After being interrupted by Lori's phone call, Carol and Lincoln cuddled for a little while and talked about their day. Lincoln had always been a good listener, but he had never really relished the idea of mundane pillow talk like you see in the movies. He was young, fairly fit, and full of energy; the last thing he wanted to do was lie down and focus on a conversation for a long period of time. Normally, if you wanted to talk to him at length, you'd have to do so while he did other things, like owning noobs in CoD or reading a comic (he was very good at splitting his attention between two things). The way he saw it, when you're in bed with a girl, you're kind of stuck there and your focus has to be on her and nothing else. That's not a bad thing, but being compelled or obligated to do something always made Lincoln chafe, even if it was something he loved doing. He imagined that he would feel this way with Carol, but he didn't. He savored every moment they had together and looked forward to their idle chats.

This time, though, he was a little restless. He held Carol in his arms and buried his nose in her sweet smelling hair. He was naked still and she wore an oversized T-shirt and a pair of panties; his boner would had come back shortly after he came and wouldn't go away, nestled between her cheeks. Every so often, he would squirm or rock his hips to feel the sensation of friction. A very large part of him wanted to fuck her right here and now, but she had made no move to let him and he was nervous about taking the initiative. Should he take charge? Should he be respectful and let her do it? On the one hand, if he tried, she might feel pressured or otherwise imposed upon. On the other, maybe she wanted him to. A lot of people wanted to pretend that all men and women were the complete opposite of their stereotypical gender roles, but some women really do like it when a man takes charge. Some women might see it as the man trying to get what he wanted, but some might see it as a sign of how much he liked her.

People, in essence, were all different, and no matter how a small group wanted them to act, they would all feel differently about something. Then again, he was probably overthinking this. It's not really fair to think of Carol in such broad and vague terms as "a woman". Yes, Carol was a woman, but more than that, she was Carol, she had her own thoughts, experiences, and values. She was a unique individual, just as he was a unique individual who couldn't be summed up by the word "boy". A lot of people are boys. Some are geeks, some are jocks, some are gay, some are straight, some want to box, some want to write. Then again, there are usually some commonalities among most males and females that could be -

Jeez, he really was overthinking this.

To be short, he wanted to do Carol so bad that his dick ached and every molecule in his body tried to pull him forward like a magnet in hopes of impaling her body with his. He ran his hand up and down the curve of her hip and she snuggled closer, mashing his dick and making him shudder with need. "That feels good," she said in a slow, slurry voice.

Oh, you have no idea.

She sat up and turned to him. "Sit up," she said.

ARE WE ABOUT TO HAVE SEX?

No, as it turned out, they weren't, but they did one of the next best things: Carol sat behind him with her legs on either side of his hips and gave him a slow, sensual massage. Her thumbs expertly kneaded his tense muscles and the heels of her palms caressed his flushed skin. Lincoln turned to putty in her hands and threw his head back, mouth open and drool coursing down his chin Homer Simpson style. He let out a watery gargle and his eyes fluttered. Carol laughed and leaned in to press her moist lips against the side of his neck. Lincoln let out a little moan and Carol smiled against his throat. She nipped his ear and he jumped, making her laugh. "Yummy boy meat," she said.

"You almost took it off."

"Not yet," Carol said and rubbed his shoulders harder. The feeling was pure bliss and at that moment, Lincoln melted into a metaphorical puddle with a cowlick. "I'm saving you for a special occasion."

"What kind of occasion?" he asked. He was so relaxed that his voice was hardly more than a husky slur.

Carol hummed thoughtfully. "I don't know yet. Maybe Thanksgiving. I like you a whole lot better than turkey."

"You can have all of me," Lincoln said, "don't bother sharing."

"Don't worry, I won't," Carol said earnestly.

Lincoln smiled. "Good. I don't want to be shared."

She kissed the side of his neck and flicked his earlobe with her tongue, making him shiver. "You're too good to share." She ran her nails lightly down the length of his back and he shivered in delight. "Anyway, how are Clyde and Rusty doing these days?"

Many months ago (at least it felt like many months ago), Clyde and Rusty dragged him to The Rumpus Room, the local strip joint. Okay, maybe it wasn't fair to say that they "dragged" him since he was more than willing to watch naked women dance, but it was their idea, not his; he just went along for the ride. They dressed up in your classic cartoon disguise (on each other's shoulders underneath a trenchcoat and a hat) and the bouncer, who must have been criminally dumb or maliciously apathetic, bought their ruse and let them in. They sat at a table in a dark corner, but before they could begin to enjoy the show, they were found out. They ran, and Carol thankfully found Lincoln before the bouncers could. Clyde and Rusty weren't so lucky: They were berated, beaten, and left in a dumpster for dead. They spent weeks in traction down at the hospital, where Lincoln visited them often.

