The Birthday Girl Pt. 02

"If I walk away, I'd never be able to look you in the eye anyway," he said, giving me a gutted smile. "Is it alright?"

I opened the door, moving with it until my back was against the wall, then I arched it, sick me—just to make him stare. His fixed eyes couldn't tear themselves away from my sharpened nipples until his head couldn't turn back any further. He saw Ethan and Jamie still sitting in their places and wouldn't quite look them in the eyes, from what I could gather. I closed the door and walked back to them, my hand rubbing over my taut belly since I had nothing but my boots and panties left, no loose clothing or pockets to keep my fingers busy.

I wasn't sure where to pick up. I touched Jamie's leg closest to me, finding it firm enough, and I sat on it, which allowed me to face Ethan, right in front of me, and Kyle, who had taken his old seat on the couch. As weird as it was having my co-worker right there in front of me, I think Kyle left me feeling more perverse, the guy in the back of the club who might be thinking of fucking me or stalking me. His expression was uncertain, hidden, and I was guessing he might be hating me or himself for his being here. He kept his hand bridged above his eyes like a visor, but not blocking out the sun, merely giving some shadow to his eyes like he didn't want me to see them.

My eyes fell to Ethan's tented groin, and a slight curl appeared at the corner of my mouth. At the same time, I shivered when both of Jamie's hands covered my breasts. His first touches were fleeting, grazing, brushing my nipples or lifting the weightiest parts of my breasts, escalating to pressing them gently, but as my breath started to race, he was pulling, squashing, pinching and twisting my nipples, displaying all the delicacy of a tourist late for his plane trying to pack his stubborn suitcase. I whimpered, feeling mauled and pleasured at the same time. My legs were spread far apart, my thighs as close to a perfect right angle as I could get them, and in that moment I felt as if my thong would make a loud splash when it finally hit the ground.

My hand ran down Jamie's chest and I felt the considerable lump in his slacks against my palm. I pressed, rocked my hand back and forth, and then defined the strengthening shape through the material with my fingers. Matching my movements, my pelvis was sliding to and fro on Jamie's thigh. I stopped breathing for a second then gasped, feeling my climax wouldn't arrive until I had more stimulation. My shaking fingers found his zipper and worked it down against my own nervous efforts to look sexy. I checked Ethan and Kyle, found their faces stone expressions of desire, then looked to the end of my shoulder, where Jamie's eyes were meeting mine.

Inside his pants, my fingers wrestled away his briefs and it happened—my hand was touching his cock. It practically burned my skin, red hot as it flushed with blood, ridges presenting themselves to my touch, making me only wonder all the more what it looked like. I looked back to Ethan and Kyle, maybe waiting for them to protest as I pried it from Jamie's clothes. I looked down, just on the other side of my left breast, and I laid eyes on it for the first time. It was beautiful, thick and firm but somehow still getting harder, a color closer to red than white in its swollen state, curving upward slightly, aimed for the other wall and not quite the ceiling.

My fingers wrapped around it like it was an emergency brake, but I had no intention of stopping us. I pressed back into Jamie, muttered for him to take his shirt off, and for those few seconds, I forgot Ethan and Kyle were in the room with us—until I saw them again. While Kyle hadn't moved from the couch, and watched with the same silent intensity and guilt, Ethan had shoved his hand down his pants and was treating himself.

"Don't tell me the lapdance is over," he said in a husky breath.

Jamie's other hand pulled back the band of my panties and let them snap back on me. I grinned from the surprise, then let him go long enough to stand up. When he reached out to help me take them off, I swatted his hand away.

"I'd like to do it myself this time."

With my thighs pressed together, I peeled my panties down with my thumbs by their bands, the material between my legs clinging in a way that made me blush harder. Red marks were left on my hips from the lines of my thong, all the more noticeable when I was completely exposed to them, in only my black boots and a pair of thin silver necklaces I seldom took off. The lips between my legs were nearly as red as those under my nose, and all the wetter. Even under these lights, it was obvious I was in the mood for a ravenous fucking; how did I ever do this in public? Everyone in that club must have known what I wanted.

"Goddamn beautiful," said Ethan. I felt Jamie shake a cheek of my ass and I looked back at him with a smile. I wriggled for him a bit, thrilling at his touch. I didn't want to look at Kyle, to see his doubts. I had all of the same doubts, and if I had bothered to stop and think about it, I wouldn't have gone any further.

