Seductive Stoners

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I got off work promptly at 5 o’clock and texted Liv the second I got out to the parking lot. I quickly typed “hey bud, ima go grab and be home by sixish” on my Blackberry before hopping into my Volvo and heading downtown. A friend of a friend had gotten some pineapple kush, and I was so excited by the promise of a hooked up sack for the weekend. Olivia is my best friend in the entire world. She and I are what NBC’s The Today Show reports as “stiletto stoners”. We’re both young, successful, professional women who happen to smoke weed. Some people like to unwind at the end of a long day or week with a nice glass of cabernet sauvignon; we like to burn one down. We’re both extremely passionate people, so we work hard and play hard. We had met in undergrad and connected instantly; both philosophy majors, we shared the same plans for law school – because what else can you do with a philosophy degree? As best friends and roommates, we have experienced a lot of our lives together. We’ve spent countless hours writing papers and studying for exams with each other, and those nights were usually coupled with late night blunt cruises and munchies trips. We survived fours year of undergrad, three brutal years of law school, and now we’re in our first year of work as attorneys – different firms but both in the metropolis. She likes to say they should make a show out of our lives called Stoned in the City. I drove about twenty minutes to our friend’s house to get the kush. He came out to my car, told me I was going to love the stuff, and told me to have a good weekend. I couldn’t wait to get back home. I walked into the condo so ready to chill for the weekend and just finally bahis şirketleri unwind. I was greeted by the sound of mock rapping in the living room: “Bitch, you know what I want! hahaha… I wanna talk to Samson! Fly me to the moon…” “Really? This movie again?” I laughed. “Sometimes I just wanna throw it all down and GET LIFTED! Haha Are you ready to get lifted, girl?” Olivia was just as ready for the weekend as I was. “Yeah, this week has been too crazy. Because working 60 hours last week wasn’t enough, he gives me enough work to keep me there for 70 this week. Are you sure this is what we signed up for?” I asked as I went to change out of my work clothes into jeans and a cami. “We’re livin’ the dream, my dear,” she said with a cheesy fake grin. “So I went and got that dank – like Thurgood Jenkins says, ‘it smells like the bomb’ so let’s get this going. Got blunt?” “Got weed?” We laughed and I sat down to roll it up. This is how it is between us. Fairly removed from the whole stereotypical “pothead” culture, we find it somewhat rebellious and definitely hilarious to sort of immerse ourselves into that culture. Quoting Half Baked and How High? are just part of it; when we smoke, we jam out to Ben Harper, Bob Marley, and Phish. We watch trashy reality television and smash on anything other than the salads we eat all week long. We both can, and do, discuss issues ranging from classical Greek literature to contemporary global politics to modern art. But when it’s just me, Liv, and Mary Jane, we can be however we want or however we are. We talk about intelligent and not-so-intelligent stuff, watch interesting and not-so-interesting stuff, and we just enjoy bahis firmaları life. “Ooh, I’m about to smoke an L with L-ivia,” I joked as she cracked the Philly and handed it to me. I quickly rolled us a fat one and started to blaze it up. She opened the window and lit the incense – part of the routine that we knew so well. There is no rule of “puff puff pass” between us; chiefing is allowed, even encouraged. This is our time to just hang out and catch up on our own relaxed schedule. After it was burning well, I took a big hit and inhaled deeply, holding it in while I passed it to her. We smoked and just chatted while the movie was going. “Half Baked is so classic, but I really want to listen to some music. I’m definitely craving some Eminem Recovery right about now.” Olivia handed me the blunt and jumped up to go put the music in. I sat there in the middle of our living room, smoking weed with my best friend – and I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. This was the first time I ever noticed how attractive she is. I always knew she was a pretty girl; we were both cute and each had our fair share of guys hitting on us when we went out. But I never thought of her as just plain damn sexy – she was just Liv. Seeing her now was completely different. She was several inches taller than me at 5’8”, and slender with just the right curvy proportion of breasts and hips. Her wavy brown locks ran past her shoulders and contrasted sharply with the tight blue tank top she had changed into. The top and shorts revealed her glorious olive skin, perfectly golden tan to show her toned arms and calves. She was often complimented on her ass, and indeed it was amazing. Beautifully kaçak bahis siteleri round, tight and firm, it was obvious that she looked amazing from behind. But what surprisingly impressed me the most were her breasts. As she started to turn around, I noticed how very perfect they were. I knew she was a full C cup, and they looked perfectly sized and perky to fit the rest of her sexy, curvy figure. I couldn’t help but think that they were the perfect size for me to hold. And touch. And kiss. And lick. And suck. I was still admiring when she turned around and looked at me. “Wow, you look baked, girl. You’re totally zoned out.” For some reason, I thought that was the funniest thing I’ve ever heard, and I immediately burst out laughing. “haha You’re geeking out! Share the love, girl,” she said, and I handed her it to her between giggles. We laughed and smoked, completely care free, until we finished our blunt. Then we sat listening to the music for a while and I heard Eminem sing, “Seduction… Seduce…” which made me crack up all over again. “You’re outrageous with the laughter tonight! What’s so funny?” Liv asked me. “Oh man, it’s too crazy. I just got to thinking and it was nuts.” “I wanna hear though – I always like to hear what you’re thinking. And if it’s something crazy for us to do, you know I’m all for it!” “Well,” I said, “it’s nothing like that. I was just sitting here smoking and when you got up, you looked fantastic. I was like ‘Damn – that girl’s sexy!’ And it just made me laugh because I couldn’t believe I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I was completely turned on. Your body just looks amazing.” “Really? Well thanks, I do what I can,” she pretended to brag. “No, really though, that’s seriously flattering. A sexy ass girl telling me she was fantasizing about me… that’s hot.” “Yeah… I’m so not sexy though! Cute, maybe, but sexy? Most definitely not.” I was convinced I was right.

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