Poor Petra! (1) free porn video

I’ve just turned nineteen and am excited about going to university. It’s something I’ve been looking forward to for ages. Okay, I’ve had to give the kiss off to my hometown boyfriend Mark, but that wasn’t so tough. I’ve been cheating on him like a slut anyway. I am sex mad.

On the first day, the freshers are paired for accommodation and I get roomed up with a girl called Petra. She’s a bit older than me, but she seems alright, and we draw a nice bedsit with kitchenette and bathroom. There’s two double beds, same size therefore no need for arguments, and the bathroom is actually okay, although it’s nothing on the palatial one I’m used to at my parent’s place. I’d probably rather not be sharing a bedroom, sure, but I’m happy enough. It could have been a lot worse.

The first few days are great, a whirlwind of activity, most of it social. I meet tons of people. Some of the male students around the place are pretty hot and I’ve already got my eye on a couple of them. I think they might have their eye on me too!

Petra I don’t spend that much time with even though she’s my roommate, but we have a few ‘getting to know you’ chats and I find out that she’s actually twenty-three. She’s starting college later than most people, basically because she’s had to work and save up the money to do it. It’s taken her nearly five years. Amazing. No way could I have done that. If daddy wasn’t paying for this (plus a nice allowance on top) I just wouldn’t be here. Still, takes all sorts.

Thursday of the second week is the first time I find myself bored and at a loose end. Me and Petra are both dossing around in the room doing not very much, I’m painting my nails and she’s on her bed reading a book.

Like I say, I’m bored, and on a whim I invite Petra to get the bus off campus and hit the town with me. She takes a little persuading, Petra is not what you’d call a party animal, but I really press the point, kinda bully her almost, and she ends up saying okay and so we get ready and we go for it.

*

We find this bar that has a cool vibe and I say to Petra to go get the drinks while I grab us a table. I spot a good one over by the wall, a small circular table with two stools, and I settle myself on the far side so I’m facing the main bar area.

Petra waddles back from getting our drinks, large glass of chardonnay each, and joins me. The way I’ve arranged things means she has to sit opposite me, facing the wall.

“Jesus, I thought you’d gotten lost or something,” I say, a reference to the amount of time it’s taken her to get served. Not as if the place is heaving. It’s not even 8 o’clock yet.

“Sorry, Em,” she says. “Couldn’t seem to get anyone’s attention.”

“You need to try being a little louder, sweetie,” I tell her.

Probably pointless me saying this as Petra is one of those kinda meek individuals you sometimes meet. She’s clever and stuff, no doubt about that, but she’s a bit short on self-confidence. Just the way she is. Perhaps it’s because she’s not pretty.

We chat for a while about nothing much, which is fine by me, I’m not in the mood for deep conversation, but before long Petra starts droning on again about her non-existent love life. Yawn. This is pretty tedious to listen to even if you haven’t heard it before, as I have. Several times.

I’m not surprised my roommate has problems in this area. I said she wasn’t pretty and that’s being kind. Petra is short and seriously overweight and she has the sort of face that tends to be described in polite circles as ‘plain’. But I keep that thought to myself, obviously, and I pretend to sympathize like usual when she harps on about this particular subject. Meanwhile I subtly check out the cute guy rating for the place we’re in.

It’s medium to high. There are quite a few.

“C’mon, fuck’s sake, cheer up!” I tell her, eventually. I’m becoming a little irritated with Petra. I’m out for a good time tonight.

Petra says sorry but that it’s just so depressing never getting anywhere with guys.

“Yeah, guess it must be,” I sigh.

She’s looking at me plaintively. “It’s ok for you, Emily. You have to fight them off.”

I smile and shake my head but what Petra has said happens to be true. Because let’s screw any false modesty crap, I was at the front of the queue when the female attributes were being doled out. Think five six, pretty face, great hair, flawless complexion, fabulous figure, and you more or less have it. I’m hot.

And so, yes, I do get an awful lot of attention from the opposite sex. It’s what tends to happen to girls like me.

When you’re like Petra, on the other hand, I’m sure it’s a different story. It must be pretty much impossible to attract a man. What about personality, I hear you say. Yeah, what about it. If you’re a guy, sure, that can make a difference. But a girl who has zilch going on in the looks department, she’s gonna struggle.

Cruel, yes, but it’s how the world works. The pretty girls have all the fun. And to be 100% honest, being one myself, I’m glad it does work like that.

I mean, I get men falling for me left right and centre and I absolutely love it!

I gaze at Petra. She’s made an effort tonight, with clothes and makeup and stuff, but somehow this only makes her basic lack of physical appeal kinda more obvious and sad. I’ve made less effort and look a million times more alluring. So unfair.

“You’ll meet someone soon enough,” I say to her, soothingly. The opposite of what I’m actually thinking.

“Will I?” she frowns.

“Yeah, sure you will.”

“Doubt it.”

“Who knows, we might even get lucky tonight!”

Petra’s narrow mouth twitches. She takes a swig of her wine and gingerly twists around so that she can check out the scene.

