Nichole sat rigid, barely breathing, as a low male chuckle answered. The pizza guy.
Sally giggled, low and teasing. “Tell me, handsome… You got time to help me fill a wet hole tonight?”
The living room glowed softly in the lamplight, the television flickering across the far wall with some half-hearted sitcom rerun neither of them was really paying attention to. Empty soda cans lined the coffee table beside a tangle of throw pillows and a blanket that had slipped to the floor. It was late, a lazy Friday night with no plans. Just two girls sharing a couch and letting the hours slip away.
Nichole sat cross-legged at one end, her back slightly hunched, shoulders narrow beneath a thin white tank top. The straps were delicate and clung just at the edge of her pale skin. The low cut showed off her mid-sized breasts more than she would be comfortable with in public. When she shifted, the thin cotton pulled tight over her chest, and the shape of her nipples pressed faintly through the fabric. Her pleated skirt fanned around her thighs, barely brushing her knees. Every movement made it sway, offering flashes of smooth skin.
Sally sprawled across the opposite end with far less concern for modesty. She lounged sideways, legs stretched out, one knee bent lazily while the other draped off the edge of the couch. Her lacy nightgown was black, sheer in places where the fabric gave way to floral patterns that only partly veiled the curves beneath. The hem rode high on her hips, showing toned legs that caught the lamplight in pale streaks. Her neckline dipped low, lace barely containing the swell of her breasts. The faint shadow of cleavage deepened whenever she leaned forward. The soft fabric moved when she did, sometimes slipping aside to reveal a nipple.
Where Nichole looked careful and contained, Sally radiated ease. Her wavy blonde hair was tied back loosely, a few strands curling around her cheekbones, blue eyes glinting with amusement at whatever offhand joke she had just made. She absently stretched, arching her back, and the thin straps of her gown slipped against her shoulders, teasing as if they might fall further. The room felt warm, saturated with the comfortable closeness of two young women who knew each other well. Nichole’s eyes sometimes flicked toward Sally’s legs before darting back to the screen.
Nichole shifted again on the couch, tugging the hem of her skirt across her thighs as if it mattered. The cotton of her tank clung to her chest. She hugged her knees closer, balancing her soda can on one of them, pretending to be more absorbed in the TV than she was.
Sally stretched out with a groan, bare legs sliding over the cushions until her toes brushed Nichole’s hip. “God, I cannot wait for this semester to be over. If I have to sit through one more three-hour lecture where the professor just reads the slides, I swear I’ll walk out.”
Nichole laughed softly, tilting her head toward her friend. “Which class this time?”
“Psych of Learning,” Sally muttered, rolling her eyes. The nightgown tugged lower as she propped herself up on one elbow, lace shifting with the rise of her breasts. “You’d think a class about how people learn would be taught by someone who knows how to keep people awake.”
Nichole smiled, but her gaze caught on the deep line of cleavage framed by the sheer lace. She looked away quickly, cheeks warming. “At least you’re passing,” she said, voice a little tighter than she meant.
Sally caught it, smirking. “Barely. But yeah. What about you? You still killing yourself with that bio class?”
Nichole nodded, sighing into her drink. “It’s brutal. I've been doing a lot of memorization, and I keep second-guessing myself on the labs. I don’t even know why I picked biology. I just…” She shrugged, resting her chin on her knees. “I like… understanding how things work. Especially bodies.”
Sally laughed. “Bodies, huh? Sounds like you’re already thinking like a doctor. Or maybe a mad scientist.” She reached out, nudging Nichole’s bare calf with her toes again.
Nichole giggled nervously, but her skin tingled where Sally’s foot grazed her. She shifted to set the soda can down, secretly glad to free her hands. She didn’t trust her grip when she felt this jittery.
Her voice softened without her meaning. “Maybe I just… notice people more than I should.”
Sally tilted her head, blonde strands falling against her cheek. “Yeah? Like who?”
