Near your female friend's house.

[Written with AI assistance.]

John clutched the cheetah print panties in one hand and the borrowed purse in the other as he strolled up the cracked sidewalk to his friend Lacey's duplex. The late afternoon sun baked the pavement, making his bare feet slap against the heat with every step. He didn’t bother knocking—Lacey never locked her door—and pushed inside, the air conditioning prickling his sweat-damp skin.

"Lace?" he called out, already eyeing the pile of throw pillows scattered across her couch.

"In the kitchen!" she yelled back.

John grinned, tossing the purse onto a sofa and immediately grabbing the nearest pillow—a plush, velvety thing with tassels on the corners. He pressed it between his thighs, rubbing himself against the fabric, already half-hard again.

"You mind if I fuck your bed?" he asked casually, as if inquiring about borrowing a cup of sugar.

Lacey poked her head out from the kitchen, chewing on a celery stick. "Knock yourself out," she said, shrugging. "But please don’t cum on the blue pillow. It’s my favorite."

John loved hearing her say "please" as if he had every right to do so and all she could do was request him not to.

John nodded solemnly, and walked over to her bedroom. He jumped onto her bed and began humping it. He had no idea what he was fucking - the pillows, the mattress, the duvet - they all smelled either clean or like Lacey - John was in heaven.
Suddenly, an idea struck him. Fighting all his urges, he got himself out from under the duvet and literally jumped over to her wardrobe and opened it. Inside were here clothes - her t-shirts, shirts, blouses, bras, panties, pants, shorts, skirts, you name it. John wondered whether he had ever owned so many clothes in his life.

Quickly, he undressed and began dressing up for the event, his cock going slightly limb. He first put on her cup-bra over his bare skin but it was too itchy. So he tried her sling bikini bra but that was too flimsy like just a piece of Bible-paper. Next he tried her sports bra - it fit perfectly, like Goldilocks. Over that, he put on one of her crop-top t-shirts. Content, he went on to put on her black laced underwear but it had no room to take his cock out from so he opted for her string bikini bottoms.
Walking over to her and made her take off her shorts and put it to his nose. It smelt like Heav'n. He quickly put it on and was getting hard again. Finally he put on her old school-uniform skirt and jumped back onto her bed.

He hooked his fingers into the pillowcase, yanking it off in one smooth motion. The bare pillow was firmer than he expected, and he wasted no time shoving his cock between the folds of fabric, thrusting into the dense cushion with a groan. The friction was perfect—rough enough to make his hips jerk, but soft enough that he could grind against it without chafing.

Wrapped in her clothes and the duvet, he glanced over at Lacey, who was now leaning against the doorway, watching with mild interest as she crunched on her snack.

"You gonna help or just stare?" he panted, gripping the stack of side-pillows tighter.

Lacey smirked. "Nah, I’m good. But if you wanna wreck my laundry hamper next, be my guest."

John’s eyes flicked toward the hallway where her bathroom was. "Oh fuck yes," he muttered, already imagining the tangled mess of worn bras, cotton panties, and rumpled T-shirts. He came with a shudder, hips stuttering against the pillow, then tossed it aside, leaving it damp and indented.

"Laundry time," he announced, strutting toward her room like a man on a mission.

Lacey just sighed and took another bite of celery. "Weirdo."

But she didn’t stop him.

Nobody ever did.