Her face and her pussy

Jess, your friend from high school, sends you a picture that says "Friendzone." It's a gorgeous face shot of her dazzling green eyes and her kinky, curly crimson locks framing her freckled, pale face. Her pink lips were full and she had a curious smile. You've known that face for over a decade, and you've fantasized about being with her quite a lot, but she's always been just a friend...a hell of a friend, but only ever a friend.

"Do you want to stay in the Friendzone?" she texts back after a second.

"Is leaving it an option?" you respond back. You text Jane and tell her, "Chatting with Jess, getting a gorgeous shot of her lips," and grin at your double meaning.

"Are they all pink?" Jane responds quickly.

"They are," you shoot back.

"Are they all moist?" she texts quickly

"Mmmm...not as moist as they could be, but they're a good start."

"So they don't look like these?" Jane texts back, along with a picture of her naked, sitting on a tool scattered workbench. She was spread wide open and her pussy was absolutely dripping wet. It was a hell of a close up and you started rubbing your cock. It didn't dawn on you that it would have been impossible for her to take the picture herself; just that she was wet, wide open, and spread like Christmas Dinner on Jason's work bench. Fuck, there was already a puddle under her.

"OMFG" you text back. "Where's Jason?"

"He's taking care of business," Jane sends back. Another picture came of her with a screw driver in her pussy, handle-end first. You knew that screw driver, and judging from the fact that only three inches of it was sticking out of her box, there was 10 inches stretching her deep. "Suppose he'll mind?" she responded right away. "Should I fuck the rest of his tools?"

"FUCK!" you text and then get a text from Jess. It says "Funzone" and it's a picture of her pussy. She's wearing the same shirt as she is in the picture, you can see her holding it up, framing her flame-red bush. The skin beneath the thatch of heart-shaped, hockey puck-sized crimson carpet is bare and pale, except for her pink lips, and a single drop of juice forming along side her slightly-gaped entrance.

You drop the phone. You've never seen Jess like this, and you've always wanted to. You get a bunch of texts all at once, some from Jess, some from Jane and some from two other friends, Neil and Blake.