You watch as he enters, sheepishly, as if embarrassed by the knowledge that both of you know his secret, embarrassed by what he’s agreed to, by what he’s said he wants. Already, you are curious – not just about his body, although that will be nice to see, at last – but about his reaction, how he’ll be, when you have him at his weakest. He’s strong, but there’s a latent weakness there, something interesting something – you can’t wait to find out about.
She – the other girl – looks him up and down; the first meeting, you see approval in her eyes, but the same curiosity as yours, the curiosity of what happens now, of who does what first, of how does it start?
There’s a moment’s pause, and for a long second, it’s the three of you, in the room with its couch, and its windows with the blinds drawn but the midday sun shining through, and the TV still blaring, although it seems quieter now in the silence before.
And then you laugh, almost giggling, and you reach down under your skirt and pull your underwear from your hips, shimmying your legs so it falls down along them, past your knees and onto the floor. And you look up, with a newfound confidence, having taken control of the situation, and smile.
“Your turn.” You say, and nod at the boy expectantly.
“My underwear?” He asks, his voice still half-swallowed, and you smile again. “No, you idiot.” You say. “Fucking all of it.”
I stand in the room in front of the two women, grateful that the silence has been broken, but all the same my arms feel like lead and my heart is pounding in my ears. I want this, I remind myself, I drove myself here, forty minutes on paper but more like seventy with traffic, and every inch of every mile I wanted this. And then the other woman laughs, and shakes her head.
“Hurry up.” She said. “I’ve seen this part.”
My hands shake just a little as I hook my fingers under the band of my shorts and boxers, and then my thumbs slide down, along my skin, pulling off my shorts and boxers, all the way to the floor. I step out of them without meeting her eyes or yours, feeling my cock grow so damn hard, sticking straight out ponderously in front of me.
I kick off my shoes and slip off my socks and then, the hard part over, I throw my shirt carelessly over my head, dropping it on the floor. And finally, naked from head to toe, I look up at the two of you, and find you looking me over carefully, and only grow harder, and more excited.
And then I turn, with a slight flourish, brazenly mocking your gazes, shaking my ass before your eyes.
“What now?” I ask. “What do you want from me?”
He’s a cocky fuck, she thinks, I’ll give him that. Not too bad on that cock either. But this – showing off – that’s no good. That’s not going to fly.
“Shut up.” She says, pointedly, and steps forward, confidently, towards him. “You need us more than we need you.” She reaches out to his chest with one finger, trailing it down his stomach, down, down, just avoiding his cock, keeping her eyes fixed on his. “I can see a cock anytime I feel like it. So if you want something to happen, you better do exactly as I – ” She glances at you with a quick, apologetic look – “as we say. You understand?”
“Yes.” She pinches him pointedly, sharply, without a hint of flirtation. “No, fuck that. For today, you can say yes ma’am, while you’re at it.”
“Yes ma’am.” He answers, and you’re amazed at how quickly she’s taken command.
“Better.” She answers, and smiles, stepping behind him, still eyeing him, looking his body up and down. “Now your friend and I want to know just what a man is good for. And you – you’re going to show us.”
“Yes ma’am.” He answers, again, with more confidence, a grin building on his face.
“Excellent. Susan?” She says, and turns to you.
You stay where you are, the thrill of power now in your throat. The boy will do what you ask, anything you ask, and you know it.
“Here, boy.” You say, and step backwards, sitting down on the couch, letting your skirt play up along your thighs. He steps towards you readily, towering over you as he stands. “Not there.” You say, reaching out to his waist and pulling down. “There. On your knees.”
He obeys, falling to his knees so that his eyes are level with your heaving tits. And you smile again. “Now.” You say, and you open your legs, feeling the thrill go through you as the air rushes along your skin. “Watch.”
And you begin, your finger trailing up your thigh, flitting over your lips and clit, and you watch his eyes as he watches you. He moves forward instinctively, staring obediently as your hand speeds up.
“No,” You say, changing your mind. “Closer.”
And you pull him closer with your free hand, closer and closer, until he’s barely a hand’s breadth away. “And touch yourself.” You command. And you start again, with your free hand…