Lunch

Polly suggested a late lunch, and as they drove to their favourite bistro, Dawn realized just how ravenous she was. The adrenaline of their morning escapade leaving the apartment without underwear, the thrill of exposure had masked her hunger until now. But as they pulled into the parking lot, another realization struck her.

Shit.

She turned to Polly, who was focused on navigating into a tight spot. "Erm… I don’t know how to put this, but I’m broke," Dawn admitted, cheeks flushing. "I’ve got a few pounds stashed in the apartment, but that’s supposed to last me until payday on Friday."

Polly smirked, her eyes flicking toward Dawn for a brief, amused glance. "Don’t worry about it," she purred, her voice laced with mischief. "I’m sure we can work something out."

The way she said it sent a little shiver down Dawn’s spine.

Stepping out of the car, Dawn suddenly felt self-conscious. Her formal dress though short was wildly out of place next to Polly’s gym bra and leggings, which clung to her toned frame like a second skin. The contrast made Dawn hyper aware of every glance their way as they entered the cozy bistro and slid into their usual spot by the window.

The server, a young man with a friendly, slightly flushed face, approached. His eyes lingered a beat too long on Polly before darting to Dawn, his smile widening. "Hi, ladies. What can I get for you today?"

Polly didn’t hesitate. "I’ll have a coffee. And my friend will have a large glass of red wine."

Dawn opened her mouth to protest, but Polly pressed a finger to her lips, her voice dropping to a husky murmur. "If I’m paying, I decide what goes into that little body of yours."

Dawn’s protest died in her throat. She swallowed, then managed a meek, "Okay… but can I at least get a sandwich?"

Polly chuckled and ordered for them both, adding a second glass of wine before Dawn could object.

Dawn wasn’t much of a drinker. On a typical night out, three or four drinks were enough to send the world pleasantly fuzzy around the edges. By the time she finished her first glass, warmth had already seeped into her limbs, loosening her muscles, dulling her self-consciousness.

By the second, her cheeks were flushed and she was full of giggles

And when Polly ordered a third, Dawn didn’t resist.

Polly leaned forward, her blue eyes glinting with playful challenge. "Okay. Truth or dare?"

Dawn grinned. "Truth."

"How many sexual partners have you had?"

The question caught her off guard. She hesitated, then sighed. "None, to be honest. I only had my first orgasm yesterday. I’ve never been with anyone. The only person to touch me… down there… has been Mr. Chung."

Polly’s mouth dropped open. "What about that guy from the Christmas party? The one who told everyone"

Dawn shook her head. "Nope. Still pure, mistress."

Polly snorted. "After the show you put on for me this morning? Definitely not pure."

Dawn drained her glass, emboldened. "Your turn. How many partners have you had?"

Polly went quiet before answering. "Erm… not sure. Thirty-five? Forty? There was one night at a party where things got… a little crazy."

Dawn’s jaw dropped. "More than one guy at a time?"

Polly locked eyes with her, a wicked smirk curling her lips. "Honey, I’ve had sex with guys and girls. Don’t be a prude."

The third glass of wine arrived, and Dawn gulped half of it down before Polly leaned in again.

"Okay. Dare," Polly murmured, her voice low and commanding. "And since you called me Mistress earlier…"

Dawn’s breath hitched.

"Open your legs. Face the window for the rest of our time here."

Dawn’s stomach flipped. The wine haze thinned abruptly, replaced by a sharp, sobering thrill. Her body obeyed before her mind could protest her knees parting just enough to expose the pale, bare skin between her thighs to anyone who might glance their way.

She shot Polly a nervous look and caught the way her friend’s nipples had hardened beneath her gym bra, the fabric straining. A reckless idea sparked in Dawn’s wine addled mind.

She downed the rest of her glass in one go.

"Your turn," she challenged. "My dare is for you to pull that bra down just enough to let your nipples peek over the top then go pay for our meal like that."

Polly’s eyes darkened with surprise, then amusement. "You little slut," she breathed, grinning. "Didn’t think you had it in you."

Without hesitation, she tugged her bra down, her full breasts spilling over the top, dusky areolas and stiff nipples on full display. Dawn’s mouth went dry.

Polly stood, sauntered to the counter drawing every eye in the room and paid the bill. Dawn watched, pulse racing, as the young server’s gaze locked onto Polly’s chest, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

Then, to Dawn’s shock, he started walking toward her.

He stopped at their table, looking sheepish. "Erm… your friend said you dropped a fork?" He gestured to the floor right between her spread legs.

Dawn’s stomach clenched. That bitch.

"Not a problem," she muttered, not moving an inch.

The server hesitated, then crouched, his face level with her thighs. She could feel his gaze, the heat of his breath, the charged silence as he lingered just a second too long. When he stood, his cheeks were flushed, his smile knowing.

Dawn bit her lip, her core throbbing.

Back in the car, Polly still hadn’t adjusted her bra, her nipples stiff in the cool air. Dawn’s head spun from the wine, from the adrenaline, from the way her body hummed with unspent tension.

The moment they reached the apartment, Polly strode into Dawn’s room and yanked open her bedside drawer, pulling out the little silver vibrator.

"Hey!" Dawn protested. "I was going to use that!"

Polly held it between two fingers, her smirk victorious. "Trust me, my need is greater than yours." She turned to leave, then paused, glancing over her shoulder. "On second thought… I don’t think you should have this back for a few days. Wouldn’t want you ruining that sweet little virgin pussy of yours." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "And don’t even think about touching yourself."

The door slammed.

Dawn collapsed onto her bed, the room spinning. The familiar sounds of Polly’s pleasure moans soon drifted through the walls, breathy sighs. Her fingers twitched toward her bare thighs, her body aching.

But she stopped.

I’ve been ordered not to.