It wasn't his fault that things happened the way they did (again, sneaking into The Rumpus Room wasn't even his idea) but he still felt somewhat responsible. There was an old saying that Pop-Pop used all the time that really struck Lincoln in the aftermath of the disaster at The Rumpus Room: There, but for the grace of God, go I. That was an old school way of saying "It could have been me in a full body cast, I was just lucky." It really could have been him laid up in a hospital bed eating his meals through a straw, and that disturbed him greatly. For that reason, he visited them as often as he could and did everything in his power to make them feel better.

But then they got lippy and he had to hurt their feelings.

He told them about Carol and they didn't believe him. They said he was a lair and told him to shut up. Maybe it was petty, maybe he shouldn't have cared what a couple glorified vegetables said, but he got mad offended and proved it to them by livestreaming one of his and Carol's sessions. "They wound up on the pscyh ward under suicide watch," Lincoln said.

They both laughed. "How about now?"

"I haven't seen much of them, but they've been at school, so they made it through. They give me dirty looks in the hallway, though."

"Poor baby," Carol said and kissed his cheek. "Want me to make it feel better?"

Lincoln's head bobbed up and down. "Yes, please."

Smiling at him, she rested her chin on his shoulder and ran her hands over his stomach, her dank breath puffing against his neck. Lincoln threw his head back and gently rocked his hips as she glided her palms over his dick. "I love the way you feel," she panted.

"You do this so good," Lincoln sighed.

Carol kissed his neck and began to masturbate him, her hand sliding up and down his shaft. Clear fluid leaked from his tip and his balls filled with hot passion. He closed his eyes and tried to regulate his breathing; he was already so close that if he didnt think he could hold on. He loved the way Carol touched his body so much that he didn't want this moment to end, and held on for dear life. He tried to ignore the warm kiss of her skin on his, the moist feeling of her lips against his neck, the intoxicating smell of her scent. Carol bit her bottom lip and leaned slightly forward, folding him over a little, and kissed the corner of his mouth. "Are you close?" she asked.

Now Lincoln's breathing was ragged and his chest heaved up and down. Her hands slipped up and down, up and down, spreading his natural lubrication along his throbbing member. He didn't want this to end, didn't want to finish so soon and embarrass himself, but there was no denying it, he was close and he couldn't hold back much longer. "Yes," he finally managed in a strangled tone.

"Do it," she urged, a needy inflection in her voice, "cum for me."

Giving up the battle, Lincoln jerked his hips and gave a long, shivering moan as ribbons of hot cum shot from his depths. Carol's breath caught and her hand slowed as she watched his orgasm like a curious schoolgirl. The first blast arched into the air and landed in a puddle on the bed between his legs. The second fired into space, somehow more powerful than the first, and then disappeared, never to be seen again. The third splattered Carol's hand and the fourth and final oozed over her knuckles. Lincoln melted back into her, winded and shaking, and Carol attacked the side of his neck with hungry kisses. She ran her sticky hand over his stomach and nipped his ear. "That was really hot," she breathed.

"You're really hot," Lincoln said.

He twisted around and they kissed deeply. Instead of going limp, Lincoln's dick stayed hard and quickly got harder. He slipped his hands under her shirt and cupped her bare breasts; her erect nipples smooshed into his palms and her heartbeat sent jiggling tremors through her chest. Lincoln pushed her back onto the bed and mounted her like an animal. His dick was hot and rock hard and fog choked his mind, dulling his senses. He was turning into a creature of lust like a hapless slob transforming into a werewolf in an old Hammer movie. Carol's panties were pulled so tight across her crotch that her lips pinched the fabric between them. Lincoln wanted to be in her so bad that his hands shook. He guided his dick to her folds and they slipped over his tip, kept from penetrating her by a cotton barrier. Carol stared up at him with wide, doe-like eyes that cut through the mist in his brain. Her face was red, her chest rising and falling; he couldn't tell if she wanted him to get off of her...or get off in her.

That question was rendered moot when Carol's phone went off. She fumbled for it with shaky hands and looked at the screen. "My alarm," she said. "I'm late."

DARN IT. First Lori and now this. Lincoln was getting really tired of being cockblocked.

