Vincent

Nicole's mother said, "We're just about to head out for brunch, but I'm sure Nicole wouldn't mind if you joined us."

Oh God, Nicole thought. Her first thought is Huck. This is awful. She quickly jumped around the corner to protest and saw Vincent standing in the doorway holding a rose in one hand and a roller suitcase in the other.

"Oh hey," Vincent said. "I, um, sorry. Your calendar showed you as available, so I thought I'd come make you breakfast. Didn't realize your mom would be here," Vincent explained.

Nicole's mother beamed before Nicole could respond. "You have a shared calendar? Oh my, Nicole, how long have you been keeping Vincent a secret?" She takes the rose from Vincent's hand and heads over to Nicole's cabinet to find a vase.

Nicole glared at Vincent behind her mother's back. "Mom, it isn't what you think."

Vincent shrugged and formed "I didn't know" with his mouth.

"Don't you have a vase?" Her mother asked. Nicole didn't have a vase. No one had given her flowers since she was in high school.

"There's a wine decanter in that cabinet. So, yeah, anyway, this brunch is sort of a family thing, Vincent. I hope you understand, but call me later, okay?"

Nicole's mother puts the rose in the decanter. "Now, Nicole, I already invited Vincent along. It's clear he wants to see you. Why don't you drop off your bag, and we'll head out? Nicole's father has already been waiting for nearly 45 minutes."

Nicole huffed. "Fine, Mom, but can you give me five minutes with Vincent? We'll meet you at the car."

With a nod of approval and a knowing grin, Nicole's mother headed outside to join her father. As soon as Nicole heard the front door close, she turned on Vincent, her voice barely above a whisper.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed. "And why did you bring a suitcase?"

"Your calendar was open, so I grabbed some time to play. The suitcase has a surprise..." Vincent said. It was clear he was struggling to contain how hard he wanted to tell her the surprise.

Nicole sighed. "Fine, what's the surprise?"

Vincent squealed like a schoolgirl and zipped the suitcase open. The suitcase opened to reveal a colorful array of pastel pony gear, all in shades of pink and yellow. In the center was a headpiece with a pony's face and ears, complete with a bit for the mouth. Next to it were a pair of hooved boots and a long tail with a sizable plug attached to the end. Scattered around were other items, such as reins, cuffs, and whips, all in the same playful style.

Nicole felt goosebumps. He must have dropped a few hundred dollars on all of this gear. In all of her serious relationships, no one had ever invested this much into her fantasies. Not that being a pony was ever her fantasy, but serving the needs of others was, and that was exactly Vincent's expectation. "This must have been expensive," she said.

"You're worth it," Vincent whispered. He gave Nicole a silent, longing look.

She swallowed and shored up her defenses. "Look, Vincent, this is brunch with my parents. Obviously, they don't know about my free-use experiment, okay? I need you to make an excuse and leave. You can...come back later, and we'll play with all of this."

Vincent continued to be silent, but that look of longing faded. His face became firm and determined. "No," he said. "You're free use. The rules I was sent were very clear. I have you for three hours. I get to do almost anything I want. And..." he paused again. Nicole was annoyed. She opened her mouth to cut him off, but he quickly finished his thought before she could. "I want a girlfriend experience. Brunch with your mom and dad. Hand holding. Sweet kisses. All of it."

Nicole raised her eyebrows. That was the least arousing thing she could imagine. "Vincent, that isn't really..."

"I'll tell!" He said in a tone that was grating and petulant. "I'll tell this Reverand guy that you forfeit! And I'll tell my Uncle that you refused me."

There was a knock on the front door. "Everything alright in there?" Nicole's mom called inside.

Nicole's head spun. Nicole felt like she needed to agree. She wasn't overly concerned about Vincent telling her group. They'd likely side with her, but it was, surprisingly, the threat of him telling Huck. And, she admitted to herself, it was a tiny bit the fact that Vincent turned into a distasteful man-child to get what he wanted. It was gross and made her loathe him. Vincent didn't deserve what she was offering by being free use for him, and that fact turned her on. She cursed at herself inside her head before yelling, "Hold your horses, Mom, we're coming!"

Nicole stepped forward. She placed a hand on Vincent's pimpled cheek. "I'm sorry, Vincent. I just get so nervous with you," she said, leaned in, and kissed him. His face was rough from the scabbed pimples and the poorly shaved scruff. Her stomach turned, but she did herself to make it believable. Nicole thought about the contrast in faces she'd kissed over the last few days. Huck's bushy beard, which smelled of stale cigarettes. Janet's soft, smooth girl face, which tasted like strawberries. So many different textures and flavors. Vincent tasted like mint mouthwash.

It was Vincent who broke the kiss. He pulled back and looked at her. He sniffed. "Wow, you reak of pussy. Have you been bathing in it?"

She was mortified. Again. If he could smell Janet on her, surely her parents would, too. She'd need to keep her distance and not allow hugs.

Nicole realized it would blow Vincent's mind if she admitted it was from eating out Janet. "Oh, um, that," she lied. "Sometimes when I masturbate, I like to, uh, rub it all over my face." Okay, maybe it was only a partial lie. She did like to do that when her group asked. And go out in public to do chores. But this was different. It was brunch with her parents and her fake boyfriend.

Vincent grinned. "Hot, you should do that when we go on dates. Instead of perfume."

She resisted shaking her head at the thought of multiple dates with Vincent. Girlfriend experience. "Mmmm, if you'd like that, but, yeah, anyway, mom and dad are waiting." She tried to sound bright and happy, even though total dread was bubbling under the surface.