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Removing The Friendship Belt (Free Preview)

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“I need your help,” Jon said. He stood in the middle of the beach resort hotel room fidgeting with his belt.

“How drunk are you?” I asked. I had more than a handful of drinks at the wedding reception and I was feeling a comfortable warm buzz.

“It’s a new belt.”

“Likely story,” I said as I lowered my head to look at the belt. I tugged on the belt to see if the buckle would come loose but got the same results he was getting. 

I couldn’t comfortably stay bent over for long, so I got on my knees to get a better look. He looked down at me. I looked up at him.

“You just wanted me in this position,” I said with a load of sarcasm.

“It is a nice view.” He said and we both giggled. I was wearing a low-cut topical blue dress that exposed a lot of cleavage. My first instinct was to cover that cleavage with my arms, but it was Jon.

I fidgeted with his belt buckle trying to figure out how to undo it. There was no obvious way. There was no button, no lever to move, nothing to make it open. 

But I did notice something. “Are you getting hard?”

“I’m sorry.” He said. “It’s just…”

We’d been friends since high school. Just friends. He’d ask me to join him as his plus one. Without even discussing it, I knew it was just as friends. Even though it was a destination wedding with a shared hotel room, I expected it to be platonic. 

He was good-looking, but not that kind of good-looking. I’d never imagined what it would be like with him. He’d never even made a move on me any of the dozens of times before when we were drunk and just the two of us.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” I said softly. 

“It’s just. I don’t know.”

“It’s okay. I have tits. You have a cock.” But was I talking about his growing erection or was I talking about something else? But we could never. He wasn’t the kind of guy that could separate sex from something more. 

Not to mention I knew I wasn’t the girl he really wanted to come along with him on this trip. I mean we were having fun, but he was in love with a girl that wasn’t me. She couldn’t have been more different than me.

But I was there. And I think the alcohol made us both horny. 

I found a latch at the bottom of the belt buckle and his belt slid open.

Neither of us said a thing. We didn’t look at each other. We both looked at the now open belt.

The slut in me came out in me. “Do you want me to?” I asked.

He didn’t answer right away. He looked like he went weak in his knees and like he might collapse. “Yes.” He said, barely louder than a whisper.

I shook my head no, but I pulled his pants down, then his boxers. His long cock with an extra large head was right in front of me. He was already rock-hard.

I’d say I went on autopilot. I was on my knees the way I had been for many guys before him. I leaned forward and kissed the tip of his hard cock…

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