Chapter 86 – Romancing friends

Ben’s kissing was sweet and soft. It wasn’t hesitating, but it was slow and lingering. It was an offer to get to know him and a desire to get to know me. It was kindness wrapped up in a blanket of puppy love. Sam’s kissing is nothing like that. Sam’s kissing is a dominant and hard. It was fast and barely let me experience any of it before he changed up. It was an exploration of me, as if I were a mountain to a climber or the sea to a diver. He’s finding out about me while I’m just hanging on. It was a passionate declaration that he was in charge, and I was here for his pleasure.

I almost wish I could focus more on the physical expressions of attraction each of my friends is showing me, but I’m still scared and frozen, fearing that they’ll figure out who exactly they’re making out with. And now on top of that fear there’s the worry about what Trixie actually told Sam. That I’m looking for boyfriend material. I guess it could be worse. She could be telling men that I’m looking for a one-night stand.

Robert Palmer’s story of love addition transitions to his big hit about being Simply Irresistible but while there’s a request to cut in, Sam doesn’t acknowledge it. He simply keeps swaying us to the rhythm and aggressively, almost manically, making out with me. I’m not sure how, but without pausing in kissing, Sam at the same time waves someone over. It’s no surprise then when in the middle of Simply Irresistible, Jack slips in and takes Sam’s place.

I don’t even bother trying to resist at this point and simply open up to my good friend Jack, letting him both kiss me and start exploring my soft curvy body. Jack isn’t nearly as aggressive as Sam, but he still leads our lips and actions. He’s as gentle as Ben, but his hands explorations go further than either of the other guys. It’s not until I feel his hand slide up and down my ass a few times that I figure out what he’s doing, but by then it’s too late. Once he gets his fingers centered on the space between my ass cheeks, Jack pulls his waist back and lets my dress relax back into place, which of course gives him enough extra material that his fingers can push in between my cheeks. There’s no way he could have guessed what I had pressed inside of myself back there. He had to have been told, which just adds to what Trixie is telling these men before they end up in my arms. Regardless, once Jack’s fingers find my butt plug, he starts pressing and pulling on it, adding another point of contact. Another erogenous zone starting to light up.

The pleasure coming from back there is thankfully not nearly as powerful as either the nipple stimulators or vibrating panties were earlier today. It’s not even as stimulating as when the plug itself was vibrating. But that’s not to say it isn’t pleasurable to be played with in that way. Jack adds even more stimulation when his other hand cups my breast and starts kneading and squeezing it. At least half of the guys that danced with me tonight at least copped a feel, so I didn’t think anything of it coming from Jack. At least not until his thumb rubbed over my stiffening nipple. Like a heat-seeking missile that found its target, Jack’s fingers don’t leave my nipple. When it’s fully hard and pointy, he changes tactics, pinching and even pulling on it. It causes me to squeal into Jack’s mouth, but I stop myself from backing away as the dance floor was now full. Maybe if I could have taken a couple steps back from him, I’d have tried. But as is, I might only get a few inches between us and that would give Jack ample opportunity to keep playing both with my rear and my front. People would clearly see what he’s doing to my nipple and that alone might be more embarrassing than experiencing the mixture of pain and pleasure pouring out of the tip of my tit.

Jack keeps playing with me, keeping me on edge, keeping me squirming in his arms and screeching into his mouth while the songs mix from one to the next. Tainted Love fades into 1999. Prince fades into Madonna. Holiday fades into You Spin Me Around. But somehow, after all that, after being kissed and teased and danced with for four and a half songs by one of my best friends, it’s the last four minutes that really hit me.

At first, I groaned at the cheesy opening lines. ‘Close your eyes, give me your hand, darling’. Eternal Flame by the Bangles. If there was an 80s song that I really really loved, it would be this. I mean, first every girl in the Bangles is hot. Not just 80s big hair hot, but honestly some of the most attractive women I’ve ever seen. There’s Susanna Hoffs’ voice. It’s both innocent and wise at the same time. You want to both comfort it and let it wash all your pains away. And then there’s the lyrics. When I was a boy and this was played in the house, I’d wonder if this is what real true love would be like. There would be puppy love, flings, romances, loves… and then there would be eternal flames.

