Page 76 of Sex, Lies, and Margarita Mixes

By 6:45PM, I’m staring at my closet like it’s personally offended me. “She said slutty, but how slutty? Like ‘hot girl summer’ slutty or ‘Vegas divorce party’ slutty?”

Chase appears in the doorway, towel slung around his neck, damp from his post-run shower. My mouth goes dry, and I have to really concentrate to hear him say, “Wear the red dress.”

I blink and my thighs clench. “Huh?”

He laughs and snaps. “Eyes up here, ma’am. I am not a piece of meat, you know. And the red dress.” His eyes darken. “You know the one.”

I grin slowly. “I love your meat, baby.” He rolls his eyes, but his cock twitches under the towel. I drag my finger down my chest and over my stomach. His eyes follow. “Ah, the one that makes people stare. That red dress?”

His nostrils flare. “The one that makes me want to throw you over my shoulder and carry you home before anyone else stares.”

Grabbing it from the closet, I shimmy into it. Skin-tight, thigh-high slit, deep plunging neckline. My red lipstick matches it perfectly.

When I turn around, Chase is practically panting. “Damn, babe.”

“Still letting me leave the house?” I purr.

He exhales, reaches for me, turns me, and pushes it up past my hips. We’re in front of the mirror. I widen my legs and push my panties down. He enters me swiftly with his hand on the back of my neck. We watch ourselves as he takes me. I come unraveled and he follows suit, spilling his cum deep inside me. He pulls my panties back up and says, “You can leave the house because I know you’re coming home to me. I also know that every man that sees you tonight will want you… and my cum is inside of you.” He slaps my ass and whistles as he pulls on a pair of gym shorts.

A knock sounds on the front door. Knox is there, holding a bottle of tequila and a grin. “Y’all have fun. Be safe. Call if you need us.” His thumb jerks over his shoulder. “Mari Lynn’s waiting in the party bus.”

It’s a literal party bus.

Neon lights are flashing inside. Music that gets you moving is already thumping. And a giant inflatable penis is tied to the back bumper.

Grinning, I climb aboard and immediately see trouble.

Bree is wearing a tiara and a sash that says “I Regret Nothing.” Sasha is dressed to kill. And Whitney looks nice, too.

Mari Lynn shrieks. “Roxy is here, bitches!”

Someone, I think it was Whitney, hands me a drink in a plastic cup shaped like… well, a giant schlong. The straw is also a penis.

We are full penis overboard here. And I love it.

“Drink!” Mari Lynn orders.

“I don’t even know what this is.” I mumble. It’s bright pink.

“It’s called a Flaming Cowboy.” Bree screams, “Watch!” And she holds a lighter to the top. It ignites and I almost drop it, but it quickly extinguishes itself. “Isn’t it cool?” She exclaims.

My eyes are wide. “I’m terrified.”

“Good. Drink.” Whitney yells. “Next up, we’re doing Blow Jobs.”

Uh, what?

Mari Lynn, Bree, and Sasha laugh. I drink.

It tastes like orange, grapefruit, and Redbull.

The first bar is a country-western dive with a mechanical bull.

“We’re not riding the bull! This dress is not for the bull.” I declare.

“We’re absolutely doing the bull,” Mari Lynn counters.

“Do you remember last time I did the bull?” I ask.

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