Anne was our best friend. We were inseparable the last two years in college. My wife and I lived in university housing for married students, Anne in the towers across campus. On any giving night we could be found either in our apartment drinking and partying or in the dorm room doing the same. Somehow we still managed to get to class the next day. I still don’t know how.
This night found us an Anne’s trying to console her latest failing attempt at a relationship. My wife and I couldn’t understand it. Anne was pretty, sexy, petite, 5’3″ tall, with the most incredibly green eyes I had ever seen. She had long silky blonde hair, and small but perfectly shaped tits. Her ass was tight and tiny, and her lips were just asking to be kissed. But no matter what she did, the guys would date her once and then vanish into the ozone. And it wasn’t because she was a prude.
She had often told us tales about “the one” she had meant last night at the Petals, our local drinking spot and how they had gone back to her dorm room and fucked each other crazy all night.
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