Your Favorite Girl (YFG Series) Read online

  YOUR FAVORITE GIRL

  BY

  STEPH SWEENEY

  This is a work of fiction. All names, places, and events are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author.

  Copyright © Steph Sweeney, 2013

  THE AUTHOR CAN BE CONTACTED AT:

  [email protected]

  STAY UPDATED WITH STEPH AND HER RAMBLINGS AT:

  www.stephsweeney.com

  SOCIAL MEDIA LINKS:

  www.facebook.com/StephErotica

  Twitter Handle: @StephErotica

  THIS BOOK CONTAINS EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT

  IT IS INTENDED FOR ADULTS ONLY

  PLEASE STORE ADULT CONTENT WHERE IT CANNOT BE ACCESSED BY MINORS.

  YOUR FAVORITE GIRL

  ─An Email─

  Date: 08/03/2012

  Subject: RE: RSVP, regrets only

  Mr. Patton,

  I do hope you'll forgive my breech of customary etiquette here, my deliberate violation of your request for response only from those not planning to attend Mr. Shriver's dinner party. In fact, I do plan to attend, and yet I've contacted you, but only because I feel it necessary to express my sheer eagerness to speak to you in a private environment where we can openly discuss the future of your brother's company and mine. Together we will make the very best of this situation.

  Forgive me, but I would also like to make you a proposition unrelated to our other business. If I don't hear back from you, I will assume you are okay with that arrangement.

  Kind regards,

  Yakov Ivanovich

  CEO, Ivan Arms

  ─Meeting Kate─

  DESPITE WHAT the card read, I had to be in the wrong place. A jewelry store on the street level of a downtown Indianapolis office building? Normal-looking customers: young couples, old women, impatient men with alarm in their eyes, as if this place were a den of magic where failing relationships could be restored. The girl on the phone had said nothing about this place. All she'd told me was to come to the address on the business card and to use a specific passphrase.

  Maybe I was on the wrong street.

  The name, though . . .

  I browsed the engagement rings until no one was near the register. Then I approached the cashier, a young Chinese girl with a big smile. She wore a white button-down sweater over a low-cut tank top. Her breasts were small but exposed enough that a taller person might spot a nipple.

  I assumed she was eighteen because otherwise she'd be in school right now, but she could pass for younger. You can always tell a girl's age by how poorly she can match her clothes to her own dimensions--especially her boobs. Girls new to adulthood tend to buy their bras too big. The illusion works, but at certain angles the bra cup folds out and the breast exhibits itself, unbeknownst to the girl and to the surprise of those who happen upon it.

  "Welcome to Your Favorite Gem," the girl said with a cute accent. "How can I help you today?"

  I paused, replayed the exact statement I'd been instructed to make, the secret pass phrase. If I got it wrong, even by a word, I would be turned away, treated like a regular customer. And if this was the wrong place? Well . . .

  Taking a deep breath, I whispered, "I want to fuck you, right here, right now."

  The girl's smile faded.

  Oh God. My heart was racing. I am in the wrong place!

  With a solemn expression, she said, "Follow me, please."

  Breathing a sigh of relieve, I followed her to the end of the display case, where she raised a foldable countertop and quickly ushered me behind the display and through a set of swinging doors, into a short hallway. A black man in khakis and a blue dress shirt looked up at me from the office at the end of the hall, then waved me in. I looked back but the cashier had already returned to the storefront.

  "Name," he said as soon as I stepped through the door.

  "Melissa Reed."

  He typed quickly on a laptop. He looked up at me, back to the computer screen, and then back to me again.

  "Proceed."

  I didn't move. I didn't know where to go. "I've never been here before," I said.

  "I know."

  Suddenly the bookshelf behind him slid rapidly to the right, revealing a hidden elevator with a shiny brass door.

  For a moment I stood frozen. I didn't want to get on it.

  "Do I go up or down?" I asked.

