Journal Of A Timid Temptress Read Online Free Page A

wanted to get to know you a bit better, so we set up a casual party for three. I think you'll enjoy it."
    He had come up behind me after shutting the door. Now he put his hands on my shoulders, as if to steady me, or perhaps keep me from bolting.
    Linds smiled. "We've discovered we both enjoy some games, but not necessarily only between the two of us. I'm bi, as you may have guessed by now, and Phil...well, Phil just loves sex in any shape, color, size or flavor, don't you, dear?"
    You're getting an education. You're getting an education.
    I repeated that in my head like a mantra as I struggled to come to terms with this totally unexpected development. A ménage a trois. I am going to be part of a ménage a trois! Now that will be education with a capital "E."
    With his hands still on my shoulders, Philippe propelled me through the doorway he'd headed for last weekend, down a hall and into what was obviously the master bedroom. Although it was a good bit larger than my matchbox-sized room, it was still dominated by a huge four-poster bed. That bed looked like it belonged in a medieval castle! Had to be at least a king size. The posts looked like they had been whole trees in their last incarnation, too.
    Looking closer, I saw the posts and the headboard were studded with rings and hooks, all sorts of hardware. The metal was dark so it blended into the dark wood unless you really looked. Well, I looked so hard my eyes nearly popped out.
    I mean I'd heard about this sort of thing, whispers and glimpses in the type of magazines hidden behind the counter in the news stands. Some of the frat boys collected them and figured a girl would get turned on looking at the pictures with them. In your dreams, dudes. They really don't get it. But that's beside the point.
    Linds had followed us down the hall. Now she circled around us to the foot of the bed, stooped to pull open a drawer, and reached in. From it, she extracted a handful of cords, a couple of pairs of handcuffs, and some other things I could not see clearly enough to figure out at the moment.
    As my shock began to fade, I came back to the immediate with a jolt. Philippe had drawn me closer against him. Now he bent to nibble my neck from behind as he began to unbutton the front of my shirt. For a moment, the fact Linds was standing there watching us bothered me. Then I told myself it was her choice to do so, and after a few more seconds, I was too far gone to care.
    I swear, it felt like Philippe had half a dozen arms, like those statues of the deities in India. His hands were everywhere. My shirt came undone, peeled off and fluttered to the floor. Then the clip came out of my hair, freeing it to fly in every direction with super-charged exuberance. Bra followed shirt. Then one or more hands massaged my boobs, feeling every bit as good as I had known they would. I couldn't keep my eyes open as sensory overload kicked in.
    My nipples beaded as the tender skin began to tingle. Another hand undid the front of my jeans, then slipped down inside, a firm, warm pressure on my belly and gradually lower still. Moving my hips in a totally involuntary grind, I made a helpless sound, a mixture of whimper and moan, about that time.
    The answer came in a sharp crack. My eyes flew open to see what had caused it. Linds was apparently getting impatient. She now held what looked like a scaled down cat-o-nine-tails, which she'd snapped against her boot. When she did it again, Philippe shoved me forward. My jeans were sagging around my knees, so I stumbled. In desperation, I kicked them off. That left me in only my panties, a red thong.
    Linds reached for me, as if to catch me should I actually fall, but I didn't. Still, I was none too steady on my feet as I approached her. She caught my arms at the wrists. For an instant, she hesitated, looking at me sharply.
    "You're doing this of your own desire, aren't you? Entering into the game as a consenting adult?"
    I wasn't quite sure what this was about,