And Avery got to go.
“That was for their concert last year. It was an awesome show, but then the Chilies are an awesome band,” she says.
“Sure are,” I say, and toss the tickets back on the shelf.
I turn my attention to the clothing rack. All sorts of lingerie are packed onto it. Slutty stuff, cutesy stuff. Lots of stuff I want her to put on for me of both types. She could do a fashion show for me right here.
I don’t ask why she has all this stuff since I already know the answer, and I don’t want her to know I know. She doesn’t volunteer anything either.
“You should wear this for me next time,” I say, holding up a hanger with a blue satin corset on it. There are no bra cups on it, so I could watch her tits bounce and swing as she rode me. Plus it’s blue, her best color. “Yeah, definitely wear this.”
I continue riffling through it, looking for other things I want her to wear most. Avery appears at my side, in front of the shelf. She reaches into a box and pulls something out.
“Only if you wear this,” she says, holding up a yellow thing.
“What’s that?”
Avery spreads it between her fingers, and the shape of a giraffe becomes clear.
“A banana hammock. You put your dick in the neck, and when it’s hard, the giraffe’s neck stands tall,” she says, trying not to laugh.
“No fucking chance,” I say, laughing.
She lets her laugh out, and I turn into her, pulling her against me, both of us still laughing.
Avery
It’s freaking me out, having Knox in my fake bedroom, looking at my crazy shelves and rack of lingerie that companies sent me to pimp. God knows what’s going through his head. He must think I’m a weirdo, but at least he isn’t asking questions.
I grab my phone, and send my Chilies playlist to the wireless speaker.
“Nice,” Knox says as “Under the Bridge” starts. He takes my hand, and says, “Dance with me.”
I laugh, and say, “Okay, wait, I need clothes on.”
“No way.”
“Yes, I can’t hang around naked.”
“Choose from those,” he says, pointing to the rack.
“Fine,” I say, raising my eyebrow. I pull the blue full satin panties off a hanger and pull them on, followed with the matching bra.
“What about me?” Knox asks.
I burst out laughing, grab the giraffe and toss it at him.
He chuckles, grabs his boxers out of his jeans, and puts them on.
The song is half over, but Knox pulls me close to him and we sway to the music. I lean into him, and follow his body as he moves. I run my hands over his broad back, still amazed at how hard his body is.
“Take Me to the Other Side” comes on, and we continue dancing and laughing. Knox takes my hand and twirls me, pulls me back and dips me before we’re laughing too hard to continue our crazy dance.
I sink back against his body, and we continue our slow dance, through “Californication” and the rest of the playlist. Even though we’re barely moving, my heart races.
Relaxed, I pull the giant, supposedly unbreakable feather off the shelf and tickle him with it.
Knox smirks, grabs my wrist and wraps his other arm behind me, reaching all the way to the fleshy bit under my ribs. His hand closes on the fleshy bit, and my body contorts as I laugh.
“Stop it,” I say, my voice high pitched from laughing.
“You’re crazy.”
He holds me easily in one hand while his eyes search over the shelves. He laughs when he sees the book called Every Physically Possible Sex Position. Pulling it from the shelf, he lets go of me and flips through the pages.
Each page is illustrated with a bland cgi couple, contorted in all sorts of positions that I don’t believe are physically possible. It’s a thin book, only a hundred pages or so.
“This should keep us busy,” he says, chuckling.
“I don’t think most of those are possible. And a lot look painful.”
“We’ve done most of the rest already tonight,” he says, and drops the book on the floor.
I haven’t done the vlog on it yet, and crouch to pick it up to keep it from getting damaged. After smoothing the cover down, I set it back on the shelf.
Knox picks up an oversized pink dildo. It’s rubbery and wobbles as he moves it. His face screws up as he watches it, and he drops it back on the shelf. He moves on to white chocolate powder, body jewelry, and a neon cock ring, examining each in turn.
“Are you going to go through it all?” I ask.
“You’ve got a lot of crazy shit here, but you know what I’ve been dying to do to you?”
“What?” I ask hesitantly.
“Shave your pussy,” he says, his eyes boring into mine.