the slumber party, prelude

“You know, Luke thinks that you and I are going to have sex tonight.” She said this casually, as I was getting changed for dinner.

I paused, giggled nervously. “Now I’m definitely going to take a shower.” A couple of minutes later, I yelled, “I have performance anxiety!” I heard Meg laugh in the other room.

Earlier in the day, we’d met up for a walk in the gardens. As the light turned dusky, we’d talked about what we should do that night, and decided to go to dinner.

Then we debated the merits of calling Luke to meet us. I wanted to meet him, for sure. Meg wanted me to meet him, but was worried that they had spent too much time together that week, and that he would feel smothered if they spent more time together. Our compromise was to ask him to meet us for a pre-dinner drink.

As I flipped on the water, my mind started circling. I have never had sex with a girl. Actually, a girl fucked me, once, but I was tied up (and that is an entirely different story).The last time I saw Meg, she was very much her owners’ pet, and Andrew took the lead, encouraging me to kiss her, undress her, and just generally explore her. But I never got farther than looking longingly at her bare cunt a couple of times.

This was different.

In the shower, I shaved and lotioned and primped like I would if I were going out with a guy, not like a night with a friend. Meg said something to this effect. I also consulted with her on my panties. Did she like the lacy ones or the cotton ones? She chose the cotton ones, white boyshorts with pink hearts and blue snowflakes. Very littlegirl.

When both of us were ready, we set out for dinner.

Drinks turned into dinner with Luke, and his friend, Dan. I thought we were all having a pretty good time. The conversation was playful, flirty, and I couldn’t help but be aroused at the thought that Luke was sitting across the table from me, thinking about me fucking his girlfriend. At least, I hoped that was what he was thinking.

Luke was a perfect gentleman: warm, sincere, interested in what I had to say. And cute. I couldn’t help but hope, as the bottles of wine kept coming, that he would come back with us to Meg’s house

I like to think that I’m rather observant, but drinking tends to dull my more subtle faculties, in favor of more base ones. So that’s probably why I didn’t realize that there was a problem until it was too late . . .