Free Just One Night, Part 3: Binding Agreement by Kyra Davis

power; now is the time to submit.”
    Genevieve pulls my shirt from me; I feel my skirt sliding down my legs. The music stops and I hear the whispered voices of the musicians as they discuss what they’re seeing.
    From the corner of my eye I see Genevieve pour another shot. I feel the cool glass as she drags it along my thigh.
    “What’s your name?” she asks.
    “Kasie,” I murmer. “Kasie Fitzgerald.”
    “Well, Miss Fitzgerald, I need you to spread your legs, just a little, that’s right; you’re not going to be a good girl tonight.”
    Robert chuckles softly and I can feel the coldness of the glass through the fabric of my panties. “Hold this in place here, please,” Genevieve instructs as Robert smiles down at me.
    “Submit,” he says again. “For me.”
    I squeeze my thighs together holding the glass in place as he caresses me with a lime, along my stomach, to my chest, along the outline of my bra. The lime is then placed between my teeth and I feel the salt as it sprinkles down on me. My skin is so sensitive now, even this light touch is startlingly seductive.
    Robert leans down, tastes the salt that lines my bra, reaching inside to pinch my nipples as Genevieve tastes the salt on my stomach; she’s moving lower, dangerously lower. I see the musicians moving in closer.
    I think of protesting, of spitting out the lime and telling them that this takes more audacity and courage than I have.
    But I don’t. I’m not pulling away. Genevieve moves even lower, kissing the edge of my panties and then the fabric until she gets to the glass. She laps the tequila up as if she’s a kitten tasting milk.
    I feel a new shot of coolness as Robert pours a thimble’s worth of tequila into my belly button. It spills over, runs down to my panties, which are already wet.
    I don’t protest this time, not even as he removes my bra from me, runs a lime over my nipples before coating them with salt. Genevieve straightens her posture and watches as he drinks from my belly button, follows the stream down.
    Carefully, Genevieve pulls the glass from between my thighs, making sure her fingers touch more than they should as she drags the glass along.
    “The tequila must have gotten into her panties,” she says, “they’re certainly wet.”
    The singer giggles; the bass player coughs into his hand.
    Robert pulls my panties down. He pulls my legs open a little more then tastes me.
    A flash of memory, Mr. Dade touching my clit with a scotch-drenched ice cube that first night I met him. I close my eyes . . . bite down on the lime. It’s the same sensation but so much more powerful under the watchful eyes of these strangers.
    My hips instinctually raise to him; my back arches. Again I hear the whispered voice of the singer as I moan.
    But he pulls away right before bringing me to the point of climax. My breathing is erratic as I feel his lips move up my hips, along my waist, over my breast and throat until he reaches my mouth and takes the lime. When the juice has been tasted, he hands the lime to Genevieve, who obediently takes it, her eyes running up and down the length of me as Robert leans in again for a kiss. The taste of tequila and sex overwhelm me, making my mouth water. I feel Genevieve’s fingers caressing my leg, gently touching my sex.
    “I bet she’s stunning when she comes,” a man’s voice says. In my peripheral vision I can see the bass player has moved closer. He’s younger than I thought. No more than twenty-three, his wide-eyed innocence gives away his inexperience.
    Robert pulls away, smiles again. “May he touch you?”
    I don’t say a word. Not yes, not no, but in the silence is my consent.
    Genevieve steps away as the bass player steps forward; his fingers only touch my inner thigh briefly before raising to my clit.
    A jolt of electricity makes me jump. But his solicitations continue as Robert kisses my shoulders, my breasts. I feel this man’s fingers moving faster and faster and I moan again.