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She feels it too, and deftly turns the conversation to what we do. Within a quick Vegas minute, all three of us are talking as if we’ve known each other forever, bouncing crazy ideas and finishing each other’s sentences.This is new. I’ve never had this happen. Is it real?She bounces off to go chat up other tables, promising to return shortly. And she’s good to her promise. She makes the rounds, and then promptly plops herself on my lap and the conversation picks up right where we paused it.
Lap hopping (falling into?) is my go-to move, so this is the first time someone hopped onto my lap.She is softer than she looks, and her head fits perfectly on my shoulder. In between one of the songs we start comparing our necklines and dresses. We try to figure out spirit animals, and that’s when David just chuckles as if overcome with insight and calls us Zebra and Giraffe. She looks at me, looks at herself, looks at my cleavage, looks at her cleavage. And enthusiastically agrees. She tells us that wemustcome to the after-party.
I tell her yes, of course. And I sort of mean it. She bounces off to work the room.
I am sort of befuddled. David is looking at me and I can feel him chuckling at me.
“What,” I ask.
“You,” he replies. “You are a constant source of amusement.”
“Wait, what?”
“I do believe you just met your meta-twin,” he says. “She’s just as pretty, just as smart, just as driven, and just as clueless as you are. At least you know that you want a girl. She doesn’t know what she doesn’t know.”
“That’s not fair,” I respond. “What if I want a girl and a boy?”
“Well, there are plenty of boys here,” he says. “See anyone you want to unwrap?”
“Maybe,” I blush. “I do kind of like the girls here better than their boys.”
“Yes, there is one girl in particular that you seem to like a lot. Well, perhaps you should do something about it, rather than just rub your thighs together when Giraffe sniffs your cleavage.”
“I don’t do that!”
“Why, yes. Yes, you do.”
With horror I realize that Laura is standing right next to us listening to the exchange.
“Does she really rub her thighs?” she asks David.
“Yes, I’m surprised she didn’t already climax with you on her lap,” he quips back.
“I thought you guys are married?” she says
I don’t know what we are. I don’t know how to explain what we are. I don’t know how to answer this question. Fortunately, David does.
“We’re business partners, intimate friends, and each other’s wingman.”
“So, you sleep together?” she presses.
“What does sex have to do with intimacy?” he shoots back. “Yes, I can bed her whenever I feel like, and that is real intimacy, not sex.”
I must be sitting with my mouth agape at the exchange. They’re having a conversation about me and I’m sitting right here.Wait, did he really just say he can bed me whenever he feels like?! Why hasn’t he?I start rubbing my thighs together.
“See,” he says. “That’s what I’m talking about.”
“That’s so hot,” she nods in agreement.
For some reason, their stares penetrate me to the core, and I feel an explosion inside that warms me with the idea of the two of them just watching me play. “Ok, OK, we’re coming to the after-party,” I hear myself say.
* * *
The after-party isin this somewhat opulent and somewhat dilapidated hotel suite. There are mirrors on the ceiling. There are 2 bed suites. There is a bar and a stripper pole.There is a pool table. Seriously, what’s is the pool table doing here?There is a mirror directly above the pool table. The décor looks really Louis XIV style. And it seems like the furniture has been here since the eighteenth century too.
We walk in and are greeted by a naked woman. She lost her shoes and she’s trying to trade sex for help with finding her shoes.Strange, I think. “What have you taken,” asks David of her. She’s definitely on something, but she’s not telling what. Just laser focused on finding her shoes on the other end of someone’s cock. Laura takes her by the hand and leads her to a chair in the corner. She sits her down, covers the shoeless women up with a blanket and asks the DJ who is providing the music to keep an eye on her. Shoeless girl immediately sinks into sleep, her breasts popping out of the blanket.
“Sorry about her,” says Laura. She’s such a sweet girl, but she’s got … issues.”
