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I looked at Kat. I looked at Tamsin. Then I grinned and said, “Competition. Loser buys breakfast. Tamsin judges.”
“Me?” squeaked Tamsin.
“You’ve got a tenner riding on us. You may as well be useful.”
Kat’s eyebrow went up. “Rules?”
“One round each. Ten minutes. Whoever makes her come harder wins.”
“Oh, you are so on.”
We climbed out, wrapped in robes, and moved to the sun loungers under the terrace heaters. Tamsin lay back on a cushion, glasses on, a flustered pink all over, a phone in her hand to time us. Kat went first.
I have to be honest. She was good. She took her time, she kissed Tamsin’s neck, her tits, her stomach, she ran her tongue between her thighs with her tattooed arm braced on the cushion, and Tamsin was gasping and clawing at the sheet in under four minutes. When she came, she gave a long, shuddering moan and her legs jumped. Kat sat back looking smug.
“Score?” I asked.
“Eight,” Tamsin whispered. “Maybe nine.”
I stepped up. I’d never been so determined. I went between her thighs and used my tongue, then two fingers, then my tongue again, rubbing, curling, pressing, until she was shrieking at the sky, then sobbing, then saying my name, then Kat’s, then God’s.
“Ten,” she said, flat on her back. “Eleven. I can’t feel my legs. Dani wins.”
Kat laughed so hard she fell off the lounger. Then she crawled over and kissed me. “Rematch,” she said.
At breakfast, she bought the croissants. And we all three paid the bet.
Ending 10 of 16: Scorecard. Go back and try a different choice for the full happy ending.