Nichole’s stomach fluttered at the question, a rush of heat making her aware of how thin her tank top was, how her nipples pressed against it in the warm air. She tried to laugh it off, heart racing. “Like… everyone,” she said, dodging, but inside she wondered if Sally could already tell exactly who she meant.
Sally sat up suddenly, dragging her knees to her chest as she shifted to face Nichole fully. The lace hem of her nightgown rode higher with the movement, and the delicate fabric parted just enough between her thighs to show her pussy. Her breath caught, gone as quickly as it registered when Sally wrapped her arms around her shins. Nichole stared at the TV too hard, cheeks hot, praying her friend hadn’t noticed the way her eyes darted. But the image lingered in her head anyway. The clean, shaved reveal of her sex, tucked away now behind folded knees. She swallowed, her throat dry, as if she hadn’t just seen the most intimate part of her best friend.
“So,” Sally said, oblivious or pretending to be, “who’s the hottest guy in your bio class? There’s always at least one.”
Nichole forced a laugh. “Um… there’s Derek, I guess. He sits two rows ahead. Kinda tall, messy hair. Everyone stares at him when he talks.”
Nichole shrugged. “A couple. There’s a guy who always shows up late and still manages to look like he came out of a catalog. It’s ridiculous.”
Sally hugged her knees tighter, rocking a little, and her gown shifted again, the lace outlining the curve of one breast. Nichole tried to focus on the conversation instead of how close the fabric was to slipping.
“Okay, but real talk,” Sally said. “Hot in class doesn’t compare to hot at the beach.”
Nichole perked up, smiling despite herself. “You mean when they all play volleyball and just” She gestured helplessly with her hands. “take their shirts off like it’s no big deal.”
“Exactly!” Sally laughed, tossing her hair back. “Like, half of them should be fined for public indecency, looking like that.”
Nichole’s cheeks flushed, but not just from the thought of shirtless guys. “Honestly… It’s not just them. The girls, too. Some of those swimsuits should be illegal.”
The words slipped out before she could filter them. She froze, realizing what she’d admitted. Sally raised her brows, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Oh-ho. So little Nichole likes to sneak looks at the girls, too?”
Nichole’s stomach fluttered, equal parts fear and relief. She tugged at the hem of her skirt, wishing it could cover more than it did. “Sometimes. I just… notice, you know?”
Sally laughed, low and teasing, the sound curling in Nichole’s belly.
“Notice? Sweetheart, that sounds like someone’s got some serious pent-up energy.” She leaned forward, resting her chin on her knees, eyes locked on Nichole. “Tell me the truth… when’s the last time you got laid?”
Nichole’s throat went dry. She shifted, gripping the edge of a pillow. “I haven’t,” she admitted softly. “Not… ever.”
The words hung heavy in the air. Sally blinked, then broke into a wide grin. “You’re kidding. You’re twenty-one, Nicki, and still a virgin?”
Nichole buried her face in her hands, wishing she could sink into the couch. “Don’t make fun of me.”
“I’m not!” Sally insisted, though the sparkle in her eyes said she was enjoying this. She reached out and nudged Nichole’s leg with her toes again. “I’m just… wow. I cannot let you stay that way.”
Nichole’s heart hammered, her pulse in her ears. She couldn’t tell if she was more terrified or excited by the way Sally said it. Nichole sat stiff on the couch, hugging a pillow against her stomach as if it could shield her. Her face was hot. She could feel the flush crawling down her neck into her chest, where her thin tank top did nothing to hide the way her skin colored.
Sally tilted her head, still perched with her knees pulled up, chin resting casually on top. Her eyes glittered with mischief. “So, let me get this straight. Twenty-one years old, and still a virgin. Did you ever even want to lose it?”
Nichole’s breath caught. Her fingers twisted into the pillow seam. She forced herself to glance up, meeting Sally’s gaze for only a second before looking away again. “…Yes.” The word was soft, barely audible.
