Author: lapetiterousse

Megan’s petite form looked vulnerable sitting on the oversized couch tucked into the darkened corner of the club. Illuminated in softened red and purple light she was stunning in her sheer mesh black top, and suspendered black flared miniskirt and black stiletto heels. She’d worn a fitted trench-coat overtop her racy attire, which was sitting loosely over her shoulders now that we were alone, allowing her breasts to peek through the see-through top. Her red hair appeared to almost black in the dim filtered lighting, and her dark eye makeup and red lipstick contrasted strikingly with her pale skin. She reminded me of Amy Adams from the film Nocturnal Animals that night, all tiny and posh, America’s sweetheart done up as the femme fatale. A girl next door turned into a public whore.
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On the way to the bar I’d suggested Megan not wear her coat in the car, she obliged and at least one suv full of frat boys got an eyeful of her slutty outfit as we sat at a light long enough for them to aim their cell phones at her and shout lewd things. By the time we pulled into the parking lot I was so hard I could feel precum leaking out of my cock. I pulled her to me, seat belt still attached and kissed, groped, and fingered her to her first orgasm that evening. A guy sitting in his car smoking a cigarette next to us didn’t seem to mind the show. We went inside and spent about a half hour sipping our cocktails, teasing and kissing one another in the front room of the club as we waited for our guest to arrive; a guy we’d met online only a few days prior that was interested in a mfm threesome and agreed to meet us that evening for some fun. I’ll refer to him as Carl for the remainder of the recounting. It was early for a Saturday, barely past 8pm. We’d intentionally decided on the earlier rendezvous to give ourselves more time later for the main event. As an added bonus, we had plenty of privacy as the place was dead…and dark. We took a few selfies, mainly of what was under her skirt…and then what was under her skirt without her panties. She’d slid them down her legs and over her knees sitting right there in the middle of the place, put them in her mouth and told me to take a picture. Megan flashed me and the camera her tits beneath her tight sheer top so many times, eventually I told her to just keep her tits out. So she did, leaving the trench belt untied, the front loosely hanging open, revealing her perky b-cups and hard nipples beneath the black mesh halter top. No one was entering the place and the handful of patrons that were there had glued themselves to barstools behind us a dozen paces away. Beforelong I received a message from Carl, saying he’d be arriving shortly, so I suggested we head to the familiar lounge area in back for even more privacy.
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I’d left Megan sitting on the couch in the quiet and unoccupied lounge area to order us another round of cocktails when I ran into Carl as he was coming in the front entrance. We exchanged greetings and chatted very briefly, me giving him a rundown of what had already transpired that evening, even showing him a few of the pics we’d taken, before I directed him to where she was still waiting on the couch in back of the place. I said I’d join them shortly after our drinks arrived and added that he should help himself to “a handful” of her while they waited. He gave a smirk and a nod before ducking into the darkened back area. Read more »