She's playing with us

“Pledge Summers, give Mr. Lane a nice long kiss to thank him for his efforts,” Shar commands.

Alyssa looks unhappy—not at kissing me, I’m sure, but at the order and the circumstances—and I expect her to argue, but she doesn’t. She rolls up on one elbow, and I roll up to face her, and she kisses me deeply. She’s a little stiff at first, but I stroke her face, hair, and shoulders, and it isn’t long before she relaxes into me. Her eyes are full of unreadable emotion as we break off, but I think part of it is gratitude.

“Now, Mr. Lane, those boxers are soaked. Take them off so they can be washed.” I’m still looking at Alyssa as Shar says this. Part of me is mortified, but—at this point, is that sort of modesty reaction reasonable. I can see Alyssa begging me with her eyes to go along with it, so I shrug, roll onto my back, and pull them off. I’m hard as steel at this point, and as long as I’ve ever been. The look of naked raw hunger on Shar’s face as she stares at my spear sends a bolt of lust through me like I’ve never experienced. “Well, well, well,” she murmurs. “We can’t leave you like this, now, can we? What are we going to do about this?”