Clarissa & the Doctor Ch. 3

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He took his cigarettes from his shirt pocket and fired one up.

I snorted. "How about Betsy? She seemed to like you."

Michael chuckled. "Jealous? Cute."

He shook his head. "Sorry, baby. Not in the mood for trailer trash. G'wan, look around. Plenty of options."

I repressed a sudden, delicious shudder. A girl... I smiled, my nipples hardening. I was aware, suddenly, of the silky stockings caressing my legs, the cool air on my bare thighs. I felt sinful and bad and beyond redemption, fired by bourbon, libido, and stark curiosity. A girl. Why not? I was lost anyway.

I raised my head and scanned my surroundings. So many beautiful girls. No wonder Michael liked this place. I searched dutifully, trying not to look too obvious. Hmm. There. At the bar. A tall girl, at least as tall as me. A thick mane of red hair spilled in gentle waves over her creamy shoulders. She wore a short, beaded black slip dress, black stockings, high heels. High, firm breasts. She sat on a stool, long legs crossed, her back against the bar. She was drinking something out of a bottle. Looking straight ahead. Bored.

I admit, I stared.

She caught me gawking. I blushed, hard, and looked away.

Thirty seconds later, I snuck another look. She smiled and raised her bottle.

Michael watched, amused. "Nice," he grinned. "I got a soft spot for redheads. They're stubborn." He chuckled. "At first, anyhow. You want her?"

I nodded, feeling a wicked warmth between my legs.

Michael grinned, patted my cheek, and turned his full attention to her.

I watched him look at her, measure her, his dark eyes taking in every detail.

She looked at Michael, staring hard now. Her studied composure of a moment before was gone with the wind. She couldn't seem to look away.

Michael Hanlon had that effect on women.

Michael must have set a record that night. Before I had time to count ten, the girl hopped off of the stool and glided gracefully to our table. She was even more beautiful up close.Coppery hair framed a heart-shaped, rosy-cheeked face. Full, luscious mouth. Hint of shimmery pink lipstick. Large green eyes, pert little nose. Perfectly proportioned body. Michael liked what he saw, and it was mutual.

I was starting to feel like yesterday's pork chop.

Then she smiled at me. "You're pretty," she said. She looked from me to Michael. "Can I sit down?"

Michael rose and pulled out a chair. The girl sat down between us, putting her beer on the table.

Pretty. She'd called me pretty.

I smiled back, all of sudden liking her a whole lot more.

The girl reached into a black beaded evening bag, pulled out a pack of cigarettes, and extracted one. She held it, waiting, in her slender white fingers.

Michael reached over and lit it. His hand brushed hers.

She inhaled deeply, licking her pink lips, her eyes on Michael. I could see her nipples, clearly oultined under the thin crepe of her dress.

"What's your name, honey?" Michael asked, leaning back in his chair.

"Kate," the girl said, softly.

Michael held out his hand. "Give me your wallet, please, Kate."

Huh?

The girl looked puzzled. Hesitated.

Michael raised one eyebrow. "Now."

Shrugging, Kate complied.

Michael took her wallet and flipped it open. He took out her driver's license and examined it. "Twenty-four. Okay. Not a cop, are you, Kate?"

The girl laughed. "No. And plenty old enough to enjoy myself, as you can see."

Michael smiled, handing Kate's wallet back to her. "Just cautious. Wanna play with us, Kate?"

She nodded, smiling mischievously.

Michael sat forward, leaning his elbows on the table. "You like to play rough?"

Kate laughed, her eyes sweeping Michael amusedly, taking in his watch, his clothing. "Dish it out, Mister Trust Fund."

Michael rose, pushing in his chair. He dug a twenty-dollar bill out of his pants pocket and threw it on the table. "Let's go."

Michael certainly didn't waste any time. We'd been in the place all of twenty minutes. Kate and I got up and followed Michael through the club and out the door. The car was waiting by the curb. Clyde stood serenely, smoking a cigar. When he saw us, he pitched his stogie into the gutter and opened the back door. I got in first, followed by Michael and Kate.

We drove.

Michael grabbed the bottle of bourbon from the flor of the car, unscrewed the lid, and gulped thirstily. Mouth full, he turned to Kate, gripped her by the back of the neck, and fastened his lips to hers, forcing the liquor into her mouth. She swallowed easily, kissing him hard, melting into his embrace.

Michael broke the kiss and grinned, obviously pleased.

"You're all right, Kate," he laughed. "A little full of yourself, but I'll, uh, remedy that. I like a girl who can hold her liquor. Think you can teach that one?" He jerked his thumb at me.

Kate shifted slightly and wriggled into Michael's lap, straddling him. Michael dropped his hands to Kate's waist and pulled her to him. I watched, fascinated and quite aroused.

"I can teach her lots of stuff," Kate whispered. She leaned over, suddenly, and kissed me, gently, full on the mouth.

Her lips were sweet and soft. Her hair tickled my neck as she kissed me, sending delicious shivers straight to my crotch. Her tongue darted into my mouth, teasing, lapping. Her perfume was narcotic. I moaned, kissing her back, and offered no resistance when she slowly unbuttoned my blouse and, inclining her head, began to suckle my nipples. I threw my head back, eyes closed, lost to pure sensation. Suddenly, I felt Michael grab my hair, pulling my head to him. Felt his lips on mine. He kissed a slow, sensuous trail from my mouth across my cheek, to my jaw, stopping at my ear.

"Wow," he murmured. "And we aren't even at the hotel yet."

Part Four brings continued threesome fun and much more for our turbulent lovers!!

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