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2 Broke Girls: Herding Cats
🕑 Added 2021-10-21 16:00:01 +0000 UTC“I know the theme of the party was superheroes, but I think you’re going to need more than a cape and a mask to make a purple dress count as a costume,” Max said.
Not that it was anything short of spectacular, especially on Caroline. Low-cut to show off her pert little breasts, slit high on both thighs to show off her long legs, with a slender loincloth covering crotch and ass. Boots, mask, and green cape completed the look—whatever the look was.
“I’m Catwoman,” Caroline expounded. “Back when she was a legitimate character and not an S&M fantasy. Although I see you’re a fan of that era…”
“Yeah, I am,” Max said. “Any girl who can make a whip work as an accessory’s got my vote. But this isn’t a Catwoman costume. It’s Black Cat.”
“Oh,” Caroline said.
It was an easy mistake to make. Max was wearing a skintight leather catsuit, the cleavage plunging even lower than Caroline’s, to the point where the white fur trim on her neckline seemed to be the only thing preventing a nip slip. More white fur bordered the ends of her gloves and the tops of her boots, while a domino mask concealed her identity—as if anyone seeing her mostly exposed 34DDs would mistake her for someone else.
“Yeah,” Max said. “Even in comic books, not a lot of chicks squeezing a rack like this into their spandex. Gotta say, though, it’s surprisingly comfortable. I can only imagine the wedgie I’d have if I were in a Wonder Woman one-piece right now…”
“Ooh, maybe next Halloween!” Caroline chittered excitedly.
Max blinked. Sometimes she thought Caroline had grown up on Mars, not Madison Avenue. “Just remember this is biz-ness, okay? We got these invites by promising to bring cupcakes, they’re the best damn cupcakes in the city, so you’ve got to keep your head on a swivel, Blondie. The moment someone says anything about the cupcakes, you mention the Kickstarter, got it?”
Caroline seemed confused. “I’m not going as Blondie. I told you, I’m Catwoman.”
Max groaned. “Sometimes it feels like being a broke girl is the story of my life or something…”
Caroline patted her on her platinum blonde wig. “Don’t think that way, Max. Remember, I used to be filthy rich. Look at me now! Change is possible!”
Max groaned louder.
***
Despite her words, Max had a hard time focusing on work at the party. It was just not her scene—too classy, too many rich kids like Caroline had been. The costumes were all too good, not cool or interesting or cleverly made. She bet most of them had been bought off Etsy, probably for more than her mortgage was worth. Max had met enough Richie Riches to know that the innocent, well-meaning ones—like Caroline—were few and far between. For way too many of them, the only thing they could think to do with all their money and free time was find new and interesting ways to be mean. What a bunch of snobs…
Then one of them caught her eyes. He was wearing what looked like a white bedsheet, wrapped around him like a toga, with a laurel wreath on his head providing the crowning touch. Max appreciated the lo-fi effort almost as much as the body. He was young—Max would’ve bet against him topping twenty—but damn handsome for his age, with a boyish shock of blond hair and a lean, muscular physique that the toga draped over him had to show off. Well-formed legs, chiseled abs, arms that bulged with muscle. Max caught herself sneaking glances at where the toga fell over his crotch. She saw the silhouette of a third leg when the light hit just right…
“Well, do they like our cupcakes?” Caroline asked, coming up behind Max.
“God, I hope so,” Max muttered.
“Max!” Caroline took her whip off her belt and whacked its coiled length against Max’s thigh. “This is no time to get into some kind of harebrained scheme! We’re… oh my God, is that Brad Tarr?”
Realizing Caroline knew who the hunk was, Max ripped her eyes off him and turned to the blonde. “I don’t know, is it?”
Caroline didn’t notice Max’s… Maxing, now occupied herself with admiring the toga-wearer’s looks. “I used to know him. Well, he knew me. I was friends with his older brother—he was just a kid back then, but he had the biggest crush on me. And he was a lot shorter.”
“And now he’s six foot four,” Max said.
“Four and however many inches,” Caroline added in a daze, her eyes down right where Max’s had been. She sighed, thinking she was something big between Brad’s legs brush against the skirt of his toga.