Sally’s grin widened. “Mm, that blush says everything. So tell me. Who’d you want to give it up to?”
Nichole shook her head quickly, eyes on the television, though she couldn’t have said what was even on the screen. “I don’t… I never really…”
“Oh, come on.” Sally’s tone was mock-scolding, but playful. “Let’s make it easy. Derek? Mr. Messy Hair from bio?”
Nichole squeezed the pillow tighter, eyes darting to the carpet. “…Yeah. I’ve… thought about him.”
Sally hummed. “Figures. What about Ryan? The TA with the glasses?”
Nichole risked a glance at Sally. “He’s cute. But kind of a know-it-all.”
"That doesn't matter if his cock is thick," Sally said.
"I guess." Nichole was trying to melt into the couch.
Sally smirked, rocking a little where she sat. The movement made the lace at her neckline shift to expose a nipple. Nichole’s eyes slipped down before she caught herself, jerking them back to the far wall. Her cheeks burned hotter.
“Okay, okay,” Sally continued. “What about girls? You said you notice them. Like… Kayla, from the lab? That little skirt she wears?”
Nichole buried her face half in the pillow, muffling a laugh. “She’s… pretty.”
“That’s a yes.” Sally chuckled, ticking it off on her fingers. “Let’s see… Madison from the gym?”
Nichole let out a shaky sigh. Her thighs pressed together without her meaning them to. “She has amazing legs,” she admitted, eyes fixed firmly on her soda can now, anywhere but Sally’s face.
“Uh-huh.” Sally’s voice was smug, savoring every admission. “Okay then, what about…” She paused for effect, eyes narrowing in mock consideration. “…Me?”
Nichole froze. Her stomach flipped so hard she almost dropped the pillow. She finally looked up, wide-eyed, meeting Sally’s grin head-on. The silence stretched too long, and then Nichole whispered, “Yes. I’ve… thought about you too.”
Her voice cracked at the end, and she immediately looked away, staring desperately at the lamp, the TV, the blanket crumpled on the floor. Anywhere but at Sally. Her skin prickled all over, as if she’d confessed something dangerous. Sally leaned back against the couch with a laugh that was low and pleased.
“Well, well. Didn’t see that one coming.” She drummed her fingers on her shin, still watching Nichole with a cat’s patience.
Nichole couldn’t stop fidgeting. She tucked her hair behind her ear, then twisted it again, her knee bouncing beneath the skirt. She could feel her tank clinging damp under her arms.
Sally wasn’t done. “Okay. Let’s keep going. Who else? Jacob, from chem?”
Nichole groaned, covering her face with her hands. “Sally…”
“Come on, play along. Jacob, yes or no?”
Nichole peeked through her fingers, half-laughing despite her embarrassment. “No. He’s… weird.”
Sally grinned. “Alright. How about Megan from your dorm? With the nose ring?”
Nichole bit her lip, eyes darting toward the window this time. “…Yes.”
“Oh, I knew it. And what’s his name, Ethan? The swimmer with the abs?”
Nichole hugged the pillow tighter, thighs squeezing together under her skirt. “Yes.”
Sally’s grin was merciless now. “God, Nicki. You’re just a little ball of pent-up lust, aren’t you? Boys, girls… half the campus. No wonder you blush every time someone looks at you.”
Nichole groaned again, hiding her face fully in the pillow this time. She was smiling, but mortified, her heart pounding so hard she thought Sally might hear it. Nichole still had her face buried in the pillow when Sally’s voice dropped lower, sly.
“Be honest with me, Nicki… are you turned on right now?”
Nichole’s head jerked up, eyes wide. Heat rushed to her cheeks, and she hugged the pillow tighter as if that could hide anything. “I don’t know what you mean,” she stammered, her voice too thin to sound convincing.
Sally smirked, resting her chin back on her knees. The lace nightgown shifted again with the movement, and Nichole caught another quick glimpse of the pale skin beneath before wrenching her eyes away.
