Double the Pussy, Double the Fun

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“I am so sorry, I can’t do this anymore. You’re great…it was great…but I found someone else.”

I squint my eyes in the dark, and read the text over and over. My boyfriend Brian, of ten months, has ended our relationship…through a text message. I’ve been lying in my queen-sized bed all day since he sent it this morning, trying to understand, and trying not to cry. I’m great? I can’t be that great if he could so easily drop me for someone else! I feel so disposable. I gave him everything. I even moved into the world’s tiniest apartment in Manhattan from Connecticut to be closer to him while he’s in Grad School. Tossing my iPhone to the foot of my bed, I grab my pillow out from under my head and cover my face with it. I let out a frustrated moan and try to stifle tears. I hate him. I FUCKING HATE HIM. But then why do I miss him so bad already?

There is a knock on my bedroom door.

“I hope you’re awake lazy ass, we’re leaving in an hour.” My infectiously sweet and sympathetic roommate Jaime says, her voice muffled through the door.

“What…where are we going?” I ask, my face still under my pillow.

“Out. Stop mopping around about Brian. His loss, take a shower and get dressed. I am taking you out.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I say softly, but Jaime has supersonic hearing apparently and comes bounding into my room.

“Get the fuck up, crazy. Your lights have been off in here since nine in the morning. It is now nine AT NIGHT. You realize you haven’t even gone to the bathroom all day. Why are you upset about this? He’s obviously a total dick rag. We are going out tonight! It’s a Saturday in July, we live in New York City and we are young! Let’s goooo!” Jaime whips the pillow off my face and starts hitting me with it. I can’t help but laugh. Her tough love works on me.

“Okay asshole, I’m up. Where are we going?” I ask, as I slip out of my bed and flick on the lights. My sardine-can sized room looks like a bomb went off in it. Jaime navigates around clothing, soda cans and books to the other side of my bed to my bureau and opens it.

“I’m not gonna tell you where, but wear this. You need to look hot tonight.” She lays a red satin halter-top I have had for a while, but never worn, on my bed, as well as my tightest pair of dark blue jeans, and a pair of black pumps. She stands in the doorway and bites her lip. I can tell she has something fun planned. That’s the great thing about Jaime; she always knows how to have fun. She twirls a piece of her long blonde hair around her freshly manicured red fingernail and looks pointedly at me with her cat-like green eyes. “I have something for you — one sec,” she says quickly and rushes down the hall to her bedroom. She returns with a rectangular pink box, wrapped in a pink velvet bow. I know where it is from immediately.

“Victoria’s Secret? Jai, most straight girls don’t buy their best friends and roomies lingerie.” I quip, smiling a giddy smile. Jaime knows I have a thing for new sexy undies.

“Yeah I know, it was meant to be for your birthday, but I think you should wear it tonight.” She smiles at me with a wide smile that exposes all her pearly whites, and I untie the pink velvet bow. I take the top of the box off, and pull away the pink paper wrapping. I gasp. Inside is a full lingerie set, all black lace. There is a black lace push up bra, a frilly black lace pair of panties, a black lace corset with black velvet ties in the back and a black lace garter belt.

“Ahh Jai, thank you so much! It’s so pretty!” I jump up and throw my arms around my best friend. She squeezes back and gives my cheek a little peck.

“Maybe you’ll get lucky tonight,” she says, and walks towards her room to get ready. “I’m serious Becca, one hour we are leaving!” she says, as she closes her door.

I pick up the box of new lingerie and admire it as I lay it out next to my outfit for the night. Fuck Brian. Maybe I will get lucky tonight.

In the shower, I turn the water up extra hot and the tiny bathroom transforms into a steam room. Lathering up my thick brown hair, I hum along to the X-rated rap song blasting through the shower radio. Lil Wayne grunts and groans about a girl “popping her pussy,” and I giggle to myself trying to picture what that even means. I look down at my own pussy. Some light brown hairs have started to emerge down there, so I grab my razor and lather up some soap on it. If I am going to get lucky in my new lingerie, I better be prepared. I am careful not to cut my clit as I barber off my peach fuzz. My pussy feels smooth and silky. I glance at the clock on the shower radio and see that I have about forty minutes before Jaime will be screaming for me to get my ass out the door. I think I have a little time…

