Blinking in confusion, you can't escape the idea that you've lost something important. The woman opposite is familiar... Sandi... Yes! Sandi Alexander.
"Hi... Sandi."
Sadly, as pretty as she is, she lacks the one feature you need... well want. You may be a little free thinking but you're not the nympho slut that people call you.
"Michelle." She answer a little coldly.
Your nips stiffen, diamond hard at the thought of a man and his nice cock... Any man, well one with a thick, veiny cock, enough length to make you glad you're a woman, and warble with delight... That's not too much, is it?
"This isn't too slutty, is it?" you ask. Half hoping she tells you it is.
The dress is white, teasingly thin and turns transparent when it gets wet.
"No, it's perfect... for you." Sandi answers. Again the hint of anger is clear in her voice. But she continues, "I just don't have the daring to pull off such an outfit." she confesses.
Perhaps knowing your exhibitionist instincts, she gestures for you to pirouette.
Happily, you oblige giving her the full show. Your bust jiggling at the tiny jarring steps, the spaghetti straps always in danger of snapping, the ripple of your ass cheeks, and the breeze over your lush, rips hips adds to the appeal.
Unable to control yourself, you hug her. Happy to have such a good friend.
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