But hearing it now, hearing it while I’m dressed up as sexy as can be, showing my cleavage and legs, letting my curves speak for me… hearing it while a man plays with my butt plug and keeps both of my nipples hard as diamonds, basically hearing it as one of the two sexiest women that ever walked into The Barrell… I hear it not from the point of view of a young boy or even a young man just hearing a lovely song. No, I hear it as ME singing to JACK.

‘Do you feel my heart beating?’ Because let me tell you my heart is beating hard enough for both of us.

‘Am I only dreaming?’ I can’t possibly be thinking that Jack and I could be a couple. Can I?

‘I watch you when you’re sleeping’ I’ve watched Jack sleep and he’s always been a good guy. An innocent. A true, loyal friend through and through.

‘Say my name’ Would he call me Paris? If he called me Jamie, would he even mind how I looked?

‘A whole life so lonely, then come and ease the pain’ What I wouldn’t give to have a friend. A real friend who knows me.

‘Is this burning an eternal flame?” Is it? Am I falling for my friend?

When the song ends, Jack slowly pulls away from me. He smooths out my dress behind me and even peeks down to make sure my breasts aren’t peeking out too much. I can only grin, feeling more confused than when Trixie and I walked into this old haunt. Then, I was scared if my friends would recognize me. Make fun of me. Hurt me. But now, now I’m afraid they might not only recognize me, but accept the version of me that I’m presenting. Like some kind of screwball 80s sitcom… Four Guys and one’s a Babe!

When another song doesn’t start up, I take a look around and see that Jack and I are the last ones on the dance floor. Most of the guys in the crowd have returned to their drinking but most of the girls are watching Jack and I with a lovey look in their eyes. They’re seeing Jack and I as a couple, and they’re jealous!

I don’t balk when Jack’s arm slides around my waist and he starts guiding me to their table. To OUR table. I see that Trixie is in one of the seats with Ben and Sam both pulling their chairs close. Jack pulls the last chair out for me before pulling another chair over and sitting right next to me. I realize with a start that sitting here is more than just familiar. It turns out that the chair Jack pulled out for me is MY chair. The one I sat in on countless nights as we all drank together.

While Trixie entertains Ben and Sam, and even keeps Jack’s attention, I try and figure a way out of here. That last dance, the last song, really played a number on me. A mixture of that nervousness when I first got here, that pleasure from having many guys dance with me and all three of my friends make out with me, and the happiness that I see Trixie emoting and naturally I start mimicking. Laughing, giggling. Even lightly tapping Jack on the shoulder just as Trixie does to Sam.

It’s not until Trixie excuses us to the powder room do I recall what we came here for. There’re several women in the restroom of course. I’ve been long accustomed to the social network that forms in lady’s room. From women actually using the toilets… less than I would have thought years ago… and women washing up or re-applying makeup, to small groups of women just hanging out and chatting.

After Trixie and I each use the facilities, we meet back up at the mirror Trixie just has to touch up her makeup while I have to practically wash off and completely re-apply my lipstick and lip gloss. Maybe that’s why I let Trixie speak so much without me interrupting her, “Those three are real catches Paris. I got the chance to dance with them and even chat with them. I told them all that I was taken, but that my good friend over here was looking for a good man. They’re all employed and a quick JudyRecords search showed that none of them have criminal records. They’re polite, friendly, and by the looks of you on the dance floor, they can all make out and kiss. Oh, and they love blow jobs as much as Darnell and were really excited when I told them that you get off by going down on guys!”

I’d long ago given up on trying to convince Trixie that ALL men like getting blow jobs, but I really wish she wouldn’t let random men know that I ‘LIKE’ to give them. Talk about painting a target on my lips! Trixie finished her thought just as I was putting my makeup back in my clutch, “The guys all have to leave fairly early for work in the morning, so I think we should get this show on the road. They told me the alley out back is hardy used and is perfect for a little privacy… so, which one would you like to take back and give a BJ to?”