Max’s lower lip drooped down in surprise. “Look at you, finally letting your freak flag fly! You should go over to him. He might remember you.”
Caroline scoffed. “Because he had a crush on me a million years ago?”
“More like four. Is he even legal? He’s probably legal, right? That’s alcohol he’s drinking…” Max shook off her own fantasies and clapped Caroline on the shoulder. “Besides, you’re dressed like Catwoman!”
“Bronze Age Catwoman,” Caroline muttered. “Why’d I have to be Bronze Age Catwoman?”
“Caroline Channing? S’that you?”
“Oh my God, he’s coming over here,” Max whispered. “Quick, how’s your breath?”
Caroline looked at her in horror. “How am I supposed to—Brad, hiiiii!”
“Caroline, holy shit, look at you!” Brad reached out and brushed his hand through the blonde hair coming out from under her cowl. “Everyone talks about you like you fell off the edge of the world, but here you are, haven’t changed a bit.”
“You have,” Caroline replied numbly.
“Yeah, I remember when I had to crane my neck to look you in the eye.” He grinned at her. “Guess you stopped wearing heels, huh?”
She simpered. He turned, sweeping his gaze to Max, putting his arm casually around Caroline’s waist even as he focused on the other woman.
“And who’s your friend?”
“Oh!” Caroline gasped, feeling his arm so lightly collaring her slim waist. “That’s… this is Max. Max, say hi.”
“Hi, Max,” Max said, nervously giggling through her daze. “So, Caroline tells me you have a brother?”
“Yeah. Got married. Moved to Long Island.” Brad shook his head. “I guess when you meet the right woman, it makes sense to you. God, you two look great. Max, you’re really pulling off that costume. And Caroline… well, you’d look good in a trash bag.” He playfully swiped at her cape. “And this isn’t a trash bag.”
“We brought cupcakes!” Max suddenly piped up.
“Oh, those are yours?”
“Yeah,” Max preened, thrusting out her chest hard enough to make the leather squeak. “Made with love. You did taste my love, right?”
“I thought they tasted… you know… good. So many people here, they just pick something up from the store. I always try and make a little something myself. It’s more, ah, intimate.”
Brad leaned forward, slightly invading Max’s space. She blushed, not sure what to do, ended up poking her tongue into her cheek for some reason.
“That wig really suits you,” he said after a moment. “And are you wearing contacts?”
“No, no, I, uh, I don’t like seeing things that much.”
Brad laughed. “I was just thinking, those eyes… Caroline, doesn’t she have the most gorgeous eyes?”
“Oh yeah,” Caroline said.
“Of course, when was the last time I looked you in the eye?”
“I don’t think we ever got around to it,” Caroline giggled.
Brad sidled in front of her, his hands on her hips, guiding her opposite him. He made eye contact with her. “Yes. A blue-eyed blonde. Absolutely stunning. I think the masks really bring out the loveliness of your eyes. Should’ve worn one myself. Would’ve been interesting to come up to you, see what reaction I’d get if you didn’t know I was your old friend Brad.”
Max was suddenly there, turning Brad to the side so he was facing her, not Caroline. She preened up to him, her hands on his hips to keep him turned to her. “Well, I didn’t know you were my old friend Brad. Would you like to know how I react to you?”
Max was even shorter than Caroline and Brad was a head taller than her. He towered over Max, and with a deep breath, Max’s neckline yawned open, showing off almost all of her low-cut cleavage.
“You’re having me on. You mean Caroline never told you about me? Maybe gave you a little warning?” Brad teased.
“Nope!” Max replied. “I’m totally unprepared. You could do anything to me…”
Caroline stood behind Brad—she put her hand on his shoulder. “You made the cheese dip, right? I could’ve sworn that was homemade.”
“Yeah, I did, actually.” Brad looked over his shoulder at her while putting his hands on Max’s where they held his hips. His fingers toyed their way along her white gloves, up to the fur trim. He petted it and Max could only watch him playing his touch through the fur, almost feeling it… “The chips, though, I broke down and got from Wal-Mart. Cooking’s more of a hobby for me than a vocation, I’m afraid.”
