“I’m just saying that if I don’t want to wear panties, I won’t wear panties, and there is nothing either of you can do about it.”

She squeals when I spin her around and yank her down to the couch with me, bending her over my knee. Her skirt rides up, showing me the shadow of her sweet little ass cheeks. “You want to tell me again what you think I can or can’t do about it?”

Penelope squirms. “I’m not your plaything. You can’t just—” She stops talking when I tap her ass with just my fingers.

Shane hooks one finger under the hem of her skirt, flipping it up so her bare ass is out in the open. I rub one cheek with the palm of my hand, trying to judge how far we’re taking this. What she wants and expects from me. From us. It’s not like I’ve ever spanked anyone before.

Her ass is so soft. My hand itches.

“Look what you’re making us do, Penelope. Are you sure you don’t want to be a good girl?” Shane asks, playing good cop, I guess.

We don’t have a safe word or anything since this is not something any of us planned. So, I guess we’re winging it. “If you tell me you’ll be a good girl and put on some panties, I’ll let you up,” I say.

This is it. She’s going to push off my lap and move out. Hating me, thinking I’m a kinky asshole.

“You can’t make me wear panties,” she answers, her voice strong and bratty as fuck.

She wants this.

The sound of my hand slapping her tender skin pulls out a moan from all three of us. Her skin pinkens instantly. My cock thrusts against the zipper of my pants, and I’m sure she feels it beneath her. I stroke over her ass with a gentle touch as she gasps.

That was so fucking good.

“Spank her again, big daddy,” Shane says, sitting in the chair across from us and pulling out his cock.

Fuck, I wish I could pull mine out. But I don’t think I have the control I need to not slide it into her pussy balls deep. She arches her back, pushing against my hand like she wants another one. So I give her more. My palm connects, landing hard several times, until she’s pink and tender. I’m distracted by a groan from Shane. When I look up, I can’t help but watch him jack it right in front of us. We make eye contact, and I slap her again, connecting to my best friend in a way we never have before. He nods.

We’re filthy, dirty sons of bitches.

“Look at what you’re making Shane do, Penelope. Now we’re going to be so late,” I growl.