Chapter 17
When Sam and Tommy arrived, only minutes later, they were without dates, but that didn't bother Toby. The way she was feeling, she'd have been glad to entertain the whole group herself. But she had a feeling that blonde Betsy would be willing to do a share of the entertaining, no matter how things worked out. Toby was very curious to see how things did work out, if they did at all. How the ice would be broken, and by whom.
She just sat back, her luscious legs crossed, and sipped her drink, and watched, an interested spectator. A very interested spectator, with a case of the mounting hornies.
Once they were settled in chairs around the room, Toby noticed with pleased amusement that the boys couldn't decide on whom to stare at, her or Betsy. Their eyes drank her in, then switched hungrily to Betsy, then came back to her. They were aware of Roy's older, inhibiting presence, but only dimly. They never looked at him. They'd all met him before, and that was that. Roy was openly amused.
"You know something, Roy?" Steve said, tearing his eyes away from Toby to look over at his uncle. "What?"
"These are the two best-looking girls I've ever seen in one room at the same time."
"They're the two best-looking girls I've ever seen in the same room at the same time," Roy said, "and I've been in a lot more rooms with a lot more women than you've ever thought of."
"I bet you have," Toby said, but she smiled when she said it.
"Only one thing wrong with this pair," Roy said.
"I can't see a thing wrong with them," Kevin said. It was the first time he'd spoken, Toby realized, since he'd made the introductions right after she'd gotten there.
"There is, though. They're wearing too many clothes."
So, Toby thought. He wasn't going to be a wet blanket, after all. He was going to be the icebreaker.
Toby looked over at Betsy. Betsy looked back at her, and winked broadly. She got up then, and came over and sat down on the couch beside Toby. As the tall girl had stood up, Toby had gotten a fleeting glimpse, between her briefly opened thighs, of dark-blonde hair. Smart girl, Toby thought. She wasn't wearing pants either. Toby had whisked hers off in the cab. The driver, admiring her in the rearview mirror, had gone through a red light.
"You think were wearing too many clothes, do you, Roy?" Toby asked. The urge to tease was rising strongly in her, now. Magnified by the excitement of having all that healthy, horny young male meat in the same room with her. With her and with Betsy, of course. Share and share alike, she thought, magnanimously.
"I do," Roy said.
"Let's see what the boys think," Toby said, making a vaguely commanding gesture with her hand, the one without the drink in it. She and Betsy were sitting side by side on the couch, with their knees primly together but their legs, Toby's deliciously tanned and Betsy's delicately white, with their brief skirts up around their hips, completely and spectacularly on open display.
As if in complete understanding of Toby's vague hand-signal, the boys slid from their chairs to the floor, moving crabwise to seat themselves on the carpet where they could look toward the girls at an upward angle. They reminded Toby at that moment of even younger teenagers, trying to see up imder the skirts of the girls in the grandstand at high school football games. From the expressions on their faces, Toby thought, their mouths should have been open, but they were too sophisticated, after the other night anyway, for any such display.
Toby turned her head to look at Betsy, and saw-that Betsy was looking at her. As if they'd rehearsed the move, then, in precise synchronization, like a pair of incredibly sensuous, horny
Rockettes, they let their knees come apart, and slowly, casually, freely flaunting their legs, opened their thighs deliberately, teasingly, and raised their knees and very slowly and casually crossed their legs, letting their willing pussies pout pinkly at the boys.
"Holy good Jesus Christ," Steve said. "I need another beer."
"Me, too," Tommy said.
"Me, too," Sam said.
"I need some Scotch," Kevin said.
"Me, too," Roy said, "even though I can't see what's going on." From his chair off to one side, he couldn't see what the boys had seen. But Toby knew damn well he knew what they'd seen.
"I'll get the drinks," Toby said, uncrossing her legs tantalizingly, openly, in teasingly slow motion. As she straightened up, she let the front hem of her skirt cling lingeringly at the soft swell of her lower belly, where it curved in toward her cunt, giving the boys a more leisurely look at her moistening, pinkly parted twat.
As she moved toward the bar, letting her hips sway, the globes of her ass joggle temptingly, Toby heard Betsy suggesting that the boys get out of some of their clothes, it was such a warm evening. Out of some of their clothes, and into the spirit of things. They were all too formal, Betsy told them. Betsy was tight, Toby knew, but not so tight that she didn't know how to get things moving, now that Roy had made his move to break the ice.