“That’s funny, because Max and I, we’re actually trying to make a living opening a bakery!”
“Oh?” Brad slipped his thumb underneath Max’s glove, touching the bare flesh of her wrist. “Is that so, Max?”
“Yes,” Max gasped, feeling his touch like he was rubbing liquid fire into her skin. She squeezed her thighs together. A hard breath almost made her breasts pop out of her catsuit.
“That’s why we brought cupcakes,” Caroline continued. “They’re sorta free samples. If anyone likes them, we’re happy to sell them more.” Suddenly Caroline leaned against Brad’s back, moaning tiredly as she wrapped her arms around her waist. “Uhhh, so sleepy, so boring doing the sales pitch hustle.”
“Maybe you should let Max do it a while,” Brad suggested. One by one, he pulled at the fingers of Max’s glove, loosening them from her hand. “She looks like she has plenty of stamina.”
Max bit her lip as Brad pulled her glove slowly down her forearm. “Sure, but I prefer to just lay there and let the guy work on me. I’m lazy that way.”
Caroline’s arms were still wrapped around Brad’s waist from behind. Her hands moved over his belly, one palm under the sash part of his toga. Max could see its shadow through the thin sheet; Caroline’s fingers trickling along Brad’s abs. Horny bitch, she thought. Can’t even wait until I leave the room to fondle him… then again, I’d pay good money to see Caroline fondle him…
“Maybe you just need the right motivation,” Brad said, tugging Max’s white glove all the way off. “That costume, for instance. It’d certainly give any guy… motivation. What costume would motivate you?”
“Nothing at all,” Max retorted.
“I’m the same way. Dressing up is fun, but if what’s underneath doesn’t satisfy…”
To Max’s complete surprise, Brad tightened his hold on her wrist and forcefully pulled it down between their bodies. Max was too shocked to resist—she didn’t know if she ever would’ve. Out of sight of Caroline, with Brad’s body blocking her view, he brought Max’s bare hand up under his loincloth and put it on his stiff, throbbing erection.
“What’s the point?” Brad concluded.
Max wrapped her slim fingers instinctively around the big, burgeoning cockhead. “No point at all,” she said, unbelievably feeling his angry hardness, the throb of his arousal. Her lips drifting open, Max moved her hand up and down his stiff cock. She wanted to tell Caroline to forget about inches—add another foot to the guy’s measurements.
Max couldn’t believe she was doing this… reaching under a guy’s toga in a crowded room while her roommate hung off him. There’d probably be a traffic jam down at his dick if Caroline got any more handsy with Brad. Then again, he seemed to have enough for both of them.
“Glad we’re in agreement,” Brad said. With Max’s hand on his cock, not going anywhere anytime soon, he took his hand off her wrist and moved it back, reaching behind himself to pat Caroline on the thigh. She was still resting her body against his back, doing her ‘I’m so tired/let’s go lie down’ act. “Caroline, between the two of you, you must be running a hell of a business. Max can keep a tight grip on things—even be a bit of a jerk when she needs to be.”
His enormous prick—wet, throbbing, even menacing—pulsed just inches from Max’s softer-than-she-would’ve-liked underbelly, right next to her damper-than-she-would’ve-liked pubic fur. His swollen cockhead beat a lewd, frightening rhythm against Max’s palm. It felt like a jungle drum… a rhythm of pure, instinctual sex… the wanting of his cock for her cunt.
Thank God the party’s dark, the music’s loud, and there’s plenty of illegitimate smoke in the air, she thought. Sorry, Caroline, but maybe you should’ve Mary Kay Letourneau’d this cock while you had the chance…
Max tightened her fist, really feeling how hard Brad’s cock was and how much it was throbbing. She was more aware of his thick, hot erection in her small fist than ever. The rest of the costume party was falling away… she was even having a hard time remembering Caroline… all that mattered was the cock in her hand and the mixture of fear and desire that it filled her with.
Comments
Shendude
Oooh, tasty