I scout around the bar too (much easier for me because I’m facing the action) and things are pretty much as I expect. Plenty of looks from men are bleeding in our direction and the appreciation is exclusively for moi. The only looks aimed at the back of dumpy frumpy little Petra are derisory and sort of curious. People are probably wondering how on earth a girl like her gets to hang out with me.

Okay newsflash, so I’m a bit of a bitch, and yeah I’m getting off on the idea of people here thinking like that. Especially the guys. I like how Petra is no competition.

Better than that, I’m smugly aware that socializing with her is making me look even more slim and pretty and desirable tonight. And the reverse, of course. Petra must be painfully conscious of the contrast between us. She must be feeling spectacularly unattractive and inferior sat in a bar like this with me. Yeah, she must be. The thought gives me a bitchy little kick.

I confess that this rather appealing scenario did cross my mind when I suggested that we go out together this evening.

Thing is, I could have gone out on my own and had fun, sure I could, but that can appear kinda slutty. Much better to have Petra tagging along as my unappealing little stooge. That’s why I put all the effort earlier into persuading her.

I fix her with a penetrating smirky grin. Petra tries returning it but it’s forced. She’s seen the way the men in here are looking at me.

“Yes, I’m feeling optimistic about this place,” I go on. “Tons of nice looking guys in here! Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”

“Dunno,” she mumbles.

Should I keep playing with the poor thing?

Mmm, I think I will. It’s rather fun.

“Especially with you in that fabulous dress!” I say.

Petra gives a tight smile. She does have a nice dress on but we both know she doesn’t look remotely sexy in it.

Me on the other hand: stressed denim mini, bare legs, little cotton top, no bra, open sandals, pedicure, you get the picture. Pricktease.

“And your hair’s looking good too,” I tell her, giggling inwardly at what a blatant lie that is. OMG I’m such a bitch.

Petra shrugs and falls silent. She suspects I’m making fun of her but she can’t get all upset at me without coming across like a grumpy humourless cow.

I resist the urge to continue patronizing the poor girl. I’m thoroughly enjoying dishing out the sly mockery but I don’t want to overdo it. She is my roommate.

Plus I don’t want her running out on me. That would kinda defeat the object.

I survey the surroundings again, at my leisure this time, and assess how many men are giving me the eye. It’s well into double digits. Yeah, I’m generating a heap of palpable male excitement in this place. So what’s new.

I take a few moments to just luxuriate in the effect I’m having. Bask in the adoration. As usual I’m experiencing a satisfying surge of power being the object of such desire.

And, as usual I want to use and abuse it.

So, I decide to fool around a little.

I resume chatting in desultory fashion to stooge Petra but at the same time, I start playing the temptress for the guys that are watching me.

I flick my eyes around the bar, make with the sultry pout, tossing of hair, licking of lips, suggestive stroking of my wine glass, all that sort of stuff.

I shift my stool a little, angle myself away from the table, and make an erotic production of crossing and re-crossing my legs in my short skirt, tantalizing all the men in eye-shot with lots of silky thigh, and then I slowly loosen a sandal and dangle it enticingly on my toes.

When I get animated (which I make sure to do from time to time) the skimpy top I’m wearing struggles to contain my full firm breasts. It has these spaghetti straps which keep sliding down my shoulders, causing things to get a bit loose up there and some careless peek-a-boo with my jugs. No nipple (hey I’m not a tart!) but it comes pretty close to that sometimes. I pull the straps back up periodically, course I do, but not in a hurry.

Couple of times I’m really bad and do a prolonged and leisurely arm stretch in my seat, hands behind and above my head. This means two things. Tits straining hard against thin cotton, and sexy bare belly revealed as bottom edge of top rises up. I know the effect this position will be having on the male members of the audience and I make sure to hold it for several seconds.

Yep, I’m very much preening for the boys.

I keep glancing around the place to check on reaction to my teasing and OMG it’s a scream. Guys are mesmerized. Tongues are hanging out. The saddo middle-aged geezer sat on his own nearby is almost salivating.

Have to admit I used to love tormenting these desperate older types. Men like that are the perfect victims to tease. It drives them fucking insane when you do it. And that’s not even the best part. The best part is how you know, you just know, that the sight of you in your short clingy dress, or your crop top and sprayed on jeans, or whatever incendiary little outfit you happen to be wearing that day, will stay fresh in their fucked up heads and still be torturing them for a long long time afterwards.

Like I say, I have Petra facing the wall, but she’s craned around a few times as we’ve been chatting and she’s aware that lots of men are lusting on me. Knows I’ve been encouraging it too. She couldn’t fail to.

God, I bet she’s so wishing she were me right now. The poor girl is feeling very insecure and jealous I can tell.

She’s also sitting there with an empty glass having rather gulped her wine. I still have quite a bit of mine left when she finishes.

I sense her willing me to get a move on so that we can maybe call it a night.

I don’t though. When I realize Petra is desperate for me to speed up I deliberately do the opposite. I start taking ages between sips and the sips are so tiny that the level in my glass barely moves each time. I really make it last.

Petra is looking more and miserable. I pretend not to notice her growing discomfort but the truth is I’m enjoying it immensely.

There’s a pair of cute young guys drinking at the bar who are ogling me big time. Because they are so cute I’ve been awarding them some welcoming eye contact from time to time and I turn up the dial on that now. I start really playing the flirty glances with these boys.