  "It only goes one way and it only has one button. Push the damn button."

  I moved around the desk quickly but nervously, giving him a wide berth. He seemed to be in a sour mood. I could feel him glaring at me as I waited for the elevator to open. Finally I stepped inside and pressed the only button on the panel. Relief washed over me as the door closed.

  The elevator rode so smoothly I couldn't tell if I was going up or down, a strange sensation that left me feeling a little dizzy. When the door retracted, I stepped out into a small, brightly lit lobby.

  I froze immediately. In each of the four corners, a tall security officer in a black suit and sunglasses stood like a statue, arms crosses, each facing a common central point in the room.

  For a moment I just stood there, hoping one of them would instruct me. When I realized they had no intention of speaking, I started to look around. Directly ahead stood a long oak desk, and other than a few artificial plants in big glazed ceramic pots--and the creepy security guards--the room was empty. No other furniture, no other doors, no other people—just the desk and those four guards, so motionless they might as well be statues.

  "Sign the form."

  I jumped and glanced at each corner, unsure which guard had spoken. This room, empty as it was, had quite an echo.

  Slowly I crossed to the desk, upon which lay a clear plastic clipboard with a single document and a fountain pen secured under the clip. I picked it up and read: YOUR FAVORITE GIRL, INC. PRIVACY AGREEMENT.

  The form required me to never share any information about Your Favorite Girl, Inc., including what I would observe here, any purchase I might make, or even the very existence of the company.

  I thought about my husband for a moment. With that pretty teenager from down the street, her on top of him, hands on his chest, firm butt moving up and down on his thighs. His hands gripping her hips. The look on her face when she noticed me standing there. The slight grin, the deliberate moan, the quickened pace of humping the man I married three years ago.

  They were the reason I was here today—or at least what led me here.

  I signed my name at the bottom of the form. Then suddenly a section of the wall opened up and a beautiful young woman emerged from the darkness, pulling me from my thoughts.

  A hidden door with no knob. Why?

  "Hello, Melissa," the girl said with a cute, youthful voice. “My name is Kate and I’ll be your Selection Guide this afternoon.”

  Kate wore a white baby doll lingerie top, see-through, and a pair of white boy shorts. The sight of her startled me. For some reason I’d expected a man. Kate’s skin was several shades darker than mine, smooth and bronze, as though she spent a lot of time on the beach. Curly golden blonde hair that fell loosely to her bare shoulders. Sparkly green eyes. She was short—maybe five foot three—and barefoot. In her hand she held a small black case big enough to hold a handgun, and on that wrist she wore a diamond bracelet with a small key attached to it. I thought she was the cutest thing I’d ever seen, but at t
he same time I was afraid. I wasn’t even sure what I was doing here. I wasn’t even sure what Your Favorite Girl, Inc. was all about.

  "Don't be shy," she said with a slight giggle. "Come along."

  I came around the desk and followed her into the darkness. The wall closed automatically behind us, and for a moment I began to panic, but as soon as the crack sealed, soft yellow light flooded what looked like a small waiting room. On either side of us was a leather sofa and coffee table. Against one wall a small bar, where Kate was already headed.

  She popped open a crystal decanter and poured two small glasses of wine, then returned, handed me a glass, and said, “Have a seat.”

  “Which one?” I asked.

  “That’s the beauty of Your Favorite Girl, Melissa. We always give you choices.” She put a hand on the small of my back and led me to the couch against the left wall. I thought she would sit next to me, but instead she crossed to the other couch, no more than ten feet away, and sat, pulling her feet up and lying against the arm. She took a sip of her wine and looked at me over the rim of the glass.

  I took a sip.

  “So, Melissa. Why don’t you tell me why you’re here? The guys upstairs certainly are curious. You’re the first female customer we’ve ever had.”

  “I don’t . . . I’m not sure.”