“Sure you don’t,” Sally drawled. “Your face is red, your thighs are squeezing together… you’re wound so tight, I’m surprised you haven’t snapped yet.”
Nichole tried to laugh, but it came out strained. She fixed her eyes on the soda can on the table, then on the TV, anywhere that wasn’t Sally. Her chest rose and fell too quickly under the thin fabric of her tank, and she knew it was obvious.
“Okay, tell me this,” Sally said, like she was just musing over homework. “What do you actually like better, guys or girls?”
Nichole’s throat tightened. She stared at the blanket crumpled on the floor. “…Both,” she whispered.
Sally leaned forward a little, watching her. “But for different reasons, right? So, what is it about guys?”
Nichole swallowed, forcing words out around the pulse pounding in her ears. “They’re… strong. Confident. It feels safe, sometimes. And… they just…” She trailed off, biting her lip.
“And girls?” Sally pressed, her grin widening.
Nichole’s eyes darted to her friend before dropping instantly back to the carpet. Her voice shook. “Girls are… soft. Beautiful. They… pay attention. It’s different.”
Sally chuckled low, clearly delighted. “Mm, you really have thought about this. God, Nicki, you’re sitting here flushed and squirming, and you’ve never done a single thing about it.”
Nichole hugged the pillow so tight her knuckles whitened. Her tank strap slipped off one shoulder, and she yanked it back up in a nervous gesture.
“Stop…” she muttered, but even she could hear how weak it sounded.
Sally tilted her head, eyes glinting with mischief. “What would you do if I showed you my boobs right now?”
Nichole’s breath caught so sharply that it made her cough. She whipped her gaze to the side. Her whole body felt feverish, the heat pooling low in her belly.
“I don’t know,” she whispered, her voice breaking.
Sally laughed softly, a teasing lilt. “Yeah, you know. You’d stare. You wouldn’t be able to help yourself.”
Nichole buried her face half in the pillow again, mortified and trembling. She had no words, just a muffled sound that made Sally grin wider. Then the sharp ring of the doorbell cut through the air. Both girls jumped slightly. Sally uncurled her legs with a stretch, her nightgown flashing a glimpse of her pussy as she stood.
“Perfect timing,” she said brightly, brushing past Nichole on her way to the door. The scent of her shampoo lingered for a second, making Nichole’s stomach flutter worse than ever. Alone on the couch, Nichole pressed her thighs tighter and exhaled shakily, heart racing as the sound of Sally greeting the pizza guy drifted in from the hall.
Alone in the room for just a moment, she glanced toward the hallway, her mind racing with the thought of sneaking into the bathroom. Just a few minutes to breathe, to touch herself, to let some of this impossible tension bleed away. Before she could decide, Sally’s voice drifted back from the open door, bright and shameless.
“Well, hello there,” Sally purred, her tone instantly transformed into a sultry sing-song. “You’re even cuter than I expected, bringing pizza this late.”
Nichole sat rigid, barely breathing, as a low male chuckle answered. The pizza guy.
Sally giggled, low and teasing. “Tell me, handsome… You got time to help me fill a wet hole tonight?”
Nichole’s heart slammed into her ribs so hard she thought it might burst. She clamped her thighs together, face burning. Did Sally just...? She buried her face in the pillow, mortified and wildly aroused all at once. Every nerve in her body buzzed.
Moments later, laughter and footsteps drew closer. Sally swept back into the living room with a sly smile, balancing two pizza boxes on her hip while the delivery guy followed behind, his eyes curious as they landed on Nichole. He was broad-shouldered, his delivery shirt snug across his chest, and he carried himself with the easy swagger of someone who knew women looked at him.
Sally set the boxes on the table, slid onto the couch beside Nichole, and tugged a slice free. She took a greedy bite, chewing with exaggerated enjoyment before speaking.