Thing is, I want to stoke them up. An idea is forming and I want these two hunks doing more than just ogling. I want them thinking of possibilities.

It works a dream. They’re discussing me in earnest now, it’s obvious.

OMG it’s easy peasy this game. Probably why I’m always playing it!

It’s easy for me anyway.

Because, jesus, I’d hate to be ugly. Dressing in hot outfits, being a massive cocktease, getting guys all horned up and acting like total idiots, is such a fun thing for a girl. But you have to be pretty and sexy like me, otherwise you simply cannot do it. Ugly girls are excluded, same as they are from all the fun. Same as they are even from routine stuff like just getting themselves a boyfriend. Yeah, must be a total bummer.

Speaking of ugly girls, Petra is looking relieved because I’ve finally finished my wine.

So funny.

That idea I’ve just had, I decide I am gonna do it. Perta has kinda been pissing me off lately. I feel like screwing her around and tonight is a great opportunity. It’s simply too good a chance to miss.

“Let’s have another!” I announce, giving zero room for dissent.

I love how her face crumples for a second. That relief didn’t last long.

“Um, okay,” Petra mutters.

Talk about glum!

Okay, so how much glummer will she be if I was to get seriously hit on here by a couple of good looking boys, if she has to sit there like a lemon while these boys kinda fight over me, winner gets my number at the end of the night?

Or maybe he gets a little bit more than my number.

I beam across at the two hunks by the bar. Yeah, they definitely fit the bill!

“I’ll do the honours,” I say, picking up our glasses. “Same again?”

“Guess so.”

Jesus, could she sound any less enthusiastic. The girl clearly wants go home.

But she can’t reasonably do that, can she? Not after just one drink. Not now we’ve come all the way into town.

Nope, sorry, I’m afraid the poor thing is pretty much stuck with this.

*

I get up and saunter off towards the bar, pleasantly conscious of the sexually charged stares from my legion of fans. I put a little extra sway in my hips for their benefit.

There’s some whistling from a group of half-cut and leery guys as I pass their table. I grin and give them the finger and I can feel their eyes burning into my swinging ass as I walk away. Dream on suckers!

I enjoyed that (fucking loved it actually!) but the best thing as far as I’m concerned is what’s happening with the two hunks propping up the bar. They can’t take their eyes off me!

I make a beeline to a spot right next to them and I fish around in my bag for some money.

“Hey, sweetheart, how about we buy?”

Bingo.

My handsome young admirers are looking eagerly at me.

I act surprised and delighted. Or rather the surprise is an act. The delight is genuine, both of them look even more yummy close up!

“Now why would you do that?” I giggle.

“Why do you think, gorgeous?” grins one of them.

“Well I really don’t know,” I reply, in a flirty way that makes it clear that I totally do.

“Paul,” he says, offering a hand.

“Hi Paul. I’m Emily.”

“And I’m Danny,” says the other guy, getting in on the act.

“Hi there Danny.”

A barman appears at this point and I order our chardonnay. I seem to be getting served ahead of a few people who were already waiting. Wonder why.

The barman attempts some eager beaver chat and feasts his eyes on the upper slopes of my large perky tits as he’s pouring. Paul cuts him off (oooo my hero!) and adds two beers to the order and he gets his wallet out and pays.

“Thank you, kind sir!” I say, pouting prettily.

“My pleasure, Emily,” Paul says, tucking his wallet back in his hip pocket.

“Gorgeous girl like you shouldn’t be buying her own drinks,” chips in Danny, wolfish grin.

“Ha ha ha. I usually don’t.”

Which is true. Buying my own drinks, buying my own anything, when guys are around is not something I believe in.

“I just bet you don’t,” goes Danny, all suave.

“You are a total babe, Emily, sweetheart.”

That was Paul. He’s not going to be outdone.

It’s all music to my ears. I hear this sort of stuff a lot, naturally, but it doesn’t mean I get tired of it.

I reward the boys with a deeply suggestive giggle.

“But you know that, honey, don’t you?” smarms Danny.

“Do I?”

“I think you do.”

“So, are these your best lines? Or do have some even better ones?”

“How about you get to find out, sweetheart?” says Paul.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. What say me and Danny come and join you and that friend of yours over there?”

It’s like I’ve written a script!

I glance back to our table, curious to see if Petra is watching me and the boys get acquainted. She is. I smile and wave but she flips around quickly and pretends to be absorbed in her fascinating view of the wall.

“I’d better check with her first,” I tell the boys.

“Sure, gorgeous.”

“Give me a couple of minutes.”

“You bet!”

I grin knowingly and walk off to rejoin Petra with our drinks.

“Guess what!” I say, soon as I’ve sat down.

“Those guys?” says Petra. She sounds anxious.

“Yeah, those guys. Those very cute guys. Looks like we’ve pulled! They wanna join us!”

“Um, I dunno, Emily. I -”

“Aw, c’mom, Petra. They’ve bought our drinks. Can hardly say no, can we?”

“Well -”

“It’ll be fun!”

“Guess so.”

“It will! Hey and you were complaining about never meeting any guys. Well here we go, right?”

