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“No. I don’t want to own a cat.” “Why not?” It just fell out of my mouth, loaded with double-meaning. “You don’t like pussy?”
My quiet, studious looking neighbor built custom, high-end BDSM furniture.
“You want to be punished.” It was a statement, but it was clear he was waiting for confirmation from me, so my head bobbed in a nod. “Good,” he said. “I hope you’re not fragile.”
His tone was sinister. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”
He set his hand on the small of my back, and my heart tripped over itself. Maybe it was just a helpful gesture to guide me, but I doubted it. He’d done it to lay claim.
The dominating hand on me began to press down. “On your knees.”
“You’ll watch me while he does it. Understand?”
But nerves made my voice go uneven. “I like,” I rasped, “how you’re watching.” I had nothing to be nervous about because my confession earned me the biggest grin I’d seen yet from him. If I’d had any air left in my lungs, his gorgeous smile would have taken it all.
“Not yet. I’ll make you earn it.”
“I want to see your cock slide inside her tight, little pussy. I want to find out if her moans are the same as when I’m the one fucking her.”
“This is what you want?” he asked. “Me to clean up after him?” I didn’t know if this was a turn-on for the men, but for me? Fucking yes. Not just because I’d get an orgasm, but the idea of it . . . It was so dirty and hot, I couldn’t catch my breath. So, I swallowed thickly, gave him a shy smile, and bobbed my head.
He stared at me bound to the table he’d built, and watched as another man feasted on the pussy he’d just fucked.
“You like this?” His question wasn’t for me—it was for the other man, and his tone was sinful. “Do you like how I’m licking the taste of you from her pussy?”
“Do you want to share her with me like that? Because I want to fuck her while my dick’s rubbing against yours and feel like I’m fucking you both.”