  Kate smiled, waited. I took a sip of the wine, then drew back in astonishment. It was amazing. Sweet, tangy, slightly tart, warm. I took another sip, this one bigger. I began to feel strange almost immediately, and I knew there was more than alcohol in it.

  She must have noticed the concern on my face because she said, “Don’t be alarmed by the sensation you’re feeling. We want you to be in the proper state of mind when making your selection. Choosing the right girl for you is much easier when you’re sexually aroused.”

  “What’s in it?” I asked.

  Kate shrugged. “A chemical compound. Brian invented it. Kick back, Meliisa. You’re about to experience the greatest pleasure you’ve ever known.” She was touching her breast and swirling her wine around in its glass. “This is one of the many reasons I love my job so much.” Her voice had become more breathy. The strap fell from her right shoulder. “Talk to me, Melissa,” she said. “Take your shoes off. Get comfortable. Lie down if you want. Tell me why you’re here.”

  I felt awkward, embarrassed; at the same time silly for feeling this way. Kate was nearly naked, but I was suddenly paranoid that she could see up my skirt. My thighs were beginning to sweat, and for some reason I was acutely aware of my nipples. They’d hardened, and I could feel them touching the inner padding of my bra more distinctly than ever before.

  Finally I gave in, slipped off my shoes, and drew my legs up on the couch, smoothing out my skirt.

  “I caught my husband cheating on me with our neighbor’s eighteen-year-old daughter,” I blurted out.

  “How?” Kate asked.

  “He fucked her.”

  She giggled. “No, I mean how did you catch them? Describe it to me.”

  A lump had formed in my throat and I tried to swallow it back before recounting the day that led me here: “I’d meant to go to the gym after work, but I wasn’t feeling well so I went straight home instead. The bedroom is at the end of a long hallway upstairs. You pass four guest rooms—he could have fucked her in any of those beds, but he had to pick ours. Probably because of the mirror on the ceiling. I was halfway up the hall when I heard the bed creaking. The door was standing wide open. I already knew. I knew who it was and everything. Her name is Ellen. She just graduated high school. One day a few weeks back she was out in her front yard with a few friends, all of them in skimpy bikinis, spraying each other with a water hose and just being silly. Ted and I were on our afternoon walk. When Ellen saw us, she called to Ted and waved at him. Then she gave me a look—snide, hateful, as if I’d wronged her recently. I suspected something was going on even then. Hell, I was just like her four years ago. Fresh out of high school, in love with Ted, the young millionaire who lived in the cul-de-sac at the end of the street. He ran every morning, shirtless in the summertime. I was fifteen when I first started to flirt with him. Can't tell you how many times I pulled the bikini trick. And I guess it worked because he left his wife for me. I should have known he’d trade me in for a younger model, too.”

  I looked up from picking at my cuticles and found Kate slumped down on the couch, legs spread apart, staring at me. She was running the tip of her middle finger up and down the crotch of her little white boy shorts, her free hand resting on her inner thigh, her breasts squeezed together between her arms under the bundle of white lace.

  “What did you do when you found them?” she asked.

  “I joined in,” I said.

  “Really?”

  “I didn’t know what to do. I was jealous, angry, hurt. Ellen—her body is perfect . . . like yours . . . and she gave me that look. I don’t know. I wanted to claw her eyes out. At the same time, I wanted Ted to want me more than he wanted her.”

  Kate put her feet on the floor and slumped down on her knees. She proceeded to crawl across the floor slowly towards me.

  “You think I’m pretty?” she asked.

  “Yes.” As she drew closer I felt warmth growing between my legs. Whatever chemical the wine was spiked with rushed through my body, making me feel tingly, sensitive. My arms and legs had goose bumps.

  Kate reached the couch and lay down on the floor below me. "Do you feel good?" she asked.

  "Yes."

  "Are you sad about your husband?"

  "Not right now."