When Toby turned from the bar with a tray of drinks, the boys were all sitting on the rug in their undershorts, poked out grotesquely at varying angles.
"You all look much more comfortable now," Toby said, "except for Roy." Roy was still fully clothed. Some kind of modesty, in front of these kids, Toby thought. Oh, well. No sense fretting about Roy. He was old enough to take care of himself, when the time came.
Toby moved around the room, handing out drinks. She noticed that the boys made her bend a little when she handed them their beers, making it possible for the others to get a fairly satisfying glimpse up her miniskirt in back, of the fur-framed moist magnet of her tender, inviting cunt. The realization excited her, and she deliberately bent a little further than was necessary, held each bent-over pose a cock-throb longer, letting their eyes feast on the soft pink promise of her openly pouting pussy.
But the only one to slide a hand up her inner thigh and slip a finger between the damp outer lips of her twat was Steve. She stepped back as his finger started to slide up inside her wet, willing cunt, and looked at him sternly, like a teacher with a bold student.
"Now, Steve," she said. "Mustn't touch. Time for that, maybe, a little later."
"I'm just impetuous," Steve said.
Betsy diverted their attention then.
"You're missing a lot, Roy," she said, "sitting over there."
"I'm what's known as an innocent bystander," Roy said. "Or by-sitter."
"Would you like me to show you what you're missing?" Betsy asked. "Do a little informal modeling for you?"
"Love it."
What's the girl up to, Toby wondered? She didn't have long to wonder.
Betsy swayed to the far end of the room, turned around in a model's twirl, and lifted the front hem of her skirt, delicately, with the tips of her fingers.
The boys stared. So did Roy, obviously fascinated, Toby supposed, by the coppery, silken blonde luxuriance of the rich growth of hair along the pink slash of Betsy's visibly moist, tantalizingly tender-looking twat, the lips swelling now, parted slightly in a stoningly pink, petulant pout. God, Toby thought, Betsy's neat, glistening cunt looked so dewy-fresh, so tender and warm, so small, so young. So invitingly edible.
She saw Roy's tongue come out, without his being aware of it. Toby was sure, and lick his lips. Betsy didn't miss the tongue's hint, and she did a tiny little bump, lifting her open-lipped little dream of a cunt into up-thrust, beckoning, pouting pink prominence.
"like my pussy, Roy?" she asked, with a small, teasing smile on her moist, soft mouth. "like the looks of my hot little twat? My juicy, warm, slippery, sucking, cock-loving cunt?"
"Love the looks of your hot little twat," Roy said, licking his lips again. "Your tight little cunt."
Tight? Toby thought, and suppressed a laugh. Tight, my ass.
But she stared at Betsy's open cunt, fascinated almost as much as Roy and the boys. The deep vibrant pinkness of the girl's twat and the coppery-blonde sheen of the soft silken hair framing it were made brighter, more startling, by contrast with the whiteness of the skin of Betsy's soft, slender, rounded ripe thighs, her long, curving lower belly.
"Would you like to lick my cunt, Roy?" Betsy asked. "Taste my pussy? Taste my twat to find out if it's as tasty as it looks?"
"It looks downright delicious," Roy said.
Betsy started walking toward him, holding up the front hem of her dress, keeping her pussy on display. The walk, Toby noticed, was perfect. A slow-motion version of a model's slinky strut, and Betsy was executing it one step at a time, beaming a bright lewd smile at the boys with each step.
Without taking his eyes from Betsy's twat, Roy started taking off his clothes, moving much more swiftly than the blonde girl's advance toward him. He was down to his shorts by the time she got there, and stopped, her up-thrust, open pink slit in its rich blonde muff only a few inches away from his face.
"Kiss it hello," Betsy said.
Dammit, Toby thought. She'd used those very words, with somebody now in the room, only the other day.
Toby watched as Roy leaned forward, like a man in a dream, extended his tongue, and began to lick up and down between the open lips of Betsy's inviting delicacy of a cunt. Betsy's hips began to undulate, pushing her tender flesh-feast eagerly against Roy's cunt-hungry mouth.
She watched, fascinated, as Roy's tongue extended into the vibrant pink glory of Betsy's open, glistening, lust-wet cunt. Betsy's head was thrown back, her mouth open, her eyes closed.
"Oh, God," Betsy said suddenly, and stepped back. "I don't want to come like this."
Roy's tongue was left lapping air.