The help

Suddenly, I feel the hands come around me from behind before I hear the voice. Calloused fingers close over my bare breasts, palms cupping the weight of them, thumbs brushing across the sensitive peaks. I inhale sharply, my back arching into the touch on instinct. The bachelor's hands on my hips tighten, and he looks up over my shoulder with a grin that's half drunk, half wolf.

"Just trying to fix the outfit," the guy behind me says, his voice a low rumble near my ear. "Straps slipped. Can't have you falling out, can we?"

I let out a breathy laugh, my head falling back against his shoulder for a moment. The liquor has turned everything syrupy and warm, and the feeling of being passed between them, held and handled, is doing something to me. Something I don't want to examine too closely.

I grind down on the bachelor's lap, letting him feel every inch of me while the guy behind me kneads my chest. The latex has shifted completely now, my breasts fully bare, and I don't reach up to fix it. I just let them look. Let them touch.

"Guess you guys gotta work together to keep me in one piece," I murmur, turning my head just enough to catch the guy behind me's eye. "Hope you're not getting too greedy back there. He paid for the show, after all."

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