The connection went dead a few seconds later and I just kind of sat there with my hand down my panties. I looked over at the nightstand where I kept my favorite vibrator. I still needed an orgasm and, if Brad couldn’t help via video chat, I was committed to finishing the job myself.
I reached for the drawer and my phone lit up with a message. I grabbed it hoping it was Brad.
“Hey, what are you doing?” It was my best friend Casey.
I flipped to her chat and started typing. “Sweating in my room, what ru doing?”
Casey and I had been friends since my freshman year. She was the first roommate I ever had, but after second semester, she needed to save money, so she moved back in with her parents. I couldn’t blame her, sitting in my dorm room sweating like I was on trial for murder, I kind of wished my parents lived close enough for me to commute.
“Come over,” Casey’s message flashed on the screen.
I thought of waiting around for Brad to get back to me. Then I thought about how hot I was and how cold the air conditioning at Casey’s house was. She also had food, something the tiny fridge in my dorm room was devoid of.
“On my way,” my fingers flew across the little screen and I hit send. Now, where did Brad go? I was just about to flip back to his message when the phone rang, and his image popped onto the screen.
“Hey you,” I said.
“Sorry about that, babe. Coach just walked right into my room.” Brad sounded hurried and I could hear an engine in the background.
“Are you going somewhere?” I asked.
“On our way to the university, there is some kind of welcome dinner or something.”
I sighed. Brad was always so busy with football. It was a little frustrating sometimes. “Alright, well, I guess we’ll finish what we started lat…”
“Hey, babe, I gotta go. I’ll call you in the morning, alright?”
“Okay, have a good…” The call ended before I could finish saying goodbye.
“What the fuck?” I tossed my phone onto the bed. I was instantly angry, like someone had just punched a kitten right in front of me. If Brad had been in my room right then, I would have slapped him, hard, right in the face.
I remembered it was Friday night and grabbed my phone to text Casey. “Want to go out later?”
“Yeah, after I get some work done, sure.”
I smiled and typed: On my way.
I tossed my phone on the bed and looked down at the beat-up jeans and sweatshirt I was currently sporting. Nope, not going to do. I walked to my closet and grabbed a few things, tossing everything on the bed while I tried to figure out exactly what kind of out Casey and I were going to go looking for. Was it going to be a quiet bar and a few drinks with the possibility of entertaining a few select offers or was it going to be one of those nights where the music goes boom boom and there are more free drinks than anyone should ever be allowed to have?
After tossing half my closet on the bed, I decided I needed clarification on what Casey was thinking. What should I wear?
My phone beeped. Something…sexy.
Something sexy. I saw a little gray skirt and grabbed a dark red top with a plunging neckline. The whole think would be topped off with thigh-high stockings and red heels to match the top.
Putting the outfit on, I stepped over to the mirror and looked it over. It wasn’t bad, the proper amount of thigh and just enough cleavage on display. I wondered what Casey was going to wear. It would be a skirt and blouse or a dress, she wasn’t that girl. Don’t get me wrong, Casey was a drop-dead knockout, guys often completely ignored me if she was alone, but when given the choice to wear a pretty dress or a pair of jeans, Casey was going jeans every time.
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