Her Dueling Daddies

by Lee Savino

  “I’ll hold you to it.” Mina says, and adds, “They’re shit hot, girl. And so are you. Go get ‘em.”

  I sit in the car for a million years, my hand fossilized around the cellphone. I have a decision to make. I’m in an Indiana Jones movie, on a scrap of rock between two chasms. On one side yawns the rest of my life, boring, spinster apartment, nights in. Eventually I will give into the urge and adopt loads of cats. Or at least get another cactus to keep Spiny company.

  On the other are Bear and Sawyer. Prime grade beef steak. Tanned eight pack abs. Hard dicks. Soulful eyes. Headed my direction, in slow motion, the start of my own personal porno. They wanna be players? They want a competition? I’ll give them the game of their life. They can fight over the trophy and give me orgasms.

  Either way, I’ll win.

  I dial Bear. It rings and rings. Come on, come on. It runs straight to voicemail with a beep.

  “Hey, it’s Evie,” I blurt before I lose my nerve. “I’m in.”

  “Baby.” Bear rumbles into the phone. His deep voice contains a smile. My insides curl into pretty pink bows. Coral pink.

  “Hey,”

  I realize I’m twirling a strand of hair around my finger like the caricature of a mooning woman and yank my hand away.

  “Nervous?”

  “Maybe. I’ve never done this before.”

  “We’ll go easy on you.”

  “Maybe I prefer hard.” I cover my face as my blush marches up from my breasts to my neck, headed for my face. I’ve got to get the blushes under control, or every time I quip, I’ll end up with a tomato face.

  Bear chuckles, his laugh so deep and delicious I can taste it. Forget beef steak, he is chocolate lava cake. So bad for me, yet so damn good. “Don’t worry, baby. You’ll get both.”

  Squuuuueeeeeee.

  “Come to lunch with me.”

  “I can’t. Work. I already took my lunch break.”

  “Did you eat?”

  No, I sat in my car after talking to Mina and hyperventilated. Then I left you a message. “Define ‘eat’?”

  “Evie.” A tinge of disapproval in his voice, but not sharp and cutting like my aunt’s. He cares. “You need to eat.”

  “I’ll eat.” Tonight. Maybe. I need to diet before I get naked in front of Mr. Men’s Magazine Muscle Model 1 and 2.

  “What will you eat?”

  Gah, the questions. “A salad?”

  “With?”

  “With chicken?”

  “And?”

  “And a breath mint?”

  A low grumble tells me this is the wrong answer.

  “All right, all right, I’ll get a salad and half a sandwich.” A salad won’t fill me anyway.

  “Good girl,” he says. “I’ll call you tonight.”

  I hang up, a bit bemused. Did he call me to crow about his conquest, and spend the whole time interrogating me on my eating habits? It should be overbearing but it isn’t.

  It’s like he actually cares about me. I shake my head and get busy ordering my food.

  After my sandwich I do feel better. With a full stomach stabilizing me, I put my head down and plow through work.

  When I pick my head up, I’m rewarded with a Sawyer text.

  How was the carnival?

  Great. I had an epic freak out and Bear kissed it better. I do not share this.

  You owe me.

  What? I resist the urge to add seven exclamation points.

  Pregame. Bear got his. I get a turn.

  Right. Because it’s a competition. And Bear definitely got his.

  Okay. How much did Bear tell Sawyer about our Ferris wheel moment? What are we going to do?

  I’m thinking... baseball. Or do you prefer tennis?

  Fuck. Bear told him everything.

  Pregame with Sawyer is a picnic in a park.

  “Bear says you have to eat more than one bite.” Sawyer lays out a small platter of olives, cheese, hummus.

  “He’s so bossy.”

  “Yeah, well, get used to that.”

  I grab a cracker and dig in.

  “Tennis,” Sawyer nods to the courts nearby. I shake my head. I knew I was going to regret this.

  I crunch cucumber slices and watch the tennis players until Sawyer throws an olive at me. “Whatcha thinking?”

  “Is it true you compete in everything?”

  Sawyer shrugs. “It was true in high school. After graduation, he focused on building his business and I traveled the surfing circuit.”

