Molly's Tease

Darling, can I be your favorite?

I'll be your girl, let you taste it...

Molly advanced on Jack. He looked like he was over the moon, and it wasn't hard to see why. She wasn't a tall girl. That made it easier to appreciate all of her at the same time. Her socks were lying on the floor by Joan's chair, leaving her in bare feet as she glid across the floor to him. From my spot on the futon, I could only see her back, and I hated it. *Maybe I'm not as straight as I thought.* I wanted desperately to see what her eyes looked like, right now.

I know what you want, yeah

Just take it...

My friend doubled over, touching her toes and dragging her left hand up her leg. She snapped her head back, and her red hair flew up, cresting down her neck. Then her hand reached the zipper on the side of her skirt, and we all held a collective breath. If she was going to bail out, this would be the moment. If. As if. That wasn't Molly.

You could've heard a pin drop. Instead, we heard the *ziiiiiiiip*of her skirt as her hand continued to fly up and up. She pressed it to the side of her neck, like she was checking her own pulse, and the leather slipped away.

Ugh. Maybe seeing her from behind wasn't so bad after all. I bit my lip, trying to be polite, but totally unable to stop myself from staring at her unblemished bubble butt. When she fell to her knees, it got even better– or worse, depending on how you look at it. The heels of her feet provided it with the perfect resting place. Spank it, came the errant thought, but I overcame.

"Damn, girl," Lea gasped.

"Damn, girl!" Jack howled with glee.

Want you to tell me you crave it

My name's whatever you make it...

Molly dropped down to all fours, crawling closer to him. For a beautiful instant, her ass was up in the air, practically begging for us to stare at it. Her lacy black underwear offset her pale skin like it was made to do it. "Is this what you were looking for, you son of a bitch?" she breathed, framed between his knees.

He smiled wider. "You know it," he said.

One by one, she undid the buttons on her blouse, and allowed the garment to sag around her elbows. "Well," she said, channelling a perfect, breathy Marilyn. "Appreciate it, because you're never gonna get the real thing." With that, she dropped the blouse entirely, and bounced back up to return to the futon. "Done, asshole," she said.