She shows her panties off with her legs spread

The conversation around the couch shifted with a sudden, sharper edge. One of the guys near the window leaned forward, grinning, and asked the room at large what color panties everyone was wearing. A few laughs answered him. Someone else chimed in, louder, demanding proof. Lily, still flushed and loose from the beer, giggled like it was the funniest thing she had ever heard.

“Mine are black,” she announced, and without hesitation she stood up just enough to hike the hem of her own short dress high, flashing a pair of plain black bikini briefs for a second before dropping the fabric again. The room whooped. A couple of the guys clapped. Lily dropped back onto the couch, laughing harder, completely unselfconscious.

Chloe felt her face heat. The two men flanking her turned their attention fully onto her. The broad-shouldered one on her left gave her thigh a light squeeze and asked, voice casual but pointed, “What about you, Chloe? Matching set or something special?”

She tried to laugh it off, the same soft, polite sound she always used when she was uncomfortable. “Just… regular. Nothing exciting.”

That was not enough. The leaner guy on her right chuckled and said, “Show us. Fair’s fair.” His hand slid from her outer thigh to the underside of her knee. The man on her left did the same. Before she could protest, both of them hooked their fingers behind her knees and pulled. Her legs parted smoothly, the short black dress riding all the way up to the crease of her hips. Cool air touched the narrow strip of fabric between her thighs.

Chloe’s breath caught. She was suddenly very aware of the thin black thong she had chosen earlier that evening—barely more than a triangle of lace in front, a slender string disappearing between her cheeks. The two men settled her calves across their laps so that her legs stayed open, heels still on, black pumps dangling a little as her feet hung just past their knees. The position left her completely on display from the waist down. Only the narrow thong protected her modesty, and even that left almost nothing to the imagination.

Heat flooded her cheeks. She felt exposed in a way that made her stomach twist, yet she did not yank her legs closed. Lily was still laughing, the other guys were staring openly, and some part of Chloe—the same part that had agreed to pretend to be Aaron’s girlfriend—decided the easiest path was to play along rather than make a scene. She kept her hands loosely in her lap, fingers curled against the hem of the dress that no longer covered anything important, and forced another small smile.

“See?” she said, voice thinner than she liked. “Just black.”

The man on her left let his free hand rest heavily on her inner thigh, thumb stroking once near the edge of the lace. The one on her right did the same on the opposite side, fingertips tracing the thin elastic that framed her hips. Their eyes stayed fixed on the small triangle of fabric and the soft skin around it. Chloe’s pulse hammered. She could feel every shift of their legs under hers, the heat of their palms, the way the room’s attention had narrowed to the space between her spread thighs.

Lily leaned over, still grinning. “Told you she was hot. Look at her.” She reached out and gave the side of Chloe’s dress a playful tug higher, as if the fabric needed any more help. Chloe’s stomach fluttered with a mix of nerves and something she did not want to name. She stayed still, heels pointed slightly outward, legs open across the two laps, the narrow thong the only barrier left.

One of the standing guys whistled low. Another muttered something about how little the thong actually covered. Chloe’s fingers tightened on the dress. She was acutely aware of how the lace clung, how the string between her cheeks shifted when she breathed, how the position left her completely open to every gaze in the room. The beer she had barely touched sat forgotten on the floor. Her mind flicked briefly to Josh, to the quiet apartment and the soft way he kissed her, then forced the thought away. She was here for Lily. She just needed to get through this, keep everyone calm, and find a moment to pull her friend out of the house.

The broad-shouldered man on her left gave her thigh another slow stroke, closer this time to the edge of the lace. “You always wear thongs like this?” he asked, voice low enough that only the immediate circle could hear. Chloe swallowed and managed a small nod, still playing along even as her pulse raced. The man on her right shifted her calf higher on his lap so that her heel rested more firmly against his thigh, the movement spreading her another fraction. The thin fabric of the thong pulled tighter. Cool air brushed places that were normally covered.

Lily was still chatting, completely at ease, telling a story about how she had ended up at the party in the first place. Chloe half-listened, her attention split between the hands on her legs and the door across the room. She counted bodies again, measured distances, waited for a pause in the conversation that might let her suggest leaving. The two men kept her legs exactly where they were, open and resting across their laps, the black pumps still on, the narrow thong the only thing shielding her from full view. Every small shift of her hips made the lace move. Every glance from the other guys in the room made her cheeks burn hotter.

She stayed seated that way, exposed and nervous, playing along with the softest possible smile while the party continued around her and the minutes stretched longer than she wanted them to.