Offering no resistance, Lincoln rolled off of her and she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, sitting up. "What are you late for?" he asked, trying hard to keep the disappointment out of his voice and largely succeeding.

"Work," she said.

Lincoln's brow furrowed. "I thought you were off today."

"I picked up an extra shift."

She said nothing else and Lincoln didn't press her. She wanted to save as much money as she could before switching to a more respectable job. I don't want to be a stripper forever, she told him once, and Lincoln agreed; he didn't want her stripping forever either. And even if he did, stripping is based entirely on looks and agility, the first two things to fade away as you age. Carol was beautiful but realistically, how long could she dance before age took its toll? He didn't expect her to ever be ugly, but no one goes to a strip club to watch a soccer mom spin on a pole, they wanted girls who are hot and young. Even so, she wanted to have a career one day and not spend the rest of her life dancing for dollars. Lincoln was perplexed at how and why she got into stripping; she was a normal girl who dressed modestly, had largely traditional values, and didn't particularly relish in showing her body off to the whole world. She was the complete opposite of what he imagined a stripper to be and ihe just couldn't wrap his head around it.

At the end of the day, he figured, it wasn't his business, and if Carol wanted to talk about it with him at some point, she would.

"Get dressed and I'll give you a ride home," Carol said.

"Do I have to?" he sighed.

"Unless you want to go home naked," she said.

Yeah, let's not do that.

While Carol got dressed and packed her strip gear into a bag, Lincoln pulled on his shirt and jeans. He looked around for his underwear but couldn't find them. Eh, something to remember him by.

Outside, full night had fallen and a cold wind filtered through the trees. On the drive home, Carol stopped by Burpin' Burger and got them some food. Lincoln's house was only a couple miles away so he scarfed his food and washed it down with a Chocolate Cherry Cola. Carol turned onto his street and parked at the curb across from the house. The second story windows shone with light but the first story was dark. It wasn't all that late in the grand scheme of things - almost eight - but late enough that everyone was beginning to get ready for bed. Lana, Lola, Lily, and Lisa would probably already be asleep, and Mom and Dad would be sitting up in bed, him with his phone and Mom reading a book. If he hadn't eaten with Carol, he would have been screwed on dinner, since there was no such thing as leftovers in the Loud house.

Carol leaned across the center console and they kissed. "I'll see you tomorrow?" she asked.

"Yes you will," Lincoln said and winked.

She laughed and patted his cheek. "You're cute. Now go on, I'm late."

But he didn't want to go on. He wanted to stay with her. If he had his way, they'd go back to her house and cuddle some more. Then they;d have sex, After that, they would fall asleep in each other's arms, their naked bodies fused together. Tomorrow...he didn't know, but they would cross that bridge when they came to it, come what may.

As much as he wanted to stay with her, he couldn't, so he said his goodbyes, threw the door open, and jumped out. He watched her car recede into the night until the red taillights winked out, then went up the walkway to the porch, He fished his key out of his pocket and inserted it into the lock, squinting to see in the gloom of the porch light, which Mom always left on when one of the kids was out, as though it were a shining beacon that they could find their way home by. He turned the key, pushed the door open, and went inside.

The living room was dark, but no sooner had he stepped through the door than the light came on, stinging his night adjusted eyes. He squinted and turned his head slightly to the side in order to escape the direct path of the light. He creaked one eye open to see what the heck was going on, and Lori was sitting on one of the stair treads, her brow lowered angrily and her arms folded sternly over her chest. Once, a few weeks ago, Mom caught him sneaking in from seeing Carol at the strip club. He slithered through the door at almost 1am just like he'd done many times before and eased it shut behind him, thinking he'd pulled one over on his parents yet again. He turned to go up the stairs and Mom blocked his path, wearing her slippers and her bathrobe.

Her expression, posture, and anger was almost identical to Lori's.

Only it wasn't, he realized. Her expression was tense but not exactly hostile. His impression of her mood came largely from the tension in the air. He didn't know to describe it, but the atmosphere felt...heavy, like it was weighing down on his shoulders. Imagine the pressure of being underwater, with tons of the wet stuff above you, and you'd have a good grasp on what he felt right then and there. There was the way she was looking at him. He had heard the phrase "icy stare" before (probably in one of Lucy's short stories) but he had never truly seen one until now. Her eyes were like two chips of ice and a deep chill wafted from her like cold from a block of dry ice.

For a second, she only looked at him, holding him in her penetrating gaze like a snake, then she broke the silence. "There you are."

