In For a Penny...

I turned away, feigning disinterest.

When I looked back, I saw that it was my wife smoking this time, also a Marlboro Light 100. Where had she gotten that? She didn't have cigarettes...did she?

My wife knows about my smoking fetish. She even used to indulge me sometimes, which is why an ashtray sat - to this point unused - on the table beside the couch. She had to know what this was doing to me. To see two hot women - in my own home! - smoking, well, let's just say I regretted not adding one essential piece to my wardrobe...a gaff.

Damn. My leather skirt started to feel a wee bit tighter. I remembered an episode of the Simpsons, the one in which Homer has to "think unsexy thoughts" to cool his infatuation with Mindy, a coworker.

So I tried it.

Think unsexy thoughts. Think unsexy thoughts.

It wasn't working.

I kept stealing glances at Cindy's frosty pink lipstick. Had she been wearing that the whole time? Or had she put it on when I was in the kitchen? I watched her inhale and exhale, her enormous tits rising and falling.

Tits? Wait a minute. I just realized that Cindy's dark gray blazer was draped beside her over the arm of the couch. Her tits were doing a bit of jutting themselves, her ample cleavage on display in the tight pink, low-cut top she was wearing. They had to be double D. At least. Risng and falling. Rising and falling.

Think unsexy thoughts. Think unsexy thoughts.

"You know, I'm not so sure any more," my wife said, a strange gleam in her eyes. "I don't think Ronnie's outfit is good enough to win first prize. What do you think, Cindy?"

Sam took a drag from her Marlboro Light and passed it to Cindy. Damn. They were sharing Cindy's cigarette. I always thought it was hot when women did that.

"How about if you give us another twirl, Ronnie?" Cindy said, taking a deep drag, a smile raising the corners of her mouth (I didn't imagine it this time). "Slowly. We need to get a better look at you."

She hadn't exhaled yet so each word was punctuated with a puff of smoke that escaped her shiny pink lips, until the end of her sentence when she sensuously blew out the rest straight at me.

Think unsexy thoughts. Think unsexy thoughts.

"Good idea," Sam said, reaching for Cindy's cigarette. She took a drag, French inhaled (when had she learn to do that?), and passed it back to her. "Show us what you got, Ronnie."

Cindy took a long drag from the proffered cigarette, paused...

...and leaned over to kiss Sam square on the mouth, exhaling at the same time. Sam inhaled. They broke their kiss and Sam, now wearing some of Cindy's pink lipstick, exhaled a long, thin stream toward the ceiling. Cindy casually reached over and, using her thumb, wiped away lipstick that had strayed outside of Sam's lips.

"I kind of like your shade," Sam said. "Why don't you put more on me?"

Cindy reached over and grabbed her purse, rummaged in it, and extracted a tube of lipstick. She yanked the top off and twirled the bottom, a cylinder of pink emerging from the hole.

"Well, that's one way to do it," Sam said. "You could always just..."

She let the thought trail out.

Think unsexy thoughts. Think unsexy thoughts.

"Oh, this is for me," Cindy said, glancing down at the tube of lipstick. "After I apply more to your lips."

Cindy leaned closer to Sam and kissed her again, sloppily, her lipstick smearing onto Sam's previously (mostly) uncoated lips.

They broke their lip lock. San turned to face me, her lips in a pout.

"What do you think, Ronnie?" Sam said. "Is it on straight?"

I nodded, stupidly. Obviously, the two were closer than I thought. Either that, or they were putting on one hell of a show for me tonight.

But to what end? I looked at Sam with pleading eyes. What did she want Ronnie, er me, to do? Whatever it was, she wasn't letting on.

All I knew is that if I stood up, my erection would be clearly visible under my leather skirt. If I stayed where I was, they'd just keep teasing me and I'd likely pop off in my panties. Which would be less embarrassing? Besides, this butt plug was becoming uncomfortable.

My mind raced. I was in uncharted territory, with no "script" to help me make the next decision. Damn life for not following my well-rehearsed evening.

"Come on, Ronnie," Cindy said, after reapplying more pink delight to her lips and putting the tube back into her purse. "You do want to win first prize at your office...don't you?" She held out her cigarette. Sam took it.

I squirmed in my chair, my breasts jiggling as I changed positions. I didn't like how Cindy emphasized the word "office."

"I dunno, Cindy," Sam said. She slowly eyed me from my thigh-high boots to the choker around my neck. "Ronnie's outfit looks a little over the top for an office Halloween party." Pause. "Maybe she has something else in mind."

Sam took a drag from Cindy's cigarette and blew another stream toward the ceiling. She looked at me, expectantly. It was like the scene in Field of Dreams in which Shoeless Joe hunkers down in the outfield, hands on his knees, waiting to see how the batter swings so he can gauge where the ball is going to fly.

I ran my tongue over my lips. They felt dry. I drained my wine in one big gulp and set the empty glass on the end table beside me. Liquid courage, as they say.

I stood up, teetering unsteadily in my 5-inch thigh high boots (or maybe it was the wine affecting my balance), my leather skirt tenting with reckless abandon.

Now it was the girls' turn to stare. Only they weren't staring at my face, I can assure you. But I was past caring at that point.

Sam's husband had hired me to be her escort. So, by God, that's precisely what I was going to be. (In for a penny, in for a pound, remember?)

Time to earn my money, even if I was "paying" myself.

"Mind if I share a smoke with you?" I asked, using my huskiest femme voice. "But after I visit the little girl's room. I have to freshen my lipstick."

*****

End Part One.

If there's interest, I'll write Part Two. If not, I hope you enjoyed this story.