“Yeah, sure. Right.”

I look across at Danny and Paul who are watching keenly. Paul raises his eyebrows. I smile and waggle a finger, beckoning them over like a pair of puppies. They just about trip over themselves to cover the ground and join us.

The boys pull a couple of stools from the table that mister saddo salivator is occupying (bet he wishes he were joining us!) and they sit down with me and Petra. I make the introductions and we get talking around the small table.

It doesn’t go quite as I was expecting. The guys have clearly managed to negotiate the ‘pretty girl with ugly friend’ question upfront and Danny has been designated to handle Petra. Meanwhile Paul gets a free run at me. Not sure how they sorted it but they have. Maybe they tossed a coin and Danny lost.

Whatever, I’m totally cool about it. I know what the score is here. I know that they both fancy me something rotten.

So we’re sat there, me flirting heavily with Paul, Danny giving Petra the charm offensive, and we’ve arranged ourselves to make that easier. Me and Paul are sat very close together and so are the other two. With such a small table, though, we’re actually all quite near to each other, not like split off into unconnected couples. It’s the four of us hanging out, is what I’m trying to say. It’s all quite intimate.

It’s amusing observing Petra. She’s a bit shy and tongue-tied at first (don’t think she can believe her luck that this hunk of a guy Danny seems interested in her) but she’s soon relaxing into it and having a whale of a time.

It’s also amusing observing Danny. He’s doing a great job with Petra but, as I say, it’s an intimate table, and he has a very nice view of most of moi from where he’s sitting. He can see plenty of my sexily crossed legs, for example, and the poor boy is struggling manfully not to get too distracted by them. He’s noticing my big juicy melons too. How could he not? Like I said before, they’re not exactly hiding away in the flimsy top I’m almost wearing.

Yep, hunky Danny knows I’m around alright and he’s snatching as many looks as he can without Petra realizing that he’s doing it. Which she doesn’t, dumb cow, cos she’s so bowled over by the fact she’s being chatted up by a good looking boy.

I catch Danny’s eye once or twice and send a look that says yeah I know I’m a siren and yeah I know you’re leching, and no I don’t mind one bit.

And meanwhile I’m getting nice and friendly with the equally hunky Paul. He’s just so smitten with me it’s almost comical.

So yes, it’s all going great, except that Petra is having a really swell time and that’s not at all what I had in mind.

So I get to thinking about variations. Doing something else.

It comes to me pretty much straightaway. A potential scenario that’s considerably more amusing and exciting than my original plan and which is possible precisely because of how one of the boys is pretending to like Petra.

It’s kinda demonic!

Paul’s hand has drifted to my thigh (cue wistful look from Danny) and he’s telling me for the umpteenth time what a beautiful girl I am, how much he’d love to get to know me better bla bla.

I smile gracefully and tune him out, let him carry on gushing while I game it all out in my head. Will it actually work? Do I really wanna do it?

Answers are (i) Sure it will, and (ii) Yeah, why the fuck not. Be a scream.

There’s no rush, however, and I wait until we girls get up for the bathroom.

“Dreamy, Petra, aren’t they?” I say, when we’re in there.

“They really are,” Petra swoons.

“And look, they didn’t seem fazed that we share a room, did they?”

“Um, no, not especially. Why?”

“Oh c’mon, Petra, you know what I mean!”

“Okay, yes. I suppose I do!”

“So come on then, what do you think? Should we invite them back? You know, for coffee?”

“Coffee?”

I giggle. “Yeah, you know. Coffee.”

Petra hums and hahs but it’s clear she wants to. In fact that’s an understatement.

“That Danny fancies you like mad by the looks of it!”

Petra starts giggling too. “Do you really think so?”

“Oh def!”

She’s giggling up a storm now. “Just hope I know what to do when I get him home!”

I look quizzically at her and she whispers sheepishly that she’s never actually ever gotten laid. I burst out laughing.

“Still a virgin at twenty-three! Oh my god, sweetie, you must be gagging for it.”

Petra reddens but she laughs too. “Yeah, Em, you could say that.”

OMG this is gonna be even better than I thought. It’s less than a couple of weeks since my last shag (Mark back home, one for the road, poor boy) and I’m more than ready for some good hard dick. Christ only knows how sex-starved and frustrated poor Petra must be.

“You’ve sure pulled a good one for your first,” I grin.

“He’s lovely, isn’t he?”

“You don’t wanna swap then?” I tease her.

“Emily!”

“Kidding, sweetie! C’mon, I’m happy. My one’s mega fit too, don’t you think?”

“Oh yes!”

“As fit as your Danny?”

“Well -”

“Ha ha ha. Okay, that’s settled,” I pronounce gleefully. “One more drink here and then it’s party time!”

Petra nods. Her face is flushed with excitement.

We re-join the boys and tell them the plan. Another drink and then taxi back to our place. To say that Paul is up for it is putting it mildly. He looks anxiously at Danny who doesn’t seem quite so gung ho (for obvious reasons) but eventually it’s a ‘yeah fine’ from him too.

“Great,” I say, and I suggest that me and Paul get the drinks in.

“Nah, my turn,” says Danny.

