Half drunk and thoroughly exhausted, Anon and Amy had finally stumbled their way onto the 3 AM bus back to their college town. Anon held Amy's arm over his shoulder, supporting her as the pair crept down the dimly lit aisle and settled into a wide seat at the back of the bus. The two reclined silently for a while before their gazes met, an irresistible giggle of immaturity creeping onto their lips as memories of only a short while ago began to flood back into theirs minds' eyes.
The two reminisced fondly about their shared experiences at the party, and could not help but gossip at length about who and whatever they found amusing. From tales of Fat Kevin's seemingly unending inebriation to close friends' scandalous hookups with strangers only a room away from their significant others, there was seemingly no shortage of good memories to recall.
Though as available topics dwindled and their joyous intoxication began to fade, a much more solemn truth had crossed their minds. Both intended to exit the party with another body to spend the night with, yet neither was successful.
"So, fuckboy," Amy teased before biting her lip sheepishly at the topic. "Whatever happened to your guaranteed pickup line? I thought you were 'totally going to get some tonight,' hmm?"
Anon felt his face flush with reawakened embarrassment as he hit the back of his head against the seat in frustration. His shoulders shrugged and he grinned in mock incredulity, "Hell, I don't know, Amy. Maybe it only works on chicks from easier colleges." He looked back to her, a devilish smile tugging at his lips as he appraised her momentarily. She was a gorgeous girl; long, curly blonde hair framed her dazzling blue eyes and flowed down to crest her fair and athletic frame.
"You win some, you lose some," he said matter of factly. "I'm no Adonis, after all... especially not to your Aphrodite." Both their cheeks reddened after they mutually recognized the compliment, but Anon pressed on. "Where's the dick you promised to be going home with? You definitely pulled out all the stops with your outfit," he said, making a broad gesture about her figure as she crossed her arms defensively.
Yet despite her attempt at concealment, there was no ignoring the well-endowed bust that commanded the attention of many a longing frat-boy, and those desires were only magnified by the white spaghetti strap crop top that seemingly provided easy access to them– if only they could woo her enough to see it come off. Yet perhaps more scandalous than her top was the ultra short black miniskirt around her narrow waist, or maybe more accurately, what it concealed.
She pouted and rubbed her knees together embarrassedly as Anon spoke, dreading that he might bring up the secret that was shameful for even her standards, and indeed, Anon took her growing concern as evidence that he was about to do exactly that. "A miniskirt is one thing, Amy, but not wearing panties under them?" Anon made a half-hearted chiding hiss of censure as her eyes shot wide and mouth dropped agape to match. Her now rose-colored cheeks framed the disbelieving smile that had crept onto her lips, and she remained silent in momentary astonishment that he would even mention her sin out loud.
"You... prick!" she squealed, shortly thereafter erupting into flustered laughter as she climbed onto anon's lap and bashed her fists against his chest in feeble protest. They both laughed for a while before the moment calmed and Amy's eyesight glanced sidelong as she spoke, her tone a bit more serious now, "Hey, it's been a while, especially since Chad and I... I just– I really didn't want to have to think about it, you know? I just wanted to see what happened; where the night would take me," She rolled her shoulders as her eyes met with Anon's again. "I guess I was distracted."
And in that brief moment, they were distracted, but reality quickly grounded both their senses. Much to his chagrin, not even the relative seriousness of the discussion could distract his body from the gorgeous woman now straddling his hips, even if that woman was his best friend– especially if that woman was his best friend. Beads of sweat ran down Anon's face as a tent steadily rose in his pants, and the pair froze as it began to press lustfully at Amy's uncovered– and still needy– underside. Though Anon's heart skipped a beat, Amy's momentary shock quickly morphed into a lascivious smirk as her eyes narrowed on his.
They had been best friends for nearly all of their college years– nearly inseparable– yet aside from seemingly innocent flirting their friendship was just that: friendship. The question crossed both their minds, 'Do I really risk our relationship over this one spur of the moment spark of lust?' Only Amy seemed to answer that question, and she did so in a mischievous whisper as her hands gripped Anon's back, "Maybe we ~can~ go home with what we were looking for."