“Don’t you like it?” Laurie shifted a leg ever so slightly, just enough to pull the robe’s hem dangerously high.
“Like it? Oh yeah, I like it. I just wasn’t expecting…” He sipped his aperitif.
“Oh, Vincent, are you self-conscious? Do you want to do small talk? Come and sit down.” She patted the arm of the sofa, set at a right angle to her chair.
He took her up on the offer, watching her minutely over the rim of his tumbler. Mark stood at some distance, leaning against the wall units.
“I’m sorry,” said Laurie, batting coquettish eyelashes at her prospective lover. “This is such an unusual setup. I suppose we cope with it in different ways. Mine is to be over the top vamp—it’s a role I like to play. But you need to ease into it. I understand that. So…how was that movie you two went to see?”
“Oh, that. Yeah, it was good, I guess. Not his best work, but it’ll get an Oscar nomination or two. Listen, you look good enough to eat. Can we skip dinner and…?”
Laurie leaned over to him, running one fingertip underneath the robe, crossing her breasts, edging them into a better display. “You don’t want to talk any more?”
“I don’t think I can.”
She laughed and looked over at her husband. “Well, what do you think, Mark? Shall we dispense with the social conventions and just…?”
“Kiss him,” said Mark, his voice harsh, sandpapery.
Laurie and Vincent found themselves standing up at the same time. She stepped easily, effortlessly, into his arms and put her face up to be kissed. Relaxing into his clean warmth, she noticed how the angles of his face differed from Mark’s, which was broader and rounder. Vincent’s nose got in the way more than Mark’s did, and his lips were softer, almost like a girl’s. She reveled in the differences, and behind the physical enjoyment was an intellectual pleasure at being able to finally do this. It felt forbidden, even though it wasn’t, and the back-of-her-mind voice telling her that she was a bad and wicked girl only turned her on more. I’m kissing another man while my husband watches…
Vincent’s tongue snaked into her mouth, and she pressed harder against him, fusing her heat with his, finding that central hardness she craved and grinding into it.
“She wants it all the time.” Mark spoke up unexpectedly, his voice sounding desperate, almost pained. “I give it to her until I’m sore, and she still wants more. It’s like nothing can fill her. I’ve tried everything. Once, I put a vibrator in her for two hours straight, and she still wanted to fuck after I took it out.”
His words drove Laurie into a fit of mindless lust. When Vincent’s hands slipped inside the robe, she gasped into his mouth and pushed her breasts at him, demanding that they be handled. After attending to them, he took a handful of her bottom, squeezing and kneading it, keeping her close and tight.
“Put your fingers inside her,” urged Mark. “She’ll be wet. She’ll be the wettest pussy you’ve ever had.”
Vincent obeyed the instruction, and Laurie moaned as her ever-needful cunt was opened and probed, the slender fingers scissoring inside.
His mouth left hers for a moment.
“You’re right,” he said to Mark. “She’s fucking soaking. Really tight, too.”
“Take off her robe. Get a good look at her.”
“Mark!” Laurie tried to contain the temptation to snap at him. “I’m not a doll. I’m participating in this. Vincent knows what to do, and I know what I want him to do. Okay?”
“Sorry.” Mark was sweating, and he’d had to take off his jacket, gripping it close to his chest like a comfort blanket. “Sorry, Lo. I’m just a bit excited.”
“I know. Sit down. Enjoy the show. You know your turn’s coming anyway.”
She turned back to Vincent, her expression softening. “All the same,” she said. “Not bad advice.”
She put her shoulders back and untied the belt, letting the robe fall open and enjoying the play of shadows and light on Vincent’s face as he took in the sight.
“You’re fucking gorgeous,” he breathed. “Exactly the way I’ve always imagined you. Except this…” He put reverent fingers to the tiny, jeweled ring in her navel. “I didn’t know about this.”
“Do you like it?”
“I like it all.” He freed the robe, letting it fall down her arms as if it had a will of its own. She stood perfectly naked and unashamed before him.
He put a hand on her hip, nudging her toward the sofa.
“Sit down,” he said, “and spread your legs. I want a good look at you.”
Chapter Two