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“I guess the cookies happened, after all?” I remark.

She turns to face me, drawing in her breath expectantly and smiling with a little bit of a shyness that I like very much.

“Stephan, right?” she asks.

“That’s right,” I confirm.

I like hearing my name in her voice. I wouldn’t mind hearing her say it up close, maybe right in my ear, maybe with her breath tickling my earlobe.

“Oh, yes, they sure did. I had to go to the store to get more butter,” she confesses. “But it all worked out. Do you like cookies?”

She looks around at all three of us, twisting her fingers together nervously. She rolls her feet against the floor, stretching her ankles. I notice she has a thin gold band around her second toe, and that sexy little detail makes my balls clench as I imagine coming right on her perfect little feet.

“What a stupid question!” she laughs suddenly, bringing me back to reality. “I made cookies… Everyone likes cookies. Please have some! Go ahead!”

Of course Pete isn’t going to admit he wants them, but Trigger is all over it. With a big, goofy grin, he covers the diagonal of the living room in three steps, eager to get his hands on what she baked. He pops two in his mouth immediately and then turns around, chewing and grinning.

“These are amazing,” he announces through a mouthful of crumbs.

She pins her pinky finger between her teeth. I can tell she is loving this. As she sways from foot to foot she jerks her chin toward me and then indicates with her eyes that I should have some too. This seems to be turning her on, so how could I say no?

She watches my every move as I cross the floor, her eyes growing intense and hungry. I notice Pete is watching her carefully too. His sarcasm seems to be evaporating as he gets on board with what is happening here. The energy that seems to be gathering.

“So, Olivia,” he starts, “we just wanted to check in on you.”

“I’m so glad you did,” she smiles. She’s breathing quickly, her tits heaving underneath that thin dress. I can almost see her nipples poking little nubs in the soft fabric.“You guys have been… on my mind. All day.” She looks down at the hardwood then quickly looks up again, her gaze flicking between the three of us.

But goddamn Pete just can’t help himself. Here he goes again, trying to talk her out of what she simultaneously seems to be trying to talk us into. Can’t the guy take a hint?

“We don’t want to intrude,” he continues stubbornly. Like an old stubborn fool.

“Oh, you’re not intruding!” she objects.

This cookie is fucking delicious, but I am having a hard time enjoying it. Why does he have to be like this?

“All right, let’s just talk about this,” I interrupt.

Obviously I fucking need to take charge, before Pete blows us all out of the water.

Her eyes settle on me again, bright with excitement. It’s actually kind of distracting to look at. But I have to take this seriously before I get to ripping her clothes off.

“You know why we’re really here, don’t you?” I ask her. “It’s not just for cookies.”

She lowers her chin and nods tightly.

“And that’s okay with you?”

She nods again.

“Just to be clear,” I say, loud enough that everybody hears it at the same time, “you’re okay with… all of us? All three of us? With you?”

She nods again. She’s breathing so heavily that her collar opens wider with each heave of those glorious, round tits.

“Olivia,” Pete starts, his voice sounding like a warning.

She twirls toward him, standing up onto her bare toes. Her little pink feet are so tender and delicate-looking, I have got to get her toes in my mouth.

“I get it, okay?” she answers quickly. “Any more questions you want to ask me?”

“I think we are good here,” Trigger announces, his mouth still stuffed with cookies. He wipes the corners of his mouth in an almost delicate way.

She pivots to face him, smiling fondly. I already get the feeling that he might be her favorite. I’m going to have to work extra hard to make sure I keep up.

“I still think we should take it slow,” Pete cautions her.

“Pete…” I start, frustrated.

“I completely disagree!” she cuts him off, snapping her fingers in the air.

“Excuse me?” he asks, his voice sounding a little bit rude.

She casts her weight to one side, perching her hands on her ample hips. I can see the lines of her panties under the thin fabric. I imagine sliding a finger under the elastic, stretching it to the side.

“Listen, you made yourself very clear, okay?” she answers back, all sassy and self-assured. “I think I made myself very clear too, right? You asked the question. I answered it. Did I pass the test?”


Tags: Jess Bentley Erotic