Handcuffed Rivals

40

When Mark first spotted me, I was leaning against the bedroom door, wearing a poker yet seductive look across my face, catching Kings eyes from behind him.

He tensed, visibly, practically handing me my bride, as if I were a man at the altar waiting for a father to give me his daughter.

The scene was a joke, but I stayed classy and confindent, swinging my hips a little, to show off my natural charisma.

Mark smiled goofly, entering the room while commenting on how good friends he was with King and how he never knew he liked him so much.

I almost laughed but contained my excitement slamming the door in Kings face, slightly pale and maybe a tinsy bit angry. He knew the plan, he knew I like to take things by myself because I can only trust myself. I didn't see a problem there.

Nor did enjoy how high Mark thought of himself, being good friends with King or having such conceit thinking he stood a chance with me.

Turning around, I watched Mark sit on a bed, taking my every bit of exposed skin in account.

"Huh, I never knew you were a bad girl." he talked cliche as I swinged my hips a little more, a music playing from behind the door, giving me a rthym. If it weren't for the noise behind me, I would've puked my guts out at his words, probably already did in my mouth a little but was too concentrated on the dancing.

The plan was to go as far as it needs to get the informations I was looking for. If it meant showing my leg a little, then showing it is.

"I am so bad." I wanted to purr, but couldn't get myself to do it without making it comical, so I kept the pleasurable, minimal noise of my mouth make a seductive atmosphere on its own.

"So bad, I don't know how much I'll handle."

His eyes widened, but lips smiled. It took me off guard a little bit, slowly walking down to his sit-down position. I didn't expect him to crack immediately but he didn't look gay either.

"Let me be the judge of that." he slipped the words slurly, definitely drunk out of his mind. It might be the reason why he was going through with it, not knowing what he indeed was doing.

"I've heard from girls you are pretty good under the sheets." I touched his shoulder and stood in between his legs, listening to the faint music from the party.

He continued to look at me "It's your turn to try it out yourself so you'll know from first hand."

His fingers reached my waist and slowly gripped on it while I turned my hips and turned, gritting my teeth. This wasn't supposed to go like this.
I hate his touch.

"But I like foreplay." I pouted, removing his hand from my waist, in a dancing mode, and left them in the air, then slightly turned around to show off my hips a little bit more. I didn't want him touching me and I wanted him to start telling something, anything.

I was waiting for a crack.

"Do you like it if there's two boys?" I slurred, making eye contact deeply to catch any sign. This time he swallowed hard, trying to appear casual and disinterested. I read that fastly on his colored cheeks.

Pretty insecure for a firm guy as himself, getting all the ladies wanting more, showing off his potential.
I felt in the air I was getting somewhere.

"What do you mean?" he acted aloof, as if it bothered him to share a girl with a friend. Maybe the thing that did bother him was how he'd manage to refrain himself from touching as well, huh, and that touching farly included me.

"You know, you touching a little bit there with him, and I watch? I like to watch." I whispered in his ear, refraining so hard from laughing out loud.