Even as Trixie is taking my hand and guiding us out of the lady’s room, I find my self sputtering and stuttering as I try to not only get my head around what Trixie said, but how to NOT do it, “what? Wait, no. I mean, uh… what did… no, no, no, no… Trix you can’t just… of course they’d be excited… but…”

Only when we’re a few feet away from the table, with all three guys looking at us, do I finally stop Trixie and pull her close so I can talk into her ear, “Trixie, I can’t give one of those guys a blowjob. It’s… it’s just not right!”

Trixie’s face doesn’t change for a good five seconds as she just stares at me, looking as confused as if I’d just told her that shoe shopping was a waste of time. It’s almost comical to see the lightbulb go off for Trixie, as her whole face lights up as she smiles and giggles, patting my hand in understanding, “Oh gosh, I’m like, sorry Paris. I get it. Leave it to me and I’ll fix us right up!”

Finishing our short trip to the table, Trixie pauses and holds me back from taking my seat again. Instead, she has a sly grin on her face and simply extends her hand and wiggles her finger at the guys in a ‘come hither’ gesture. Without seeing if they follow, Trixie turns us around and starts walking us toward the back of the bar. It only takes me a moment to mentally catch up. Obviously, Trixie had talked to each of the guys about my blow job abilities, so they’re all expecting one of them will get some action tonight. Instead of telling them at the table where it might be embarrassing for me and them, she’s going to take us to the back hallway near the bathroom. It’ll be quieter and more private.

As expected, Trixie takes us back to the bathroom hall, but we see a short line there with several guys waiting. The men’s room door is open with a wet floor sign and considering the men’s room only has two stalls anyway, it’s going to take a long time to get private back here again.

Trixie, ever resourceful, doesn’t miss a beat. We all squeeze past the guys, with most taking good long looks at the two sexy women walking past them, and head to the end of the hall. I almost interrupt Trixie’s trek as she’s turning toward the kitchen door, but while I’m sure we’ll eventually get kicked out, it’d be nice to see where the sausage is made.

Walking into the kitchen my eyes start trying to look at everything all at once. The big fry area where they make their French fries, onion rings, wings, and tenders. The flattop where they make their smashburgers, hash, and cheesesteak. And of course, the long prep table where raw ingredients begin and get end up as wonderful dishes to be served. Before I can even note half the staff watching us walk past, Trixie is opening another door and pulling me through.

Or rather, pulling me out. Into the alley. Behind the bar.

When I stop and turn around, I see that Ben, Sam, and Jack have followed us out. Not only followed us out but closed the door and propped the big garbage can next to it. All three guys turn to look at Trixie and I follow suit. But where the guys are all excited, I’m more than a little worried about what Trixie has in mind.

Trixie doesn’t seem to mind and just smiles at the guys, “Fellas, I have some bad news and some good news. Remember how I told you that I was bad at blow jobs? And that while Paris would have her fun with one of you, I’d help out with another? I know. It sucks that one of you would be left without, but there’s only two of us and there’s three of you.”

I have a brief moment of surprised happiness. My bff may be ditzy at times, but she was willing to go down on a guy to help me out. A task she didn’t even like to do for her boyfriend, she was willing to do just for me! But that happy moment is short lived as Trixie continues, “Well, Paris doesn’t like that idea. She told me it wasn’t right and she wouldn’t blow just one of you.”

My back stiffens and I feel the hairs on the back of my neck all standing up at once. One word. One little word changes “I can’t give one of the guys a blowjob” to “I can’t give JUST one of the guys a blowjob.”

Like a car accident in progress, I couldn’t do anything to stop what was happening. I could simply watch Trixie’s happy demeaner as she ‘helped’ her friend, “So she’s going to take her time and do this right. She’ll give each of you a blow job. So boys, who wants to go first!?”