Spreading my newly shaved pussy, I aim the showerhead down so that the hot water charges against my little clit. The immediate pleasure is overwhelming. I tilt my head back, and feel my wet soapy hair slide down the length of my back. I work my casino siteleri fingers around my clit, softly massaging and tickling it under the water. A quiet but audible moan escapes my lips as the pleasure mounts deep within me. No man has ever pleased me as much as touching myself in the shower. Not even Brian. I feel myself growing unbelievably wet inside, and I stick two fingers in, feeling the warmth and tightness of myself. I am glad the shower radio is on because my moan is a little louder once I have my fingers inside myself. I create suction by dipping my fingers in and out of my pussy under the water, and feel my insides start to clench. I am about to cum. My pussy is so wet, when my fingers dip in to it, it sounds like a boot in mud. I work my fingers in and out, in and out, and gasp as my impending orgasm becomes more tangible. I feel it cumming, I feel it cumming…it is almost there, I go faster and faster into myself and spread myself wider and wider and just when I am about to cum…fucking Jaime bursts through the door.

“Ughh fuck!” I moan, as I quickly remove my fingers out of my pussy and resume lathering my hair.

“WHAT ARE YOU STILL DOING IN THE SHOWER??” She yells as she opens the medicine cabinet.

It is moments like this when I wish we both had our own bathroom. I was so close to cumming and now I was just going to be wet and frustrated all night. Dammit!

“I am just washing out the shampoo!” I reply angrily and put my head under the water stream.

“Hurry up, cabs are hard to find around here the later it gets.” She takes the mascara she was looking for from the cabinet and leaves, not even bothering to close the bathroom door. I heatedly turn off the water and reach for the fluffy green towel that’s lying on the sink. I dry off my face, my long slim arms, my flat stomach (careful not to catch my belly button piercing on the towel) and my lengthy legs. I comb out my knotty dark hair and wrap it up in the towel, walking out of the bathroom naked down the hall to Jaime’s room.

“Knock next time!” I shout into her room, and she raises her eyebrows at my nakedness. She is sitting in a blue thong and matching bra at her vanity, slowly stroking mascara up her eyelashes. Her tan body looks almost statuesque, and I can’t help but stare at it for a second.

“You know you’re totally naked…right?” she says slowly, eyes looking at her reflection in the mirror, but peripherals on me.

“Yes, I’ll be ready soon,” I say and pad out of her doorway into the bathroom again. As I blow-dry my hair into soft loose waves, I think about Jaime. Her and I met six years ago at Oberlin in the library freshman year, and have been inseparable ever since. She always knew she wanted to move to Manhattan after college, and once I decided to move to Manhattan as well, she conveniently needed a roomie so we moved in together to our apartment on West 62nd. She’s been my best friend for six years, and I have never been into girls, but there are moments when I look at her…and I get wet. I’ve never told her that, nor do I think I would. But there is something indescribably sexy about her that makes me want to try her out. I shake my head in the mirror and laugh. This might just be the “post-break-up-maybe-I-should-become-a-lesbian” voice speaking. I turn the blow dryer off, and open the medicine cabinet. I brush some blush on the apples of my pale cheeks, line the top lid of my eye with black eye-liner, coat my lashes with two layers of mascara and put a subtle shade of pink lipstick called “Peach Supreme” on. I pucker up in the mirror and smile at my reflection. With my made-up face and my blown out, Farrah Fawcett hair, I look sexy tonight. I hurry into my room, slip on my new lacey black panties and bra, put on the satin red halter top, squeeze into my tight jeans and step into my black pumps. I look at myself in my full-length mirror and blush. I am DEFINITELY getting lucky tonight. I spray some Hypnotic Poison Dior perfume on my neck, in my hair and on my wrist, grab my clutch and turn out the lights.

“Jesus, what does a girl have to do to get a drink around here?” I mutter, as Jaime and I squeeze through the crowd at the bar to try to make eye contact with a bartender.

“WHAT?” Jaime shouts back over the outrageously loud music. I can see why Jaime has brought me here. It is the perfect place to be distracted, and to forget about my new single status. Bodies packed at the bar, and also on the bright lit up and colorful dance floor in the center of the bar. A DJ is stationed up on a balcony, and around him, scantily clad skinny and leggy girls grind and dance. It is dark inside, the only lights come from the LED screens hanging on the walls, projecting sexy images of people kissing and dancing.

We make it to the front lines of the bar, and Jaime waves her hand at a bartender. Despite other people waiting longer for service, the bartender cannot resist Jaime’s green-eyed stare or luscious red lips.

“What can I get for canlı casino y’all?” he asks, with a slight southern twang.