  “What made you come back?”

  “Who says I’m back? I go where the waves take me.” He flops back on the blanket, close enough his blond locks spill along my leg. I stroke a silky strand.

  “You and Bear seems so different. You’re a free spirit and Bear is so grounded.” Like a mountain.

  “We have enough in common. Our taste in women.”

  I roll my eyes.

  After our picnic, we stroll down a busy street.

  “Evie,” Sawyer grabs my hand to pull me to a stop. The sign above our heads reads Taboo.

  Gulp. We’re in front of a sex shop.

  Sawyer raises a brow in a silent dare. The old Evie would protest and blush to the roots of her hair. I stride towards the shop.

  Sawyer catches up in time to open the door. I smile coolly and glide past him as if I do this every day. Until I see the wall of vibrators and halt.

  Sawyer strolls past me, hands in his pockets. He peruses the garish display like he’s a spectator at an art museum. “So,” he says, “What’s your pleasure?”

  “Seriously?”

  “It’ll be good to know what you’re into.” He waggles his brows. “See anything you like?”

  My eyes snag on a bright purple dildo covered in knobs. The end forks into two. Why so many prongs?

  “Maybe,” I breeze into a second, smaller room and grind to a halt. Metal studded leather covers the walls. Leashes, whips, paddles… I reach out and caress a wicked looking crop, unable to stop myself.

  Sawyer makes a curious noise between a gurgle and a groan. His eyes are pools of pure lust.

  “I’m curious,” I offer, tracing my finger over a ball gag. “If I wanted to try something like this…”

  “Forget the competition. I’m kidnapping you to my sex dungeon right now.”

  “You have a sex dungeon?” I can’t hide my excitement.

  “No but give me an hour.” He makes a show of looking around the room. “I’ll max my credit card and make one.”

  I show him a strap on, complete with image of a domme and hooded man on his knees. “Maybe I’m the one who wants to do the kidnapping.”

  “I’m down if you are.”

  I pretend to consider this, continuing to explore. I can’t believe I haven’t dissolved into a gooey puddle.

  A rack of bulb-like items makes me pause. Some are metal, some silicone, others have jewels on the end.

  “What are—” my eyes widen when I read the name on the tag.

  “Have you tried buttstuff?”

  I shake my head.

  “Do you want to?”

  “I’ll try anything once.”

  He groans. “I need a moment. You win this round.”

  When I leave the room, he’s buying something.

  “What…?” I reach for the bag and he grabs it away.

  “You’ll find out. If you’re good.”

  I thread my arm through his. “You like me bad.” It is official. I am a different Evie around these guys.

  “Ice cream?” he asks after we’ve walked half a block.

  “Not for me.”

  Just like that, my bravado vanishes. I can’t eat dessert in front of this hot guy. Everyone is already going to wonder why he’s with the fat girl.

  Without arguing, he buys a cone and leads me down the street. He catches my hand with his free one and squeezes. We’re well past the shops, closer to the city baseball stadium when he pulls me into the shadows near a wall.


  “Your ice cream is melting,” I warn him.

  He tilts his head and runs his tongue around the melty scoop. Oh, yes, I am jealous.

  “Help me,” he tilts the cone my way, and I lean in, catching the cream on my tongue. He tugs me closer so we both can work on the cone at the same time.

  Lick. Lick. Any second our tongues will meet.

  Light explodes above our head and I jump.

  “Easy,” He puts his arm around me. “Just the fireworks. They always do this first game of the season.” A whistle and another burst of red and blue light.

  Without thinking, I lean into Sawyer’s warm, strong body and his arms come around me. Fireworks dazzling the sky, rich cream on my tongue, and a hot guy holding me equals a perfect night. Sawyer’s the type of guy I would lust after in high school but never dare talk to. I couldn’t brave the crowds of cheerleaders surrounding him, lest I be laughed off for not being thin and perky enough. Tonight, it’s easy to be with him, easier than I thought it would be.

  It’s just a game.

  I let my head fall back on his shoulder, my body relaxing into his. My booty brushes his groin and Sawyer growls in my ear.

