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CHAPTER TWELVE

CHARLIE:

Sorry I didn’t respond last night. I got in at like five in the morning.

LARS & B:

Sounds like an eventful night.

CHARLIE:

It was. Who am I speaking to?

LARS:

Oh sorry, it’s Lars.

CHARLIE:

My Swedish heartthrob! How’s Bjorn?

LARS:

Um…who?

CHARLIE:

Oh, I refer to B as Bjorn. I imagine you guys as two ripped Swedish boys. I envision glorious Viking men.

LARS:

I think most of the Vikings were from Norway, not Sweden.

CHARLIE:

Please just let me have this.

LARS:

Do you have a Viking fetish? Is that it?

CHARLIE:

I didn’t *think* so, but now…

LARS:

You like the idea of being conquered.

CHARLIE:

OMG. I think I do.

LARS:

All right. Let’s say B and I want to do some conquering. How does that play out?

CHARLIE:

Hmmm. Okay. I guess it starts with you kicking down my door and bursting into my bedroom.

LARS:

Do we find you on the bed? At a desk?

CHARLIE:

I’m lying in bed. Naked. Touching myself.

LARS:

We interrupted you getting yourself off?

CHARLIE:

Yes.

LARS:

Were you close?

CHARLIE:

So close.

LARS:

Ah, that’s too bad. Because we don’t let you finish, do we, Charlie? Your orgasm belongs to us now. You try to cover yourself up, but it’s too late. We’ve seen every inch of that hot, tight body. And now you’re at our mercy. I get on the bed with you, holding you down. B gets on his knees at the foot of the bed. Are you fighting us or are you begging for us?

CHARLIE:

Begging.

LARS:

Of course you are. We like to hear you beg. I slide my hand between your legs and hold your pussy open for him.

CHARLIE:

Oh my God.

LARS:

I whisper dirty things in your ear while he’s licking you. Then I shove my fingers in his hair to hold his head between your legs, keeping him there.

LARS:

Babe?

You still there? Don’t you dare leave me now.

CHARLIE:

Sorry. Back. I just had to take off my leggings.

LARS:

Are you touching yourself right now?

CHARLIE:

How can I not be? Are you telling me your dick isn’t hard?

LARS:

Rock-hard. But it’s still safely inside my pants.

CHARLIE:

Take it out. Please.

LARS:

Fuck.

CHARLIE:

Is it out?

LARS:

Yeah.