“No, we’ll go,” I insist, and I grab Paul’s hand and lead him off towards the bar.

Reason for this is I want a little chat with him away from the other two.

*

I get my chance while we’re at the bar since it’s extremely busy now and it takes Paul an age to get served.

“So, it’s good that your friend is so into Petra, huh?” I say, mischievous glint in my eye.

“Well, you know,” Paul grins.

“Poor Danny,” I giggle. “What did you do? Arm wrestle?”

Paul snorts with laughter at that. “Nah. I called in a favour. He owed me one.”

“Must have been a big one.”

“Ha ha ha. Massive.”

I giggle again. This is such an ego trip!

“Hey but look, the thing is, you guys can drop the pretence if you like.”

“How d’you mean?” says Paul.

“Well, both of you have the hots for me, right?”

“Obviously.”

“There you go. So why the charade?”

“We figured we couldn’t both hit on you, gorgeous, cos if we did that your mate would get antsy and then nobody gets what they want.”

“Yeah, true, she probably would have.”

“See?”

“Okay, well it’s worked. You’re coming home with us.”

“Yeah. Can’t wait.”

“Ha ha ha. Me neither. So why not cut the crap now? I mean, does your friend actually want to fuck Petra?”

Paul chuckles. “Er, no.”

“So he shouldn’t have to, should he? Poor guy.”

“Okay, fine. I’ll tell him. He can go home. He’ll be relieved.”

“No, honey, I don’t mean that.”

“Not totally following you, Em.”

“He can still come back. Both of you are coming back. That’s agreed.”

“So what’s Danny and Petra gonna do all night? Play scrabble?”

“Maybe Petra can,” I giggle, “She’s probably good at scrabble. But your pal Danny, no, he doesn’t seem the scrabble type. I’m pretty sure there’s something else he’d rather be doing, you know what I mean?”

“I know exactly what Danny wants to be doing, Em. He wants to get it on with you.”

“Exactly.”

“But I’m doing that, babe, remember?”

“I have a big bed.”

Paul has a shit-eating grin on his face all of a sudden. It’s clear he likes the sound of this. Kinda knew he would. Call it female intuition.

“You boys won’t mind sharing me, will you?” I smirk.

“Fuck no, gorgeous. That is fucking hot!”

“I think so too.”

“Right. Oh fucking yeah. I’ll give Dan the good news. He’ll be fucking ecstatic! Poor bastard’s probably dreading having to shag your doggy roommate.”

“Ha ha ha. Don’t let the doggy roommate hear though, sugar, will you? If Petra gets wind of the plan, it won’t work. It’ll spoil the whole thing. You guys will be going home alone and I’ll be getting a load of crap and hassle from her.

“Hmm, sure, okay. So should I not tell Dan?”

“Yeah, no, tell him, but just make sure that Petra doesn’t cotton on.”

“Right.”

“Tell him to keep flirting with her until we get back to our place. In fact, yeah this will make it more funny, tell him to step it up with all that.”

“Step it up?”

“Yeah. Tell him to get Petra really loved up. Like, start making out with her in the taxi, snog her face off, wandering hands, stuff like that. So by the time we get home the poor thing will be on heat and looking forward to the night of her life. Then once we’re in our room it’s all change and you and Danny can both concentrate on bedding me.”

Paul is shaking his head and chuckling. “Em, that is fucking evil!”

“Yeah, I know,” I laugh. “Terrible, aren’t I?”

“Don’t you like her or something?”

“She’s okay. Just gets on my nerves a bit. And I’m feeling mean.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Ha ha ha. Hey and get this, what makes it even more diabolical, I happen to know just how badly she needs to get laid. Poor thing has never seen any action. Twenty-three and still waiting, can you believe that.”

“I actually can by the look of her,” jokes Paul. “What a minger.”

“I know, isn’t she just. Poor girl. Must be so fucking depressing looking like that.”

“Not something you need to worry about, gorgeous, is it? I mean, me and Danny were fucking killing ourselves when you two walked in. Talk about beauty and the beast.”

“Ha ha ha.”

“Like I said. Big favour I was calling in.”

“So yeah, she’s fucking desperate for it!” I giggle. “Oh god, just think how she’s gonna feel later! Her roommate getting seduced by two hunky boys. Having wild sex with both of them while she gets a great big fat zero. It’ll destroy her!”

“Ha ha ha. Poor cow.”

“Yeah, can you imagine.”

(We break off as Paul finally manages to get one of the bar staff on the case.)

“But what about Petra actually?” Paul asks me when he’s ordered. “She just gonna watch or something?”

“Dunno. We share a bedroom so she can’t run off anywhere, can she?”

“Ha ha ha. Guess not.”

“So, yes, Petra can watch the action if she wants. Fact, I’d really love that. Do it right in front of her. Let her see the whole fucking thing.”

“Literally.”

“Ha ha ha. Exactly, sugar. That’d be sheer torture for her, wouldn’t it? There she is, all sexually frustrated, hasn’t ever had even a sniff, and she gets a close-up view of me enjoying two cocks at the same time. That’d be fucking brilliant.”

“Bitch!”

“Somehow don’t think she’ll be up for it, though, do you? Think she might just crawl off under her own duvet and try and pretend it’s not happening.”