  “Evie.” He turns me to him and grips my chin, holding me in place. Fire flowers bloom in the sky as he slants his head and kisses the hell out of me. Heat rolls up my legs, tingles the tips of my breasts. Sawyer’s lips move over mine, his tongue licking like I’m ice cream about to melt. And I am melting. I grab his shoulders and hang on for dear life.

  He breaks the kiss. For a moment we’re silent, chests heaving together.

  “That was…” I touch my numbed lips.

  “Great,” Sawyer says with satisfaction. He turns me back to the light show, holding me against his body. My nerves sing.

  “Sawyer,” I whisper, but he interrupts, breaking the spell.

  “Now Bear and I are even.”

  “How was your night with Sawyer?” It’s a few days after my pregame excursion with Sawyer. I’m sitting on my couch with the TV on silent, talking to Bear. He’s taken to calling me every night while Sawyer and I text all day. I don’t want to admit how much I look forward to Bear’s gravelly voice on the other end of the phone, even if he’s always so serious. Sawyer is flirtier.

  I touch my lips where I still feel the ghost of Sawyer’s kiss. He’d swept me off my feet until I floated in the sky with the fireworks. It wasn’t his fault I forgot it was a game. The moment he reminded me; I came crashing down.

  “Amazing. You and he are even.” There. My voice is coy and flirty, not a hint of wobble to betray my raw, unsure feelings. Which is crazy. I shouldn’t have feelings. I take a deep breath and change the subject. “We visited a sex shop.”

  “He told me.” The pure liquid heat in Bear’s voice scatters my uncertainty. I sit up.

  “He did?” I purr. “What did he tell you?”

  “Enough to confirm you’re everything we wanted and more.”

  I sink back on the couch, chest heaving. Close to climaxing from his smooth compliment. Being wanted is the best aphrodisiac.

  “Before we start, we need to discuss the terms.”

  “The terms?”

  “The terms of the competition. We each get three chances with you, alone.” I note he doesn’t use the ‘d’ word. This definitely isn’t about dating me. “If you don’t decide the winner by then, there’ll be a final round.”

  “Okay.” I’m glad I’m on the phone. Eventually I’ll stop blushing at the thought of being with them. Maybe. After three rounds each, I’ll be cool, worldly and sophisticated. Ready to jump into bed with a hot guy, no strings attached. No messy emotions tangled up inside.

  “Talking by phone or text doesn’t count as a round. It’s best if we get to know each other as much as possible. You gotta be comfortable with us.” He pauses. “You gonna be able to do this?”

  “Yes.” I am cool and calm as a movie star on the red carpet. Everyone wants a piece of me. I stand resilient in the endless stream camera flashes.

  I’ll play this role while they play their games.

  “Good luck.” I tell him graciously, then rethink it. Maybe this is like theater, where wishing someone good luck is bad luck. “Break a leg. Or a dick.” Gah, that doesn’t sound right.

  “There’s more,” he says after a pause, during which I berate myself for being the most awkward person ever. “We have some rules.”

  “Rules. Like... no rebounds?” I smirk at my own sporty joke.

  “Rules for you.”

  I sit up straighter, not sure what to say.

  “Some of them you’ll learn as we go. But if you agree to this, there’s one you need to know now. As long as we’re doing this, you don’t come.”

  “I thought the point was for me to orgasm.”

  “You will. But not without permission.”

  “So when I’m alone…”

  “You can ask permission. We may or may not say yes. And when you’re with us, you ask. Every time.” His voice is dead serious.

  “You assume I’ll be able to orgasm.”

  “I know you will.”

  “Okay, fine. I’ll ask permission.” A little heat flares in my pussy. Apparently, I like this stipulation. Weird. “Any other rules you want to tell me?”

  “That’s it for now. You ready to do this?”

  I take a deep breath. I’m a suave, sophisticated woman, about to embark on an affair with a pair of men. It’s like Sex in the City without the great shoes. “You had me at hello. Or, in this case, orgasm.”

  “Good, baby. Then it starts now.” His voice deepens. “Where are you?”

  “On the couch, watching TV.”

  “Turn it off,” he orders.

