Ellen's face was the deepest shade of red you had ever seen. Her eyes held that "deer-in-the-headlights" look. Her hands were clasped over her mouth.
Through her hands she whispered, "She always uses my stuff."
You can't help but grin, the idea of Ellen fucking herself silly with this monster of a pink dildo greatly amuses and excites you. "She didn't say it was yours," you point out, trying not to laugh.
Her eyes suddenly got larger, even though you were sure it wouldn't have been possible. She just admitted to owning the dildo. Amy had tricked her into revealing herself.
She is obviously mortified by your discovery. You don't want her to be in a depression all weekend so you decide to make light of the situation. "How often?" you ask.
"Huh?"
"How often do you use this?" you ask, presenting the dildo.
She blushes even deeper and mutters something you can't hear.
"What was that?"
She doesn't respond.
"Come on Ellen. What are you so embarrassed about?"
Her blush fades. You and she have been friends for years. What did she have to be embarrassed about? “Umm, well, not… not too often.”
You raise an eyebrow.
She swallows, “Five times a week? Maybe six.” She blushes again.
You eyebrows try to go into orbit. Six times a week? She fucks herself almost every single day?!?
“Wow,” is all you manage to get out, though something else is trying desperately to get out now.
Ellen’s eyes flicker over your throbbing bulge and she dissolves into hysterical laughter.
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