“Nicki,” she said through a grin, “this is Chris. And lucky you, he’s more than willing to help you with that needy little tunnel of yours.”
Nichole nearly choked on her breath. “Sally!” she hissed, her whole face blazing.
Chris laughed, clearly entertained. His smirk said he wasn’t backing away from the offer. Nichole ducked her head, staring hard at the box of pizza as though it could swallow her up. Her pulse thudded in her ears. Sally’s words echoed over and over, "needy tunnel". She wanted to die, but also… Chris wasn’t bad-looking. That crooked grin, the casual way he leaned on the back of the couch, forearms taut under rolled sleeves. He was hot. She hated admitting it to herself, but she noticed.
Chris leaned a little closer, his voice smooth. “C’mon. Just trying it once doesn’t hurt. I won't hurt you.”
Nichole hugged the pillow tighter, shaking her head quickly. “I—I can’t. I don’t even know you.”
He chuckled, shrugged. “That’s the point. No strings, no pressure.”
Sally rolled her eyes, licking a bit of sauce from her finger in a way that made Nichole’s stomach flip. “Nicki, look at him. He’s cute, he’s here, and he’s offering. You really want to waste another year overthinking everything?”
Nichole’s stomach fluttered so hard it made her thighs press together again. She thought of something that might get her out of this. Her voice came out small. “Only… only if he uses a condom.”
Chris smiled like he’d won something. “Got one right here.” He patted his back pocket, pulling out his wallet and flipping it open to reveal the square packet tucked inside. Nichole's pussy was beginning to tingle with need.
Sally snorted and wiggled her brows. “Well, well. Somebody came prepared. You must be used to getting invites like this.”
Chris only grinned wider. He pulled off his delivery shirt in one motion, tossing it to the chair, revealing a lean, tanned torso dusted lightly with hair.
Nichole’s stomach flipped again, but she blurted out quickly, “I’m not getting naked. You’ll… you’ll just have to go under my skirt.”
Chris laughed softly, clearly amused. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”
His fingers went to his belt, unbuckling and sliding his jeans down.
Nichole’s eyes darted away instinctively but flicked back despite herself. Her heart sank a little. The bulge in his boxers was underwhelming, not the imposing shape she had nervously pictured. Disappointment tangled strangely with her nerves, leaving her throat tight.
Sally slid closer on the couch, her arm winding easily around Nichole’s shoulders. Before Nichole could react, she was tugged gently down, her head pillowed against Sally’s smooth, bare thigh through the thin lace of her nightgown.
“Shh, relax,” Sally cooed, brushing hair from Nichole’s flushed face. “Look at that sausage he’s got for you.”
Nichole squeaked, mortified, as Chris shoved his boxers down. The square of latex gleamed between his fingers before he rolled the condom over his length in one practiced motion. Sausage? Hardly. The size was underwhelming, nowhere near the bold, daunting thing she had imagined for this moment.
Her breath hitched as he stepped in between her knees and lifted her skirt with a bold tug. Cool air kissed her thighs and then higher, exposing the neat trim she always kept hidden under soft cotton. She wanted to snap her legs shut, but his hand was already guiding them apart. The cool air hit her exposed pussy as her outer lips parted slightly with her legs. Nichole swallowed hard.
Chris pressed against her entrance and pushed in with a sharp thrust. She let out a tiny gasp, more from the shock than pleasure. The stretch was there, the fullness, but it was far less than she had expected. Almost disappointing. She forced herself to make soft, breathy sounds, not wanting Sally or him to know she wasn’t really feeling it.
Sally’s fingers slipped under her tank top, stroking across her stomach before brushing over one breast. When her thumb flicked against Nichole’s nipple, heat flared low in her belly. That touch, soft and teasing, sent a true shiver through her, more real pleasure than anything Chris was giving her.
"Yeah, fuck her virgin pussy." Sally said, clearly enjoying the show.
"Your tight little pussy is so hot," He grunted.
