Page 104 of The Dollhouse

The dress was utterly gorgeous, and it looked even more gorgeous on her body. Long and tight against her curves, with a high slit on her thigh—the one without the tattoo. The fabric was an ivory color, a thin strap tied behind her neck. She had matching elbow-length gloves to go with it, and they rested on the opposite side of the vanity, waiting for her to finish putting her makeup on. A simple design, and yet it was fucking perfect.

Didn’t quite match her pink hair, but then again, hardly anything did.

The moment we walked in, she turned her head, giving us a smile with those full, luscious lips. Lips I found myself watching anytime we were together. Soft things, capable of bringing about worlds of pleasure, especially when they were wrapped around your cock. Alas, as much as I would love to have her drop to her knees before me, I knew now was not the time for it.

However, it might be time for a little quickie for Carter.

I could tell Carter was even more upset he wasn’t going with her, now that he’d seen her in her dress, all dolled up and fucking beautiful. Hopefully what I was about to say would soothe his grumpy attitude.

“Zoey,” I spoke, my voice low and echoing in the large bathroom. “Lift up your dress.” My words came out as an order, and she knew better than to fight with me. This was not the time to be a brat—something Zoey was intimately familiar with.

Zoey set down the brush she was running along her cheeks, her light blue eyes twinkling with mischievousness. She had to know why I’d commanded her to hoist her dress up, and a single eyebrow rose on her face in return. She said nothing immediately, although when she bent down to grab the base of her dress and pull it up, she did mutter, “Just don’t get anything on the dress, all right? That’s all I ask.”

As she lifted the dress up, I watched it skirt above her knees. Her legs were bare—no tights or pantyhose to be seen, something that would most definitely be a shock at the party later. I doubted anyone came to these things with a slit so dangerously high, and if they did, they certainly had to wear something beneath.

All Zoey wore underneath, however, were her panties; a bright white, thin and lacy. They hugged the curve of her ass perfectly, making my cock twitch and harden in my pants. I wanted to run my hand over that ass, grab it, slap it, feel it rocking as I fucked her.

But now wasn’t the time for that, either.

“Carter,” I growled out his name, “don’t you want to wish Zoey good luck tonight?” We all knew I didn’t mean with my words. There was only one way Carter could do so; he was much better with his body than he was with words.

Carter’s green gaze ate up Zoey’s appearance, and he moved away from my side, going to her. His hands found her ass immediately, fingers toying with the lace on her cheeks. Zoey’s eyelids fluttered shut, and I knew that pussy of hers had to be clenching in wait, in anticipation of what was to come: Carter’s cock, nice and hard, filling it up as he bent her over the vanity.

One of his hands dipped between her legs, curling around her body and touching her along her slit. Zoey’s breathing shifted, and she pressed her stomach against the edge of the counter. Though I was not privy to her thoughts, I knew she was ready for him. She always was. My Zoey enjoyed putting on a show, liked being on display. She liked being fucked rough while I watched.

By the time Carter’s hands fell away from her, his cock was steel in his pants, a bulge that said more than words ever could. He fiddled to undo his belt, unzipping his pants and pulling his length out. His pants fell around his ankles, but he made no moves to step out of them. He fisted his cock, drawing a low moan from his throat, and he positioned himself behind Zoey.

A finger tugged at her panties, pulling them aside, and he pushed into her with one thrust of his hips. Zoey’s pink-haired head fell back, a feminine sound coming from her the moment he filled her up.

It was a scene I’d never seen before, yet just like any other time all the same. I might never have seen her holding onto a fancy dress while Carter pummeled into her from behind in a marble-coated bathroom, but the specifics of it did not matter. The only things that mattered were the two people before me, the heat radiating between them, the sounds they made when they were together.

Two bodies, uniting as one. Fucking wildly, uncontrollably. Carter’s grunting mingled with Zoey’s sighs. My own cock was steel as I watched, and as much as I wanted to pull myself out while watching them, I refrained. Watching them got me all worked up, but actually doing it would only make it worse. It would be all that filled my mind tonight, so I’d put it off.

Perhaps afterward I could have Zoey to myself, tear that dress off her body, rip it into shreds as I went at her. Hmm. That would be a thought which would fuel me tonight, for it’d been a few days since I last tasted that pussy for myself. Unlike Carter, getting my dick wet in that pussy—though unbelievably fun—was not something I needed each and every time. I liked building up the anticipation, the hunger, the urgent need.

Plus I liked watching. Before Zoey, I never really wanted to join in. But, like everything else, that had changed the moment I laid eyes on the pink-haired girl.

Carter and Zoey’s appetites were alike in that they were never sated. Never full. They could always go for another round, always ready for another hard fuck. They were similar in that way, and perhaps that was why Zoey had fit so well with us. Carter was in a constant need to fuck, while she had a constant need to show off.

I watched them go at it, watched Carter’s pace grow rapid as he shoved his cock deep into her pussy. I breathed hard as I ignored the twitching of my own cock in my pants. Carter’s hands went to grip the counter’s edge, getting him a better angle to go at her. Zoey’s top half was bent over the vanity, over her makeup, though she was careful to not let her dress get stained by anything. Her whole body swayed with every thrust of Carter’s hips.

They were wild, but they were beautiful together. Carter was like a ravenous beast, seeking out the release of his cock, letting her pussy milk his length. He grunted with every particularly rough thrust, his hips starting to jerk more erratically. He was so angry he couldn’t go with her, so jealous I was going, and he put that emotion behind the fucking.

And then, just like that, it was over. Carter came with a thunderous growl, jerking his cock into her cunt roughly. His body pinned hers against the counter, his ass clenching and tightening as he emptied himself inside of her, spilling his cum into her core.

Carter didn’t want to pull out; I didn’t have to be a mind reader to know that. Alas, he had to. He stumbled back, still breathing hard, his cock glistening. He did not bother trying to hide his unhappiness—still envious of me, but assuaged by the fact he’d gotten to fuck Zoey before we went.

As he put himself away, Zoey fixed her panties and dropped her dress, smoothing the ivory fabric out flat. Carter’s cum would stain her panties the rest of the night, and I was more than fine with that. Carter would definitely get off on the idea he was there in cum and spirit.

“Well,” he huffed, doing his belt, “I hope you two have lots of fun.” His voice dripped sarcasm, and he didn’t even try to sound happy that Zoey was finally going to approach her parents. That was Carter, though.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Zoey quipped, giving him a smile that would’ve knocked him off his feet if he weren’t already walking away. “We’re going to have loads.” I wasn’t sure if she chose that word on purpose since Carter had just emptied his own load into her pussy, but after she chuckled to herself, I knew she did.

Ugh. Maybe this would be a long night.

Zoey finished up, applying the last touches of her makeup and checking her dress did not give away the fact she’d just gotten fucked nice and hard. When she was ready, we said goodbye to Carter and went on our way.

The Dolores estate was not far from the house I’d rented out. It was exactly the kind of mansion you’d come to expect from Hillcrest; honestly, I didn’t know how Zoey had grown up around here and become the person she was. She was the opposite of what this place had tried to mold her into, what her parents had attempted to force her to become. And I was more than fine with that. If she’d become a simpering, haughty trophy wife, I never would’ve met her, and where the hell would I be?

---