It Wouldn't Take Much

“She is… enthusiastic,” Blake mused sarcastically beside me, making me snort with laughter because I honestly couldn’t say he was wrong.

If I had to guess I’d peg girl-Kim as a drama major because everything she did had such a theatrical air to it. She was bouncing up and down on her newfound friend, calling out all manner of things and flexing and performing, for lack of a better term. It was like she’d watched a bunch of videos and now was trying to replicate them, with an attention to detail that left something to be desired but an enthusiasm that was ultimately a little endearing.

And Blake cutting wry beside me did bring a smile to my face that melted away the tension between us. I found myself holding back a laugh, a choice that became a whole lot more difficult when she started to yip and yelp with each bounce.

Beside me Blake reached down and pulled up his pants and cinched them up, apparently aware that his fun for the night had ended, with me at least. I have to admit the fact that he took it so well did leave me wondering whether he had something more planned, but right now he didn’t seem to have any kind of intention to cross my boundaries.

“You’re fun,” he mused, “And I bet you’d be a lot better in the sack that she is.”

I scoffed, “You’ll never find out.”

But I didn’t know if I could really say that. My body was still roiling from the way that he’d touched me, from the way that he’d built that pleasure within me. I could feel things ebbing but still flowing, a potent brew of need and curiosity and the remnants of my own explorations earlier tonight sending a series of ‘What if?’ questions running through my mind that were begging for answers.

“You’re acting like you didn’t have fun,” Blake said, fully dressed and turned to face me, “But I don’t think even you could honestly say that’s true.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, a movement that reminded me that my dress was both pulled up and pushed down and my skin was incredibly hot to the touch. Protesting his words and feigning ignorance to it was an impossibility, but that didn’t stop me from trying.

“You’re reaching,” I shot back, a little less sure, “You don’t know how I feel.”

He shook his head, “Oh I do. I think I do far better than you’d like to admit and I would wager, if I was a betting man, that it wouldn’t take much.”

“Much to what?” I asked.

“Much to make you cum,” he said bluntly, “Much to get you off. I bet I could have you cumming, right here and right now, if you gave me an inch.”

If I gave him an inch he just might take a mile so that was the last thing I should do. Right?

“Still an asshole,” I quipped, but my words were deflected by him with a shrug.

“I never debated that,” he pointed out, “And I’m fine with you calling me whatever you want. Though I do like it when I hear a girl moan out Daddy.”

“Fun,” I sneered, “You’ve got a Daddy thing then?”

“No,” he shook his head slowly, “I just like the way a girls mouth moves when they moan that word.”

“Gross,” I replied, unconvincingly.

“You love it,” he quipped, playfully.

Across the clearing Kim and her friend had turned. She was on all fours and he was behind her, his thrusts ragged and uneven and unskilled but still she was putting on a performance, throwing a glance back over her shoulder and letting him and us see her face in a mask of ecstasy as she cried out.

“Oh god yes, Daddy.”

“See?” Blake said simply beside me, “Hot.”

I scoffed, “I am not going to call you Daddy.”

He shrugged, “Suit yourself.”

But the longer we watched from the bushes, the better the performance got. Maybe it was that I stopped caring about the fakeness of it or maybe it was that her own interest grew.

I couldn’t be sure but either way I knew, I had to get out of here soon or I would certainly cross a line.

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