She had the kind of legs that you noticed, that you watched, that you wish you had…. They were also the kind of legs that you lusted after. And it was in this moment of observation that I realized that I had been staring at my best friend's legs. Hard.
"See something you like, P. Sawyer?" Brooke asked me with a smirk, crossing her legs and tilting her glass to empty the last of it's alcohol content into her mouth. I felt myself blush.
"Sorry, I-"
"Don't worry about it," she said lightly. "People do it all the time. Plus, you're drunk, I'm drunk… We'll forget it ever happened in the morning." I paused.
"Wait, forget what?" I thought we were only talking about legs… What would there be to forget in the morning? But then my question was answered when I realized that Brooke was standing and was in my space. She had left her empty glass on the counter behind her and one hand tucked hair behind my ear. My eyes flickered between her hand and her eyes, the lust in them startling me. She smiled gently, just so I could barely see her teeth below her upper lip, and tilted her head to angle her mouth to my ear. Her breath made me shiver.
"Just one night," she said, and I could feel her stomach press against mine, her breasts press against mine. Her lips grazed the skin of my neck just below my earlobe and I shuddered, leaning my head back involuntarily. I nodded.
"Okay," I breathed, my voice weaker than I had expected it to be. I felt her press her smile into my skin just as her leg slipped easily between my thighs. I grabbed her, my lusty drunken stupor taking over.
In the morning, I remembered every detail.