Lincoln's face burned and he felt the sudden need to explain himself, but didn't because, really, what business was it of hers? Mom and Dad knew where he'd been and they knew he'd get back late, that's all that mattered.

Okay, actually, Mom and Dad didn't know where he was. They thought he was out working and making money. They knew that he sometimes went to Carol's for help with his homework, but today they were under the impression that he was mowing Bob Stone's lawn and dog sitting for him. That was beside the point, however. They were both aware that Lincoln wouldn't be back until pretty late and they were totally okay with it; they had both even said that they were proud of him for being so industrious. Really, he didn't have to answer to Lori at all.

Still, under the scrutiny of her iron gaze, he was suddenly nervous. Whether he owed her an explanation tonight or not, Lori had always been an authority figure and it had been ingrained in him - and his sisters - that she was not simply another inmate at the asylum. When Mom and Dad were gone, she was top dog and her word was law. They did an excellent job of keeping the house in line, better even than Mom and Dad, and because of that, they tended to turn a blind eye to criticism against her. Someone (Luna, he thought) had compared her to the "stuffed suit hall monitors in middle management" and that was kind of fitting. She was kind of like a manager. The good thing with managers, though, is that you can go over their heads, and there's not much they can do about it.

Except lowkey bully you and make your life a living hell for subverting their power. Middle management types tend to be the biggest power trippers on planet earth because they usually have little power and control outside of work, so once they get into the office and have a little authority, they go hog wild with it. One odd job Lincoln had done was helping out the owner of a janitorial company by covering for cleaners when they called out. He'd gone into many office buildings around town to vacuum and take out the trash, and in every single one, there was an office manager - usually a middle aged woman, not to be sexist - who was a total douche canoe. Lori didn't abuse her power, but she sometimes acted like she was in control 24/7. She had it in her head that she belonged in boss mode all the time when she didn't.

Whether or not he had to answer to Lori, he was suddenly very nervous. His face flushed hotly and he resisted the urge to rub the back of his neck. "Yeah," he said, hating the sheepish inflection in his voice. "It's hard out here for a Linc."

Lori hummed judgmentally and got to her feet. "I just wanted to let you know that I saved you some dinner

"I just wanted to let you know that I saved you some dinner," Lori said and got to her feet. "It's in the microwave." She looked him up and down, and the predatory glint in her eyes made Lincoln swallow hard. "Did you have fun with Mr. Grouse, by the way? You're walking kind of funny."

Lincoln forced a chuckle. He did more work for Mr. Grouse than he did for anyone else because Mr. Grouse was just next door and because he always had work for him to do. His sisters, however, made fun of him, saying he was doing nasty things to Grouse for money.

"I wasn't at Mr. Grouse's," Lincoln corrected. "I was helping Bob Stone."

He gave her his cover story, and as he spoke, she crossed her arms and tilted her head slightly back, eyes pointed down her nose in a look of deep incredulity. It was almost like she knew he was lying, but that wasn't possible.

Ignoring her obvious skepticism, Lincoln gave a fake yawn. "Thanks for saving me dinner, but I'm really tired. I think I'm gonna turn in."

She made no move to step out of the way. She just looked at him, seeming to penetrate his soul and to read his every thought. He squirmed uncomfortably and silently wished she would just leave him alone. .

"Uh...goodnight."

He slipped between her and the wall and scurried up the stairs. The back of his neck tingled and he almost looked over his shoulder, but forced himself not to. If he had, he would have seen Lori glaring at him.

I was helping Bob, he had said, but that was literally a lie. Earlier that afternoon, Lori walked over to Carol's house and talked to some of her neighbors. She also talked to Mr. Grouse, who said that Lincoln barely came over anymore. She tried to peer through Carol's windows but the curtains were all drawn. She pressed her eye to the crack and waited. Finally, she saw Lincoln walk by. He was fully dressed and looked like he was on his way to the kitchen to get a snack or something to drink.

Aha, so that's why Carol ignored her call earlier.

Her hand closed into a vengeful fist.

A very big part of her wanted to go in there and kick his ass, but she pushed away from the window and stalked home instead, her mind racing. She was mad because he was hogging up her Carol time, and it didn't occur to her until she was almost home that something was off here. What was he doing hanging out with Carol anyway? She helped him with his homework, sure, but why was he hiding it?

That was strange.

Very strange.

Either way, the jig was up. She knew something was off and now she knew she was on the right track.

Snapping out the light, she went upstairs and into the room she shared with Leni. Leni was stretched out on her bed with the blanket pulled over her legs; she paged through a coloring book and made little noises of delight and wonder at the pictures Lola and Lana had colored.

