Billie - Part 2

"A little," she admitted.

"High card draw," Tom said. "Simple. Elegant. No strategy, just fate." He dealt three cards face down, one for each of us. "Lowest card removes one item of clothing. Highest card... chooses what happens next."

Billie's eyes widened. "Chooses?"

"Within reason," Tom said, his smile disarming. "A kiss. A touch. A confession. Something small that builds trust."

"And if I don't want to?" Billie asked, her voice brave but trembling slightly.

Tom set down the cards and looked at her directly. "Then you say stop, and we stop. No explanations needed. No disappointment. The game is only fun if everyone wants to play." He took her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. "Billie, Anne and I are here to ensure you feel cherished. Nothing more, nothing less. Your comfort is the only rule that matters."

That was Tom at his best.

Commanding, yes. But he was always a gentleman. A gentleman of pleasure.

I moved to sit beside her, our thighs touching.

"He means that," I whispered. "We both do. This is about your pleasure. Your discovery. We're just... guides."

She looked at me, then at Tom, and something in her shoulders loosened.

"All right," she said. "Then I think I should play."

The first round was mostly laughter. Nervous laughter, but still laughter.

Billie drew a seven. Tom drew a king. I drew a four.

"Anne loses," Tom announced, his eyes warm. "What shall your forfeit be?"

Billie looked at me, suddenly shy. "Your earrings?"

I removed them slowly, letting Tom see my neck, my shoulders. "There," I said. "Now you know I'm serious."

The second round: Tom drew a two. Billie drew a jack. I drew a queen.

"Tom loses," I said, delighted.

Billie thought for a moment, then said, "Your shirt. But... slowly."

Tom stood, unbuttoning with deliberate care, his eyes never leaving hers. "As the lady requests," he said. When he removed it, he didn't throw it aside. He folded it neatly, then took his seat again. "Better?"

Billie nodded, her gaze tracing his chest, his shoulders.

The third round: I drew a three. Tom drew an ace. Billie drew a five.

"Anne loses again," Tom said. "Billie, what would you like?"

Billie looked at me, then at Tom. "Her dress. But... I want to help her out of it."

Tom nodded, giving permission with his eyes.

I stood and turned my back to her. I felt Billie's fingers find my zip, trembling slightly as she lowered it. "You're so beautiful," she whispered, just for me.

I let the dress fall, turning to face her in my black lace bra and panties. "Thank you," I said. "So are you."

The fourth round: Billie drew a three. I drew a nine. Tom drew a ten.

"Billie loses," Tom said gently. "And I believe... it's your turn to choose your forfeit."

She stood, her hands shaking slightly. "My skirt," she said. "But I want Anne to help."

I moved to her, standing close. "May I?" I asked, just as she had asked me.

She nodded.

I untied the knot slowly, and the skirt fell away, revealing legs that went on forever and panties that were already damp at the centre. She swayed slightly, and I steadied her with my hands on her hips.

Tom dimmed the lamp beside him.

The room became softer.

"Exquisite," he said, and I could see what that single word did to her. Not crude appreciation. Genuine awe. "Billie, you are exquisite."

The fifth round: Tom drew a queen. Billie drew a two. I drew a six.

"Billie loses again," Tom said. "And as the winner... I choose the forfeit."

She held her breath.

"I want you to tell us something true," Tom said. "Something you've never told anyone. Something you want."

Billie looked down, then up at him. "I want..." She paused, gathering courage. "I want to feel like I'm the only woman in the world. Just for one night. I want to be the centre of attention. I want to be... worshipped."

Tom's expression softened into something tender. "Billie," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "You've just described exactly what I want to give you."

He stood and offered her his hand. "Come. Let us show you."

She took it, and he led us toward the bedroom, where candles flickered on the dresser. He had prepared this, not in a calculated way, but in the way he always prepared for pleasure, with attention to atmosphere and detail.

"Billie," Tom said, his voice warm honey, "lie back on the bed. Let us take care of you."

She positioned herself, her head on the pillows, looking vulnerable but safe in Tom's care. I knelt beside her, and Tom knelt on her other side.

"Anne and I are going to touch you," Tom said. "But only where you want. Only how you want. You tell us. You guide us. This is your pleasure, Billie. We're just here to provide it."

