Unspoken Pleasure

Taylor focused on the next race with hot, hateful fire but it hardly helped. Once again, Steve took the win. He stood and made a long, deep sigh, like someone about to undertake a particularly messy job.

"Well, everyone else is getting kissed. I guess it's my turn," Steve said. Taylor took a deep breath to protest, but Steve kept going. "It is only fair. Your boyfriend kissed my girlfriend. It's not a big deal." The breath stayed lodged in Taylor's throat. It was stupid logic. No logic. But she couldn't protest and Tim seemed unable, or unwilling, to argue as well. She looked up, expecting to see Steve's cocky smile on his face, but instead he just seemed resigned.

Well, Taylor thought, here goes nothing. She stood up and met Steve in the middle of the room. She couldn't help but notice Tim staring up at her, but she couldn't read his face. He still had quite the bulge in his pants, though. Couldn't miss that.

Taylor leaned forward for Steve's kiss, keeping her body distant. Then Steve pressed his lips to hers. She felt his hands rest on her waist. Thumbs tickling at the bare skin of her sides. Slowly he pulled her forward.

Taylor could certainly feel Steve's bulge now. It ground urgently against her sex and the traitorous, hairy twat did nothing but drip with desire in response. Bodies against each other. Mirroring mouths. Steve tested at her. Nibbled at her bottom lip. Probed with his tongue.

His hands dragged up Taylor's flanks and she fluttered. His fingers over her flat stomach. Against her ribs. Taylor careened between drowning in Steve's kiss and trembling under his touch.

Hands higher. Just under the wire of her bra now. He slid around as if he might... In that moment, Taylor wanted nothing more. Steve's hands slowly slid forward.

And he stopped.

Steve pulled away from the kiss so fast that Taylor nearly fell.

"Not bad, Swifty," Steve said, and Taylor hated herself but she giggled. They both sat back down. Taylor because she almost had to. Tim was looking at her and she couldn't tell if he was angry or aroused and she thought that maybe he didn't know, either.

The world was spinning. Her stomach twisted up. And all Taylor could think was I'm drunk. I am drunk. I am so so so drunk.

*

Steve took the third race, easily. Without even being asked, Taylor slid her pants off once again. She dragged them slowly over her perfect ass before placing them on the floor. Tim saw the little dark spot on Taylor's panties had spread even further.

"Last race," Taylor said, almost a whisper.

"This is the big one," Steve said, "Whoever wins this is the all time champion. They get one last wish from everyone."

Something about the way Steve said it, Tim knew this last round wasn't going to be for kisses and socks. Oh no. This was going to be epic. That thing he'd been asking Taylor about before -- about how comfortable she'd be if things went further. Tim imagined that this was what she'd been saying yes to. Whatever 'this' would be.

Taylor jumped out to the early lead, just like old times. Steve, however, stalled, and Tim quickly passed him. It looked to be a battle between him and Taylor. But then suddenly a red shell swerved in from behind and Steve sped past. Now it was just Steve and Taylor racing for the win. But Taylor had such a lead that she seemed uncatchable. It was over, Tim knew. There was no way for Steve to take the lead.Belongs to NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.

"What's this?" Sydney asked. Tim looked over. Her character was holding the blue shell weapon. He supposed that she hadn't gotten one before, though he couldn't imagine how that could be. Still, he explained it to her. Unlike the green shell -- which just went straight out wherever you fired it -- or the red shell -- which locked onto the racer in front of you -- the blue shell went straight after the player in first and was (except for a rare exception) completely unblockable. There was nothing to do but take the hit and, hopefully, move on.

As soon as Tim spoke, he regretted it. Just in explaining the weapon to Sydney, Tim knew he'd betrayed Taylor. But what was he supposed to do? Not say anything? Beg Sydney not to fire it? It all bolted through Tim's brain in moments. A whole argument about morality, fairness, and the loyalties we owe our loved ones. A lifetime of philosophical debate sped past in a matter of seconds.

But the moment was already gone.

"OOH, neat," Sydney said. Tim heard the telltale whoosh of the blue shell being fired.

"Fucking... Fuck!" Taylor shouted, "Suck my dick you stupid blue shell! Suck it!"

All the shouting hardly mattered. Taylor's kart went up in a big blue fireball. A moment later, Steve burst right past her.

The Mario Kart music sung triumphantly in the background. Taylor just stared down at her hands as if they'd betrayed her. She was mumbling and cursing and kind of rocking back and forth in her chair. It occurred to Tim that Taylor was far more intoxicated than he'd realized.

He started to interject that maybe it was time to just call it, but then Steve stood up and Tim's mind went blank. No one said anything. Steve surveyed the room and rubbed his palms. He'd been skipping Tim and Sydney since the kissing round, but now he told them both to go down to their underwear.

Tim was so busy with his own undress, he didn't see Sydney accomplish hers. She sat back down, jeans in one hand. Her thin pink legs pressed up against his own. Tim couldn't help but appreciate the blonde all the more: The flush on her cheeks and neck. The way her chest just spilled over her flat stomach. The tight black panties that barely covered her snatch -- a few rebellious shoots of blonde hair peaking out from the sides. And, sure enough, Tim saw, the girl had a wet spot to match Taylor's own. He looked back up and smiled and, to his surprise, Sydney smiled back. Wow.

Tim was so distracted by Sydney, he almost missed it when Taylor stood. She began to slide off her jeans again, but Steve stopped her. She sat back down, meekly. Steve slowly sauntered over to Taylor. He smiled that wolfish smile. "You know, Taylor," Steve said in a way that was somehow more mocking than his usual Swifty, "You've been after me all day saying suck my dick, suck my dick. Well, I think that's what you should have to do."

"I don't... You want me to..."

"Suck. My. Dick."

Taylor looked up. Mouth agape like she was already going for it. Steve didn't wait for a response. He just walked into the middle of the living room and started unbuckling his belt.

This was the point where Tim said no. That this had already gone too far and it would not go any farther. And everyone laughed and agreed. Steve apologized and said he was just joking but of course no one believed him. Only it didn't matter because everyone had already packed up their things and moved on from it.

Except Tim didn't say no. He didn't say anything. He just sat there. Stared.

But that was OK. Because there was no way that Taylor would agree to it. She would just laugh in Steve's face and...

Taylor stood up slowly. She didn't speak, just loped over to where Steve stood in his grey boxer briefs. There was a pause. Tim waited for Taylor to say something. Anything! Everything just stuck for a second in time. And then Tim's soulmate dropped straight down to her knees.