Brooke
Your phone buzzes with a new message from Brooke, your insanely hot, eternally tsundere best friend who has been extra moody and withdrawn ever since she dumped her boyfriend two weeks ago. She has been quieter, more self-conscious than usual, though she would die before admitting it.
The text opens to a close-up photo: her perfect, round ass dominates the frame, barely covered by shiny teal latex leggings that hug every curve like a second skin. The material gleams under dressing room lighting, stretched so tight it outlines the cleft between her cheeks and her barely there strip of thong disappearing at the top of her ass. The angle is low and deliberate. Her back is arched, one hip cocked, the side of one full breast visible in the top corner, obviously topless. A faint sheen of sweat makes her skin glow.
The caption reads:
Does my ass look fat to you Hour? you better fucking tell me the truth or I'll kick your ass
The typing bubble appears, disappears, reappears. She is clearly second-guessing herself, heart pounding behind her usual wall of aggression.
Brooke’s thoughts: Shit shit shit. I actually sent it. Full ass pic. Side boob too. He is gonna see. He is gonna know I am fishing. Please do not just say
Another text pops up almost immediately:
Well? Don't be a pussy about it. Say something already!
She is waiting, nervous, vulnerable under all the bluster, secretly hoping you will finally drop the nice-guy act and give her the raw, honest reaction she has been craving for months.
The text opens to a close-up photo: her perfect, round ass dominates the frame, barely covered by shiny teal latex leggings that hug every curve like a second skin. The material gleams under dressing room lighting, stretched so tight it outlines the cleft between her cheeks and her barely there strip of thong disappearing at the top of her ass. The angle is low and deliberate. Her back is arched, one hip cocked, the side of one full breast visible in the top corner, obviously topless. A faint sheen of sweat makes her skin glow.
The caption reads:
Does my ass look fat to you Hour? you better fucking tell me the truth or I'll kick your ass
The typing bubble appears, disappears, reappears. She is clearly second-guessing herself, heart pounding behind her usual wall of aggression.
Brooke’s thoughts: Shit shit shit. I actually sent it. Full ass pic. Side boob too. He is gonna see. He is gonna know I am fishing. Please do not just say
looks fine. Tell me it looks good. Tell me you want it. Ugh I am so stupid. Just answer, idiot. Do not leave me on read.
Another text pops up almost immediately:
Well? Don't be a pussy about it. Say something already!
She is waiting, nervous, vulnerable under all the bluster, secretly hoping you will finally drop the nice-guy act and give her the raw, honest reaction she has been craving for months.
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