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Story: The Loneliest Number
Honey, you know this isn’t my first rodeo. Trust me - I will keep my wits about me. I’ll message you by midnight, so you know I’m safe and hopefully completely zenned out on orgasms at that point.
Laura:
TMI. But also, enjoy!
Before I can lose my nerve, I stride across the hallway to press the doorbell. I’m on full alert, listening for sound on the other side, and hope I’m not about to be kicked out for trespassing. Footsteps approach from the other side, and I draw in a breath while trying to school my features into something pleasant.
The door swings open and a curvy woman wearing the ‘I love men who whimper’ t-shirt stands before me. This must be Saffy. Her auburn hair flows down her back in loose, beachy waves, and there’s a delightful sprinkle of freckles across the bridge of her nose. I meet her green eyes, and they twinkle with what could be delight.
“Hey.” Her voice is breathy and husky, and all I can think about is how good she’ll sound when she’s moaning. She stepstowards me, holding her arms out. “Are you a hugger? Because I am.” She grins, showing off dimples in her cheeks, and her Scottish accent is perfection.
“Usually only with people I know,” I say, but I’m eager to be closer to her, so I add, “But what the hell. Sure.” I step into her embrace and instantly feel cosy as her arms wrap around me.
“I’m Saffy. And I’m guessing you're our unicorn, Pixie?” She grins, showing off perfect white teeth as she closes the door.
“Sure am. And where’s the other person in this equation?” I quirk a brow, trying to peer past her shoulder, but she’s a few inches taller than me and blocking the view.
“Cam’s just inside. This is…” Her voice fades, causing me to look straight at her, trying to get a read on what exactly is going on here. She bites her lip. “It’s a surprise. He doesn’t know you’re coming.”
“Oh,” slips from my lips. “I like everyone involved to consent before we start. Is this the first time you’ve done something like this as a couple?”
Her hand comes up to cover her mouth as she lets loose a husky giggle. “We’re not a couple.”
“I think we’ve got crossed wires then,” I tell her. The vibes don’t feel off, but this isn’t what I expected when I was chatting to her earlier.
“Come in and I’ll explain.” She grabs my hand to tug me inside an open plan kitchen and lounge area. “If you’re not happy with the arrangement, you can leave, but please just hear me out.”
“Saffron, what the fuck are you doing?” comes an agitated, deep Scottish drawl from one of the rooms. I look in the direction it comes from, but the door is closed. I grimace at his tone.
“Just a minute, Cam,” Saffy calls out. “It’s a surprise.”
There’s a quietened sound of cursing, which sounds even better in a Scottish accent.
“He sounds grumpy,” I say with a wince.
“Oh, he is. But together, we can cheer him up.” She steps towards the kitchen island. “Would you like a drink?”
“Just water, thanks.” I rarely drink alcohol in these situations. It pays to keep my wits about me. She takes a glass from a cupboard and fills it from a filter tap before handing it over. I take a sip, looking at her expectantly.
“So, we’re not a proper couple. We’re friends that bang occasionally. We’re both non-monogamous at the moment. Cam’s been having a rubbish time, hence the additional grumpiness. I’m hoping you’ll be willing to help me give him a good time.”
I draw my lips in and try to get a sense from my gut. There are no alarm bells ringing, even with a different arrangement to the one I was expecting when we set this meeting up.
“I think I need to meet Cam, too, and then I’ll decide from there,” I tell Saffy. She nods, and her eyes dart across to the door across the room.
“That seems fair. But he’s a little tied up right now.” Another of her husky giggles slips out. “Literally. How do you feel about meeting him if he’s tied to the bed and blindfolded?”
My eyes bug out. “Is he dressed?”
“Nope, stark bollock naked.”
“Maybe cover him up then, and I’ll talk to him. Is that okay?”
“Aye. Just give me a moment.” She struts across the room and sneaks around the door without pushing it all the way open, meaning I still can’t see him,Dammit.
“It’s fucking Baltic in here, Saff. What the fuck is going on?” Without being able to look at him, I make sure to really listen to his tone. I consider myself strong—the regular weight lifting helps—but my small stature often puts me at a disadvantage with bigger guys. At least until they realise how scrappy I am. I don’t have a problem spending time with bigger guys, and whenI’ve built up some trust, I enjoy it when they can throw me around. But this guy sounds pissed, and he looked huge in the photo Saff posted on the ad.
There’s a murmur of low voices, but I can’t make out what they’re saying. His deep voice blends well with her huskiness. Combine that with the strong Scottish accents, and it makes them hotter. As long as he’s not an arse, that is.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2 (Reading here)
- Page 3
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