Best Friends

Maes/Roy. R. ~200 words. Crossdressing.
So, Roy’s a little drunk.

Roy’s skin is flushed with alcohol and the less-than-savory smoke curling through the air. His eyes are dazed and unfocused, lips curved just at the corners with an anticipatory smile.

So, Roy’s a little drunk.

Hughes’s fingertips trail over the thin stockings that creep up Roy’s legs, stopping under the hem to stroke the soft, bare flesh just above the garters.

Maybe he’s even a little high.

Roy spreads his thighs without prompting, and he slumps lower in the deep-cushioned chair. Hughes’s knuckles brush the warm cotton stretched tight over his dick. A low moan falls from Roy’s kiss-bruised lips.

And okay, he’s more than a little hard.

Hughes leans forward, his other hand following the same path of the first up Roy’s leg, skipping up to slip inside the unbuttoned shirt. His thumb grazes a nipple, teases relentlessly until Roy’s back arches and another one of those perfect moans escapes him.

It wouldn’t really be taking advantage of him–getting him in the skirt in the first place was taking advantage. This is more like alleviating his suffering. Helping a friend in need.

Roy licks his lips and cups his cock through the tented skirt, eyes slowly closing as he strokes himself.

Besides, what are best friends for?


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