“Bit difficult that, Em, I’d have thought.”

“What, with me squealing like a porn star in double dicked ecstasy all night. Ha ha ha. Yeah, baby, I see what you mean.”

“Probably start playing with herself, fantasizing she’s you.”

“Ha ha ha. Yes, probably. Must be a dab hand at that. Poor thing.”

(The drinks are coming now and we need to think about going back to the table.)

“So I’ll tell Danny the dastardly plan, gorgeous, yeah?” Paul says.

“Yeah. Make sure he knows exactly how I want things to pan out.”

“You got it, sweetheart.”

“Oh yes, one more thing. When we get back to the room, the three of us shouldn’t just suddenly ignore Petra and jump into bed together.”

“Damn!”

“Ha ha ha. No seriously, Paul, this is important. It has to look like we haven’t planned it. Things have to happen gradually. Petra mustn’t know that the whole thing is a set-up.”

“Okay, sweetheart. Yes, I see what you mean. So how do you wanna play it exactly?”

I tell him. Or at least I give him the gist.

(Drinks are here and Paul is paying. Great timing since I’m about done with the briefing.)

“Baby, you’re a sadist!” he guffaws, when I’ve told him how I want things to unfold. “But, yes, I think we can manage all that.”

“Cool. We’ll play it by ear a bit obviously. You guys just take your cues from me, okay?”

“Your show, gorgeous.”

“I know. Ha ha ha. And Danny’s gonna definitely agree, you reckon?”

“Hmm, let me see now. Will Danny agree to a plan whereby he gets to shag a luscious babe tonight instead of a tub of lard? Gosh I wonder.”

“Ha ha ha. Okay, brilliant.”

“So c’mon, sweetheart, let’s do it,” Paul says, and we take the drinks back to the table.

*

We sit back down and resume chatting, the four of us. It’s hilarious how Petra is gazing adoringly at Danny the whole time. It’s like she’s in love.

Meanwhile Danny is holding his end up, he’s doing okay, but there’s a glaze in his eye. He’s bored shitless with her, I can tell. She can’t, thankfully, but I can.

He’s admiring me more frequently now. Those glances are happening every few seconds and there’s this massive longing in his eyes. Yeah, the glaze lifts then, believe me.

I’m not at all worried about this because although it’s obvious to me (and to Paul) that Danny is lusting on me, I can see that Petra is oblivious. She’s wittering on ten to the dozen.

We’ll be going soon in any case.

I’m actually a bit naughty, start teasing poor Danny a little.

A little? Okay, make that a lot, I’m doing that sultry temptress thing again, like earlier, although not for nearly so long. It’s mainly for my man Paul’s benefit (who’s loving it cos he knows he’s gonna be fucking me later) but Danny, well he doesn’t know yet that he’ll be fucking me too, he still thinks he’s got to fuck doggy little Petra, and so he’s kinda suffering because of what I’m doing. He’s loving it but he’s hating it too, if you know what I mean.

As for the saddo on his own at the next table, well OMG that’s hilarious what’s happened there.

He’s not on his own anymore, for one thing. A group of noisy young kids have muscled onto his table and he’s kind of just sat there in no man’s land, drunk and marooned.

He ought to have left, that’s obvious, but the reason he hasn’t, the one and only reason he’s stuck there losing all his dignity, is that he can’t drag his stupefied horny gaze off my crossed legs and the shoe I’m dangling on the tip of my foot. Guy is, like, hypnotized by me. He can’t go home till I do.

OMG it’s sad.

But also incredibly amusing. It’s clear that my long sexy legs and my pretty painted feet are instruments of torture for this trapped character and I decide to maximize his pain.

“Watch this, babe,” I whisper to Paul. “The sad sack. I’m gonna mess with him.”

And I start cockteasing the shit out of the wretched guy.

I turn and flaunt my crossed legs right at him. Then I drape a finger slowly along the inside of my thigh. I slide it up under my skirt and scratch around for a couple of seconds, like I have an itch high up there, quite close to my pussy. Then for good measure what I do is I loosen my shoe a bit more and I dangle it maliciously right on the edge of my big toe, keep arching my foot so that it almost falls off but never quite does.

I make it worse by staring right at him as I’m tormenting him, great big mocking smile on my face.

“You like what you see, sugar?” I call out, pouting like a sex goddess.

Guy can’t reply. He’s too ashamed and drunk and enraptured.

Then I pull the switch.

I drop the smile and replace it with a sneer. “Dirty old bastard!” I snap. “Stop fucking perving on me, will you? Just go home and fucking play with yourself like usual.”

My victim is closest to me and Paul (perhaps six feet away) but Danny and Petra are also aware of what I’ve just done. How I’ve deliberately humiliated this poor bastard.

Petra looks a bit shocked (guess she can’t really relate to driving a man beserk just with her legs) but Danny clearly found it hilarious.

“Ha ha ha. Love it, Emily! Bet the old git hasn’t had pussy in decades,” he says, loud enough for a few other people to hear. “Bet he’s going fucking gaga for it! Ha ha ha.”

