A Girl Called Eddie

"It's not that I don't like him," he said. "There's nothing I'd love more than to fuck with him. But if he finds out I'm a guy in a dress........."

"Trust me, darling," I told him. "I've done this sort of thing many, many times and it's never gone wrong yet."

"Are you girls ready to go?"

The voice was that of Jason, the older and somewhat less rugged of the pair, who had spent most of the last hour trying in vain to get his hand up my skirt, while I sat on his lap and familiarized him with my French kissing technique. I had never been a girl who believed in playing hard to get, but I wanted to save his "surprise" for later.

"Oh yes, we're ready to go," I smiled.

By the time we reached the apartment, Eddie was even more nervous. After the way we had behaved in the club, our prospective partners were in no mood to waste much time on pleasant chitchat. In fact, it was obvious they could not wait to get down to business with the two hot blondes they had so effortlessly scored. Had Eddie not dragged me straight to the kitchen, I would not have kept them waiting a moment longer.

"I can't go through with this," he said. "It's too dangerous. You're going to have to get rid of them."

"After we invited them back!" I protested. "That wouldn't be very polite. Tell you what, you stay here for a few minutes and I'll make everything alright."

I kissed him on the cheek, then hurried back to my guests, who waited impatiently on the couch. Planting myself on Jason's lap, I draped an arm around his neck and kissed him with a ferocity that took his breath away. As expected, his right hand once more began gliding up my silk stockinged thigh. I reached for it, but instead of pushing it away as I had done in the club, I guided it upwards, to the unmistakable swelling in my black lace panties. Startled, he disengaged his mouth from mine, though his hand remained in place beneath my skirt.