"Fuck me harder." She said with a little squeak as Sally teased her nipple. For a few brief moments, she let herself lean into it, biting her lip, eyes fluttering half-closed as Sally pinched and rolled the bud between her fingers. Chris grunted, body shuddering, and stilled.
Nichole blinked, stunned. Just as quickly as it had begun, he was pulling back, the condom sagging, filled. With casual efficiency, he slid it off, knotted it, and lobbed it into the trash. Sally still cradled Nichole’s head in her lap, but Nichole instantly tugged her skirt down, covering herself the moment Chris stepped away. Her face burned.
He dressed without hurry, grinning at them both. “Well… that was fun. You girls ever want a repeat, just give me a call.”
Sally smirked and tilted her head, ever the flirt. “Oh, we’ll think about it,” Nichole said, nothing. She was clutching the pillow to her chest, her throat too tight for words. When the door shut behind him, Sally’s expression soured.
She threw her hands up. “Unbelievable. He didn’t even try! Just a couple of pumps and done? God, Nicki, I’m sorry. That was pathetic. He didn't even try to make you cum.”
Nichole stayed quiet, curling forward, hugging the pillow hard. Her chest felt heavy with the weight of disappointment. Sally shifted closer, her tone softening. “Hey. Don’t let that ruin you, okay? He doesn’t count. Not really.”
Nichole finally exhaled, voice small. “I knew my first time wouldn’t be great… but I just wish I’d at least enjoyed it.”
Sally groaned, throwing an arm around her shoulders. “Trust me, babe, no one enjoys three inches of disappointment.”
Nichole startled, then snorted a tiny laugh despite herself, cheeks heating. "It was at least four." She said.
"No way, not even three and a half," Sally said, hugging her.
"Whose pussy was he inside of?" Nichole said smugly.
"Fine, Nicki. You win." Sally said, giggling.
Nichole took her own slice, chewing slowly. “At least… at least he was good looking.”
Sally gave a sideways grin. “Oh, sure. Nice jawline, good smile. Shame his dick didn’t live up to the advertising.”
Nichole giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. The tension in her chest loosened. “I guess it could’ve been worse.”
They ate in easy silence for a few minutes, the warmth of the pizza grounding them. But Sally’s gaze lingered, sharp in the soft light of the living room. She noticed the way Nichole shifted her thighs now and then, the subtle flush still painted across her chest, the way she kept pressing the pillow to her stomach.
Sally leaned in, brushing her lips against Nichole’s neck. “You’re still worked up, aren’t you?” she whispered.
Nichole froze, blushing furiously. “I… maybe.”
Sally’s lips curved into a smirk against her skin. “Want me to help you finish properly?”
Nichole swallowed, the air in her lungs suddenly hot. She turned her head slightly, meeting Sally’s playful, confident eyes. Shy, but aching, she nodded. “...Yes.”
Sally slid off the couch gracefully, kneeling on the floor between Nichole’s parted legs. Gently, she tugged the pillow away and nudged the skirt higher. “Just lean back,” she murmured.
Nichole let herself sink into the cushions, her heart pounding, legs trembling as Sally’s hands caressed the insides of her thighs. Then Sally lowered her head, warm breath fanning across her pussy.
The first kiss made Nichole whimper. Soft lips pressed against her most sensitive skin. Then Sally’s tongue flicked lightly, teasing, before dipping deeper with practiced skill. Nichole gasped, hips twitching, fingers clutching at the couch. Every slow swirl of Sally’s tongue dragged pleasure up from somewhere low and aching, something that had been begging for release. When Sally slipped two fingers inside, curling them just right, Nichole cried out, her whole body arching.
It built slowly, steadily, irresistibly until it broke. A wave of ecstasy tore through her, and she clung to the cushions, to the moment, to Sally.
Sally eased her through it, lapping gently, fingers slowing until Nichole collapsed back against the couch, trembling and breathless. With a satisfied grin, Sally wiped her lips and climbed back up beside her.
