My eyes shot to the mirror. Zoe’s brown eyes were crystal clear. Her mouth hung slightly open, smudged with dark lipstick. She was breathing heavily. “I promise,” I croaked, my heart thundering. Zoe turned around, leaning back against the vanity. I could smell countless Bacardi Breezers on her breath, watermelon by all accounts. Staring at me seriously, she dropped her eyes between us for a moment, then looked back up expectantly. She swallowed. I scanned down her body, past the plunging neckline of her dress and over the full breasts it struggled to conceal. I could see she’d spilled something in her lap. The shimmering, blue fabric was stained in large spots running from her navel to the hem halfway down her thighs. I rubbed one of the marks between my fingers, feeling a crusty, almost greasy sensation. “What is that?” The realisation already striking me as the words escaped my mouth. “There was this guy,” she breathed, her trembling words barely audible above the pulse hammering. Victor came back into the living room. He had changed from his dresspants and button-down into his khakis and a thick t-shirt. God, he lookedcomfortable. Clean, crisp t-shirts looked so good on his buff physique. Ihad forgotten he kept a supply in my guest bathroom closet. His smile wasdisarming as he handed me a new wineglass waiting for my lip prints todecorate its edge."Are you hungry?" he asked."No, I'm enjoying the wine," I answered.And I was; my cheeks were feeling warm. I was getting a little hot andbothered. Victor got to me when he was so dressed. My nipples distendedslightly, and goose bumps made my areola pull my breast skin taunt as Itook a fresh draught of the cool nectar. I did not know if Victor wascausing my reaction or the wine.He looked at me hungrily, hovering over me a tad too long before takinghis seat. During that short span, I looked up into his eyes, and thepause was intense. The moist spot forming on my expensive panties was notfrom the wine. I closed my eyes.
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