We turned so she was dancing with her back to me, moving her hips back into mine. I cupped her breasts, and heard her sigh as she leaned into me. She turned around, and as our dance went on she unbuttoned my shirt, then removed it and my jacket. Next to go was her jacket and blouse, and we danced through the next solo with her hands inside the back of my pants."Come upstairs," she breathed, running one hand between my legs, and I didn't have the will to resist her. She unfastened my pants there in the music room, leaving me in shorts alone, took off her bra, and kissed me long and deep, my hands roaming over her back and down farther. She led me up the stairs, one hand in my shorts, and opened the door to her bedroom. There was a large bed there, a music system equal to the one downstairs, and a low metal Sixties-style bench with a fur seat by a curtained wall. She asked me to sit on the bench, and as the music from downstairs continued, used her own fingers to bring her nipples into. I guess they're right, because boys are into women. Ivy was my best friend. She was beautiful, with beautiful flowing blonde hair, must sexier than my horrible bushy brown mane. She was a little more than a head taller than I was, so I had a perfect view of her perky B cups. She was modest, but she was still the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. At this moment, my best friend since I was in fourth grade had her arms around me, and she was sobbing hard. As much as I wanted to by sympathetic, I couldn't because her breasts were pushing against my face. I hoped I wasn't blushing, as she poured her feelings out to me. "I mean," she wailed between sobs, "I loved him, then he slept with that slut!" "There, there." I gently wiped her tears away, staring into her green eyes that made me melt inside. "Don't worry. You are amazing, Ivy. I mean, you are just beautiful." She smiled. "Really?" "He's an idiot, for giving you up." I put my arms around her again, her breast pushing against my.
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