What kind of dumb question is this

You’re in no frame of mind to say otherwise. “Course you do.”

“Cool. Been thinking about this all day.” She plants her hips against yours, milking your cock with small, circular motions. “Nmph. Let’s do it.”

The sensations are too powerful. You have ****. You cum inside Pearl again.

It feels even better than it did the first time. Pearl sighs when it’s done.

The two of you take a moment to catch your breath and come down from your mutual pleasure-addled high.

Pearl dismounts you and stands, tugging her shirt back into place. You stand as well to redress.

With a quick brush of her fingers, Pearl takes care of a trickle of spunk making its way down her thigh, and wipes it off on the carpet. Then she turns around, stops, and gasps. “Oh my god.”

“What’s wrong?” You turn to follow her gaze.

Zoey’s sitting on the carpet a few feet away, topless, with half her clothes on the floor around her. She struggles to remove her jeans.

The woman hasn’t taken her tennis shoes off, which contributes to the difficulty. She’s freed one foot, and is carefully working the remaining leg of her jeans over her other shoe. To one side, she’s discarded her black blouse and matching bra.

You take a second to appreciate Zoey’s petite chest, slender limbs, and long neck. She looks extra sexy with her side-shaved pixie, eyebrow ring, and little black thong. For a lucky boyfriend, maybe?

Pearl’s eyes bug out. She looks from the open end of the aisle where anyone might chance by, and the half-naked woman. “Are you crazy? Somebody’s going to see you, what the fuck are you doing?”

Zoey finally forces the cuff of her jeans over her shoe, and extracts the foot. “The fuck am I doing? You’re the ones ‘having sex’ or whatever in a bookstore, I’m just getting this clothes shit off me.”

Dismissive of your and Pearl’s gazes, the now pants-free Zoey gets her feet under her so she can slip out of the thong as well. Doing so leaves the clueless woman bare save for a pair of sneakers and socks.

Zoey wipes her hands on her thighs and breathes a sigh of relief. She sports a landing strip of black hair the same shade as her pixie cut, a cute little pussy, and a nice, lean butt that makes you wonder how it’d feel to run your hands over it.

Pearl shoves your chest hard, her breasts jiggling slightly beneath her shirt. “What the fuck do you think you’re looking at?” she accuses, scowling at you. “We’re on a date, Chase, at least pretend like you’re not leering at somebody other than me.”

Oops.