Amy’s infatuation for the man was obvious from the clothing she selected for her first visit to his home. She pulled on a white T-shirt that advertised her luscious breasts much more effectively than it covered them. It clung to them like paint and showed not only that her boobs were full and shapely, it left no doubt as to the condition of her nipples.
Rachel thought the top was bad enough, but it was the skirt Amy chose that had given Rachel a fit while they were getting dressed. She watched Amy wriggle into a short red crinkle broom skirt that barely hid her shapely bottom, in fact it didn’t if she bent over or spun quickly, a move Amy had perfected in several years of ballet classes.
“Omigod, Amy!” Rachel had said, noticing the lack of underwear and being very familiar with Amy’s marshy wetness, “Seriously, you’re wearing that skirt without panties? The way you gush over him you’ll be dripping your DNA all over his house.”
“I hope he notices,” Amy replied as she did her lipstick.
A shy and proper girl, Rachel dressed modestly, wearing panties and bra under white shorts and a blue short-sleeve cotton blouse. She was concerned that Amy’s infatuation might cloud her judgment. “Where do you see this going tonight, Amy?”
“Gee, Rach. I sure hope it goes somewhere, don’t you?”
“Not really. Please don’t drag me into whatever you’re planning.”
“I’m not planning anything. Let’s just wait to see how it goes.”
Rachel frowned. “I’m only going because I don’t think you should be alone with him. We don’t know anything about him.”
Amy took Rachel’s hands. She said, “You’re so sweet, protecting me—or are you jealous?” She embraced Rachel. “Don’t be jealous. I love you very much.” They kissed.
“I love you too. I just don’t want anything bad to happen to you,” Rachel said. When it was time to go they walked barefoot on the beach from their house to Robert Bissett’s, holding hands, carrying their sandals.
Looking like part of the decor in white trousers and white Polo shirt, Robert Bissett welcomed them in French. “Bienvenue chez moi, Mesdemoiselles! Welcome." He kissed their hands, winked at Amy, and escorted them to the dining room.
He seated them at the large glass dining table and filled three goblets from a bottle of chilled Sauvignon Blanc. He raised his glass and toasted them. “To my beautiful neighbors,” he said. Besides the wine, three place settings, a large bowl of salad, and chafing dishes containing a lobster dish and rice pilaf were ready on the table.
As they ate Rachel concealed her amusement at the way Amy flirted openly with Robert. He seemed to enjoy it. Rachel hoped he wouldn’t take advantage of Amy’s crush.
Halfway through dinner and her second glass of wine Amy felt giddy. “This meal is wonderful, Robert,” she said, pronouncing his name Ro-behr, the French way. “You’re an excellent cook.”
“Thank you, Cher. I like to cook, it’s one of my hobbies. I’m glad you like it.”
“I never had lobster cooked this way. What do you call it?” Rachel said.
“It’s called ‘Lobster a l’Americaine’, an old French recipe, one of my favorites.”
The wine made Amy bold. She tilted her head coyly and said, “Is watching one of your hobbies, too, Robert?”
Rachel blushed and nearly choked.
He laughed. “You knew I was watching, eh? I thought you might have seen me. But I couldn’t look away. You, dear Rachel, with the tiny vibrator were enchanting.”
“Omigod, I forgot about that,” Rachel said, covering her mouth as her blushed deepened.
“Amy, you teased me and then you went into the house. Why did you stop?”
“Rachel, she invited me to come in to . . . ”
“Yes? To what?” he said.
“To play,” Amy said, smiling knowingly at Rachel.
“Don’t be coy, please. What exactly did you do with Rachel?” He poured more wine.
“Rachel . . . we made love.” She grinned at Rachel. “It was wonderful.”
“Ah. So you have masturbated together and, as you say, gone down on each other?”
“Yes,” Amy said.
Robert looked thoughtful. “You are very open about it. Nothing else?”
“What do you mean?” Amy said.
“You’re lovers, of course. You’re a beautiful young woman, Amy, and you too, Rachel. You make me wish I were young again, but I am a great deal older, so . . . ” He trailed off and sat back in his chair. “But perhaps we can have some little fun, if you are willing? Have you ever thought of trying more serious activities?”
Amy raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean, more serious?” she said, thinking they could only get more serious if one of them had a cock.
He leaned forward and placed his elbows on the table. “Well, I’m referring to the power dynamics of sexual activities. When you two are together I think you share power about equally, so neither of you is dominating the other. I’m suggesting that you might experiment with role-playing—dominant and submissive.”
Amy looked at him wide-eyed. “Bondage? I’ve read about it on the internet,” she said.
Rachel, wide-eyed and open-mouthed said, “You want to tie us up?”
Amy, turned on by the thought of Robert trussing her up, frowned at her. “Chill, Rach.”
“No, no,” Robert shook his head, amused by Rachel’s alarm. “I’m suggesting this for you two, not for me. If erotic role-playing appeals to you, if you would like to try it, I know a little about it. I can coach you if you like,” he said, “and watch if you don’t mind.”
He seemed to be waiting for one of them to speak, but neither did. Rachel hugged herself, uncertain how to respond, deferring to Amy, willing to let her decide. Amy looked at her, questioning with raised eyebrows. Rachel could only return a frightened stare.
“Oh, come on, Rach. Let’s try it. It might be fun,” Amy said.
“Will it hurt?”
They both looked to Robert, like students waiting to hear their assignment. “No, no. It does not require pain,” he said. “It’s about power and control.”
Rachel bit her lower lip. “Well, okay, I guess. If Amy wants to.”
“Okay!” he said, with a clap of his hands. “Now, which of you is more dominant?”
Rachel said, “She is. She always suggests things.” She turned to Amy, “Well, you are, aren’t you?”
“I guess I am, most of the time,” Amy said.
Robert smiled at Amy. “Se we’ll reverse roles. Let Rachel dominate, Amy, and allow yourself to discover the feel of surrendering to her. Will you?”
Amy gazed at Rachel, recalling the pleasure of surrendering to that mouth, the Cupid’s bow lips and versatile tongue—she drives me crazy with her mouth—and wondered what Rachel was thinking.