Marty rationalized the fear from his mind as best as he could. Catherine's nails dug into his skin as they shook hands, she had him like a rabbit in the talons of a hawk and instinctively he tried to pull away from the handshake as quickly as possible. She held onto his hand, lingering with her claw like grip. At first Marty couldn't figure out why seeing Catherine made him so nervous, then it dawned on him, Catherine scared him... just a little bit.
Perhaps it was less a fear of her, and more a fear of the unknown. Had Catherine been telling Allison of her late night rendezvous with Marty? Would she talk about it openly during this party for all to hear? That powerful grip of her hand, which worked magic when it was on his cock, now felt foreign and awkwardly suffocating on his hand. With great care, Catherine ended the handshake, dragging one nail down the length of Marty's palm and along his finger tip as their hands parted. A subtle way to quell his fear, or a predator toying with her prey?
"It's so nice to meet you, Marty. Ally has told me so much about what a wonderful, young man you are." Catherine smiled, her voice strange to Marty, without its usual husky, demanding tone. Marty squeaked out a thank you, before Catherine continued, "And fantastic with your hands too," she paused, just long enough for Marty's balls to retreat into his throat, "do you help Ally with chores very often?"
"Oh!" Marty exclaimed involuntarily with relief, "yeah, whenever I can. Usually its just stuff like hauling bricks or groceries." A bead of sweat was forming on Marty's brow. A grin crept its way along Catherine's face.
"Perhaps she'll rent you out to me, I'd love to use you," she mused. Marty's cheeks were on fire, Catherine stole a glance at Allison, who was giggling to herself, then slipped a playful wink at Marty. For now, their secret seemed safe, and Marty's testicles descended back into place.
The party got off to a slow start, thanks to Roger and his general laziness. The grill eventually saw some life, and burgers and hotdogs were served. Catherine kept Marty on a short leash for the evening, and while Allison spent most of that time in their company, she seemed just out of reach with Catherine's claws in him.
Then, without warning, Marty's safety net slipped away.
"I need to go make a beer run." Allison announced after checking a text message from Roger who was too into what he was doing to pull himself away and tell his wife in person, or do it himself. Marty felt a twinge of jealousy and then nervousness.
"We'll be fine, I can pump Marty for information while you're gone!" Catherine smirked. Allison shook her head as she walked away, assuming the joke was at her expense some how. For Marty, Catherine pumping him had an entirely separate meaning. "So, Marty," She said, turning her leering gaze towards him, " How long have you had a crush on Ally?"
Every drop of blood left Marty in an instant, and his eyes went wide. She blinked at him dully, waiting patiently for him to respond.
"I...uh," he stammered, "for a long time." He said deflated. Catherine's face stared at him, unchanged by his admission.
"Would you like to fuck her?" It was not a question of opinion, her tone was that of offering, "because I would like to help you, if that's the case." This time when she smiled at him, it seemed to be free of the sadistic quality that it usually had. Still, Marty felt like the lioness had let go of his tail, just to play with him some more.
"Yes, I would like nothing more than to do that with her." He found the phrase 'fuck Allison' sticking in his throat and had to avoid it. Catherine's teeth flashed between her succulently painted lips.
"One condition, we do it together." Marty's brain had to reboot. He had to have heard that wrong, "Ally has been my friend for years, and I, too, want to fuck her. So, we do it together, deal?" She extended her hand, and Marty sheepishly took it into his. They shook again, now partners in a new venture.
"Do you have a plan?" Marty asked, shocked that this second handshake had been free of pain.
"Of course," she straightened her skirt and took a sip of her drink before continuing, "Roger, that dickhead, needs to be out of the picture. He has a secret that I will exploit. Would you care to know what it is?"
"He likes guys." Marty replied flatly.
