Chapter 11: Round Two: The Handover
Priya didn't wait long for an answer.
"Watch," Leslie said. She dragged her chair, the front-row one, to the wall beside the bed, close enough to touch Bessie's straining wrist. "We've had her four Thursdays. She's yours tonight."
"Oh my God," Bessie breathed, and her hips rolled against nothing, empty cunt clenching in the lamp light, already building again after ten edges and one ruinous orgasm.
"Watch is the polite version," Megan said. She unbuckled the right ankle strap but kept her palm flat on Bessie's shin, pinning it. "We also hold her down if she needs holding. That's non-negotiable."
"Agreed." Priya reached over and unclipped the left wrist cuff, then the right. "Up, Chen. Sit."
Bessie sat up too fast and swayed. Her thighs were soaked past her knees, slick shining all the way down to her calves, and the sheet under her was dark with it. Priya grabbed her jaw with one gloved hand and turned her face side to side, inspecting her like she inspected the net after a bad quarter.
"Look at that face. Look at that mess." She leaned in, gap-toothed grin an inch away. "You've imagined this every night since August, right? Tell them what I do in the fantasy. The real version. Word for word."
Bessie's face burned. Her voice came out cracked. "You shove me against the tile. After a loss."
"Which loss?"
"Any loss. You're furious." Her eyes dropped. "You pin my wrists in the gloves. Against the wall. You tell me I let the team down."
"And then?" Priya's thumb dragged along her jaw.
"Then you," Bessie swallowed, "you go down on me. While the team's in the van outside. And they hear every sound I make."
"Louder," Priya said.
"You eat me out while the whole team hears me scream your name!"
"Better." Priya stood and pulled Bessie off the bed by the wrist, and Bessie went, legs shaking, hardly able to stand. "Turn the bed. Rotate it ninety degrees. You two, help."
Megan and Leslie obeyed before the sentence finished, and between the three of them the mattress and frame squealed across the bare floor until Bessie's bed sat sideways, headboard against the far wall, foot of the bed pointing straight at Leslie's chair. The lamp circle moved with the room's one piece of staging, still centered.
"Why the angle?" Megan asked.
"Because I want her facing the audience when she does it." Priya pushed Bessie down onto the mattress on her back, head toward the wall, feet toward the chair. "Cuffs. Same spots. Legs wide."
Leslie buckled the wrists. Megan did the ankles, slower this time, and leaned over Bessie's ear on her way past. "You heard the rules before. They don't lapse because she's running it. Announce, be loud, be honest."
"The rule," Bessie whispered.
"The rule," all three of them said, and Priya snorted.
Then Priya climbed onto the bed and straddled her thighs, facing her, sitting on her shins, and Bessie went rigid under the weight. Priya peeled her black sports top off over her head and dropped it, unselfconscious, heavy-tipped and broad-shouldered, the keeper's body, built for holding lines. She took Bessie's wrists in both gloved hands and pressed them down into the mattress above her head, exactly like pinning them against tile.
"This is August," Priya said quietly. "This is every two a.m. in the shower. Look at me."
"I'm looking."
"Tell me what you let happen next."
"You tell me I let the team down." Bessie's voice shook apart on the word team. "You say I'm a liability. You say the whole squad knows what I am now."
"And what are you?"
"Yours." It came out before she could soften it, raw and whole. "The whole time. Yours since August."
Priya made a low sound in her chest, and for one second the grin fell off her face and something rawer sat there instead. Then she bent and put her mouth on Bessie's throat, teeth first, and Bessie cried out at the sting of it, hips bucking up against Priya's weight.
"Team's in the van," Priya said against her skin, pitching her voice loud, playing it. "Whole squad parked outside. They can hear you, Chen. Every sound."
"Let them hear," Bessie gasped, and Leslie, in the chair, murmured "fuck" under her breath.
Priya's gloved hand slid down between them. Two neoprene fingers pushed straight into Bessie's soaked cunt, no warning, and the textured drag of them made Bessie's back bow and her announcement rip out of her.
"Close. God, I'm close already, I'm close."
"Already?" Priya held the fingers still, deep, hooked, and grinned down at her. "One stroke. You pathetic, gorgeous thing. Edge one. Mine counts too now, I'm told."
"They count," Megan confirmed from the side of the bed, kneeling, one hand on Bessie's hip to hold her steady.
"Then let's fill the card." Priya started fucking her with the fingers, slow and deep, curling on every drag out, and the room filled with the wet obscene sound of it, slick and rhythmic over Bessie's moans. "Tell the van what you want. Loud. You've practiced it in your head, say it."
"I want your mouth on me. I want you to eat me out against the tile and I want the team hearing me."
"They're hearing you now." Priya pulled the fingers out, drenched, held them up in the lamp light for the room, and then pushed them into Bessie's mouth. "Taste it. That's what August did to you."
Bessie sucked her own slick off the gloves, eyes closed, moaning around them, and Priya slid down her body, mouth trailing over her sternum, her ribs, the soft inside of her hip, and settled between her spread thighs with both gloved hands gripping her hips hard enough to bruise.
"Eyes open," Megan reminded from the foot of the bed, and Bessie's eyes flew open, fixed down the length of her own body at Priya's face between her legs.
Priya licked her once, flat and slow, and Bessie's whole frame jerked against the cuffs.
"Second announcement," Priya said against her.
"Close," Bessie sobbed. "I'm close, Priya, please."
"Two edges in ninety seconds. The van's pulling away, Chen. They heard everything." Her mouth lowered again. "Now come for me and let them hear the rest."
Her tongue closed over her clit and sucked, and her fingers pushed back inside, both hands working, the gloves slick and cool and exactly, precisely what Bessie had imagined a hundred nights against a thin wall, and Bessie's orgasm came up like a wave breaking, her scream tearing loose down the length of the room toward the chair, Priya's name in it, and this time the roommates leaned in, Leslie's hand on her left shoulder, Megan's palm flat on her right, holding her down against the mattress while she came apart.