  With both hands she played with the seam of her boy shorts, then ran her hands up her abdomen, then to her chest, drawing up her top until her perky breasts popped out. She had pierced nipples, both bejeweled with diamonds, and they sparkled in the soft yellow lamplight. Kate cupped her breast with her left hand and ran her right hand back down her stomach. She spread her legs wide and began to rub her clit slowly. She let out a slight moan, closed her eyes.

  "Tell me more," she whispered.

  I became overwhelmed with the desire to touch myself. It was scary. I still felt awkward, but the feeling was distant—more like I knew I should feel awkward, that these were insane circumstances, that people don't normally behave this way.

  Kate's eyes were closed, so I snuck my hand under my skirt and pulled my panties to the side so my pussy was exposed. I slid my middle finger inside, surprised to find myself extremely warm and wet, and then used the lubricated finger to massage my clit. The sensation was tremendous. Like I was scratching an itch I'd lived with for years. My nipples ached and before I realized I was doing so, I'd slipped a hand down into my bra and pinched my right nipple.

  I closed my eyes and began to recount the threesome I had with my husband and the young neighbor girl named Ellen.

  "I took my clothes off. My husband didn't know I was there yet, but the girl . . . she watched me. I came up to the foot of the bed and leaned over and kissed him. He was alarmed at first, but since I was naked I guess he thought he'd gotten away with the affair. We made eye contact for a moment. Then he smiled. I hated him in that moment. But I was so jealous. Ellen was riding him harder and harder. I stuck my tongue in his mouth and licked his tongue. Then I felt Ellen's cheek touching mine. She was trying to nuzzle her way in, so I grabbed her by the hair and started kissing her. My heart ached, but I enjoyed kissing her. She had soft lips. Her breath was sweet. I've always liked girls. I kinda got lost in the moment. My husband reached back and started massaging me between the legs. We stayed that way for a while. Then I crawled up on the bed and straddled his face and he stuck his tongue inside me. He has a strong tongue—he can really force it in you. I pushed Ellen back so she had to put her hands on Ted's shins to hold herself up. I kissed her stomach, then moved down and ran my lips up and down her pussy. It was smooth and hairless and the slit was bright pink. I licked her, then the shaft of my husband's dick. He was licking me harder and he started breathing f
ast. I knew he was close to coming, so—"

  "Stop," Kate said.

  I opened my eyes to find her climbing to her feet. She'd pulled her boy shorts down to her knees and had been fingering herself, but now she pulled them back up. I fixed my panties, embarrassed but close to an orgasm myself. Kate reached down and took my wet hand. I stood.

  "No coming," she said. "Not yet."

  She wrapped her arms around my waist and kissed me. I felt her hand going between my legs, putting pressure on my clit.

  "I think . . . I'm going to come," I moaned, trying to slip my fingers in her shorts, but she scooted her butt back and then pulled away completely, kissing me firmly on the lips one last time. She smiled and turned around, leading me to the door, hopping a little as she walked.

  She used the key on her bracelet to unlock the door. Then she picked up the small black case and we stepped into a dark hallway, lit only by tiny blue LEDs in the baseboards. It was a long corridor carpeted with sheepskin. At the far end was another door.

  "So how did you hear about us?" Kate asked as we walked.

  It took me a moment to process the question. I was so turned on the very movement of my hips generated pleasure. I had to stop before an orgasm brought me to my knees.

  "How did I hear about you," I repeated. "I started snooping around in Ted's things to find more evidence that he'd been cheating on me. Ellen started appearing on a daily basis, and we all started fucking constantly. Sometimes the three of us, sometimes just Ellen and me—and I know they have sex when I'm not home. But I'm beginning to suspect Ellen isn't the only one—and I think she knows, too. I hear them fighting sometimes. This has been going on for three months. One day I come home and they're in the shower together. I find a little black book in Ted's pants pocket, and the only thing in it is a business card. This place, Your Favorite Girl, Incorporated, with an address and phone number. I thought it was an escort service, but I called just to be sure. Someone answered with one of those voice distortion things and he said—"