“You like it,” Lia breathed. “Oh, god, girl. You like it.”
I did. There was no denying. Vincent pounded into me, and I cried out. Lia moved to the side of our bodies, and she slid a hand under me, so that each time I ground my hips forward, I was grinding against her knuckles. When Vincent came, emptying himself into me, I came, too. Hard. On Lia’s hand.
Then I collapsed, tied to his bed, demolished by my two roommates. Lia undid the bindings. Vincent undressed me and wrapped me up in one of his sheets. We all lay there on the bed, stunned and pleased—but far from finished.
“You ought to punish Lia next,” I said to Vincent as he threw his arm around me.
“Why?”
I gazed at my roommate. “She’s wearing my shoes.”
TRICKS
Lola Olson
The dress was far too short for me. I knew that well. The hem rode up my thigh every four or five steps I took. I tried to walk slowly, balancing dangerously on the tall heels on my feet. It was obvious to anyone looking that I had no idea what on earth I was doing in them and how I managed to make more than five steps easily was anybody’s guess.
I bundled myself as best I could in the small jacket that barely covered my chest. The red dress was as busty as it was short, and a small blush surfaced on my cheeks when I realized anyone watching could see glimpses of my cleavage as easily as they could my fishnet stockings. Keeping my pace steady, I walked through the brisk air toward the street corner where I knew he would be. Short brown hair and blue eyes, my friend had told me. She wouldn’t tell how she found him or where she met him, but when I told her what I was looking for, she assured me he was it.
When I reached the right block, my stomach sank. He wasn’t there. The spot was empty. All of this preparation, my overdramatic makeup, these wretched heels, the risk I ran to walk up and down the street looking like this…everything I had done for nothing. Tilting on my heel and nearly falling over for the fifteenth time, I spotted a figure in an alleyway highlighted by a small red cigarette spark.
My heartbeat raced when I saw a flicker of red light fall to the ground. Summoning the best of my courage, I opened my jacket and walked toward the spark as sexily as I could muster. Smelling his cologne as I stepped closer, I heard my voice tremble when I said, “Hello, Officer.”
His cigarette fell to the street and he stepped forward in the light. He was exactly as she described him, but better. He tilted his black hat at me, revealing some of his brown hair. His eyes twinkled at me as he smiled. “Can I help you, Madame?”
I wondered if he could see my face turn red as goose bumps peppered my cleavage. I couldn’t decide if I wanted him to or not. Grabbing at courage from somewhere I couldn’t fathom, I stuck my chest out farther and winked at him. “I was wondering if I could help you actually, Officer.” Hearing the words coming out of my mouth heated my cheeks. They felt as ridiculous as they sounded.
“I’m not sure what you’re implying, Madame.”
“What I mean to say is,” I began, dropping my short jacket on the ground, “I would be glad to help you.” I slid my hands over his vest, pushing my knee in between his legs, “for the right price of course.”
He pulled away quickly, looking at me with widened eyes, a reaction I expected. I could tell by the folded lines on his brow that whatever he was feeling was a mixture of disgust, shock and something I could and would definitely enjoy putting my finger on.
“Madame, you’re operating under some huge misconceptions,” he said.
“Am I?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said firmly.
“That’s not what I heard,” I said, overcoming my fear slowly but surely. The more I was playing the part, the more I felt it.
“Is that a fact?”
“It is. I heard you got around with lots of us. I heard you were known for that, actually,” I said.
He grabbed me suddenly, pulling me away from where the alley opened into the street and back into the dark, shoving me against the wall, bricks scraping my skin slightly. He held me by my forearms against the wall, anger coloring his cheeks.
“You heard wrong,” he said, an edge coating his voice.
“Did I?” I said, trying to seem unfazed by the sudden force of the exchange. The waver of my voice and the heat building beneath my skirt hinted that I was very, very fazed.
“Yes,” he said, tightening his grip. “I’m an upstanding man of the law.”
A thought scurried through my mind and made me smile and I knew the perfect thing to say.
“What are you laughing at?” he said threateningly.
“Well,” I began, giving him my best smile, “I heard you were upstanding but…in quite the different way.” I started to laugh a little when his eyebrows furrowed. He yanked me from the wall, pulled my wrists to my lower back and pushed me down the alleyway. The cool air rushed past my legs as I walked through the darkness until I felt a roughness on my thighs near my knees that felt like corduroy fabric. He shoved me down face-first into a cushy pillow covered by it. I realized as I heard the clank of metal that he had me bent over the arm of some two-seated sofa…a bad smelling two-seated sofa.