She grabbed another slice of pizza and bit into it casually. “Don’t tell my boyfriend, okay?”
Nichole burst out laughing, covering her red face with her hands. “God, Sally!”
They sat shoulder to shoulder, eating pizza again as though nothing had happened. After a quiet moment, Nichole tilted her head, curiosity breaking through. “Where did you even learn to do that? You… you were amazing.”
Sally smirked, licking sauce from her thumb. “Mm, practice. And, you know… four porn videos a while back.”
Nichole nearly choked on her bite. “What?!”
“Yep. Three of them had another girl. Great training, honestly.”
Nichole nudged her hard, laughing. “You have to show me. Which ones?”
Sally leaned against the couch cushions, phone in hand, thumb flying across the screen. “Okay, okay, found one. But don’t laugh too hard, alright?”
Nichole tucked her legs under herself, leaning close, cheeks pink with both nerves and anticipation. “You’re showing me porn… with you in it. Of course I’m going to laugh.”
Sally shot her a mock glare, then hit play. The screen lit up with a poorly lit bedroom. The camera wobbled as some guy’s voice announced: “Roommates gone wild, take one.”
Nichole clapped a hand over her mouth to hold in the giggle already bubbling out. Onscreen, Sally appeared in pigtails, wearing a skimpy plaid skirt and a crop top tied just below her chest. She struck a dramatic pose at the foot of a bed, looking over her shoulder at another girl in knee socks. “Oh no,” she said in a sing-song voice, “I can’t believe we both wore the same panties today.”
Nichole lost it. She doubled over, laughing so hard she had to put her slice of pizza down. “That’s the line?! Oh my god!”
Sally groaned, burying her face in a throw pillow. “Don’t judge me! It paid my rent for two months!”
Onscreen, the other girl replied with a stiff, monotone delivery: “Maybe we should… take them off and compare.”
Nichole wheezed with laughter, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. “It’s like watching a bad high school play but with pussy!”
The video cut to Sally tugging off her top, her bare chest bouncing into frame. The cameraman zoomed in awkwardly, and the other actress fell to her knees with exaggerated enthusiasm. Nichole froze for a moment, blinking at the screen, then looked at Sally with wide eyes. “...Wow. Okay, yeah, I get it now. You’re… really hot on camera.”
"Bold statement. Only your nice boobs save this." Nichole said slyly.
"Hey. I have fantastic boobs." Sally giggled.
Nichole swatted her arm, laughing again. “You sound so cocky. But seriously, how did you not crack up while filming?”
“Oh, I did,” Sally admitted, rolling her eyes. “Took us six takes to get that panties line out without laughing.”
They kept watching a little longer, alternating between hysterics at the awful dialogue and quiet awe when Sally’s practiced skill showed. The mix of ridiculousness and genuine heat made Nichole’s cheeks burn. She couldn’t stop smiling.
Sally paused the video, tossing her phone aside. “See? Not so bad.”
Nichole hugged her pillow, grinning like an idiot. “Honestly, it’s the best porn I’ve ever seen. Because I get to tease you for it forever.”
Sally laughed, tackling her sideways into the cushions. “Brat. You'd better not tell anyone.”
“That writing is awful,” Nichole said between laughs. “People actually jerk off to this?”
“They do,” Sally smirked. “And hey, don’t judge too hard, that’s my butt right there.”
They laughed until their stomachs hurt, curled up close, the weight of the awkward night fading into something sweet, conspiratorial, theirs alone.
As the laughter died down, Sally rested her head on Nichole’s shoulder. “I’ll call a guy I know in the industry,” she said softly, almost like a promise. “Someone who actually knows how to give a girl a proper fuck. Your first real time should be better than that.”
Nichole blushed, smiling into her slice. “...Okay.”
The night wound down with their friendship stronger, closer, and filled with the warm spark of secrets shared.