He started with her hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing each fingertip. "Your hands create beauty," he said. "Let us thank them."

I started at her feet, massaging her arches, her heels, the balls of her feet. Tom worked his way up her arm, his lips trailing from her wrist to her shoulder, then across her collarbone.

"May I remove your bra?" he asked, pausing.

"Yes," she breathed.

He unhooked it with practiced ease, but he didn't rush to touch her breasts. Instead, he sat back and simply looked at her. "You're stunning," he said. "Truly. May I kiss them?"

"Please," she whispered.

He lowered his mouth to her breast, not grabbing, not rough, but tender, worshipful. His tongue circled her nipple until it hardened, then he sucked gently, his hand supporting the weight of her, cradling her like something precious.

I moved up her body, my hands stroking her thighs, her hips, the curve of her waist. "You're soft here," I murmured. "Beautiful."

"Anne," Tom said, looking up from Billie's breast. "Help me make her feel cherished."

Together we worked her panties down her legs, Tom kissing each inch of skin revealed, me following with my hands. When she was naked, we both paused, simply admiring her.

"Tell us what you need," Tom said. "Use your words. We want to give you exactly what you want."

"I need..." She blushed but forced herself to continue. "I need you to touch me. Both of you. I need to feel desired."

Tom smiled, that warm, wicked smile. "Your wish," he said, "is our command."

He positioned himself between her legs, but he didn't rush to enter her. Instead, he lowered his mouth to her thigh and simply breathed against her skin, letting her feel the warmth, the anticipation.

"Tom," she whimpered.

"Patience," he murmured. "Remember what I said about flowers? They bloom when they're ready."

Then he began to kiss her, slow, open-mouthed kisses on her thighs, her hips, the crease where her leg met her body. He was everywhere except where she most wanted him, building her desire until she was arching off the bed, her hands fisting the sheets.

I moved to the other side, kissing her mouth deeply, my hand finding her breast and rolling her nipple between my fingers. When Tom finally, finally, dragged his tongue through her folds, Billie cried out against my lips, her whole-body tensing with the shock of it.

"She's soaked," Tom murmured, looking up at me with dark eyes. "Anne, taste her."

We swapped places. Tom moved to kiss her mouth, to swallow her sounds, while I settled between her thighs. Her scent was intoxicating, musky and sweet, evidence of how ready she was. I started with soft kisses on her outer lips, teasing, letting her feel the warmth of my breath before I touched her with my tongue.

When I finally licked her, it was with the flat of my tongue, broad and firm, from the bottom of her slit to the top, circling her clit but not quite touching it directly. Billie moaned, her hips lifting involuntarily, seeking more pressure.

"Please," she begged. "Please, don't stop."

I didn't stop. But I didn't give her what she needed to come, either. I kept her hovering, licking steadily, feeling her tension build, her thighs trembling on either side of my head. When I felt her getting close, when her breath hitched and her stomach muscles tightened, I pulled back, pressing gentle kisses to her inner thighs instead.

"No," she whimpered. "Please, I was so close."

"I know," I said softly. "Trust us."

Tom returned to her then, his mouth replacing mine. He was more direct, more focused, sucking her clit between his lips, flicking it with his tongue in a rhythm that made her cry out. His fingers joined his mouth, sliding inside her, curling to find that spot that made her see stars.

"Tom," she gasped. "Oh god, Tom, I'm going to…"

He stopped. Just like that. Withdrew his fingers, pressed a kiss to her hip, and looked up at her with a wicked smile. "Not yet, my dear. Not quite yet."

Billie groaned, a sound of pure frustration and need. Her face was flushed, her chest heaving, her nipples hard and aching. She was beautiful like this, undone, desperate, completely at our mercy.

I took my turn again. This time I was less gentle, more demanding. I sucked her clit hard, fluttering my tongue against it, feeling her swell and throb against my mouth. She was so close now, so wound up from the first two denials that her whole body was trembling, vibrating with tension.

"Anne," she sobbed. "Please, please, I need to come. I need it so badly."

I could feel her orgasm building, the rhythmic pulsing of her muscles, the way her hips bucked against my face. I kept her there, right on the edge, my mouth working her relentlessly until she was incoherent, begging, her hands gripping my hair.

Then I pulled back.

Billie screamed, a sound of pure frustration. "Please! Why are you doing this to me?"