[enfenfenfenfenf]

Back when I was in uni, my friend and I were heading to the annual ball together. She's the same platonic friend I've posted about here before (very sporty, nice tight body, long dirty blonde hair, small breasts, sculpted ass). I think it was the end of our first year, so both about 19. We had been drinking beforehand together. We get on the private bus that takes the students from the university to the hotel.

She had brought a small bottle of vodka to sneak in. Standard practice here is for the girls to tape these small bottles to their thighs, under their ballgowns. They won't get searched. (It's not an underage drinking issue, since the drinking age is 18 here, it's just much cheaper than buying shots at the bar.)

So, I was sitting next to her on the bus. She's wearing a long slinky black dress, low cut and with slit up to the thigh on one side. Already a bit drunk, so without inhibitions, she hikes up the front of her dress, almost to the crotch. I can't see her panties, but it's so close. Her thighs are so smooth. She holds the bottle in place at her inner thigh and asks me to do the taping. Obviously I oblige. I get to fondle her thigh under the auspices of holding it steady as I wrap the tape around. Something about her presenting the inner part of her thigh to me made it so much hotter for me.

I then got a bit cocky and I “steady” the bottle, pushing it upwards slightly. I know what I'm intending to happen, and it does. The neck of the bottle pushes into her panties slightly, directly between her legs. I hear a sharp intake of breath and she whispers my name abruptly, meaning "Hey!". I pretend not to have noticed and finish wrapping the tape.

...

Later at the ball together, it's well into the night, after the meal, after most of the dancing. We're both tired-drunk.
We're the only two sat at our dinner table, everyone else is getting in the last of their dancing. My arm is around her shoulder as we're chatting, both just slumped back in our chairs.

The chatting lulls. We're just sitting together in silence now, watching the dance floor. I slowly start giving her a one-handed neck rub. Nothing serious, I just change my hand on her shoulder from a static one to a slightly mobile one. It really started just like a friendly squeeze of the shoulder then back of the neck. She seems to like it, but says nothing, so I carry on.

Then, as usual, I start to push my luck. I move my hand forward. It's my left hand, on her left shoulder, and I'm sitting to her right, so my arm is basically drap*d over her. I'm now starting to drap*d it around that bit more. I go from rubbing her left shoulder to the top of her chest, around her clavicle. She still says nothing. I keep going, now, slowly reaching that imperceptible point where "not-breast" very much in my mind starts to become "sort-of-the-top-of-her-breast". It's very exciting for me to see how far I can take it, especially in this public setting.

Eventually my fingertips are inching inside the front of her dress, and I no longer have any doubt that what I'm massaging is her breast. I use the massaging motion to pull her breast upwards slightly with each rub inside her dress (it was very clear she didn't have a bra on), and in doing so get purchase slightly lower down. I have to stress how gradually this all went. I can’t believe she’s not noticed. Equally I can’t believe she’s straight up into it. At this point my fingertips are full-on rubbing her tit now, just shy of nipple...

And then a classmate comes back to table from dancing and we both snap out of it immediately. Damn him.

This is one of those prime low-key examples. We’re both drunk, but I know that I know what I’m doing. Surely she knows what I’m doing too and is going along with it. That drives me wild.