Scroll through Hannah’s phone and look for any sexy pictures to text yourself

You pick up Hannah's phone from where it sits atop her discarded shorts. The lock screen shows a photo of Hannah and Brooke at some beach, their faces pressed together, sun-kissed and laughing. You swipe your thumb across it, expecting to encounter a password prompt, but the screen unlocks immediately.

"No password? Amateur move, Hannah," you murmur with her voice, feeling a thrill at how easy this will be.

You open her photo gallery and begin scrolling. The recent photos are mostly softball-related—team shots after games, action photos of her pitching, sweaty group selfies. But as you dig deeper, you find what you're looking for.

A folder simply labeled "B" reveals a treasure trove. Your breath catches in Hannah's throat as you swipe through dozens of increasingly intimate photos exchanged between Hannah and Brooke. Brooke posing in lacey lingerie against dormitory pillows. Hannah's reflection in a gym bathroom mirror, sports bra lifted to expose her breasts. Brooke sprawled naked across rumpled bedsheets, looking up with heavy-lidded eyes.

"Holy shit," you whisper, feeling Hannah's body respond immediately to the images—a warmth spreading between her thighs, her nipples tightening against the fabric of her bra that you've put back on.

You scroll further and find even more explicit content—videos you can't help but play. The sounds of their passionate encounters fill the room before you frantically lower the volume, glancing nervously at the door.

"This is better than I expected," you say to yourself, quickly opening the text messaging app. You find your own contact information in Hannah's phone—you'd exchanged numbers during a group project last month in Psychology class.

You select a dozen of the most revealing photos, including screenshots from the videos showing both women in various states of ecstasy. With trembling fingers, you compose a text to yourself:

"Project research materials as discussed. Delete after use."

You hit send, hearing your own phone chime from the pocket of your sleeping body's jeans across the room. A momentary pang of guilt flashes through you—this is an invasion of their privacy—but it's quickly washed away by the rush of excitement.

As you're about to lock the phone, it buzzes in your hand. A new text from Brooke appears:

"Babe, seriously, where are you? Truth or Dare is getting wild. Tasha just flashed the entire house. You're missing everything! I've been texting for like half an hour!"

You glance at the notifications and see that Brooke has indeed sent several increasingly impatient messages while you were... occupied.

The phone buzzes again: "If you're still at practice, Coach Wilson needs to chill. The championship is weeks away. Also, I have that thing you wanted to try... "

Your curiosity piques. What "thing" is Brooke referring to? The possibilities send another wave of heat through Hannah's borrowed body. You realize you have a perfect opportunity—not just to complete your fraternity task, but to experience pleasure from an entirely new perspective with one of the most desired women on campus.

You stand before the mirror again, admiring Hannah's athletic form. With practiced hands, you unbutton her shirt just enough to reveal the swell of her breasts while keeping it tasteful enough that you won't feel awkward sending it to yourself later.

"Perfect teasing material," you murmur, angling Hannah's phone to capture her best features. You try several poses before settling on one where her auburn hair cascades over one shoulder, her lips slightly parted in a suggestive half-smile, eyes dark with promise.

You examine the photo critically. It's risqué enough to excite Brooke but doesn't reveal too much—the kind of image that makes someone want more. You send it to yourself first, hearing your own phone chime again from across the room. Evidence secured.

Next, you compose a text to Brooke: "Sorry babe, practice ran late. Coach is brutal today. Getting cleaned up now and heading over. Save something wild for me. Here's a preview of what you're waiting for..."

You attach the photo and hit send. Almost immediately, three dots appear as Brooke types her response.

"Holy shit Hannah! In your DORM? What if your roommate walked in? Hurry UP already, I'm dying here!"