"How far are we going to go here?" asked Jamie, and I felt put on the spot to have to say it out loud.

I brushed a few locks of brown hair aside my ear. "Do you... does anyone have any condoms?"

That left everyone in dizzying silence. I looked to Kyle, I could see him swallow hard, but he didn't do anything to make himself noticeable. As Jamie started to say something, Ethan answered.

"I've got, I don't know... one. Maybe two."

Jamie only said quietly, "I could go to the store... if you want."

I looked at Kyle. I didn't know what brought him back, but I knew what left him so tense. If I stopped this for any reason, even ten seconds to throw cold water on my face, this all would have come to a stop. It would never get back to this, and I would feel like I'd never live it down.

"I'd rather do it without condoms," I said, unable to recognize my own voice. I had been on the pill since a pregnancy scare at 18, but never completely trusted it with most guys. All the same, I gave my three friends a sheepish smile and told them something I had never admitted to my girlfriends: "I like the way it feels better without."

Ethan continued to fight with the lead in his pants, to the point where it almost aggravated me, and since I estimated my dance had come to its end, I lowered myself to my knees and began to assist his cock's escape. It was thick, as perfectly round as any could get, darker than Jamie's to match the shade of Ethan's skin, and circumcised, like my last boyfriend's. But I instantly liked Ethan's better. Before I had a chance to think through what I was doing, I lowered my head and had the bulbous glans between my lips; I sucked sharply, three quick vacuums between my cheeks, and Ethan squeaked in the funniest way. I raised my head again, smiling at him. I had meant to make Jamie my first of the three of them, but the moment seized me. I brought my head down again, tasting his lubricant on the cap of his cock. I'm not sure why I was blowing him, as stupid as that might sound. It was little more than a greeting to this new part of my old friend. I took him into my mouth entirely. I don't know what guys feel at that moment, but I think of it as complete vulnerability; no matter how degrading some of them might think a blowjob is, he has to realize at that moment that pain or pleasure are all mine to control.

I sucked—hard. I had rarely given such an effort to coaxing a reaction out of a man. My first boyfriend had talked me into sucking his dick on four different occasions, but after he refused to go down on me the last time, I never bothered with him again. I carried away a resentment of oral sex, performing it at any rate, that lasted with me until I was naked in front of my three friends and pleasuring them. My previous boyfriend had helped make me more adventurous after a couple of guys who preferred to be dominant in the bedroom, but I never realized how much fun giving head could be until that night. My mouth was so wet that I couldn't tell how much of it was my saliva or Ethan's juice. I was bobbing up and down on him when I felt Jamie get down on his knees behind me. What an incredible feeling it was, his bare chest, as hairless as my own skin, pressing against my back, every indentation of his body easy for me to make out, his breath on my shoulder blade, his blazing cock resting on the back of my hip. His hands found my thighs and grasped them roughly, and I had to remove Ethan from my mouth just to exhale a shuddering breath.

I backed off of Ethan and concentrated on pressing into Jamie. It hit me as I did so that I was touching him because I wanted it, without considering what the three of them wanted. All of my sexual life I had been preoccupied, even obsessed, with making my partner feel his best, and it was a radical concept I was awaking to that I would be in this for my pleasure. Jamie's dick rode at the top of my ass, some of his girth sunk in the cheeks, and I rubbed against him as the most perverse thoughts came into my head. I wanted him inside me, stretching me, whether it was my mouth, my pussy, or my ass, but at the same time I was reluctant to start anything more serious out of fear it would end too soon. I could have stayed there all night with his body pressed to mine, if allowed.

Jamie didn't let me. He rose to his feet, urging me with him, and when I stood I turned and pressed my breasts into his chest, delighting at the feel. I could make out the shape of his own erect nipples, somewhere within my mountains of flesh; I grinned up at him, dizzy with my own lust. He whirled me around as if we were slow-dancing, but dropped me into the chair where he had sat. I saw Ethan stand up, finishing taking off his clothes.

Kyle continued to sit in the corner, nothing more than an observer to our hedonism.

The hands on my knees levered apart my thighs, moving them wide, past Playboy and into Hustler territory. I smiled with peaking embarrassment as all three sets of eyes found the same hidden flesh. I looked up to Jamie wearing a smirk.

