She can!

Emi, tired, sore, and dirty, decided that she really only needed two things: To masturbate and to take a shower. She didn't care which order she did them in. She quickly jogged across the empty street that separated her apartment from the park entrance.

When she entered the main hall of the complex, she was met with a shocking sight. Laid out on the ground, inches from their front door, and spread-eagled, was Layla. The paint on her body had fully begun to drip and fade, carried away by a pool of sweat and other fluids. She looked like she was peacefully asleep, but her pussy was a bright red as though it had been rubbed with an insane amount of vigor. The carpet beneath her was stained in a trail that extended from between Layla's legs and made their way damn near the opposite wall.

Emi really wished she had her phone with her. This would be, like, premium wallpaper material. Also great as mock blackmail.

But why was Layla lying out in the hall where anyone could see her? Why hadn't she...

Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no! Emi didn't have her phone. She didn't have her dress, and MOST importantly, she didn't have the key to the apartment. She dropped to her knees, now realizing how utterly fucked she and Layla were.

She looked over at her snoozing bestie's face and felt a sudden pang of frustration and rage. It wasn't Layla's fault; she knew that, but she couldn't stand that she looked at peace. Emi scooted over and then straddled her naked friend's curvy body. Reaching down, with each hand she grabbed a nipple and gave em a quick twist.

"Layla! Wake up! We are FUCKED!"