Filthy Rich Vampire Husbands

by Gisele St. Claire

  Opening the door to our bedroom I saw it had been decorated with white roses, the sheets a crisp white silk. Jayden picked me up. “I’m going to carry the wife over the threshold.” He laughed.

  “Is it too early to discuss starting a family?” Carter yelled.

  We all groaned.

  And then we groaned some more in a totally different way.

  THE END

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  An MFM menage.

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  Tiffany

  Monday evenings were girls night in our apartment in Dyker Heights, Brooklyn. All three of us worked as realtors for a Brooklyn Real Estate company and we worked damn hard. So Mondays were downtime, complete with pizza and beer. There was me, Kayla and Haley. Our Monday nights were for sharing stories about work and to catch up on our—currently nightmarish—love lives. None of us were having much luck on the romantic front.

  “Please can we not watch a movie with a sexy leading man tonight, because I swear my pussy will combust and it won’t be a pretty sight,” Kayla moaned. At twenty-four Kayla was tall and slim, with pale skin and long wavy red hair. She was stunning but attracted to men who were dicks. She hadn’t had a date for at least two weeks and it was killing her.

  “That bad, huh?” I asked.

  “Yeah, I might go visit Daniel. While I’m there, I can see if there are any hot men currently hanging around Long Island.” Kayla’s stepfather lived on Long Island. Her mother—a serial cheater—had moved on long ago and had lost touch with her daughter. Kayla hadn’t stayed at Daniel Scott’s much, but out of all her many stepfathers’ he had been the only one to be a pretty decent man and he had always said there was a room for her at his home, even after her mother’s departure. She visited rarely, but felt she owed it to him to check in. Guilt from her mother screwing him out of a lot of his cash no doubt.

  “Well, I have a date tomorrow night. I think this might be the one,” Haley said.

  Kayla and I groaned simultaneously. Haley was a born romantic and every date she had, she thought would be her Prince Charming. Instead they ended up being the Princes’ of Darkness. Petite, with long straight dark brown hair, and an ass a Kardashian would envy, Haley was soft spoken and quite innocent. She’d only had one lover—a long term sweetheart—and when he had left her after college she had been devastated. She had felt he was her one, and we were sure she believed that one day he would actually come back for her.

  “God, dating sucks,” I proclaimed. “I had another loser send me a message through the company email today.”

  “Ugh, creep.” Kayla said with a smirk on her face.

  It happened a lot at Green's Real Estate. Our photographs were on the web page under Agents, along with our direct line and email address. Usually, it was a breathy phone call asking whether I was wearing panties, but today’s had been an actual email.

  I brought it up on my cell. “Listen to this,” I told my friends, then began to read it out loud.

  Tiffany,

  Is this really you on your photograph? I guess I’ll have to find out by meeting you. Right now, I’m looking at this headshot with my ten inch dick in my hand. I’m imagining that my other hand is fisting your shoulder length blond hair, dragging your head downward toward my cock. Those green eyes are wide and begging for me to open your pouting lips and fill you with my girth. Your pink gloss is smeared over my cock while I push myself in and out of your hot mouth. You might try to hide your breasts under that baggy top but I can tell you have huge tits begging for release. I’m going to suck on your nipples and then I’m going to stick my cock between those creamy mountains and fuck them until I come all over your face, your smeared pink gloss mixed with my creamy cum.

  Speak soon, H.

  “Oh my fucking God, what a creep,” Haley gasped. “Did you report it?”

  “Nah, I get similar things at least once a week. Don’t you?”

  Haley shook her head. “No. I’ve never had a message like that.”

  “She doesn’t have a photo up does she?” Kayla reminded me. “She’s the sensible one.”

  “Well, I replied that I found his post offensive and to not contact me again.”

  “Really?” Kayla asked cocking an eyebrow. “I think it’s damn hot.”

  “You think everything’s hot today. You need to go out and get laid.”

  “I do. I really do.” She whined.

  “Okay, Haley, get the pizza ordered. Kayla go grab some beer from the fridge and I’ll choose a movie. One with some ugly dudes and no sex scenes whatsoever.”

  “I think even an old wrinkled guy with warts would do it for me right now,” Kayla moaned.

  “Chick flick it is.” I announced.