There’s one or two sniggers in our vicinity, but from Petra’s expression I see that she doesn’t particularly like this comment of Danny’s. It’s the first shadow across her sunny countenance since they met.

Not much of a one, though.

Not compared to what’s coming her way.

“Maybe he should get together with Petra,” I giggle into Paul’s ear, so no-one but he can hear.

Paul cracks up. “Yeah, make a fabulous couple,” he sputters.

Danny and Petra look at us, wondering what we’re sniggering about. Me and Paul just laugh.

Paul grins over at the wrecked drunken saddo. “Can’t blame you for looking, dude. She’s fucking gorgeous, my girlfriend, isn’t she?”

Saddo is silent. He’s crushed.

“What’s up? Cat got your tongue?”

Paul starts stroking me, up and down my legs. “I just love her in this hot little skirt, dude, don’t you?” he taunts. “Can’t wait to rip it off her later.”

“Ha ha ha, nice one, sugar. And that’s exactly what I want you doing. So c’mon, let’s go,” I say.

It’s pretty much closing time anyway, and we’ve finished our drinks. Definitely time to go.

*

We get up and Petra and I go off to wait outside while the boys take a leak. They say they’ll meet us out there.

Their route to the toilets takes them right past saddo and I see Paul just casually rap his knuckles down on the top of this abject guy’s head as he cruises by. Ouch!

Petra doesn’t catch it, which is just as well. She hasn’t enjoyed that whole episode tonight with the old guy.

She’s looking rather serious, in fact, as we’re walking off towards the exit to wait outside for the boys. “That was a bit cruel, Emily, wasn’t it?” she mutters to me. “Poor man.”

I nearly lose my temper with her, but I catch myself just in time. Jeez, she thinks that was cruel. So what about what I have in store for her later? What do we call that?

So, no, I keep it light. “Yeah, sorry, I guess it was a bit. Still, nobody died, sweetie, right?”

That’s good enough for Petra. She happies up, all the more so a few minutes later when she spies Danny and Paul leaving the bar and walking towards us.

They’ve been quite a long time with their ‘taking a leak’ and poor little Petra has been getting a little concerned.

“You don’t think they’ve changed their minds, Em, do you?” she asks me, after we’d been waiting a while.

“Done a runner? Oh fuck, yeah, maybe,” I say, toying with her.

“Really? Oh gosh no. Do you think?”

You should have seen her face. Anxiety doesn’t cover it.

I let her fret for a bit, pretend to think long and hard about the question.

Then I crack up laughing at her.

“Don’t be silly, sweetie! They’ll be along soon. I know when boys are up for it, trust me, and these two are up for it with us. They probably need to talk about a couple of things. You know, probably just need to get their ducks in a row before they come back with us.”

OMG, I’m the devil!

Because I so enjoyed telling her that.

And the way her little face brightened and relaxed as she listened intently to me!

“Okay, yes, I see.”

“You’re excited, sweetie, aren’t you?” I teased.

It’s kinda like I’m talking to a child, not somebody four years older than me.

“Oh, wow, yes!” she blurts.

LOL!

“Good. That’s good, sweetie. Something tells me Danny’s gonna have a really nice time tonight!”

Just couldn’t resist it!

OMG.

Am I the biggest bitch on god’s earth?

You don’t have to answer that.

But anyway, the boys are here now, and they definitely have had that ‘little talk’ I was referring to. They do have their ducks in a row. The ear to ear grin on Danny is telling me that. Didn’t need the furtive little smile and thumbs up I got from Paul. Nice to get it anyway though. Shows he’s on the ball.

“Okay, ladies, let’s grab a cab!” Danny says, and he smiles right at Petra.

On the ball too. Following instructions. Good boy.

Danny winks at me when Petra is eyes down and rooting in her bag. He has the wickedest grin on his face! I grin back, savouring this sexy situation that I’ve engineered so skilfully.

I pout at Danny, stick my tongue out, blow the besotted boy a kiss, all right over poor unsuspecting Petra’s head.

I love the insinuating way that Danny is looking at me, the second he got the chance. He wants me bad, I can tell. He can hardly wait. Good!

He’ll just have to wait a little longer, though, won’t he?

But maybe not that long because Paul has already managed to hail a taxi and it’s pulling kerb-side to pick us up.

Paul gets in first and takes one of the two rear-facing jump seats.

I indicate for Petra to go next. “You and Danny take the back seat,” I suggest.

She hesitates.

“Go on, sweetie, it’s fine. Me and Paul will be okay on the jumps.”

“Okay, Em, thanks,” Petra smiles.

Danny springs to hold open the door and lend a hand (what a gentleman!) as Petra levers her unseemly bulk inside the cab. She plops herself down in the back and shuffles across to the far corner, opposite Paul, leaving space for Danny to get in next to her.

Danny and I gurn sardonically at each other while she’s occupied with this. “What a fucking whale!” he whispers into my ear, making me giggle.

Petra looks sharply across at me, but it’s cool, Danny’s mouth is out of my ear and it just looks like I’m giggling the way girls sometimes do, at nothing in particular.

Paul can tell we’re messing around, me and Danny, but he’s just kinda sitting there minding his own business, like he’s meant to be.

