May's birthday

May turned twenty-five and a few of us girls threw her a little party at a neighborhood restaurant. I drove over to Sandra’s to pick her up. She was still fussing with her hair when she let me in, her blond strands catching the light, her big tits pressing against the low neckline of her dress. In the middle of the living-room floor sat her new chocolate-brown puppy, Coco, tail whipping back and forth. Sandra dropped to her knees to scoop him up, and the hem of her skirt rode high, showing the full curve of her ass. She laughed, kissed the pup between the ears, then glanced up at me with that slow, knowing smile of hers. The camera caught every flicker of mischief in her eyes.