She’d ordered me to leave my sweater on, said she would decide when she wanted to see my boobs, but had told me to take off everything below the waist before she tied me to the dining room chair.
Henrietta’s thoughts often turned to what her best friend might look like with her clothes torn off and tossed into the grass.
When she leaned forward, I expected a few kind words followed by excuses to leave. But instead she tilted her head and placed her lips lightly upon mine.
I blushed and averted my eyes, but felt my nipples peak under her gaze. “Thank you,” I mumbled.
Cam ran her fingers along my skin and kissed the flesh at my thighs.
As their mouths opened to each other, he caught the scent of sex still lingering on his lover’s skin, mixed with a dark cologne of midnight and exotic heat.
I brushed his toned abs with a finger, watching the way the afternoon sun through the Venetian blind chopped his body: light, dark, light, dark.