KARINA [looks to camera]Pick me up next?
Chapter Twenty-ThreeCarys
@mellytonin:I love that Patrick didn’t do the sexy dances. He’s so loyal to Carys!!!
@regularsizedhorse:Dear @WeddedBlissUK please find some men with rizz for s2
@wokemacarena:I’m vomming at that leg lick
I thought after seeing the men go first, the waiting wouldn’t be so bad. But after the screams of laughter and delight, I’m not sure I can make anyone feel that good.
Bless Patrick, he did a pretty good job and went the comedy route instead of trying to be sexy. Honestly I prefer that. I might have felt strange if I saw him lick another girl’s ear, but Bridget seemed to enjoy watching Jackson do that.
It’ll be less weird when he meets my family if they haven’t seen him oiled up. Not that it’s a bad thing, but I’d never hear the end of it.
Production pick the order we go in, I guess because they’ve cued up the songs.
It’s Dolly’s turn to go first, and I try to pay attention in a way that seems the appropriate amount. We haven’t spokensince the dressing room – I think the girls were ready to put us in a timeout if we started up again.
She walks out in a navy silk robe and as the rumbling, fuzzy beat of ‘Vigilante Shit’ by Taylor Swift starts playing, she loosens it. The silk slides down her skin, and I hate the way my heart skips a beat as I follow the falling fabric tracing her thighs. Underneath she wears a completely see-through fishnet bodysuit under a black leather bodice.
The men gasp, she smiles, and my skin prickles.
One by one, she dances slowly on the men. It’s all eye contact and slow movement, edging them closer and closer to begging.
I’m vaguely aware that the other girls are screaming next to me, and I know I should be doing the same. But I can’t make a sound. My throat is caught.
It can’t be that weird, can it? Maybe the other girls are getting turned on too. Voyeurism is sexy, and we’re watching our men get turned on.
That’s all it is.
That’sallit is.
I can plead with myself but as she whispers something in Malachi’s ear, I’m transported back to that night. The way she traced my skin, made me wait for her touch. I see it here now, in how she performs for these men.
When she gets to Patrick, she lowers herself onto one of his legs, and grinds her body along. I know she’s doing that just to fuck with me, but all I feel is a deep pulsing heat between my legs.
Every gyration is a sense memory on my skin. I lick my lips, bite down on them to distract myself, but I’m flooded with the scent of her perfume, the ghost of her biting my bottom lip, and nipping down my neck.
Her final dance is for Warren, teasing, teasing. Nevertouching. And when she finally does, with just a fingernail along his jaw, it’s like I feel it on my skin.
I’m on fire. I’m wet. I feel like I want to die if she doesn’t touch me.
It’s only when Bridget nudges me and shouts, ‘Doesn’t she look fab?’ that I wake up from the possession. I nod vigorously and laugh excitedly like the other girls, clapping along. I even throw out awhoo.
I try to get a hold of myself, I really do. I try to forget.
But when she turns around to face us as she lowers herself down onto Warren’s lap, I can’t stop looking at the crease between her breasts. I want to run my tongue down that line, all the way down.
Bridget nudges me again. ‘You alright, babe?’
‘Just nervous,’ I bleat. ‘And, you know, urghDolly.’
Bridget lingers a little too long on me. ‘Yeah, babe.’
When the music cuts out, I’m pretty sure I can hear my own heart beating in my ears.
And when she stands up, Dolly looks right at me and smiles.