  Bemused, a little curious why I’m obeying, I do.

  “Are you wearing clothes?”

  “Yeah, what I wear to bed. Shorts and a t-shirt.”

  “You live with anyone? Roommates, baby,” he clarifies when I hesitate.

  “No.”

  “Take off the shorts. From now on you sleep in just a t-shirt.”

  I swallow. “Okay.”

  His voice changes again, becoming gentle. “You doing okay?”

  “Uh, yeah.” I do a mental checkup. My body tingles with excitement.

  “If I tell you to do something you don’t want to, just talk to me, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Good, baby,” he croons and warmth spreads through me. “Now, put me on speaker.” He waits until I confirm, then orders, “Take off your panties.”

  Oh God. Oh God. My hands shake a little as I strip down.

  “Get comfortable on the couch and keep your legs open.”

  I obey, panting a little. I feel wired, alive, like I’ve entered a new dimension. “Bear?”

  “Yeah, baby?”

  “Nothing. Never mind.” Lying back, I let my legs flop open. The only way I could be more charged with excitement is if a portal opened up in front of my TV and he appeared to watch me.

  Oh God. I was going to orgasm from him just telling me what to do.

  “You know what comes next, right?” His voice is low, heady. It hits my bloodstream like alcohol. “Touch yourself.”

  “Fuck,” I breathe.

  “No swearing. Another rule.”

  My breath gusts out in a laugh. “I can’t swear?”

  “Or else face the consequences.”

  “What consequences?” Now I’m really curious.

  “Disobey and find out. Are you touching?”

  My fingers slide against my sweet spot, my flesh growing wetter by the second. “Yeah.”

  “Talk to me. Tell me how you get off.”

  Oh God. “I touch, um, myself.”

  “On your clit?”

  “Near it. Kinda above it. Light strokes.” My voice slurs like I’m drunk.

  “Are you wet, baby?”

  Baby. I don’t know why it gets me, but it does. “Yes.”

  “If I was there, I’d make you
show me.” My fingers quicken at the tortured gravel of his voice. “I’d make you spread your legs wider and show me everything.” My legs automatically slide apart further. The angle sparks new pleasure and my breath catches. “That’s it, keep stroking. From now on you only touch when I give you permission, understand?”

  “Ah, um, okay.” I’m in no position to formulate a logical argument.

  “Are you close?”

  “Yes.” I haven’t been this turned on before when touching myself. Maybe ever.

  “Keep going. Tell me when you’re right on the edge.”

  He gets quiet, but his voice, the mental picture of him waiting, watching, dictating my every move drives my pleasure. I touch myself by his leave. Each stroke brings me closer to him and the tipping point.

  “Okay. I’m close.” My fingers speed up, grasping for the orgasm hovering just out of reach.

  “Stop.”

  I make a sound like “nuh”, but he ignores it.

  “That was good, baby. You did good. Now go to sleep.”

  My pussy pulses in protest. “What? You don’t want me to come?”

  “Not tonight.”

  “Damn,” I say, and belatedly remember his earlier instruction. “I mean, darn.”

  “Will you be able to sleep?”

  “Eventually,” I manage, and he chuckles.

  “Text me in the morning.”

  “Okay.” It’s insane how he orders me about and I just... melt.

  I hang up, feeling like I can do this. Whatever game he’s playing, it’s working for me.

  “You close, baby?” Bear’s voice heavy in my ear. Fingers strum my clit, making music of my moans. My hips rise, my toes curling. I’m wet and tight and ready. “You’re close,” he mutters with satisfaction and when he slides two thick fingers inside my channel, I begin to shake…

  My phone buzzes on my nightstand and I jerk awake. My orgasm rises like a ghost above my bed and slips away. My pussy throbs.

  Oh my God. The first sex dream of my life and I almost came. I grab my phone and click off my alarm. My legs wobble as I stagger to the bathroom. My cheeks are flushed, my nipples peaked. What is happening to me?

  In the shower, I glide my hands over my wet skin. The memory of Bear’s voice echoes in the small space, vibrating deep in my pussy. I prop my leg on the tub edge and slide a finger over my pussy...