Lori ignored her, sat on the edge of her own bed, and kicked her shoes off.

Tomorrow, she decided, she would put phase two of her plan into action.

And soon enough...she would knoe why Carol and Lincoln were spending so much time together, and why Carol kept ignoring her.

She would know the truth, and she would make them sorry.


The next morning, Lori woke to the sound of her alarm. She reached out, slapped the OFF button, and sat up. She yawned, stretched, and rolled her neck. Dusky gloom filled the space and she frowned to herself. Was it raining? It looked like it was raining. She leaned over and moved the curtain aside. Dark, leaden clouds filled the sky, but it wasn't actively raining. Yet.

She hoped the weather held off. She had a long day ahead of her.

Getting up, she went to the bathroom, then got dressed like she did every morning. She sat at the dining room table and had a bowl of cereal while watching Lincoln from the corner of her eye. "You know, :Leni," Lori said, "I'm in a good mood. Would you like to drive today?"

Leni's face lit up. Ever since getting her licence, Lori had been in charge of driving everyone to school. Leni finally got her licence by the skin of her teeth and wanted to take over driving, but Lori didn't want to give it up. For her purposes today, she had to. "That would be totes cool," Leni said.

"Great."

Lori and the others piled into the van and Leni drove them to school, dropping Lincoln, Lola, Lana, Lisa, and Lucy at the elementary school first, then Lynn and Luan at the middle school. When they reached the high school, Leni parked the van in the parking lot on the west side of the building. "You wanna drive this afternoon too?" Lori asked.

"Uh, yes," Leni said excitedly.

"Cool," Lori said.

Leni thought she was being altruistic, but she had ulterior motives. She let Leni drive so that she could handle the afternoon carpool. That way, Lori had breathing room, Obviously, she wasn't going to school today. She had important things to do and school would only get in the way.

Throwing the door open, Lori jumped out of the van and went inside, parting ways with her sisters in the lobby. She went in the direction of the cafeteria but stopped by a side door and looked around to make sure she wasn't being observed. Satisfied, she pushed through the door and went around the side of the building, crouching as she passed windows so that no one saw her. She crossed the athletic field and hurried into a stand of woods separating the school from a strip mall, again looking over her shoulder. She expected someone to try and stop her but no one called out or attempted to impede her.

A wide path carpeted with pine needles led through the woods and filtered out on a barren hill rising above the strip mall. Lori saw loading docks, overfull dumpsters. She went down the path and walked across the parking lot. She waited at the bus stop for the 605 and took it to Carol's neighborhood. She got off six blocks from Carol's house and walked the rest of the way. When she got there, she knocked on the door, and a moment later, Carol's mother and father appeared. "Oh, hi, Lori," Carol's mother said with a hint of surprise. "Carol's not here right now. She's in school...where you should be."

Lori faked a sheepish smile. ":I got suspended for fighting."

She told Mr. and Mrs. Pingrey that she beat up a boy for picking on Leni. He called her a retard and made her cry, so I kind of lost it. She said that though she had been suspended, her parents weren't mad at her and that she wasn't being punished at home. "I really don't have anything to do during the day and I'm kind of sick of sitting home and looking at the walls. I figured I'd come over and see if I could make myself useful. Do you need anything done around the house?"

"Oh, we'd love some help," Mrs. Pingrey said.

Fifteen minutes later, Lori was stationed in the hallway with a bucket of warm, soapy water and a feather duster. She got to her hands and knees and washed the baseboards, making them sparkle and actually taking pride in her may have been a cover story, but she believed that if she was going to do something for any reason, she might as well do it right. Done with the baseboards, she wrang the cloth out and washed the walls. When she was finished with that, she paused, cocked her head to the side, and listened carefully. Mr. and Mrs. Pingrey were in the kitchen, talking softly. Lori strained to hear but couldn't make out words.

She had to make sure they didn't suspect a thing.

Grabbing the bucket, she went into the living room and washed the baseboards there, then dusted, making sure Mr. and Mrs. Pingrey saw her hard at work. She slowly made her way to the hall leading to Carol's room. She was just about to go in when Mr. Pingrey called out that he and his wife were heading out for a bit. "I'm leaving a twenty on the coffee table," he said. "Order a pizza and split it with Carol when she comes home."

"Okay," Lori said. "Oh, and don't mention that I'm here. I want to surprise Carol."

"Will do," Mr. Pingrey said.

