Under the rug 1

The backroom of Sarah’s house had a fluffy white rug, one that she had been very protective of at the start of the party. Everyone present had been warned that if they spilt on it they would be licking up their mess for the rest of the night until Sarah was satisfied. Tom had quipped that it always took a lot of licking to satisfy her and the party had moved on like normal, except that no one dared to take any red drinks in that room. Coming to that rug now, you carelessly lift it up by one corner, searching for anything that might have been quickly tossed beneath it. Seeing nothing at your chosen quadrant, you flip the whole thing over, exposing grit, dust bunnies, and a penny, but no planchette.

While you’re searching this first location, the quiet smacking of lips and gentle moans of a passionate make-out session never stop filling your ears. From here it’s impossible to tell who’s kissing who and, though you hope the girls are still just making out with each other, you have a sinking feeling they’re not. “Ooh, you’re a great kisser John Doe,” Sarah moans, dispelling any notions you might have held that they were just putting on a show for him.

“Mmm, and your hands are so big and strong,” Miranda chimes in, while you can only imagine Tom’s hands grabbing her ass or cupping her perfect 36C breasts. “Hey, don’t give me too many hickies!” Miranda giggles. As you listen the only thing you can reliably discern are the girls’ voices, that cut through the silent night air like butter. “Oh? You want to get handsy? Two can play at that game! C’mere!” Sarah cries playfully. “More like three!” Miranda adds. You don’t have to think very hard to imagine what part of him they’re grabbing. “Oh wow,” “Oh my god,” “Th-that can’t be real?” “Tom’s always been hung but, not this hung.” Once more the girls crush your doubts and confirm your worst suspicions. The sound of kissing resumes, but now you know the girls are groping Tom’s cock through his jeans, and you also know that it is infuriatingly big.

“Mmph, hey, move your hand!” Miranda protests, breaking the kiss. For a moment you think she’s complaining about John doe’s groping, but you’re quickly corrected. “You move yours,” Sarah replies, a little out of breath. “There’s plenty for the two of us.” Miranda’s not upset that Tom is touching her too much, she’s upset that she’s not touching his big cock enough. “Y’know, instead of fighting over it, maybe we should do something else with all this dick?” Sarah says, her voice low and seductive. In the quiet that follows you pray to hear the sound of Miranda’s footsteps as she gets up to walk away. John Doe is clearly already distracted by Sarah, and he doesn’t seem like a dangerous threat right now, Miranda could just leave the two of them alone and come help you. “I might be interested in that,” your crush replies. Finding the planchette just got even more urgent.