Judy Grant began spending a lot of nights with her mother. This provided her eighteen-year-old friend Danielle plenty of opportunities to be alone with Mr. Grant.
Over the following months the older man introduced the pretty brunette to a world of sexual adventures and pleasures. Sometimes he was rough and demanding; throwing her across his bed or the coffee table and taking her with animalistic fervor, calling her a dirty slut and howling about how she loved cock. Other times he showered her body with delicate kisses before gently penetrating her, telling her she was beautiful and calling her a sweet girl. They made love in his tile and glass shower. They fucked on the desk in his home office.
Through some awkward missteps and failures she learned how to give a quality blow-job, discovering along the way that she enjoyed it. Her sex would grow wet while she slid her lips along his rigid shaft and sometimes she fingered herself to orgasm just before he exploded in her mouth.
One night he presented her with a vibrator, then watched her use it on herself.
He also introduced her to anal sex.
No matter the place or the escapade, the girl reveled in the experiences; quaking through multiple, explosive orgasms and routinely finding herself trembling and breathless afterwards.
She'd learned long ago that guys appreciated a girl in a school uniform, and Mr. Grant was no exception. He especially liked a top she found that was from her freshman year and was now a bit small on her, its crisp white material was strained by her pert, young breasts. Since she couldn't wear it to school she left it at his place where she'd change into it if the evening warranted. He also liked it when she wore either frilly Barbie-socks or thigh-high white stockings.
She was wearing the little Barbie-socks one Friday evening when she arrived to find he had company.
"Hey Sweetie," he greeted her at the door.
She discreetly waited until he'd shut the door behind her to reach up on her tiptoes and kiss him passionately, her body leaning into his.
"Listen, Joe and Ken are here," he informed her after their lips parted. "And Bill's gonna be coming by too. It's about a special project I've been working on."
"Oh? How long do you think you'll be?" She pouted, unhappy with the idea of having to wait for his undivided attention.
"It's probably gonna be a while," he cupped her ass through her skirt, pulling her into him.
Danielle had met her lover's friends previously. Usually when they were over she'd simply disappear into the bedroom and amuse herself until they left. But she had spent a few times sitting with them all, listening to their conversations and generally being bored.
It turned out that this time Mr. Grant wanted her to join them.
"Why don't you change your top and hang out with us," he said.
Leaning back she gazed up into his face, her head quizzically tilted slightly, her thick hair swayed with the action. He was smirking mischievously. She assumed it meant that he merely wished to have a little fun with his friends. That he simply wanted to tease them. She knew he enjoyed showing off - or more accurately - showing HER off. He delighted in his friend's envy. But only he had ever seen her in the too-small top.
Now he was asking her to wear it in front of these other men.
Beyond his mischievous smirk his eye had an excited spark. She couldn't interpret that, but it did make her heart race and her breath catch.
"Um... Ok," she finally whispered.
After another passionate kiss they separated and Danielle stepped into the living room. When she did both men stood up from their seats to greet her, their smiles genuine, their eyes enthusiastic.
"Hello Mr. Craig, Mr. Stone," she said while their gazes crawled over her body. She was always a little nervous in these moments, when her lover's friends would devour her with their eyes. But when Mr. Grant stepped up beside her and rested his hand on the small of her back it calmed her slightly. "Won't you all excuse me for a minute? I need to... um..." she hesitated, unsure of what to say. She didn't want to tell them she was going to change, but she didn't know what else she could say. "I'll be right back," she finally stammered.
As she walked through the living room, past the men and into the hall, she felt their eyes follow her. Felt them admiring the way her skirt covered the small orb that was her ass.
Her freshly laundered top was right where it always was, hanging in the master bedroom closet. Putting it on she remembered she'd never worn a bra with it before. She quickly realized why too. She couldn't. The top was so tight that with any extra padding - even the thin layer of her simplest bra - kept her from hooking any of the upper buttons. So she had to either go with her bra-encased breasts near fully exposed. Or wear it like usual - braless. This made the outline of her breasts obvious beneath the stretched material, which was the majority of the reason Mr. Grant liked it so much. Either way the men would be getting quite an image. Wrestling with the options she decided to skip the bra since it seemed that likely be what Mr. Grant expected.
She still didn't understand why he wanted her wearing it now . . . in front of his friends.
Suddenly she felt a rush as her flesh began to simmer gently and she realized it was the idea of these other men seeing her in the outfit that was causing her body to react so. For a moment she stood there trying to understand her reaction, but like Mr. Grant asking her to do it in the first place, she couldn't explain it.
So she took a few deep breaths, bracing herself. Then she headed back to the living room.
Her return was greeted with enthusiasm. All three men stood and watched her walk over to stand beside Mr. Grant. Her cheeks reddened as six eyes devoured the sight of her taxed blouse.
Beaming with pride Mr. Grant slipped an arm around her. His fingers gently held her arm so that when they sat down on the couch he forced her to sit facing straight ahead. Meanwhile the arm behind her back compelled her to jut her chest out, effectively offering his friends with an enhanced display.
A fact they didn't fail to notice. Or enjoy. Sitting in chairs across from the couch, the coffee table between them, they openly admired her.
Their attentions kept Danielle's cheeks rosy with color even as she tried to ignore them.
She'd always been aware of their admiring glances, but they had been just that . . . glances. Gazes that lingered for an extra moment before being redirected. But today their gazes were not being redirected. No. Their eyes were openly crawling over her again and again.
She found herself revisiting a thought she'd had after meeting each of them; would she date, or more honestly sleep with them? While neither of the men were exactly hunks, they were good looking and in shape and she had to admit to herself that had either of them been her friend's father that day some months earlier...
The line of thought was interrupted by the doorbell.
Danielle's heartbeat suddenly leapt ahead a few beats. Of his friends, Mr. Kole was the best looking. In fact he was nearly as handsome as Mr. Grant himself and she'd developed a little crush on him.
Entering the room Mr. Kole's eyes instantly tracked to her. "Danielle, you're as beautiful as ever," his smile reflected the admiration in his gaze.
"Thank you, Sir," she whispered, her own gaze dropping, her cheeks darkening.
"Drink?" Mr. Grant indicated the bar.
