He’d teased her sex nearly to the breaking point; now he approached her clit. But Brad slowed before he reached it. He circled his fingertip around it, brushing against the outside of her hood, but coming closer in maddeningly spiraling circles. It kept touching her more and more, but not truly touching her.

Max whimpered in frustration. Brad kissed her reassuringly. She knew he would take care of her. But why did it have to be after she waited?

“You like being a whore?” Brad asked her. “A bad girl?”

“You like fucking bad girls?” Max retorted. “Who’s your favorite, big boy: me or Caroline?”

His fingertip finally reached her, aching and hugely swollen. Max’s eyes shut, closing off the ecstatic shine in the middle of her irises. She managed to get them half-open, looking at Brad through a lascivious gaze.

“I don’t need to play favorites. You’re both mine.”

Max gyrated her hips, rubbing herself on his finger, masturbating her clit. The pleasure was like a drug–too good to quit. She could only be its slave. A happy, happy slave.

“Oh yes! Yes, Brad, rub it! Rub my clit! OHHH, it feels GOOD! YES! YES! FUCK YES! Don’t stop! I like being a whore! Don’t ever stop treating me like a whore!”

Even Brad’s self-control could only take so much. His cock was about to explode. It throbbed, gigantic and seething inside his pants. Its bulk strained at his zipper. It wanted to be out, and more than that, it wanted to be buried in something hot and tight.

And Max couldn’t forget it when she pressed against him, feeling its sheer size–its insatiable need–denting her soft belly. Her breath caught. She looked up into the cold rage of Brad’s eyes. A rage not directed at her, but at the denial he had to practice.

Max’s voice dipped far below the shrill cry it had been. “I am yours,” she whispered. Though a nagging voice remained between her and her desperate desire to provoke Brad into fucking her right through the floorboards. “As long as you take good care of Caroline, I’m yours.”

As if on cue, Caroline emerged from the kitchen, carrying her pot roast to the dining table. “Dinner is served!” she trilled, long legs flashing all the way to her seat at the head of the table.

Brad let go of Max, giving her hip a little pat as he straightened her dress over her wet cunt, her sweaty ass, her tangled panties. “Wanna sit on my lap?” he whispered to her.

“Not sure there’s room for me and all that cock you’ve got.”

“I could make room,” Brad suggested, giving Max’s skirt a last little pluck so it fell smoothly all the way to her thighs.

“Make room for Caroline. She’s been a good girl,” Max emphasized, gonna take her seat. And still not sure whether she or her friend was Brad’s favorite.

He’d used her first, but did that prove anything or was it just that she was the whore he categorized her as? It’d be a lot easier to play with a whore than the good girl Caroline was… maybe.

And Max didn’t even know why she cared. She didn’t care. She cared about Caroline. She was being a good friend to Caroline–helping her keep her man happy–and going down on her sometimes.

Maybe she was a whore, and not just for sexy fun time.

Maybe she was a lesbian. Though she certainly hadn’t been thinking of Caroline when her panties had gotten into the damp state they were in now. Although, technically, she had, but she was just trying to remind Brad that Caroline was a romantic one, she wouldn’t want all the porn stuff that worked on Max.

Good friend. Bad girl. All Max knew for sure was that she needed to open the wine Brad had brought.

Grabbing hold of it, she got her teeth into the cork and pulled.

***

Seeing Max pop it right out of the bottleneck, Caroline shared a look with Brad and laughed disarmingly. “Max here is a girl of many talents!”

“I believe you,” Brad said simply.

Caroline frowned. The way he and Max had pregamed, she wasn’t at all confident. It made her wonder if he would go to bed with her at all.

It’s fine if he doesn’t, she told herself. You can at all times sleep with Max.

On that note, she quickly took the bottle from Max and filled her own glass.

***

Over dinner, they talked about unimportant things, then moved onto the contract Brad had prepared. The dullness rankled against how warm Caroline felt. She knew she had to go over the contract… one thing she could thank her father for was having her learn contract law alongside her ABCs, so she felt confident in going over each stipulation blow for blow.

Caroline could almost lose herself in it, except for how Max was rubbing her thighs together, her breasts heaving, clearly turned on like crazy and barely able to keep her hands off Brad. It annoyed Caroline almost as much as it made her want to fuck Max herself. Now that that was somewhere on the table, dealing with Max’s horniness would be a lot more… something.

Finally, Caroline realized something: if you were holding a grenade, the urge to pull the pin finally became completely unmanageable.

“So, you fucked Max?” Caroline said casually, trying to be blunt about it in a way that broadcast her lack of anger, in fact that she approved. Max was her friend. Caroline wanted her to have great sex. And who did she know that was a great sex-haver apart from Brad?

“She fucked me is more like it,” Brad said with casual shamelessness. “And I can’t say I regret it.”

Caroline felt a sudden rush of indignation so great she fell victim to it immediately. “Would you say she’s better than me?”

“I’d have to collect some more evidence before I could say,” Brad replied nonchalantly.

Caroline colored, averting her eyes from Max, realizing how bitchy she’d sounded. “It’s okay if she’s better than me. She has a lot more experience. I mean… not a lot more. I just don’t have much! I mean, I have a lot… some, I have some…”

“I think you have just the right amount of experience,” Brad said. “I have no complaints. You don’t have any bad habits I need to break you out of. So we simply have to focus on building good habits.”

“Like what?” Max asked, sounding naughtily interested in the prospect.

“There’s the obvious willingness factor,” Brad began, sounding like an old school professor discussing a subject that was much-loved, but old-hat. “Caroline isn’t a whore like you, Max, but if I tell her to get down on her knees and open her mouth for my cock, obviously she should do that.”

Caroline was speechless. Max smirked.

“You think you can get Caroline to do that?”

Brad went on eating, spearing himself another forkful of the roast. “Oh yes. Positive reinforcement. Once Caroline learns all the pleasures that go with obeying instructions like that… well, that’s up to Caroline, but she’s a smart girl. I don’t think you’ll be too willful about it, will you, Caroline?”

Caroline chuckled nervously, put on the spot. She felt sure Max would want her to stand up for herself… but Christ, Max was such a whore. Wouldn’t she approve of… getting down on her knees and… she had to, Caroline had caught her doing just that! And Brad, she certainly didn’t want to disappoint Brad. Even Max didn’t want to disappoint Brad. She’d seen them together and Brad didn’t look the least bit disappointed…

“Uhh… hmmm… I seem to recall you calling me a good girl, Brad. You like that about me.”

“I do like that about you,” Brad agreed. “And I like what a whore Max is. She’d get down on her knees just because she loves cock that much.”

“Brad!” Caroline shrieked, affronted on Max’s behalf.

“No, it’s cool.” Max took a sip of wine. “I mean, yeah. I do. If all three of us are fucking, we should be able to admit this stuff… Brad, it’s not like you’re pretending you don’t like my vag or her vag or… other places.”