I was lying in bed naked spooning with Ginger, hands locked together, with my penis deep inside her, and standing over us red faced was Chelsea. I had been intimate with twice earlier that day.
Working as a banking consultant all over North America and I have learned over the years that reading faces is almost as important as reading numbers. Chelsea was upset, I had no doubt of that; but it seemed like she were scared, and not in a jealous rage.
I was going to have to play things cautiously, not just to avoid the wrath of these two beauties, but also because I was a black man naked in a dorm in an all-girl Christian college. The last thing I wanted was an altercation to draw security.
"Hello Chelsea." I said with a giant smile. "I stopped by to take you to dinner."
Chelsea smiled.
"Oh, and it seems that I made a friend along the way." At that everyone burst out laughing.
"I'm going to my room for a shower, when I come back, I suppose we can go eat." Chelsea said as she turned and left.
Playing it cool seemed to work, and neither woman made a stink. Ginger went for a shower in her room, and I was left alone with a million questions.
I too had a shower; in my briefcase I had a change of clothes, a white t-shirt, and blue jeans, with an orange scarf for the cold.
Chelsea entered the room wearing a Purple mini-dress, cut low in the front; her ample bosom had my eyes bulging. Her outfit was rounded out with a green scarf in her hair.
Ginger saw my leering eyes and ran back to the bathroom to change. When she returned in a few minutes, she had on an orange sweater that was cut much lower in the front. Under it she wore a push up bra that threatened to spill her chest everywhere! She also wore a red mini-dress, and orange stockings that went to her knees.
As we walked out the door, Ginger stopped at a dresser to put on set of black glasses. I looked at her later, and noticed that they lacked lens.
"What a crazy girl!" I thought to myself.
During the drive Ginger asked me for my cell number, which I freely gave. However once we were seated in the restaurant, I regretted it immediately. Ginger was texting me repeatedly stating not to mention we had sex. Seated next to Chelsea was vigorously texting the same!
"I'm going to turn this thing off, and focus on you ladies without any distractions." I said to their frowning faces.
The booth we sat in was very secluded the other patrons couldn't see us, and was poorly lit. It was in my opinion the perfect place for our meal, I was seated in the middle our little alcove between the two women.
Both Ginger, and Chelsea had the same idea, I could feel their hands on each of my thighs, slowly moving upwards to my manhood. I held my breath as their fingers touched, and they both realized that they had the same goal.
Across the table they shot evil looks at each other as the waiter arrived.
"Let's start with a couple bottles of a white Niagara wine, and please keep the ladies glasses full." I said.
"You're both old enough to drink in this state right?" The two of them grinned sneakily back at me.
The waiter left, and Chelsea made an attempt to break the ice that had suddenly formed between her and Ginger.
"So tell us about yourself?" She said, staring at me, and tapping her fingers on the table.
I dread these questions, my life is too varied to lay out in a few sentences and besides I get more women to take their clothes off by listening then talking.
"Hmmm... where to start?" I said, stalling for time.
"How about the beginning?" Ginger said, hand on chin and smiling.
"Well my mother is from Aruba, and..."
"Where's that?" They said in unison, which was followed by mutual laughter.
"It's in the Caribbean. She met my father in the Netherlands..." I paused, waiting for an interruption, "That's in Europe, Western-Europe."
Again the both laughed, perhaps talking about myself is underrated?
"I was born there, but I grew up here in America." They were both hooked.
I told them about my rebellious years, and how I went back to my homeland, and joined the Royal Netherlands Army. I also spoke about my years overseas using the Leopard tank, and how I quit when the army sold the tanks.
The girls interrupted very little while I spoke, and they hung on my every word as they sipped their wine.
"That's when I went back to school, got a degree in banking, and started consulting." The two had finished their first glass, and our meals hadn't arrived.
"Tell me about yourself Chelsea?" I asked.
"There's not much to tell?" She replied.
I held my smile, looking into her eyes, and waited.
"I'm a corn farmer's daughter, um step-daughter. I'm a life guard part-time and full-time during the summer." She said.
She continued talking about her life, and dreams. As she spoke I slid my hand under the table and placed it on her knee. Ginger either didn't notice, or didn't care.
I walked my two fingers up her leg, in a seductive dance, pushing them up, and under her tight dress. Although her chest was turning red, she had quite the poker face, and didn't let on that I was getting her worked up.
Chelsea wore no panties, which I counted as a blessing. I pushed my two fingers into her as she parted her legs, and slid back in the seat.
She was soaking wet as I spread her lips, and started to jam my fingers in and out. Holding in her moans, she moved closer and closer to orgasm.
"So how high does the corn grow in his field?" Asked Ginger oblivious to her friends impeding climax.
Chelsea was able to reply, but I didn't hear I was in my zone; I wanted her to explode before the food arrived.
I picked up the pace, and used my thumb to tickle her clitoris. That's all it took to bring forth her waters. I could feel the warm fluid gush over my fingers, this left me rock hard, and wanting more.
Chelsea bit into her fist to suppress her orgasmic yell. Ginger filled her glass, and missed it all.
"I uh... need to go to the bathroom." Chelsea said as she stood up and left.
"What's her deal?" Ginger asked.
I spotted the giant wet spot on her dress, and remarked. "She must have spilt her drink."
"There's no puddle on the table?" She said pointing.