"Your fans want to see everything," he said in a breathy whisper. "Will you spread your pussy for us, Butterfly?"

The vulgarity of my nickname only struck me then, but I couldn't stop smiling, even as I felt irretrievably close to an orgasm. This Jamie was the one from my wettest dreams, not the same guy who backed his car into mine while high on pot and trying to leave my apartment one Saturday night, not the same guy who shared all those lame Geico memes on Facebook; this was the man I fantasized about filling me with his cum.

My fingers slid down the "V" between my thighs and found my sensitive, puffy lips, then parted them for these witnesses.

"Hold it there," said Jamie, dropping to one knee as if about to propose, his eyes latching onto me. His fingers rubbed across me, his thumb planting itself just aside my clit. His mouth moved in, his breath coming out to meet me first.

Three times his tongue lapped at me, enflaming my susceptible parts, then he dove in and I went tight all over as if my whole body had a charley horse.

"Unh... fuck... oh, fuck..." I squealed. I heard someone laugh. I would have to make sure I took some revenge for that later.

His tongue slithered between my lips, swatting back and forth as if it were a serpent trying to find a comfortable place to nest, then he popped in and out of me to drive me crazier. I squeezed my eyes shut and pushed my pelvis into his face while my back seemed to want to retreat into the chair. I was hearing sounds come out of my mouth, high- and low-pitched alike, that I wouldn't have recognized as mine. Jamie's tongue tagged my clit directly for the first time, not a brush but a surgical hit, and I boxed one of his delicious cheekbones as I jerked my right leg up in surprise; I laughed apologetically, but he wasn't dissuaded from his work. I looked past him for the first time in minutes and saw Kyle, no longer perfectly still but rubbing himself only through his jeans, but I found myself more distracted by Ethan.

My co-worker at Top Shelf had lent me a digital video camera last weekend for my birthday night out with the girls and he must have found it sitting by my computer—it was turned on, in his left hand, the red light recording my undisguised arousal as Jamie fed on my naked body. The two of us stared at each other, dark brown eyes glaring at his Cyclops camera eye.

"That's for me... and only me," I warned him, and I saw him give a nod in reply. This was crazy, I knew, even if the camera never left the house—but I had discovered how much I liked being watched, and my certainty in that discovery made me more than a little curious to see myself. This night might be better off forgotten, I knew, and if it was, I at least wanted a chance to relive it once before deleting the file.

I thrust myself at Jamie's face a few more times, making embarrassing cooing sounds—I've always been a vocal lover, my boyfriends except for Brent all making me feel ridiculous for it, but when Jamie's hands squeezed my legs tighter, I didn't feel ashamed of them. I grunted a couple of times, feeling my skin on fire, and I warned him I was about to cum. I tried to push him away, but he ground his lips and chin harder into me, digging his tongue upward toward my G-spot, and I yelped, then moaned like a trombone hitting a long note, and he was smeared with my discharge. My shaky fingers brushed the hair back from his forehead as he kept on, wishing he could give me a moment to just breathe.

Ethan knelt aside the chair and massaged one tit while his mouth kissed my shoulder as I came back down, his camera hovering just above his shoulder as his hand guided it toward my face. I tensed all over again while Jamie blew a cool breath on my damp pussy. Then he climbed up over my body, his face an inch from mine, and I could see droplets of my moisture on his lips. He was waiting for me to refuse him. I hadn't considered how intimate this really was until his face and mine were so close.

I stretched out my tongue, dabbing up the drops, then I bent my head, leaned in, and kissed Jamie for the first time. My tongue, feeling cracked and dry from all the breaths rushing over it, met his, slimy and soaked from its adventures south of my navel. I glanced toward the camera and looked away, flushing a deeper red.

Jamie's hand was between us, his fingers molding to my pussy, refusing to let it contract again, keeping the door open.

"Should I?"

"God, I'll kill you if you don't," I told him, smiling weakly.