She waited until they were gone and then sneaked into Carol's room. For some reason, she expected it to look different than it usually did, but it was normal: Neat, tidy, and pragmatic. Lori combed the entire place from top to bottom looking for something, anything, that would explain what was going on. She found nothing of the sort, but she did find other things.

Strange things.

In the back of Carol's closet, hidden by hanging skirts and blouses and jackets was a secret stash of clothes, all skimpy and made either of leather or lace. There were also boots and thongs by the boatload.

"Stripper clothes," Lori said to herself. She was one of three people on earth who knew about Carol's night job - the other two were Carol's parents.

Finding nothing important, she went back into the living room and dropped onto the couch. She texted Leni to confirm that she was driving today and not Lori, then swiped the money off the table. She didn't want to steal from the Pingreys but she also didn't want Carol to know that she was here.

For a long time, Lori waited. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, school let out. Lori crept into the dining room and took up position where she could see the living room. At last, the door opened and Carol came in.

But she wasn't alone.

Lincoln was with her. They talked and laughed like old friends and Lori's eyes narrowed in anger. Everything she suspected was fitting together. She was angry that Lincoln had taken Carol from her and hearing them all buddy buddy made her so mad she shook.

In the living room, Carol said, "Since my mom and Dad aren't home, I want to give you a dance right here."

Lincoln readily agreed.

Lori blinked in confusion. What did she mean by that?

The first thing that occurred to her was that Carol was a secret ballet instructor and Lincoln was taking lessons from her on the downlow because he was embarrassed or something. He could have arranged lessons in private to avoid being made fun of by Lori and the others. That sounded like the plot of a cartoon, but hey, a lot of cartoony shit had happened in her life.

Hmmm, maybe, then again, Carol didn't even know ballet.

Huh.

Was she teaching him how to strip?

Or was she stripping for him?

She almost laughed aloud. No way. Whatever was going on here, it wasn't that.

In the living room, Lincoln moaned. Lori's heart leapt into her chest and her entire body went rigid. She peeked around the wall between the kitchen and the living room to confirm what she already knew - that Carol wasn't stripping for Lincoln - and her jaw dropped.

Lincoln sat on the couch with his pants bunched around his ankles and a giant tent in his red undies. Carol was in front of him in a thong and a bra, bent at the waist with her hands clasped to her knees. She looked back at Lincoln over her shoulder and bit her lip as she rubbed her ass up and down Lincoln's erection.

A jumble of emotions welled within Lori as she watched Carol grinding Lincoln. On some level, she thought she should be mad, enraged, even. Her big sister instincts should be kicking in hard right now and she should be rushing in there and tackling Carol to the ground.

But she didn't feel that way. This was Carol, after all. She wasn't some random ho or anything, she was Lori's best friend, basically a sister to her. Also, it would be a lie to say that the way she moved her body wasn't hypnotic. Lori stared with interest, then fascination, then open lust as Carol danced. This was the first time she had ever seen Carol work her stripper magic. It was also the first time she had seen Lincoln in a state of eotic bliss, face red, head back, eyes narrowed. She couldn't call him "little bro" anymore if the bulge in his underwear was anything to go by.

As she watched them, Lori realized something.

She was jealous. Jealous of Lincoln for getting to see and feel Carol in such an intimate way, of having the honor of Carol dancing for him and him alone, and jealous of Carol for having the privilege of getting to give Lincoln such pleasure. Carol did it slowly, gracefully, clearly taking her time and so obviously savoring every second.

Hot shame crept up the back of Lori's neck and her knees shook.

It was wrong in so many ways...but she wanted to go in there and join them.

Carol straddled Lincoln, laid her hands on his shoulders, and bounced on his lap. He held her hips and grinned up at her in that boyish way of his. She ran her fingers through his hair and he reached behind her to unclasp her bra. Loti's heart slammed and she waited in suspense to see Carol's breasts. When they fell free, her skin smooth and creamy white, Lori's core clutched and she could feel her panties beginning to dampen. She saw herself going out there, saw herself cupping Carol's breasts and kneading Lincoln's thick, yummy package through his underwear, but she didn't have the courage to actually do it.

Instead, she took her phone out and snapped a few pictures. By now, Carol had pulled Lincoln's undies down enough to let his dick out. She rolled her ass over it and he thrusted up and down between her cheeks, hotdogging her. Lori wanted to stay and watch it all, but she forced herself away. She slipped out the back door and walked home.

For hours afterward, the sounds of Lincoln's moaning, and of Carol's sultry taunts, echoed through her head.

There was no doubt about it.

She had to join them.

And if she had her way, she would.