Summary of this Story:
Riley stood in her Elm Street doorway, towel slipping as Jake arrived heartbroken. Sara had dumped him by text, one she forced Riley to write, accidentally sent to everyone. Wires crossed led to misunderstandings, hugs, and her towel dropping to reveal perkier breasts than Sara’s, less hang in the warm light. Riley offered herself as distraction. Jake followed her tight white ass to the bedroom. They fucked hard on rumpled sheets smelling of vanilla body spray and sex. Sara, raw from her own fling, called Riley first, boob flashing on video amid stroking Mike’s cock, then begged Jake back. He pocketed his phone amid sticky sweat, thighs aching beside a sweating Bud Light on hardwood.
Here is your Story: I Fucked My Best Friend After My Girlfriend Broke Up By Text
Jake passed Riley as he pulled up to the house on Elm Street. “Have fun, babes,” she tossed over her shoulder on the way out. He never quite got Riley’s weirdness. There stood his friend in the doorway, wrapped in just a towel. “Hey,” he said. “So you got the text?”
“You know?”
“Of course I know.”
“This was planned?”
“No. A happy accident.”
“I don’t think it was an accident.”
“It was, but that doesn’t matter. It worked out for the best.” She wrapped her arms around him. “It doesn’t feel like it’s for the best,” he said.
“Sara doesn’t have to know.”
“Of course she knows. It was her idea.”
“I didn’t know you two were like that.” He guided her hand away from his crotch. Puzzled, she asked, “Were you just here to warn me?”
“Tell you, yeah.”
“Oh.” She pulled away from the hug. The movement loosened the towel’s knot. It parted and dropped. Jake tried not to look down, but he did, as she clamped her left arm over her breasts and snatched the towel with her right, slapping it across her landing-strip pussy. “Sorry,” she said, clutching the whole thing up in front of her body.
“Well, I came for someone to talk to. To see if you could help me take my mind off it, and that certainly did.”
“You’re mind off…?”
“The text.”
“Why do you need to take your mind off it? I’m the one embarrassed by it.”
“Embarrassed how?”
“Well, I sent it to everyone.”
“The fuck? Who gave you permission to do that?”
“Permission? It was an accident.”
“How did you even get the text?”
“I wrote it!”
“Sara got you to write it?”
“Write what?”
“Her breakup text.”
“Stop. Sara broke up with you?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m so sorry.” She hugged him again. After a moment, she said, “We got our wires crossed. I was talking about a different text. I didn’t know she dumped you.” He handed her the phone. They sat on the floor just inside her door as she read the text. “I’m so sorry,” she said. The front of her towel had fallen into her lap. She didn’t seem to care. He tried not to look at her breasts. She was a friend. He’d only just broken up with Sara. Too soon to move on. And maybe Sara would realize her mistake and want him back. But those were nice boobs. Not as big as Sara’s but with less hang. Perkier, probably, though it sounds cliché. She tapped to delete something from his messages.
Distraction Offer
You came to take your mind off the breakup.” She stood. The towel fell to the floor. Jake’s face sat eye-level with her pussy, a thin line with a hint of pink. Something stirred in his pants. “I came for someone to talk to about it.”
“This is a one-time offer. I’m here for you to take your mind off it. Use me.” She turned. He followed her tight white ass to the bedroom.
SARA
“Wow, that was great. When can we do it again?” Sara asked. Her pussy felt raw from the pounding.
“I think this was really a one-and-done.” Her lover pulled on his pants.
“But I broke up with my boyfriend.”
“I never asked you to do that.”
“You said you wouldn’t sleep with me while I had one.”
“Right. I’m not an asshole. If you’re with someone else, you’re off limits.”
“But I’m single now. We can be together.”
“I already have a girlfriend.”
She threw something at him. “You fucking what?” He swore. “Careful, bitch.”
“You have a fucking girlfriend?”
“I wasn’t allowed to have a boyfriend, but you have a girlfriend?”
Phone Across the Room
We have an arrangement. No second dips. No catching feels. Just fuck the slut and leave.” He headed out. “Speaking of leaving… Goodbye.”
Fuck. She had to get back with Jake. She checked her bedside table for her phone. Not there. She checked her discarded clothes on and beside the bed. Not there either. Then she spotted it across the room, where he’d stood when she threw something at him. She picked it up. There sat a text from R, meant for her boyfriend, Mike. Sent to… well, everyone.
She made a video call. R’s face appeared. “Hey, Sar. What’s up?”
“Not much. Just called to warn you about your text.”
“Yeah, sorry.”
“No, all cool. I just thought you should know before Brad or Tyler show up. Oh… hey… your boob’s in shot.”
“Oh, sorry. I’m just here with my boyfriend, Mike.”
“Well, obviously. Once he got the text he’d be straight over. Oh, well, don’t let me interrupt.”
“You aren’t. See.” The image swung around. It showed R’s free hand stroking an erect cock hard and fast. The hand pulled away for an unobstructed view. “Whaddya think?”
“Um, yeah. Great. Not as nice as Jake’s, but looks fine.” Then she added, loud, “You’re very lucky, Mike.”
R’s face and breasts filled the screen again. “Now I understand why the camera was so shaky.”
“Yeah,” R replied.
“Well, I let you go. Have fun.”
Well, Sara thought, that was… a lot. Shit. Jake. She called him. “Umm, hi,” he said. He looked upset.
“Ah, yeah.” She paused. “I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have broken up with you. I’m sorry.”
He hung his head. “Yet you did. By text.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I want us to be back together, if that’s alright. I understand if it isn’t.”
He perked up. “Yes. Your mouth is better than your hand.”
“Yeah, I know. Texting was poor form. But can we get back together?”
“Oh, yes. Please, yes. God, yes.”
The call cut off. She grinned at the phone in her fist. Jake pocketed his cell on Riley’s bedroom floor, the Bud Light bottle sweating rings into the hardwood beside him. Sara’s voice still buzzed in his ear, desperate, quick. Riley stretched out naked on the rumpled sheets, one knee bent, her chipped blue toenail polish catching the lamp light. He felt the ache in his thighs from earlier, the sticky spot on his thigh where her sweat had dried. “That her?” Riley asked, propping on an elbow. He nodded once. The ceiling fan clicked overhead, stirring the faint smell of her vanilla body spray mixed with sex. He set the phone face-down, thumb tracing the Target sticker peeling at the edge.
