By Eve St. Albert
SAM'S STORY
"Kayley," I ordered. "I want you to take off your panties."
There was an audible gasp, and a moment later, quietly.
"Yes, Sam."
There was silence, I heard faint rustling, a squeak of plastic. I imagined her standing to raise her skirt, pulling the panties down, the thin scraps of fabric at her thighs, her knees, pooling at her ankles. I imagined her sitting on the toilet seat, reaching down to collect them as she lifted one foot and then the other.
"Put your panties in your purse, right at the top. But don't zip your purse."
"All right," she said.
"How do you feel?" I asked.
"My heart is pounding."
"How's your pussy?"
"Very wet," she paused. "Are we really going to do this?"
"Nervous?"
"Very."
I nodded, even though she couldn't see me.
"Okay, Kayley, when you go back out, I want you to leave your phone on, on silent, so that I can hear everything. I'll be listening in, okay. And if anything goes wrong, I'll bust down that door in a flash. Whatever happens, you're completely safe. He won't hurt you. Nothing will hurt you; I won't allow it."
"Okay." She paused. "That's a good idea."
"All right," I said. "Now, I want you to know, it's completely up to you. You don't owe him anything. You don't have to do anything. This is all you. This is your choice, whatever you want to do, whatever you choose. I'm there for you. We can walk right out, right now. Or whatever you want."
She gave a small laugh.
"You're sending me out there bare pussy, with my panties hanging out of my purse."
"Were those panties wet?" I asked.
No answer.
"Okay," I said. "When I told you to take them off did your pussy get more or less wet?"
Pause.
"More," came quietly. "A lot more."
"I am so hard right now," I told her. "But it's your choice. And even when you make it, you can change your mind right up to the end."
"I love you."
"I love you too."
"I don't know yet," she confessed.
"That's all right. We can quit right now. We can go home right now. We can quit any time."
"I understand."
"What are you going to do?"
She sighed heavily.
"I'm going to go out there and sit with him... and then I'll decide."
Another heavy sigh.
"I got your back," but there was no answer. Instead, the sound of rustling told me that she'd deposited the phone in the open purse. Probably covered with the panties. More rustling, and the sound of a toilet flushing. Footsteps.
Kayley walked past me without so much as a glance.
"Hey Leroy," Kayley's voice came through the phone. "I'm back."
"I thought you might have fallen in," he said. "I was going to organize a search party."
"You just wanted to follow me into the bathroom," she lilted. I recognized her flirt voice.
He laughed.
"True enough." He paused. "So have you decided."
"I'm still thinking about it," Kayley said. A pause. I glanced over; she was taking a sip from her drink. Kayley. I had a momentary worry that he might have put something in it while she was gone. But the bartender had been right there. And anyway, why would he need to, if she was probably going to say yes.
I noticed that Leroy was glancing at her purse. He'd noticed the panties. I could imagine the wheels turning into his head, thinking about the panties peeking out of her purse. Thinking about how she'd left the purse unzipped so he could notice them. As long as he didn't poke around in that purse.
"Anything I can do to persuade you?" he teased.
"You're persuasive enough that I'm thinking of it," she whispered.
He leaned forward, and slid his hand along her hip.
"It'll be worth it," he promised.
"You're very confident," she teased.
As he straightened, his hand moved from her hip down the outside of her thigh to her knee.
Then he leaned forward, slowly thrusting his hand smoothly up between her legs, half way up her thighs. She stiffened and squeaked, clamping her thighs together. He'd done that before, and she'd allowed it. But now the play was on a different level, and distracted, she'd been surprised.
For a second, it seemed he's blown it. She'd been on the fence, and he'd pushed her off.
"You know what I just noticed," he said smoothly.
"What?" her voice was tremulous, a little breathless.
His hand between her legs moved slightly, just enough that I could tell her thighs weren't clamped together. She'd relaxed to his touch. He didn't intrude though, he knew he was on the knife's edge, the wrong move and it was over.
"You're not wearing panties," he told her. He didn't wait for a response. "Now, I'm wondering about that. Were you wearing panties when you walked into this bar? Yes or no."
"Yes," she said, her voice steadier but still quavering.
"I see. So if you came in with them, you must have taken them off. When did you take your panties off, Kayley?"
I felt a ripple of excitement and unease; this was the first time I'd heard him call her by her name. it sounded possessive in his voice. It made things more viscerally real. I had a flash of him saying her name, Kayley, as he fucked her.
"In... when I went to the bathroom."
"I see," Leroy said, his voice honey smooth. "You know what I think, Kayley. I think the decision's already made, and you're just nervous that's all."
"Uhm..." she said, "you think that, do you."
"We're going to go to the men's room now, Kayley."
There was a long pause.
She licked her lips.
"All right."
Involuntarily, I exhaled, realizing only now that I'd been holding my breath. So it was as simple as that. It wasn't her decision at all. He decided for her, and she simply accepted it. It had been his choice, and he'd made it for her.
Or had it been my decision, when I'd told her to take off her panties? Told or ordered? My command to return with her panties in her purse, had sealed her fate.
But regardless it was decided, the love of my life was about to be fucked in a sleazy dive bar men's room, by some complete stranger that had sat next to her twenty minutes ago. I was insanely excited, my cock so swollen and hard I could feel it pulsing. My heart was pounding, my mouth was so dry I couldn't speak. I felt buoyant, and overwrought, fight and flight reflexes kicking in. It was as if I was the one about to be fucked in the bathroom and not her. I took a deep swallow of my beer.
Now that the decision was made, Leroy seemed to assume command. He took her by the wrist and lead her off the stool. She came along without resistance, her legs wobbling. She barely had the presence of mind to grab her purse.
Leroy was so focused on dragging her to the men's room, he didn't even glance as they passed me. I looked up, and Kayley and I had a moment where we looked directly at her. I searched her expression - excitement, embarrassment, nervousness, anticipation, even arousal?
I looked for fear, for reluctance, but I couldn't find it. Was it there, and my own lust fooling me. Did she really want this.
She gave me the slightest nod, as if reading my mind. I nodded back. And then Leroy dragged her along. They disappeared behind the men's room door. I swiveled in my chair to face the way they'd gone, ready to rush up and crash through the door, and pressed the phone to my ear.
At first, I didn't hear anything. Sound of footsteps, a creak of door.
"Gross," Kayley said.
"It's not that bad," Leroy replied.
"So..." Kayley began, "how do we do this?"
Then she gasped loudly.
"Fuck you're wet!" Leroy said. "I fucking love a smooth wet pussy."
I imagined him putting his hand up her skirt, feeling her. The gasp of surprise as she did that, the expression on her face. Lust? Nervousness? They must be right on top of each other. I imagined him pressing up against her, her skirt hiked up, his arm between her leg. Did she embrace him? Was she pushed back against a wall?