Voyeur - Lacey Alexander [66]
Tommy gave her a chiding look. “Why don’t you let me be the judge?”
Bold from the beer, Laura obliged without hesitation, raising the hem of her sweater up over her stomach. Tommy leaned forward across the table to look, lifting his hand to gently pat her belly. “Ah, now, you sold yourself short. I see at least the hint of a four-pack there.”
She raised her eyebrows, laughing, even as her pussy tingled lightly—the result of his touch. “A four-pack?”
“Sure,” he answered easily. “Next best thing to six. Trust me—it’s very sexy.” He added a wink. “Most women would give their right arms for a pretty stomach like that.”
She couldn’t help feeling flattered—and utterly feminine.
“She has great tits, too,” Braden said.
She gasped, letting her eyes go wide on him as heat filled her cheeks. “Braden!”
But her lover only grinned. “Sorry, honey—that just came out. Tommy here happens to be a connoisseur of fine breasts, so I figured he’d be interested.”
“Is that so?” Laura shifted her gaze to her other dinner companion, drunk enough to have forgotten her embarrassment that quickly.
Tommy flashed a mischievous smile. “I just have a habit of . . . noticing that about women. More than other guys, I’ve been told. But hell, what can I say—I like boobs.” His grin was so endearing that Laura didn’t feel the least bit uncomfortable with the conversation, and she couldn’t help thinking both Tommy and Braden were getting a little drunk themselves—each having downed several beers over the pizza.
“Let me guess,” Laura said. “The bigger the better.”
Tommy spread his hands and shrugged, admitting it. “But,” he added, “I’m getting tired of fake ones that are too big. If a girl wants a little enhancement, cool—but they go overboard sometimes.” He didn’t bother with subtlety as he dropped his gaze to Laura’s chest. “I can tell yours are real—and pretty damn perfect, too. Am I right?”
Braden answered before she could concoct a reply. “Damn straight, they’re perfect.”
She cast him a sexy smile, her breasts feeling heavy, achy now, and her cunt rippling with sensation. Not only did she like being with them both—she liked being the center of their attention, and liked knowing they both found her body attractive. With Braden, it was nothing new, but Tommy’s added presence seemed to somehow amplify her sensuality.
After dinner, they moved to the living room, all settling on the sofa as the adjacent chair was piled with towels Braden had run through the washing machine earlier but hadn’t yet folded. She couldn’t help recalling it was the same sofa where she’d touched herself for Braden.
He sat at one end and Laura leaned her head back against his chest. His arms came around her in a cozy, easy embrace, and his thumb hooked into the top of her jeans, his fingers caressing just below, over-top the denim. A couple of inches lower and his caress would have been a fondle. Tommy sat opposite them, and she was tempted to remind Braden they had company—yet she didn’t, for reasons she couldn’t explain to herself.
“Laura got to see Stan and Candy going at it earlier,” Braden tossed out.
She supposed it should have embarrassed her, but nothing seemed to at this point.
“Ah. What did you think of their little show?” Tommy asked on a deep laugh.
Intoxication made her unflinchingly honest. “He’s pretty hot for an older guy. And she had great breasts.”
“Definitely fake,” Tommy pointed out, one finger in the air, “but as fake ones go, yeah, they’re pretty nice.”
Laura let her gaze widen on him. “You’ve seen them, too?” Was there anyone who hadn’t seen Stan and Candy having sex?
Tommy nodded, chuckling as he shifted sideways to pull one knee up beside him on the couch, and Laura became aware that her sock-covered foot, stretched out along the cushions, now touched his jean-clad thigh. Normally, she would have pulled her foot back, but neither of them made the effort to move. His leg felt thick and warm. “I keep an eye on Braden’s place in between his visits,” he explained. “Came down one day last winter to spend a few hours just