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What Are Best Friends For?

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"Sandy's knockers are small, that's true, but hot, man, so very hot!"

Danny moans just thinking about it.

"Frenchy's might be bigger, true. Yeah, they're definitely bigger."

He slurs a little too, now.

"But there's something... refined about Sandy's tits. They're just so round. And so pointy, and..."

He breaks off with a long exhale and the thought is soon lost.

"Shit, I love girl parts, I got to tell you, man."

He leans back against the headrest and closes his eyes.

"The best part is her ass though, have you seen it? Of course you have man, I've seen you looking. That ass is smoking hot, man!"

Reminded, he takes a hitched, but deep drag of his cigarette and then lets the smoke out in a slow and sensuous whirl that matches the curl of his greaser pompadour perfectly.

"That ass. Rubbing against my lap, teasing and rubbing, grinding down just so good. I bet her pussy lips are all swollen inside those lethal trousers she has, just from rubbing and gliding together in their pussy juices... I bet if I got my finger in there, she'd just grip it tight, so hot, so wet, so..."

His voice dips low to barely audible and then, as his back arches out from the car seat, transforms to a:

"Aaah, yes, just...Ah! Kenickie! Fuuuck, yes!"

Drained out, breathing hard, Danny slowly uncurls. He leans forward to look down in his lap, where Kenickie is slowly sucking the last drops of come from his cock.

"Rizz also has a great ass... No biting, fucker!"

He laughs and Kenickie; straightening up beside him in the car, laughs too.

"Have you gotten to third base with Sandy yet?"

He gets a questioning look from Kenickie. They're sitting in half dark, only lit by the lights of the city below them.

"No, I don't want to push it, man. That's what I got you for."

Danny punches Kenickie in the shoulder: light, friendly like.

"Rizz has gotten way stricter now, since her knock up scare. I haven't gotten any for days."

"Aww, Kenickie! I'll take care of you. What are best friends for?"

Danny leans over and places a warm palm over Kenickie's greasy fly. It opens easily and Danny leans into Kenickie's soft, strawberry milkshake and gasoline smelling neck and whispers:

"Think about her now. What do you want to do to her..."