Billionaire Novelist 3 : The Wicked Redhead and the Billionaire Novelist(19)

She ran her hands down my plastic sides, which made me laugh, because I could feel her heat and pressure, but not the texture of her hands. "I feel like a cock," I said.

"Why, are you going to spit up on me?"

"I mean I feel like a c**k inside a condom. This dress feels like a shower curtain."

"Hmm." She squeezed my bu**ocks in her hands and pulled me in for an embrace and another kiss.

A rapping at the door made us pull apart.

"You've tortured us enough," Smith said. "Now come out and play."

This is happening.

In that instant, everything came into sharp focus. My pink lip gloss was on Rochelle's lips, from where I'd kissed her. My body smelled like hot baby powder, which I'd been liberally dusted with before donning the plastic dress. The glamorous bathroom looked like the changing room on a p**n movie set, with lacy things tossed everywhere. My new collection of sex toys stood at attention, along the counter in front of the mirror, like an army of dildos and vibrators, parading along two by two.

I was going to walk through that door and engage in some seriously kinky business, with a friend, and a former lover, in front of the man I was currently working for or dating or some combination. And, for the first time that night, my fear caught up to me and overtook the lust.

"Rochelle, I don't know if I can do this."

She grabbed my hand and gazed into my eyes, her expression soft and comforting. Her eyes weren't blue like mine, but blue-green, like sea glass. Her pale eyelashes were coated in black mascara, too thick for my taste, but the clumps didn't diminish her attractiveness.

"We're just playing," she said. "I figure one day we'll be old, with kids and mortgages, and we'll need to be responsible. No more dress-up in plastic fetish wear. No more messing around or dancing with strangers in bars. Do you think in twenty years, we'll have rock stars pulling us up on stage?"

"Gah! Rochelle! No need to make me depressed."

She smiled. "Don't be. That stage of life has its positives as well. Stability, and, I don't know, book clubs, and high tea." She laughed. "But we're still kids right now. Think of tonight like finger-painting. You get to play games and make a mess. And it feels good."

She traced her fingertip along my jaw line and then down, between my br**sts, dragging down the zipper of my dress, one click at a time.

"Doesn't it?" She arched her thin eyebrows. "Doesn't it feel good?"

I reached around and grabbed her smooth ass with both hands. "You're right. It does."




 

 

"Let's go out there and give your man a real show. Something he'll never forget."

I agreed, and followed her out of the bathroom. We held hands and strutted, both of us with our heads held high as the men admired us.

Todd was patiently waiting on the bed-as patient as a guy could look while tied to a headboard-and Smith looked cool and relaxed like a Gucci ad, sitting on his chair with a drink in one hand. I grabbed the glass of ice and amber fluid from him and sucked it back.

"Liquid courage," I said.

Smith nodded over to the bed and said, "Make me proud, baby."

Rochelle was already on the bed, alternating between kissing Todd and brushing his face with her pendulous br**sts. She still wore the black lace bustier, but had pushed down the lace tops so she was free, na**d and clothed at the same time. She and I were similar in looks and body shape except for that one aspect, and her br**sts were spectacular.

I crawled up along Todd's familiar body. He seemed so much more hairy than I remembered, as his hair was black, so dark compared to Smith's golden fuzz.

"May I?" I said, and I kissed Todd on the mouth. He kissed how I remembered, and a thrill shot down and tickled my pu**y. Rochelle's breast was right there in my face, so I took a sample for myself. As I sucked her nipple, another thrill went through my body, the same as when someone sucked on mine. My tits were still in my plastic dress, though. Interesting, I thought, and I took a bigger mouthful, sucking contentedly on her luscious breast. I closed my eyes and savored the electrical surges running through me.

Someone was touching my panties, their hand pushed up under my short dress, and I didn't dare open my eyes to see who it was.

After a moment, I realized someone was talking-not giving orders in a commanding way, but making suggestions. My mind was muddled from the drinks, the late hour, and the sexual charge.

Smith repeated the request. "Tori, put that c**k in your mouth and suck it."

Ever the obedient cumslut, I shifted down and grabbed Todd's c**k with one hand. He was long and thick, and I knew that part of him well. Licking the tip was like visiting an old friend, if that friend was veiny and purple and trying to cream in your mouth.