“I’d like a jack and coke, and my friend here would like a dirty martini…extra dirty,” Jaime purrs in response. The bartender winks at her as he carts off to make our drinks.

“Well, looks like you’ll fuck that guy by the end of the night,” I tease Jaime, and she gives my ass a playful slap.

“If I flirt with the bartender, he’ll give us free drinks!” she says, her smile radiant. “It’s the oldest trick in the book!”

We turn around while waiting for our drinks, and scan the crowd. It is a pretty upscale place. Everyone is nicely dressed, everyone is fit, and everyone is gorgeous. This is no college bar. Couples grind and dance all around, holding their drinks high in the air. Some sit in secluded velvet booths, rubbing on each other and feeding each other small hors devours.

“Do you see anyone you like?” Jaime asks me, bopping to the beat.

“I can’t really tell, it’s dark!” I shout to be heard, and Jaime agrees.

“Guess we should get more in the mix,” she says, and turns back around. Our drinks are sitting pretty on the bar top. Mine has three olives in it speared by a small pink plastic sword. Jaime reaches for her pocket book to take out her wallet. In the cab ride over, she explained to me that I wasn’t allowed to pay for anything all night, and that she wanted me to get as drunk as possible. I was fine with those orders.

“Oh, darling, your drinks are paid for,” our bartender explains, leaning over the bar so we can hear him.

“What? How?” We both ask in unison, our faces contorted in confusion.

“That gentleman, over there,” he explains, pointing down the bar to a young man sitting in a secluded booth surrounded by three plastic looking, modelesque blondes with huge tits popping out of their sequined dresses.

“Why did he do that?” I ask the bartender.

“Who is he?” Jaime asks.

“Maybe you should go over and find out,” he answers with a smirk, and moves on to tend to the next eager-to-drink customer. Jaime and I giggle nervously at each other, and make our way through the crowd over to the young man. As we slowly approach, I see that he is simply ravishing. Even sitting, I can tell he is tall. Probably around 6’3″. He has scruffy, tousled brown hair and piercing blue eyes that shoot through me even in the dark. He has a square jaw lined by some stubble, and supple lips. His nose is the kind of nose people have plastic surgery to obtain, and his brows frame his face perfectly. He is wearing a white button down top, unbuttoned a few at the top to show a little patch of his chest hair.

“Hello ladies,” he says as we reach his table, his voice dripping like honey.

“Hi,” Jaime says awkwardly, and she reaches down and squeezes my hand.

“Thanks for the drinks. You didn’t have to do that,” I say strongly, even though my insides feel like jello in his presence.

“You girls didn’t have to come in here looking so sexy,” he muses, and his entourage of blonde bimbos chortle.

“Who are you?” Jaime asks, and seductively sips her drink through a straw, her red lips tight around it.

“I’m Samuel, would you ladies care to join us?”

“It doesn’t look like there is room,” I say, accidentally staring at one of the bimbo’s tits as I say it.

“We will make room. Brit, Cherry, Audry…leave,” he says sharply, and the three blondes slide out of the booth without a word. Woah…he just kicked them out to make room for us!! Jaime and I slide into the booth, both of us sitting with him between us.

“So you like extra dirty martinis?” he says right to me and I choke. He is so fucking good looking.

“Ha, uh yes, been my favorite drink for a while.”

“What are your names?” He asks, and picks up his drink, which I hadn’t even noticed until just then. Scotch. He takes a deep drink of it.

“I’m Jaime,” Jaime pipes in, “and this is Becca…er, Rebecca.”

“Pleased to meet you. I saw you two at the bar. You’re the sexiest girls here by far,” Samuel says, and takes another long swig. Jaime and I make eyes at each other and I can feel my cheeks turn red.

“Well that can’t be true, you were just surrounded by those beautiful blondes,” I say, testing his response.

“Those women are just my employees. I don’t find them particularly attractive. You can find a Barbie anywhere. I like women better,” he says, his voice low and dangerously sexy. He looks both me and Jaime up and down and gives his lower lip a little nibble. I want to nibble it.

“How old are you girls?”

“We’re twenty-four, how old are you?” Jaime asks.

“Older than that,” he says, and suddenly I feel his hand on my knee, squeezing it. He must be doing the same thing to Jaime’s knee, because she suddenly looks up at me and her eyes are super big. My pussy has been wet since my masturbation shower session was so rudely interrupted by Jaime, kaçak casino but now I feel a new surge of wetness as he touches me. Who is this guy?

