We fall into an easy, flirtatious conversation about our unconventional sex lives. When the girlfriend arrives, in a cloud of perfume, I am regaling her lover with an account of the time I took three cocks simultaneously. He’s impressed.
‘Hello,’ says the girlfriend, whose name is Kristen. ‘What have we here?’
‘This is Sophie. She’d like to kiss you.’
Kristen is certainly kissable, with full, slightly sardonic lips and a cascade of shiny brown hair. She looks sleek and expensive but there’s a glint in her eye that I recognise. There are other people like me. I sometimes forget this.
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‘Just like that?’ she laughs.
‘Just like that. Shall we retire to that corner?’
Four leopard-print bucket chairs surround a table in their own niche. It’s in view of the bar, but slightly secluded from the rest of the room.
We take our drinks over. On the way, I give my cameraphone to Brad.
‘So then.’ I turn to Kristen, feeling it’s time I got down to business. I put a hand on her thigh.
She smiles. ‘Forward, aren’t you?’
‘Yes. I am forward. How about you?’
I lean in a little. Her perfume is surprisingly floral, not the predictable knockout musk. Her skin is so perfect it almost shimmers.
Her smile fixes in position, her cheekbones quivering a little with the effort. She has a gap in her front teeth. I find it sexy, imagining my tongue seeking out the groove.
‘Love your shirt,’ I say, brushing the silky sleeve.
‘Thanks. It’s Stella McCartney.’
She lets my hand come to rest around her upper arm, my fingers stroking its soft inner side.
‘So, this kiss, then,’ she says, looking over at her boyfriend. ‘Is it for a bet?’
‘Not a bet, but similar. I don’t want to mess up your lipstick, but …’
Small talk is starting to bore me. It’s not like I want her for an enduring friendship. I put my free hand on the side of her neck opposite the arm I’m holding and brush my thumb under her ear. She tilts her head in Pavlovian pleasure, bringing it closer to me.
‘OK,’ she murmurs.
Her lipstick is luxuriously creamy without the distracting taste the cheap stuff leaves in your mouth. She has been chewing spearmint gum in the fairly recent past, and perhaps before that she smoked a cigarette.
Her lips are firm, but she offers no resistance, letting my tongue slip in to investigate that delightful tooth gap. The cameraphone flashes as our breasts touch, her silk against my cotton. Her nipples are hard.
Screeches of laughter from the girl group bring us to our senses and we draw apart, mission accomplished, shy smiles on our faces. Her lipstick must be the stay-put kind. She looks no different.
‘Thanks,’ I say, getting back my breath. ‘Thanks for helping me out.’
I turn to Brad, reaching out for my phone. ‘Can I see?’
He hands it over and I examine the five pictures he has taken of the kiss in every stage. I select the most flagrant of the in flagrante poses and forward it to Lloyd.
‘So, Sophie,’ says Kristen, checking her face in a mirror compact. ‘Do you have plans for tonight?’
Brad’s ears prick up. He leans forwards.
‘You enjoyed yourself there, huh?’