Olya’s apartment was a mess, a testament to the raucous party she had thrown the night before. Now, alone and drunk, she craved more vodka to keep the buzz going. She stumbled to her kitchen, rummaging through cabinets, but came up empty-handed.
“Fuck,” she muttered, leaning against the counter. Her phone was within arm’s reach, and an idea struck her. She could call her best friend Richard, who always had a way of making her feel better. She dialed his number, slurring her request for alcohol.
Richard answered on the third ring, his voice tinged with concern. “Olya, are you okay? It’s late, and you sound…”
“Drunk,” she finished for him, giggling. “I need more vodka. Please, Richard, come over.”
There was a pause before he sighed. “Alright, I’ll bring you a bottle. But what do I get in return?”
Olya rolled her eyes, even though Richard couldn’t see her. “You get my undying gratitude, Richard. Now hurry up.”
Twenty minutes later, Richard arrived, and Olya greeted him with joy. She wore a short robe, barely covering her black transparent panties. Richard raised an eyebrow, trying to hide his amusement. “You really are drunk, aren’t you?”
“Maybe,” she said, taking the bottle from him. “Thank you, Richard. You’re a lifesaver.”
They settled on her couch, and Richard brought up the topic of his reward. Olya, still drunk, suggested cooking something for him, but Richard declined. Instead, he put his hand under her robe, kneading her breasts.
Olya was surprised but didn’t push him away. Richard had always been forward, and she found his boldness endearing. But then she remembered her boyfriend and pushed him away. “Richard, I can’t. I have a boyfriend.”
Richard shrugged, pulling out his dick. “You can still suck it.”
Olya’s eyes widened, but she didn’t resist as Richard forced her to suck him off. She was too drunk to fight back, and before she knew it, Richard had knocked her onto the bed, opened her robe, and started fucking her.
Olya’s legs twitched as Richard thrust into her. She was confused, unsure of how she felt about what was happening. But then she remembered the vodka, and the fact that Richard had brought it for her. That was all that mattered.
Richard roared, finishing inside her. Olya lay there, cum dripping from her pussy, but she didn’t care. She was still drunk, and the buzz was all that mattered.
They continued drinking, and Olya sat on Richard’s lap, allowing him to grope her tits and stroke her pussy. Despite what had just happened, Olya was still comfortable with her best friend.
Richard, feeling satisfied, made a playful insult about Olya’s boyfriend, and they both laughed it off as they continued drinking and enjoying each other’s company. Olya didn’t care about the consequences of her actions. She was too drunk, and the vodka was all that mattered.
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