Quietly I slipped off my jeans and t-shirt standing in the doorway in nothing but my lace bra and panties feeling the warm summer air brushing against my skin. Softly I crept towards him and crawled into his lap guiding his hands to my lace covered breasts and letting him squeeze them gently. He tried to pull the headphones from his ears but I pulled his hands away wrapping them around my tummy and spreading my legs grinding up against his hard cock trying to rip free of his work jeans. Pushing him back against the couch gently and lacing his fingers against mine before pushing them back against the cushions I kissed him hard. Spreading my lips and letting my tongue explore wrestling against his and grinding my hips against the zipper of his pants soaking my panties even more. Moaning against my lips he pushed back against my hands, slipping out of my fingers he traced his hands along the lace of my bra to my back fumbling with the claps as he unhooked it and slipped it down my. Just to look at her was enough to harden any guy’s cock, so why did she never seem to have a man? There was one man who was consistent in her life, her best friend Dean. They had known each other since high school, but the reason for their friendship was a mystery, even to them. He was a quintessential bad boy, with carefully messed hair, a leather jacket and a fondness for alcohol and drugs. He had light brown hair and hazel eyes, he was a few inches taller than Jenny, and his body was lean, but well sculpted. He was snarky and sarcastic, and went through women by the dozen. Nothing seemed to faze Dean, but he had a soft spot for a certain distance runner. One day, Jenny was out running on the back trails behind campus. It was a recovery run day, so her workout didn’t have to be too intense. She felt her heart beat in her chest, and her breathing matched with the pace of her footfalls. Everything should have been right in the world. But there was something off that day. Her thoughts.
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