Her lips parted. I felt them brush against mine. Our tongues met. Softly. Timidly.
Well, she was timid. I was enjoying drawing it out. I tried to look her in the eyes, but she refused to look at me.
I slid my hand up her inner thigh, my fingers gently caressing barely an inch from her pussy. I let my tongue rub lightly over her lip.
Oh, I wanted to kiss her, meek, innocent Olivia. But I wanted her to kiss me more. I wanted her to make the choice.
Quiet Olivia, who’d never kissed another woman. Olivia who loved her boyfriend so much, and wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. Olivia, who’d just admitted that if I went into her bedroom right then, her boyfriend would fuck me – even while knowing she sat in the next room.
Yeah, I was a little drunk on wine. But I was mostly drunk on the sense of power. Knowing that her boyfriend would rather have me was such a thrill. I was high on the ego boost.