The Drawing Room (consensual het-ish swapping)

Aden can see the excitement on Tommy's face as they approach the red oak door marked DRAWING ROOM. She's pulling him down the hall, her eyes bright, her hand hot to the touch. She pauses when they actually reach the door, and looks at him, nervous. "I don't know how this works," she whispers. "Do we knock?"

"It seems polite," Nick says, and does so.

"Come in," Kurt calls, and Nick swings the heavy door open. Tommy peeks through, taking the scene in. The room is small, just a little bigger than an apartment room, the walls papered in faded red wallpaper which was probably beautiful fifty years ago. Still, the room is better maintained than anywhere else they've been so far. The back wall contains a massive bookshelf, lined with old volumes, recently dusted. There are two large well-padded armchairs, oak and red fabric, both facing a small round table on which a crystal decanter and several ornate glasses sit. An ashtray has two cigars, a cigar cutter, and a fancy silver lighter waiting, and a book is already sitting there, a silk bookmark marking someone's place. Kurt is sitting in one chair, with his submissive pulled up into his lap. He's brushing her hair with a small silver brush; as they enter the room, he motions toward the open chair. "We were hoping you might accept our invitation," he says. "Morgan was struck by how sweet and pretty you are, Tommy."

Morgan shifts in his lap, her face still cast down. Her nipples are hard as pebbles, sticking out between the silver chains of her top. Her legs are partly opened, just enough to show the swell of her crotch where her panties press against her mound. Her arms and legs are long, almost colt-like, her lips red and full, her breasts just as full. The brush catches in her hair, and she snaps her head up with a slight gasp, her eyes deep brown like her chestnut colored hair.

"Morgan's very pretty as well," Nick says, taking the open chair and facing Kurt, about six feet between them. He pats his knee, and Tommy snuggles into his lap, her ass pressed against him. She's hard as a rock, her eyes locked on the other couple. "What do you think of Morgan, baby?" he asks her, softly, his arm wrapping around her belly and pulling her square so she's looking right at them.

"She's so beautiful," Tommy breathes, a catch in her voice. "So beautiful." It almost sounds like a whine.

Master Kurt smiles at her need. "Well, then, perhaps I should let you have a better look at her." He repositions Morgan so she's seated exactly the same way as Tommy, the tiny blonde and the willowy brunette facing each other. "Would you like that, Morgan?"

"Yes, please," Morgan whispers, staring at Tommy, drinking her in. Kurt nods, and places the hairbrush on the table, then reaches down and hooks Morgan's panties with his thumbs. He whispers into her ear, and she shivers, then lifts her hips enough to allow him to peel her panties slowly down over her thighs. Nick can see they're damp, and he thinks he gets the point of this game.

"Tommy, would you like Morgan to be able to see you, too?" he asks, softly. He feels her shiver, feels her fear of rejection.