“You were 'wearing clothing', huh? You're a horrible story teller. Do these girls have names?” she asked, propping her foot up on the island top.

“Probably,” was all he said, and she laughed.

“Terrible. So okay, we'll say Thing One is Slutty One - right up your alley. Thing Two, Demure Temptress. How long did it take you to talk them in to coming home with you?” she asked. He snorted.

“I didn't talk them in to shit, Tate. We had appetizers, I told them I was going home, they asked to join me. Demure Temptress sucked my dick during the cab ride to my hotel,” Jameson stated.

“Oh my. Lucky cab driver,” Tate whispered.

“Once we got in to my room, I sat on the balcony while they took turns blowing me. Slutty One couldn't wait any longer, and climbed on top of me right out there,” he continued.

“What was Demure Temptress doing?” Tate asked, staring up at the ceiling.

“She went back in to the room, got naked. Stretched out on the bed. Played with herself,” his voice was soft. Tate could feel her breathing pick up.

“Did you like that?”

“Very much so.”

“What else?”

“I carried the slutty sister in to the room, laid down on the bed between them. You can touch yourself, Tate, it's okay,” Jameson said when her finger began to trace lines above her bikini. She laughed.

“I don't need your permission,” she pointed out.

“Wrong.”

Her hand dived underneath the bathing suit material and she closed her eyes. She brought her other leg up so both knees were in the air, the balls of her feet balanced on the edge of the island. Sometimes she wondered who was better at touching her – herself, or Jameson. Her fingers could thread her like a needle; precise, knew exactly how to touch. Jameson was more like silk; smooth, finessing everything. She began to pant.

“What else?” she moaned.

“Fuck, Tate, what did I do to deserve you?” his voice sounded strained. She chuckled.

“Nothing, yet. Keep talking, please,” she begged, her other hand joining the first as she gently eased a finger in to her opening.

“The demure sister rode my cock for a while, while slutty girl let me see how many fingers I could fit inside of her. Then they traded places,” he continued. Tate moaned, pushing her hips in to the air. She dragged one hand away, brought it to her hair and pulled a little.

“Get to the part with the ropes,” she gasped.

“Tatum, naughty girl, you want me to tie you up, don't you?” Jameson asked.

“I want you to do whatever you fucking want,” she said, and then cried out, pushing two fingers inside.

“Good answer. I didn't have any rope, I had to use the slutty one's tights. I tied her down flat to the mattress, to the legs of the bed. Bent the demure one in half right beside the other girl and fucked her as hard as I could.”

“Oh my god, did you talk? Did you talk to them the way you talk to me?” the words rushed out of Tate, her voice sounding like she was almost whining. His story, the picture he was painting, was getting her so hot, she almost didn't need her hand to help her get off.

“Oh no. No, I reserve that for people that I think can actually handle it. That's why sex has always been better with you – I can always be myself,” he told her in a whisper. She moaned again, long and low, her fingers thrusting in and out of herself.

“I'm glad,” she whispered, the hand in her hair going behind her head, gripping onto edge of the island.

“Not to say that boring, old, regular sex doesn't help pass the time. After demure one came apart all around me, I moved onto slutty one. Left her tied up, so I could do anything I wanted to her,” Jameson's voice was almost menacing sounding.

“What did you do?” Tate's voice was starting to shake. She didn't want to come, not without him inside her, but she couldn't stop her fingers.

“What do you think I did?” he asked.

“Did you go down on her?” she asked, and then held her breath.

“No. I don't do that for just anybody,” he informed her. It made her happy to hear it, he hadn't done that for her yet.

“I noticed.”

“You want me to go down on you, Tate?” he asked.

“I don't care.”

“I consider that a very big favor. It's quite a treat for me to give. You would owe me, big time,” he told her. She shook her head.

“Obviously, I don't need your favors,” she managed to chuckle, but it turned in to a gasp as a tremor ripped through her body, forcing her hips in to the air again. She was so close ...,

“What the the fuck did you just say to me?” Jameson snapped. She smiled, pressing her knees together.

“God, yes, talk to me like that,” she moaned, her fingers moving fast, running a race against him.

“Shut the fuck up and stop moving,” he ordered. She shook her head.

“Can't. Sorry,” she whispered, her breathing beginning to hitch.

She hadn't heard him move, but suddenly she felt his hand on her knee. She turned her head forward and opened her eyes to find him staring down at her. He slid his hand between her thighs, moving them apart. She finally pulled her hand free of her bottoms, but he grabbed her by the wrist and raised her hand to his face, wrapping his lips around two of her fingers. She moaned again, scratching the nails of her free hand down her thigh. His tongue swirled around her sticky sweet fingers, and then he slowly pulled them free.