Chapter 115

Riley and Flynn didn’t discuss it — no need to. Logan Whitley had been a fun little fling, but Flynn was now over him. Riley said, “I don’t need to tell you this, because you’re a good guy at heart, but let him down easily.”

“I will. I was going to anyway.”

“Tell you what, let’s give him a goodbye present, a memorable one.”

“Oh, God, Riley, what now? I can’t take you anywhere.”

She told him her plan. He shook his head in admiration, “That will be memorable. Especially since you’re letting him take pictures.”

Wednesday after school, Riley, Flynn, and Logan were sitting in her kitchen, eating buttered popcorn and sipping beer. She now allowed the boys one bottle each.

Flynn spoke casually, “Riley, how many of those string bikinis do you have now, four?”

“Yeah, I think so, why? No wait, five.”

“Model ‘em for us.” He picked up his cell and mimed snapping a photo. Logan caught his breath.

Riley pretended to think about it, gave a why-not shrug, and said, “Sure.”

“I’ll get ‘em, come on, Logan.”

The boys raced to her bedroom. Logan pointed at the bed, at a vibrator and a lifelike penis-dildo. “Dude.”

Flynn was matter-of-fact, “She has a high sex drive, Riley.”

He opened a drawer and pawed through her panties — frilly and transparent, her thongs, and skimpy bras. A second drawer, “Ah, here we go.”

They met Riley in the living room. Flynn ceremoniously laid out the five tiny patches of cloth and string on the coffee table. Riley winked at them, “Close your eyes, boys.”

Logan squeezed his shut, hardly able to believe his good fortune. Flynn gazed at her fondly. She tossed her tee onto the couch. The sound of her jeans’ zipper whirring down was audible as she murmured, “There.” A moment later she said, “Panties. Now which one first? I think ... wait, I forgot my beer, be right back, boys.”

Flynn nudged his pal, whispered, “Dude, check it out.”

Logan stared. A completely naked Riley padded casually into the kitchen, her tight little butt twitching fetchingly. She turned to the kitchen table, picked up her beer, and took a sip, giving them them a profile view. She said, “Eyeballs,” and Logan clamped his eyes shut.

A minute later she said, “Okay, boys.”

Logan could hardly breathe. She was so ... there. Right in front of him, seeming to fill up the room. Three minuscule yellow triangles that she seemed to be bursting out off.

Riley got a concerned look on her face, “My pussy isn’t showing is it, Flynn?”

He said, “Hmm,” and reached over. Logan gasped as he slid his middle finger under the thong and moved it back and forth. “No, you’re cool, Riles, everything’s covered.”

Logan gasped out loud.

“Whew. Okay, since I’m proper, you can take a picture. Just one per bikini.”

Riley took her time, reminding them to close their eyes while she changed. The second time she held the top against her boobs and turned her back to Logan, “Be a dear, tie me up.”

His hands weren’t that shaky, but he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

On the last one, a neon pink number, she turned her back to Flynn, “Do me, darling.”

He nudged Logan and pretended to tie the string. He patted her on the butt, “Good to go.”

Riley turned around and dropped her hands. The top fluttered to the floor. She giggled and mock-slapped Flynn, “I’ll get you for that, you sneaky little cocksucker.”

She shook her head at Logan, “And I thought I could trust my own son.” Riley shook her finger at the blushing boy, “No photos, not until I’m decent. Now, who wants some more popcorn?”

Back in the kitchen, wearing only a tiny triangle, she opened three more beers. Flynn stood behind her and hefted her boobs, running his thumbs over her nipples, “All kidding aside, you got great tits, Riley.”

Riley smiled brilliantly at Logan, “Do you concur, Mr. Whitely? Or is he just shining me on?”

The bantering and teasing continued; Logan made no attempt to disguise the way he stared at her. Flynn said, “Stand up a minute, Riles, I have an idea.”

She stood, looking perplexed, “Oh?”

“You look hot, no question, but kinda silly ... um, lopsided?”

She hefted her breasts, “My tits?”

“No, they’re okay. It’s this.” He patted the pink triangle. “It doesn’t match anything.”

Riley snorted, “Nice try. You boys just want me naked.”

Flynn turned to his friend, “Told you,” and made a clucking sound like a chicken.

Riley put her fists on her hips, “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

She hooked her thumbs under the strings, whipped the bikini bottom down, and tossed it onto the counter behind her. “How’s that, you little cocksucker?”

“Satisfactory.”

“I’ll satisfactory you, you little creep.”