Brandi Edwards lived just down the hall from her best friend Susan Simpson. Their families had moved into their condos on the same day almost six years ago. Both families were each blessed with a daughter of the same age and so they struck up a friendship that moving day that saw them eventually even take vacations together long after the girls had moved away to college. Both girls had now finished their undergrad degrees; Susan was going on to medical school; Brandi was already in law school. She was the cheeky one.
This morning, Brandi had just finished reading the latest issue of Cosmo and had uncovered some insight into a long burning topic that she and Susan were both intensely curious about. Intent on sharing with her gal pal, Brandi had tried texting and Twittering her, but got no response.
'Maybe the little tart is still in bed,' she thought. Grabbing the magazine and the Simpson's spare key she decided to check out for herself.
Brandi let herself into the Simpsons' condo and called out, "Anybody home?" She headed for Susan's bedroom, bent on waking that sleepy head up, but when she opened the door all she discovered was an unmade bed. She heard the distant sound of running water. 'Aha!', she thought, 'The little minx is using her parents' bathroom.'
Though initially intent on scaring the crap out of her, by surprising her in the shower, Brandi thought the better of it. Susan would probably slip and bash her head, so instead she plopped herself down on the king sized bed, and began re-reading the article while waiting.
Steve Simpson was looking forward to having the house to himself finally. Internet Porn and Pizza! The ladies were away in Montreal for the weekend on a mom and daughter getaway. He turned off the shower, wrapped a towel around his waist and headed for the bedroom.
"Ahhhh!" The woman's scream stopped Steve dead in his tracks. "What the fuck?"
Brandi had leapt to her knees on the bed, clutching the Cosmo magazine as a shield.
"Brandi?"
"Mr. Simpson?! What, what are you doing here?"
"I live here. What are you doing here?"
"Of course. Fuck! Mr. Simpson, you scared the shit out of me. I thought it was Susan in the shower. I let myself in with the shared key. I had something urgent to discuss with her.
"Jeez, Brandi, you can't be popping in like that. What if I didn't have a towel on?"
Brandi looked at him and smirked. "Then I'd have seen you bare ass naked. What the fuck's it matter Mr. Simpson? Relax." Sure he was an older dude, she thought, but she always thought Mr. Simpson was cute and funny and he was not serious like her dad.
"Brandi, you might consider doing something about the vocabulary."
"Sure. So where's Susan?"
"In Montreal, with her mom. Girls weekend."
"Ohhh No! Mr. Simpson," she remarked sarcastically, "so you're home alone. Porn and pizza?"
"Ha, ha."
She moved across the bed on her knees toward him. As she approached, Steve remembered it had been at least a year since he last saw Brandi and he took the time to appreciate just how much she had matured. Gone was the awkward gangly sporty teenager he remembered when the girls were in high school. Brandi had become a very attractive young woman. Her outfit didn't disguise much; a white sleeveless knit crop top hugged her full firm breasts and at the same time revealed her strong toned arms and shoulders. The taut fabric just contained her pert nipples. The short pink tartan skirt, tied with pink ribbon confirmed she was still a playful tease at twenty-five.
"God! Mr. Simpson, you must have so much fun in this bed. It's like a freaking gym mat from my gymnastic days." As if to prove the point, Brandi rolled on her back giving Steve a perfect flash of her green lace briefs before springing up and landing beside him. It would have been a perfect dismount except her 4" white heels caused her to stumble into Steve.
Steve moved to catch her, which he did, but in the attempt he lost his towel. Brandi burst out laughing as she straightened herself out. "You're sporting a bit of a boner there, Mr. Simpson." Steve awkwardly tried to cover himself, "Relax. I've seen a few cocks." She picked up the towel, handing it to him. "Here, cover that bad boy up before I get ideas," she chuckled.
"Sit down," she patted the bed beside her, "You just might be able to advise me, since Susan isn't here."
Steve wrapped himself in the towel and sat as instructed, his awkward bulge less evident as he placed his hand on his lap.
"See. Look here, I was reading this article in Cosmo," she continued. "It explained how facials can help prevent a woman's skin from aging. It's not a big worry for me now, but a woman can't start too young to have the proper regime in place."
"You mean like facial masks and stuff? Brandi, how would I know if spreading all that muck on your face works or not? Near as I can recall Mrs. Simpson doesn't do that, so I'm not sure how I can help you."
"No, silly. Look, here's the article," she flipped open to the page. "So this beauty blogger claims semen facials cured her skin condition."
"Semen facials?"
"Yes. You know; cum, jizz, spunk, your man sauce."
"Seriously? Brandi, this is one of those April Fools articles and they got you."