Against my own wishes, Ethan found a pocket where the light poured in and snuck his camera closer to watch as Jamie arranged himself, his genitals making first contact with mine. The underside of his fat prick lay on my mound, scraped by the faintest of stubble that had grown back in since my last shave; the ridiculous thought came to me that Ethan's camera would probably be able to pick it up in that 720p that he boasted about. I smiled, giggled, but then shook my head when Jamie checked if I was alright. I reached down and took his cock like I had the right, backed him away, kissed it with my slick nether lips as I ran it up and down their length, then let him part me a little further with his fingers as I swallowed him up. That wide hammer on the end seemed preposterously bigger when I felt him open me, then it cleaved deeper, making me suck in three breaths to calm myself, and I writhed under him until I felt I had adjusted. He wasn't abnormally big, at least the shaft itself wasn't, but the end of it seemed like a part borrowed from a different animal.

When he began to pump in and out, I croaked out in a broken voice and laughed at my own pleasure. I was a bundle of fried nerves all of a sudden, lightning shooting to every part of my body, and it was only made more intense thinking about the fact this was Jamie. He and I were together, just as I had always pictured it—except for the witnesses and the movie we were suddenly making.

"Goddamn, you're so... fuck! Fuck, it's... aw, shit..."

If I had hoped for more poetic words, I wasn't getting them at that moment. He drew back out of me and I was instantly aware from the warmth and wetness that he had cum inside me. I looked down and found it leaking out. I don't think we had made three minutes yet, nothing I hadn't experienced before, certainly not the worst, but I could tell he was embarrassed.

"Shit, that wasn't... sorry," he said, laughing at himself. I stroked the side of his face. "Nah... I've done better, you know."

"That's fine," I told him, and I meant it. He would have to crumble a lot more in my eyes before I lost my crush on him.

"I've been staring at you all goddamned night," he said, giving me another compromised smile. "I'm lucky I made it home from the bar without bursting."

He pushed Ethan's camera back to me, gently, but obviously none too pleased with being recorded right then. I pushed to edge of the chair, ignoring the semen staining the upholstery—that would need a little club soda later—and I took his drifting cock in my hand, pumping it a few more times.

"If you don't mind sharing me... I've got a couple more friends to entertain," I said quietly to him. "But I want to meet you back here in a few minutes for the rematch."

After kissing Jamie a last time and standing up, I was a little lost for what I should do. His climax was leaking down my thighs, and I had a feeling it wasn't too inviting for Kyle or Ethan, but I had no intention of leaving them on the sidelines. I went into the kitchen, Ethan trailing after me with the goddamned camera, which I did kind of like even if I wouldn't cop to it, and I wet a dish towel. I began to clean myself, sinking the towel on my fingers into my pussy and doing the best job I could without a shower or bath. I looked back at Ethan and shook my head, smirking.

"I hope this is good enough... I guess I can excuse myself to the bathroom if you're grossed out—"

"Jesus, Felicia, you have to know I would stick my dick into a thorn bush if you were on the other side of it."

It was a compliment that seemed sweet at the moment, undoubtedly crass on any other day of our relationship. I could hear over the running water Jamie and Kyle talking in hushed voices out in the living room. My paranoia told me they were saying horrible things about me behind my back, laughing with each other at what a slut I was, lining up all the friends they would brag about this to, pass my name and reputation around as they were about to pass around my body. Some part of me didn't care. This was for me more than them, satisfying some fantasies I had never let come to the light. But I also didn't want to believe that of my friends, that they would be two-faced archetypal alpha male bastards—and I wasn't ready to believe it. They were just as likely talking about how they had dreamed of this, how beautiful my body was, and Jamie was bragging about how he had never been reduced to a bursting orgasm so quickly by any other woman.

I stepped back out into the living room, squeezing the soaked towel against my body until rivulets of cold water ran over my steely nipples. Ethan continued to walk behind me, recording me for his fake documentary, and I gave Jamie another comforting wink on my way to Kyle. My reluctant friend took his hands off the lump in his pants as if I hadn't seen him the whole time. As if I wasn't the one standing entirely nude in front of him.

"Are you joining us? ...Or just here to watch?"

"I don't, uh..." He didn't finish his answer, staring at my breasts until he had me staring at them, too. The first time I had taken my clothes off for a boyfriend, I had actually been humiliated for someone else to see how big they were. I always doubted liked them, they felt like sex toys for some partner, and at that age, I never wanted to embrace my sexuality. In that moment, Saturday rolling into Sunday morning, I was proud to have these perfect, bounteous, overflowing, yes, huge tits... for my pleasure as much as theirs.