“Those blondes were your employees,” Jaime shouts over the music, which just switched to some loud dubstep. “What did you mean by that? What do you do?”

“I am the boss and manager of an escort service. The largest in the city,” Samuel replies, his hand moving up my thigh towards my warm and wet pussy. I don’t even know him, but I don’t mind. I want his fingers brushing against my little wet spot.

“An escort service? Wow, so you can have like… sexy girls surrounding you whenever you want,” Jaime says nervously. Obviously his hand is almost at her pussy too.

“Like I do now?” Samuel questions, and smirks at us. “Let’s get another round, and then go. It’s too loud in here. I don’t like loud music, but I do like making my women scream loud,” Samuel says matter-of-factly, and he signals a waiter who appears out of nowhere to take his drink order.

“An extra dirty martini, a jack and coke, another scotch and three shots of tequila,” Samuel orders. The waiter goes to get it.

Jaime looks at me and mouths a word, “Threesome?” I look at her wide-eyed and smile, mouthing back, “I think that is what he wants.”

The waiter returns in a flash, almost as if he knew what Samuel was going to order, and we take our drinks. He clears away the empty glasses. I sip at my fresh new martini and look at Samuel. Is he a mind-reader? How did he know that I had thoughts about fucking Jaime earlier? Here he is, this random stranger, picking up on some sort of sign, giving us this golden opportunity. I was not expecting this, but I was not rejecting it either.

Jaime and I down our drinks, and Samuel finishes his Scotch in one long gulp. He passes out the tequila to each of us, and we all clink our glasses.

“To meeting new people,” Jaime says.

“To fucking new people,” Samuel says, smiling deviously, and we all throw the shot back.

No one says anything in the elevator once we get to his apartment. It is some swanky place on the Upper East Side, one that I could never afford even if I had three roomies. The elevator alone is a work of art, spacious, mirrored. We all just stare at each other in the reflections. The electricity between us is completely tangible. In that elevator, climbing up to the penthouse suite floor, I am so happy I am wearing my new lingerie.

The elevator comes to a smooth stop, and the doors open to his place. The benefit of a penthouse: you don’t even need to walk down a hallway to get to your door. The elevator opens right to your place.

“Do you ladies want anything to drink?” Samuel asks politely, as he empties the pockets of his grey linen pants into a tray on a table in the foyer. Jaime and I stand awkwardly in the elevator still. “You should probably exit the elevator, otherwise you’ll just go back down,” Samuel chuckles and we follow him down the corridor, walking past a grand sitting room with a piano, an exquisite library with an ornate fireplace and cherry wood desk, and another sitting room. He brings us to a completely modern kitchen with all new appliances, and marble countertops.

“Water?” Jaime asks, and Samuel nods. He opens the fridge and takes out of pitcher of water that has cucumber slices floating on the top. Oh…so fancy. He slides both of us a glass of it and I chug it down. It feels cool and fresh down my throat.

“Get naked,” Samuel commands, as he drinks a glass of his own. Woah. Bossy. For some reason, neither Jaime nor I try to fight it. We both just take off our clothes. I slide my halter-top over my head, and unbutton my jeans. I pull them down my legs and kick off my pumps with them as they fall to the ground. “Leave your pumps on,” he says, although I didn’t think he could see my feet from where he stood. Jaime is wearing gold pumps, and she keeps hers on too. We both stand next to each other, in our panties and bras and pumps, waiting for his directions. I am in shock. Why are we being so compliant with a stranger?

“Jaime, take Rebecca’s bra off and suck on her tits,” Samuel says, as he takes off his own shirt. His eyes never leaving us. Jaime comes around behind me and unsnaps my bra. She whispers to me through my hair, “Are you okay with this?” and I nod my head. I have a strange feeling she planned this from the start. She throws my bra to the floor and my tits bounce out in front of me. My nipples are already hard. She stands in front of me and takes one of my boobs in her hands, looking up at me and smiling she takes my nipple in between her teeth and gives it a little pull. I moan. She then sticks it between her lips and sucks, her green eyes boring into my chocolate brown ones. Samuel is standing on the other side of the kitchen counter, watching us. His breath deepening, his abs contracting as he breathes. His arms are muscular and sculpted, and I can see his muscles twitch. He is still wearing his pants. I know how I can get him to take them off. Jaime is still sucking at my boobs, now both in her hands and mouth. While she stands there, I loop my fingers in her panties and pull them down fast, catching her off guard.

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