Raylene was in her room. Standing in from the desk, leaning a little forward so the t-shirt rode up, just covering her ass but giving an impressive display of the backs of her thighs. I said, from the door, “Well done, girl.”
“Sir?” Raylene didn’t turn around. I hadn’t told her to move and she was being as good as she could be.
She looked amused, and arched her arse back, to check if those conversations had made me hard. Of course they had, though the sight of Raylene had made it enthusiastic. She said, “oooh,” to let me know she was happy.
I said, “Um, so do you really want to fuck Lynette, or were you just teasing when you put your ass on her bed?”
“Um. She wanted to fuck me. And probably you. I mean, here’s me putting up with all sorts of terrible cruelties, and obviously having a whale of a time – yes, thank you – so that’s got to be a good sign. And there’s Bellie wanting to fuck you too. So you’re getting good, oh, word of mouth. If she didn’t want you it’d make her the only woman in the house who didn’t. And.” Then she stopped, uncertain.
“OK. Even if I, oh, asked her nicely, I’d put my chances at no better than 50-50. Though that’s pretty good. But what do you want? Do you want to fuck her?”
“I thought what I want doesn’t count.”
I kissed her again, and held her belly so our bodies pressed close together as they could. “I decide, yes. But I still want to know what you want. Because sometimes you just might get something you want. If you’ve been good.”
“You’ve been incredibly good. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”
She relaxed again, more tension gone. “Phew! I wasn’t sure you were paying attention.”
“Sit on the edge of the desk, legs apart, facing me.”
Raylene turned around. “Yes, sir.”
When she’d settled I put my hands on her buttocks and held her close, her thighs pressing against my hips. She looked into my eyes. She was having a good time. I kissed her, and she held me under my shoulders and kissed back. Time, good time, passed.
Eventually I said, “You’re scarily devious, though.”
She laughed. She was relieved that I approved. “Survival skills. Anyway, Lynette’s a pushover. I don’t think it’d take much of a push from you, either.”
It was my turn to say, “Hmmm.” But Raylene was probably right. Not because of my own charm. But Raylene’s and Lynette’s conversation on Lynette’s bed must have begun by being sexual, in a way that related to me, especially once that conversation featured Raylene’s ass in all its razor-stropped glory. And that ass was pretty much the sexiest thing I could think of, right then. So I had general arousal, plus popular opinion in my favour. “Well, girl, little sugar-mouse, do you want to fuck her?”
“If I did, would you want to be there?”