i wink at stacey as we pass by the concierge desk, arms linked as a threesome. she disguises her envy well and waves back with a lighthearted smile.

i unlink my arms from my place between you and alex as we near the host stand at the entrance to the restaurant.

i look hot in my little red dress and fishnets so it speaks volumes when the host with the name tag can’t take his eyes off of you two boys.

“harboe, party of three," i try to grab his attention with my tone.

“ah yes your table will be ready in 10 minutes ms. harboe,” he drags out the z sound in ms. as he continues to look straight past me. “would your… guests care to have a drink at the bar?”

“yes, we would very much like a drink at the bar, stephan,” you drag out the ahn sound in stephan.

he is literally undressing you with his eyes. and then alex. really, who could blame him.

i imagine it’s quite like me walking past a construction site. on good days it’s a healthy compliment but catch me on a bad day and i want to stab their eyes out.

today’s a good day so you enjoy it. so does alex but with more transparency. he lifts his jacket up over his ass and does a runway turn. a straight guy version of a runway turn, mind you.

i glance over at stacey. she’s giggling uncontrollably. he’s a hit, alright.

i step to him and grab his crotch. “great package and good teeth too,” i wink.

stephan rolls his eyes not quite as amused as the four of us who are now trying to contain ourselves like children in 7th grade sex ed. “right this way please, madam.” he drags out the ahm.

i blow a kiss to our little concierge as we head through the dining area to the bar. there are only two purple plush velvet bar stools empty and you offer me one as stephan high tails it out of there. i sit and you stand with your arm wrapped around my shoulders and gesture to the stool for alex with a very stephanesque flourish.

he sits facing us. the three of us share that quiet moment after a joke. the sexual tension is palpable.

we hear the murmur of other people in the bar over top of the croons of the chairman of the board. the fire crackles in the fireplace. glasses clink and a woman laughs.

“barkeep! two single malts and a couple of rocky patel vintage 1990’s,” i say as i bang on the bar. fuck it. we’re going to make a ruckus one way or another, it might as well be fun.

“and bring the lady a bottle of your finest sparkling water,” you add.

“you know what? you should be sitting down, you’ve had a long day.”

i step down off the stool and lean a bit too far into alex. you squeeze in behind me and stand there a little too long.

i stare into his dark eyes, my hands on his knees. his eyes drop to my cleavage, mine to his cock. i feel your breath on the nape of my neck and the warmth of your body behind me. you finally sit down, grab my hips and ease me back to rest my ass on the edge of the bar stool between your legs.

the whole dance lasts less than 30 seconds but i feel violated and fulfilled and a little out of breath…

kali is up for any kind of fun as long as it doesn't involve drarves

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