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But I’m pretty sure I’m not a saint. “I have some memories, but they’re really vague. Mostly flashes of images here and there. I don’t know if Clone Dora is a virgin, but I’ve had sex in the past. I know what I’m doing.”
“Well thank kef for that,” Bethiah says dryly.
I close my eyes and try to get specifics from my hodgepodge of memories. They’re mostly feelings, these memories, of warm bodies pressed together, and hands on skin. Of fingers diving under waistlines to find what lies beneath, and hot mouths exploring and tasting. Of lying in bed afterward, replete. I don’t see faces, but it doesn’t matter. That wasn’t even really me, was it? I’m a new person, just grown with the memories of someone else who lived in an entirely different place. “Not a virgin,” I say again. “You don’t have to worry about me. I know what I like.”
Jamef’s eyes narrow with interest. He tilts his head as he regards me. “And what is it you like, sweetheart?”
“That’s another question, isn’t it?” I feel brave taunting him, giving a teasing smile and then drinking from my cup as if my heart isn’t fluttering like a trapped bird.
“You didn’t ask me my experience,” Bethiah taunts.
Jamef just smirks. “We don’t have all day.”
I gasp, but Bethiah hoots with amusement. I guess she doesn’t mind that he knows she’s been around. Maybe alien morals are different in that aspect. Back home that’d be offensive, but Bethiah clearly likes the taunting jab. “I like that she’s experienced,” I say, giving Bethiah a loyal look. “It makes me feel safe with her. Like she’s in control when we kiss.”
She turns toward me, a thoughtful expression on her face, as if my answer surprises her. Her lips curl into a smile and she reaches over and grabs my cup and takes a sip, drinking from the same spot that I did. “You really are the sweetest thing, fluffit.”
Her words make me blush with pleasure.
“Now it’s your turn, I suppose.” Bethiah hands my cup back. “You get to ask.”
I beam at her. “Truth or dare, Bethiah.”
“Dare,” she scoffs. “Of course it’s dare. We’ll be here all night talking about our feelings if I leave it up to you two.”
I think for a moment, my drunken mind throwing all kinds of wild scenarios out into the open. Bethiah nudges her cup toward me and I fill it with more fruit wine, deciding that I’m going to go big. “I dare you…to make Jamef come.”
Jamef sucks in a breath.
Bethiah grins widely. “You don’t say.”
“I do say. And I get to watch.” I lift my chin, liking this more and more. “We’re a triad, right? And you’re attracted to him. And I’m attracted to both of you. So I dare you to make him come. Right here. Right now.”
It’s too much too soon. I know it is. I should be daring her to kiss him, or to unbutton something (except she’s not wearing any buttons). Something tame and playful.
But Bethiah just gets to her feet and tosses her hair. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”
Forty
JAMEF
I watch Bethiah as she approaches, thinking this is how prey feels just before it’s downed by the predator. She’s got a little smile playing on her lips and I can see her mind working. Either she’s trying to figure out how to get out of this or she’s working out how best to make me suffer. It’s not going to be straightforward touching with Bethiah. Never is. We’ve flirted and teased in the past, but we’ve never gone so far as to make each other come.
An orgasm feels like a commitment, and I know I’m not the only one that thinks that way.
But I know Bethiah loves a game and a challenge, so I lift my chin, daring her to do just as she’s commanded. I can smell Dora’s excitement in the air, her sped-up heart rate registering on my ocular monitor. She’s excited for this, and I have to admit, her anticipation is fueling mine…along with the sultry look Bethiah is sending my way.
Most males count themselves lucky to get one mate. I get two. How the kef did I get so fortunate?
Bethiah approaches me with a contemplative look, then looms over me in my chair. She eyes the table and then nudges it with her hip. “We need to move this.”
“I’ll help,” Dora says, getting to her feet.
“Yes you will,” Bethiah purrs, and my sac tightens in anticipation. What is she referring to? I watch, frozen in my seat, as the two females move the table out of the way. Instead of turning to me where I sit, my cock hard in my trou, Bethiah turns to Dora and touches her chin. “You’re not too drunk to play, are you, fluffit?”
Dora blinks in confusion. “It’s Jamef’s turn —”