I’m impressed with both my boys so far. Take their cues from me, I said, and they certainly are. It bodes well for the rest of the night. Yeah, I really think tonight is gonna work out. It’s gonna be one of the all-time greats.

I get into the taxi next and Danny gives me a helping hand too although I don’t need it, a hand on my butt, to be precise.

He’s holding the car door open with his right hand, meaning he has his left one free and he squeezes my ass with it as I make to climb in. He knows that Petra can’t see from where she is.

I know Petra can’t see either, and I like what Danny is doing, so I hold still for a moment and let him carry on. I’m still mainly outside the car, just have the one foot in the door.

Then I figure why not prolong and expand the experience. I look around quickly, check that there’s nobody on the street close enough to worry about, and then I ‘accidentally’ drop my bag on the floor of the taxi.

“Shit,” I mutter, stooping to retrieve it.

I bend over nice and slowly so that Danny’s hand stays in place on my butt, my peachy ass now rising provocatively up towards him, tight skirt riding miles up the back of my thighs. I practice this position in front of the mirror sometimes, so I know precisely the vista that Danny is getting.

Danny figures quickly and correctly what my game is (okay so it’s not rocket science!) and he does what I hope and expect. He does what any self-respecting horny boy in this position would do. Danny gives in to temptation. He slides his hand deftly up under the back of my skirt and starts to caress my butt through my little silk panties.

Meanwhile, I get a bit clumsy with picking up my bag. It kinda falls on its side and a few girly things come tumbling out.

Paul offers to help but I tell him no, it’s no problem, I can manage.

He says okay and settles back in his seat. There’s an amused expression on his face because, from his angle, Paul can tell what’s going on with Danny and me.

Petra can’t though. She’s in the far back corner of the cab. From there, with the way I’m positioned and with how the door is, she can’t see any of what’s happening except the ostensible situation. Her ditzy bimbo of a roommate is bent forward into the taxi and grappling with this dropped bag scenario. My face a little bit flustered, while her beau Danny is waiting patiently outside, holding the door, waiting for ditzy roommate to get straightened out and properly installed, so that he can then join her on the back seat of the taxi and we can all finally get going back to our place.

The taxi driver can’t see either, although I’m sure he suspects something fishy!

Tough, he’s the driver. He just needs to sit at the wheel and wait. Meter’s on, right? So he’s earning.

Danny fondles me good. He kneads my buttocks through my knickers, which feels nice, and then, even nicer, he gets his hand inside, horny bastard, and it’s flesh on flesh. Soon there’s a wickedly teasing finger working its magic in my asshole and down between my legs.

OMG, thrilling! The boy must be left handed!

Certainly knows exactly what he’s doing. This is to fucking die for!

I risk a few quick glances up at Petra as I’m being pleasured. She’s chatting to Paul, but also checking on my progress in dealing with this bag hassle. She’s keen to get going.

Well she would be, wouldn’t she? She’s pulled a boy at last!

Trouble is, the boy in question is busy right now, busy inside my knickers, and OMG the stupid cow has no fucking clue!

Paul is just about managing to control himself, seeing what’s going on.

It takes some time for me to sort this bag of mine out (quite a few bits and pieces have fallen out unfortunately) and Danny makes great use of it. He really treats himself.

It’s a treat for me too, trust me. I succeed in keeping a straight face, christ knows how, but I have to keep my mouth firmly shut because I know if I opened it I’d be purring like a cat. I’m panting a little and I’m wet by the time I’m in the car and installed on the second jump seat.

But not as wet as Petra probably is about twenty minutes later.

Because Danny sure does the business, there in the back of this taxi. Once we get moving he follows my instructions to the latter.

Petra looks over at me, kind of uncertain, as Danny first starts getting frisky with her. Not because she doesn’t want him to (she so fucking does) but because me and my beau are sat apart on the jump seats. We have to wait until we’re home before we can get intimate, and I think that Petra feels slightly guilty about this, about having the back seat and being able to get cracking before me, which is kinda typical of Petra. She’s a sweet girl in many ways. She’s also maybe a little embarrassed that me and Paul are facing them and can see everything.

I deal with this firmly. “Hey don’t worry about us, sweetie. You two lovebirds go right ahead and enjoy yourselves!” I tell her.

And boy do they ever!

Danny kisses Petra long and passionately and he keeps it up for pretty much the whole of the ride back.

And not just that. Petra gets way more than a snog. Petra gets the complete package. She gets her neck smooched and her ear gently nibbled and softly whispered into. She gets a pair of strong male hands roving around and going places, stroking her face, squeezing her thigh, pressing her breasts through her dress.

Paul and I grin at each other as Danny does his dirty work. We’re getting a sadistic kick out of watching the back seat action, knowing that this particular passion will never be consummated.

From my seat diagonally across from her, I get a great view of Petra’s blissful reactions to Danny’s ardour. Her eyes are closed tight as they smooch, soft little giggles of surprised delight bubbling out as his hands take liberties. When Danny starts stroking her cheek with his hand, his left hand, I wonder if her nose is picking up the faintest trace of my juices. I do hope so.

Like I say, journey takes about twenty minutes, and a couple of minutes after that the four of us are inside our room and it’s time to party.