, I want you to look at me. Specifically, I want you to enjoy yourself when you look at me. I'm talking no shame, no worries. I want you to look at me whenever you're feeling sad ... or horny. If you get horny from watching me, keep watching me. Don't stop. If I do something that turns you on, I want you to tell me, so I can do it more. If you can't get it up, but you want to, come to me. Let me excite you. Let me make you hard, over and over and over."

Squeezing my hands, she stared deep into my eyes. "Baby, I want you to let me tease you until you're whole again."

I was completely floored. When she saw the stunned look on my face, she reached up to caress my cheek. "Don't worry, sweetie, I'm not going to rape you or anything. I know about men and their 'performance anxiety' issues. There will be no pressure. We're just going to do what we've been doing. Bit by bit, I'll let you see more of me, and I want you to let me see you too, which means no more hiding it from me when you get hard." Grinning, she cupped my chin. "I want you to show me your erections - the bigger the better. I'm telling you, this will be so much fun!"

I was shocked, yet also totally turned on. What an amazing thing she was suggesting. I did have one question, though. "What about Chris? Where will he fit into this new game?"

"I already thought about that. I'm thinking I can kill three birds with one stone here. I'll keep seeing him ... on my terms, of course. Since you seem to get turned on by watching him feel me up, there's one bird down. I'll enjoy seeing you grow nice and hard, so there's the second one. He'll enjoy getting to play with me, and maybe I'll even let him go a little further sometimes. The way I see it, everybody ought to be happy. You just let me know if my being with him ever becomes upsetting for you, and I'll stop."

"You've really given this a lot of thought, haven't you?"

"Yes, I have. All last night after I went to bed, then all day today, including this entire evening, yep, I've been thinking about what I could do to make you hard and happy again, and I really do think this will be crazy fun!"

Always so bright and cheery, she was just an angel.

"So that's what we're gonna do!" she chirped. "It'll be huge fun, and before you know it you'll be back to your old studly self. You just wait and see!"

Hardly believing my ears, I asked, "Okay, how will this really work? When do we do this?"

"All the time! Whenever you want! Sweetie, that's the whole point. I want you to be constantly hard. I'm guessing we'll mainly do it in the mornings and at night, obviously, since that's when we see each other the most, but really there are no set times or rules. Anytime you need me, just ask. We'll start off slowly, then play it by ear. Let's start now. Go get changed into your shorts, or whatever you wear to bed, and I'll meet you in your bedroom."

Doing as she said, I went and put on a pair of boxers.

A few moments later she literally came bouncing into my room, grinning like a fiend. She had changed into some tight jeans and her usual t-shirt. It looked like she had also put on a bra.

"Okay, where do you want me?" she giggled.

"Stacey, this was your idea! You think of something!" I said, laughing.

"Okay, since you said it was my legs you first noticed, and I have no doubt it's your brain and not your cock that's broken, all I want you to do is focus on what you see. Really think about what I'm doing, how I look doing it, and what you want to see me do next. Look at me, and allow yourself to be in the moment. Just be with me when we do this, and don't think about anything else. Can you do that for me?"

"I'll try," I smirked.

"What's so funny?" she smiled.

"Stacey, do you really think this is somehow going to be difficult for me? You want me to look at you and give you my undivided attention as you try to turn me on? Yeah, I think I can manage that! Go ahead, twist my arm! It's not like I wasn't already doing exactly that anyway, you know," I laughed.

"We'll just see about that," she grinned from beneath her long, shiny hair. She looked so incredibly sexy when she glanced down at her jeans, then back up at me. Unsnapping the top button and pulling up her t-shirt, she exposed her perfect stomach. She dipped her fingertip into her belly button, and I could see the sensual curve of her hips flaring below her narrow waist.

She had a wonderfully flat stomach with a golden tan, and I could see her toned lower abdominal muscles.

She popped open the second button and slid her hands inside her jeans, pulling them down. The top of her pink panties peeked into view, but it was the little shimmy she did with her hips that really got to me.

I was becoming hard.

"You can touch yourself. Go ahead. I want you to," she said, eyeing my rising tent.

Leaning back against the headboard, I brought my knees up.

"No, let me see," she grinned. "Put your knees down. Let me see." She turned her back to me, bending at the waist to place her hands on my TV. Using only her lower body, she did a flirty little ass-dance while smiling over her shoulder. "Is this what you like?"

Again, she looked ... remarkable. Her unbuttoned jeans were resting low on her hips, and the way they were spread open at the top made the taper of her hips and lower back look so delicious as she wriggled her ass.

She reached back to pull her t-shirt up a few inches, showing more of her sexy back. With a single hand she lowered one side of her pants then the other, back and forth, back and forth, rocking her hips with each movement, until finally she had her pants tugged down well below her ass. Though her pink panties weren't see-through, they looked absolutely mouthwatering on her.

"How's this?" she smiled, running her hands up the backs of her thighs and over her panties-covered bottom.

Growing ever harder as I watched her, I was stroking myself through my shorts.

"Back, or front?" she asked. Looking over her shoulder, she saw me stroking away. I was embarrassed, but didn't stop. "Nice," she grinned. "You look like you're doing just fine, baby. Back or front now?"

"Just keep doing what you're doing."

Turning her head back towards the TV, she stepped on the bottom of one pant leg, pulling it all the way down. She shook her hips, and the other leg slid down her thigh before puddling at her feet; stepping out of her jeans, she kicked them off to the side.

Her legs were bare, and her tiny panties left most of her ass exposed. With her arms still in front of her, she again bent at the waist. While doing little circles with her ass, she ran her hands down her thighs before smoothing them up the backs of her legs and onto her rounded bottom.

Looking over her shoulder once again, she spread her legs and gave each cheek a suggestive squeeze. "How are we doing?" she smiled, stretching up onto the balls of her feet, which had the effect of flexing her calves and pulling her thighs taut. She slid a hand inside the back of her panties, cupping her cheek, then she drew her fingertips up and down her crack. When her hand went lower, her wrist pulled her panties down too, and I could see her deep divide.

Running my palm along my length, I was just about fully erect.

"Are you hard for me yet, baby?" She bounced on her toes, jiggling her ass for me.

Pulling her hand from her little panties, she began to tug them down inch by inch, one side at a time, until they were only covering the very bottom of her bare ass. The rest of her perfectly smooth curves were exposed, and she brought her hands forward to brace herself against the TV. Bending her knees together, she lowered her head and performed a slow grind for me, slithering down and twisting back up like a cobra in a basket.

Damn, she was torturing me with that spellbinding ass.

Taking a peek back, she saw that I was just about totally hard, at least as much as she could tell through my boxers. She smiled and bit her lip. "So good, baby. You're hard for me now, aren't you?"

When I squeezed it and moved it away from my body to show it to her, she grinned while pulling her panties up. "That's a great start, sweetie. Slow ... we'll take it slow. No pressure. Just let yourself get hard, anytime you want. Like I told you, I want you constantly hard, okay?"

She came over and put her hand beneath my chin. "Think of me as you go to sleep tonight," she whispered.

Wearing only her panties and t-shirt, she was simply breathtaking. Holding my gaze, she kissed me on the forehead while squeezing my thigh very close to where my burgeoning erection was tenting my shorts.

As she turned to leave, she paused to grab her jeans from the floor. Bending at the waist, she playfully wiggled her gorgeous ass before giving me a warm, sexy smile on her way out.

"Sweet dreams, baby."

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Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / Consensual / Heterosexual / True Story / First / Exhibitionism /