7. Seven
Seven
Betsy
Rocky winked at me. It’s possible I imagined it, but his lingering gaze bores into me in a way that tells me I didn’t need an imagination this time.
He’s fighting this battle for me. Or maybe with me. I sense that he feels the same compassion for his brother’s struggle as I do.
Danger and excitement race through me.
And if I understand, he’s suggesting that if we get Bull out of the room, he’ll have sex with me.
My breaths are decidedly heavy as my father rakes his hand through his hair. He mumbles to himself. He adjusts his pants.
Then he turns and glares at Rocky. “It’s my duty to protect Betsy in this den of men who want to fuck her.”
Is that what’s going on in his head? I reconcile the protection with how he raised me. Not letting me date. Making sure he or his brother is always around. Why is he so adamant?
Is this nothing more than a clumsy attempt to shield me? It sparks a mischievous idea and I play along with my uncle. “Rocky’s always been there to protect me when you can’t. We’ll be fine.”
“You are mine—my responsibility.” Bull’s face turns a shade redder as he stumbles on his words.
We’re at a standstill. Seconds pass like hours. Bull’s heavy breaths are the loudest sound in the room. It’s a battle of wills, and I’m caught in the middle.
The minutes turn into actual hours of silence. It becomes my mission to wait. It’s my only hope of carrying out my plan.
My phone dings from inside my purse. The men watch me get up, retrieve it, and read it.
Grandma: I made an appointment for a mani to pretty up those nails you’ve bitten to the quick.
Glancing at my nails, I curse the woman for calling me out. Why does it matter if I bite my nails? Why can’t she mind her own business? Why can’t she accept me the way I am?
I carry my phone back to my seat and patiently endure more silence.
Rocky appears surprisingly comfy in the bondage chair. His eyes grow heavy until he finally gives in to sleep in the wee hours of the morning. One down, but it’s the other one I need to fall asleep.
I grab my phone, turn the volume all of the way down, then pull up a porn site so I can watch how porn stars masturbate. That’s quite a lesson.
“What are you doing?” Bull asks.
“Passing the time.”
Eventually, Bull slides down the wall, sitting on the floor with a thud, and kicks his shoes and socks off. A while longer and his eyes close and his breathing evens out. Exhaustion finally claims him too.
This is my chance to slowly test the waters of whether I continue to believe I’m as undesirable as my father makes me think. Or if I should trust Rocky, Laz, and the way the men looked at me when I was on stage.
I silently pad to the curtain, keeping an eye on Bull and Rocky. The steady rise and fall of their chests confirms they’re zonked.
My heart hammers as I slowly draw the curtain back, exposing half of the viewing window. Within seconds, men and women gather. They want to see me. It’s as I suspected. They don’t share my father’s ugly duckling assessment.
They see the swan.
A thrill courses through me, a mix of fear and exhilaration. With every bit of stealth I can muster, I press a finger to my lips, making a ‘Shhh’ gesture to the onlookers.
Their eager gazes follow me as I move to the shelf of sex toys. I point at the smallest dildo, looking questioningly at the growing number of men gathering at the window.
Given the videos I just watched, this wouldn’t be the dildo they’d choose.
One guy nods and gives me a thumbs-up. Yay! I might be blushing. Am I really going to masturbate in front of them? Based on the looks of approval—I sure will. This is my chance to shed some false beliefs.
I lift the toy, but another billionaire gives me a stern look and shakes his head.
I turn back to the shelf, my fingers hovering over the options. I’m not sure what half of these are, but I’m drawn to a sleek, black device with a slight curve and a few buttons. I pick it up, showing it to the men. More nods.
I put the toy back, my heart pounding. I’m not ready to use it, not yet. Going through a few more toys, I tease the crowd, holding one near my mouth and mocking how big I’ll have to open for it, then shake my head. Another toy goes under my skirt, where I pretend to size it up.
A grumble comes from inside the room, striking shame in me. I glance at Bull whose head lolls the other side. Still sleeping. Rocky too.
I breathe again, not realizing I’d stopped. I make another ‘Shhh’ motion at my new fans even though I can’t hear them through the glass. In case they hadn’t caught on, I motion across the room where the men are sleeping.
Does Bull have an erection? Not really a question.
Fueled by my newfound sense of empowerment, and the fact that Bull’s asleep, I size up a few dildos, comparing them to what Bull is sporting. Indicating to my audience that I want help, I get their opinion on which one is closest.
I’ve never taken such a naughty vote, and certainly not at my father’s expense, but I’m going to prepare myself.
More people gather, encouraging me with their own excitement. Couples embrace intimately. Singles rub themselves. Others wait.
I hang onto the toy they chose and return the others to the shelf before grabbing a condom and straddling the tantric chair.
Oops. Standing, I challenge myself to another bold move. I turn away from the window, my gaze solidly on Bull, and lower my panties. Given the shortness of my skirt and the way the tulle stands out, I’m certain my backside is visible when I bend over.
I love teasing the people outside of the room, but this innocent virgin is nearing overwhelm, so I don’t play long. There are only two men I really want, and I’ll settle for one.
Back onto the chair, I open the condom and attempt to stretch it over the phallus. The sheath slips out of my hand, landing on the floor with a wet, sticky slap.
Dang it. I grab another and try again. A few rolls down the shaft and my confidence grows.
Wiggling into a position that I presume will give ample visibility, although short of spreading my naked body like the porn stars do, I gather my skirt against my belly and tease the dildo over my sex.
My eyes close. Fantasy takes over. That’s the only way I can do this. It’s not how I imagined the evening going, but it’s a step toward solving my problem.
Pressing the tip against my drenched lower lips, I’m shocked at how needy I am. If only I had the weight of Bull’s body over mine. The heat of a real erection filling me. The whispers of want in my ear, feeding off Bull’s earlier miscue. ‘You’re mine.”
The fantasy plays hard. Rocky would join us, and capture my lips in a passionate kiss. I press the toy further, my sex spreading around the hardness. I’m not going to have to fake anything. It stretches me. I pause.
I push more. I moan.
I slide it back and forth. This is better than I ever dreamed.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Bull’s voice murmurs groggily through the fantasy.