You Kiss Her Ass

Aisha's screech of "OHMYGODOHMYGOD" filled the room as my lips made contact—not a peck, not a brush, but a full, humiliating press of my mouth against the curve of her left cheek. The leggings were damp from her earlier workout, salty with the faint musk of sweat, and the heat radiating through the fabric burned worse than the girls' howling laughter. Sanah shuddered above me, her fingers tightening in my hair as she arched into the kiss, her breath hitching audibly.

"AGAIN." Nyla's voice cracked through the speakers, barely intelligible through her wheezing laughter. Sanah didn't hesitate, grinding back against my face until my nose indented the fabric, her phone capturing every second of my reddening ears, my trembling jaw, the involuntary moan that escaped when her thumb glanced my collar, causing the bell to ring again. I had **** but to obey and kiss her ass again. "Good boy," she cooed, twisting just enough to catch Aisha's wide-eyed stare. "Now tell them you love it."

My tongue felt like lead, my lips still tingling from the heat of her—but the girls' expectant silence was worse. "I..." The collar's bell jingled as I swallowed. "I love it." The lie tasted like cotton and salt, but the way Sanah's thighs clenched around mine told me she believed it. "Fuck yeah he does!" Aisha crowed, her screen shaking as she presumably high-fived Nyla. "Bring him NOW!"