I'm so proud of you.

You looked so sexy tonight, no wonder he came over to chat you up even though I had been right there with you all night. He was nice enough to me when I came back with your drink, but still had his gaze locked on you. You had your little dress and your little smirk on. You love the attention. And you know I love the attention you get too.

So when you reached out and touch his chest, quite a bit more muscular than mine, he grinned like you were the conquest. He doesn't realize; he is. All those "subtle" flashes of your legs to him were practically programming him to come over and try his luck when he thought I wouldn't know. He had no idea we'd already talked about him and whether he'd help you put on a good show for me.

He continued his little come-ons, trying to impress you more than he thinks I can. I'm quiet, reserved behind you. Biding time. You ate up the clumsy flirts like a silly little freshman, playing the role he wants to believe in for the night. So when a few more drinks passed and his hands have grazed your bare legs a few more times, he thinks when he asks if you want to go back to his place, it's an easy win over the skinny guy on her other side. And when you stood and leaned between his legs and whispered into his ear, "No, let's all go back to ours," his eyes widened at me, finishing my bourbon calmly and paying his tab.

I drove us, you two in the backseat under my watch. His eyes kept flashing at my rearview reflection, still reeling in the moment as you pawed at him. As you told him how much I like watching. How much you like being watched by me. How he's going to get to fuck you tonight, and how I'm going to enjoy every moment of watching how good you fuck him right back. How my only rule for the two of you is he doesn’t get to cum inside you; That’s saved for me. He can do anything else he wants. And at the end of the night, we'll call him a car and send him away, while I stay home and proceed to fuck you even better than he did.

Hopefully he takes the challenge.