“It’s not a test,” Trigger calls out, talking to Olivia but really talking to Pete.
I can tell he wants this portion of the discussion to be over. We are almost there. What is the sense in making things difficult?
“Just one more test,” Pete says, maddeningly.
She cocks her head to the side and sticks her chin out in defiance.
“All right, what is it?”
“I don’t want you to be offended,” he begins, “and I don’t want you to be… in over your head. You know what I mean? The three of us… We are not high-school boys.”
“That is what I like about you,” she shrugs and then sticks her hands in her pockets, looking up at him with her head tilted.
Pete gets all serious, looking like a stern father telling his daughter what she can and can’t do. Somehow, that is not creepy at all. With her bratty little attitude, I kind of think she likes it.
“Taking one of us would be a challenge,” he continues. “Taking all three of us is going to be… fucking impossible.”
“I don’t think so,” she shrugs.
“I think it might be,” he insists.
She stops to roll her eyes dramatically. With a stubborn set to her jaw, she plants her feet and twists at the tie of her dress, loosening the sash and then pulling it off her body so that it just falls to the floor underneath her perfect little feet. She stands there, completely naked, bathed in an angelic glow from the wide-open windows.
“Why don’t we find out?” she challenges him, then struts off to the bedroom, her ass cheeks jiggling magnificently the whole way.
Chapter 9
PETE
She takes off her dress and struts into the bedroom, and we all follow her like dedicated servants. I made sure to give her every chance to walk away. Every chance to make it known that she didn’t really understand what we were talking about, that she couldn’t possibly be agreeing to what we were offering. But I think I underestimated her.
Apparently she is the one in control after all.
Her spine is like a cobra, swaying back and forth as she walks. Above her ass are two identical dimples, so delicious I want to drop a piece of candy in each one and then eat it off of her. She is thick and gorgeous, strong and feminine.
Trigger takes his clothes off as he walks, dropping his shirt and then trousers eagerly with each step. I take my time, draping my shirt over the back of a chair next to a desk that sits by the window, unclipping the clasp of my watch and setting it on the table. When she reaches the bed, she pushes up onto her toes to twirl around and then daintily places her bottom against the bedspread, tapping her toes lightly on the floor.
The time for backing out is over. I gave her every chance. Now I am so hungry for her, I am not sure I could stop.
Her tits are beautiful, milky and drooping only slightly over the sides of her rib cage to overlap her arms. Her waist is a subtle indentation before her body blooms outward again into luscious, generous hips. Those plush thighs barely conceal the fawn-colored tuft of pubic hair that disappears between her legs.
But when she stops pressing her knees closed, I get a glimpse of just a little bit more. Biting her lip, she slowly opens her legs, and all three of us watch as the flesh gradually separates. The tawny triangle of pubic hair barely covers a sweet, modest indentation. As her thighs open, the lips begin to pull apart, and I catch a glimpse of the moist, delicate inner petals, just beginning to unfurl.
She knows she has us completely in her power. Inch by inch, she opens her knees and we stand here like victims of some kind of sorcery. I can’t stop looking at her sweet pussy blooming in front of me. It spreads outward, and I feel like I can see the moisture spreading, see her arousal heightening. The frilly edges of her secret lips just peek out, beckoning like sea anemones.
“You first?” she says sweetly to Trigger.
He steps forward obediently, then glances over his shoulder at me for permission. I give him a curt nod. Though I want to be first, I also want to be last.
That is all the permission Trigger needs. He practically eclipses her, almost twice her size, yet he is so delicate with her. He looms over, folding himself over the end of the bed as she scootches back slightly, her face eager and wanting.
Her knees fall open, but it is not quite enough. The fact is, Trigger is huge everywhere. His cock is like a soup can. Two soup cans, stood end to end. If she can make it through this, she can make it through anything.