  That night, with my stomach satisfyingly full of pizza and feeling sated thanks to a couple beers, I quickly changed into my shorts and camisole and climbed under my duvet. I dreamed vividly, about a man with short blond hair. I met him in a bar and he was someone I had known in the past. Years had passed, and I found him hot and attractive. He felt the same. I woke just after we had shared a panty melting kiss, with the promise of meeting again. A sigh escaped me. It had seemed so real and yet was a figment of my overactive imagination. My thighs clenched together. I didn’t want it to end there. Fuck it! I’d carry it on in my half-awake thoughts.

  I return to the bar and to the image of this blond-haired man. My lips back on his. His tongue invades my mouth, going deep and tangling with my own.

  “Want to get out of here?” He asks.

  “Yes.”

  I picture the frantic removal of clothing in his apartment and then my mind reverts back to the email I received earlier. I try to get my thoughts to take a different route, but they’re relentless. In my imagination I drop to my knees, taking the man’s raging cock in my mouth. I’m so full, I have to stop myself from gagging. I cup his balls in my hand and lick around the tip of his swollen mushroom head, letting it slide in and out of my mouth. It makes a popping sound each time I let him free. He’s frustrated and gripping my hair, forces me to take him deeper in my throat. I suck hard and he groans, his pleasure evident on his face. He watches me, eyes alert as I continue to suck. He fucks my face hard until I feel his balls pull back, tightening and then he fills me with his cum, emptying his load straight to the back of my throat. I swallow him down and lick my lips. He thanks me and wipes a thumb over my lip, smearing my pink lip gloss and droplets of his cum up my cheek.

  “Beautiful.” He says in a deep husky voice.

  Goddamn, I couldn’t take any more of the fantasy, so I spread my legs wide apart and shoved my hand down my shorts. I could feel my engorged lips, slick with my juices and I pushed one finger, then another into my pussy. I pistoned them, imagining they were my fantasy lover’s cock. It took me over the edge and I tried to be quiet—with my friends' rooms so near to my own—but I had to let out a tumultuous scream as I shuddered with my orgasm. The sound was unmistakable. I felt my cheeks flush, so I pulled my legs together; the aftershocks, smaller shudders, still coming. My breath finally evened out and I felt so relaxed, all the tension having left my body. I turned over in bed to finally try to get some sleep.

  “I want whatever you’re having.” Kayla shouted out from the adjacent room.

  Fuck! I pretended I was snoring by making loud noises as if I was innocent, but in reality my hand went back between my legs, feeling how soaked I was and how much I had dampened my shorts.

  Our apartment had one open plan area with a dining table to one corner, small kitchen to another and a living room that faced a large balconied patio window. To the back of the room was a long corridor, where at the end were our three bedrooms and two bathrooms. The main tenant, Haley, had the room with the en-suite bathroom and patio window with balcony, and Kayla and I shared the other bathroom. Walking past, I could hear the shower running and her singing. I wasn't a morning person,
preferring to have coffee and breakfast before my own shower so this worked out just fine. I poured a coffee from the pot and took a seat at the corner table, banging my mug down on the table top. Hot coffee sloshed out of the mug, scalding my hand.

  “Fuck me, that’s hot.”

  Kayla chose that moment to walk through, rubbing her hair with a towel. “Is that what you were saying last night in your fantasies, you dirty bitch?”

  I blushed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “If that’s how you want to play it.” She impersonated my loud orgasm noise. “That noise came from your room last night; you might want to check out what it was.”

  Haley turned to us from her position on the couch, tossing her magazine down. “There’s nothing wrong with masturbating. We all do it. Christ I’d have seized up by now if I didn’t.”

  “Haley!” We said in tandem. It’s so unusual for Haley to say anything so bluntly.

  “Well it’s true. My B.O.B. is my other best friend apart from you two.”

  We all laughed.

  Haley changed the subject, obviously done with any carnal conversation. “What’s everyone up to today? Anything exciting?”

  “I’m showing a client around a condo at Brighton Beach.” I told them.

  “Oh my God, I love it out there,” Haley said, her hands clasped together. “Swap me so I can go visit.”

  “Not a chance with the commission I’ll earn if I get him to purchase.”

  “It’s a purchase, not a rental?” she asked.

  “Sure is. A steal at $3.5m.”

  “Oh my God.” Haley said in a surprised tone. “Do you think between us we could buy a brick each?”

  “So my schedule is to meet the client at eleven, and I have nothing else going on because I centered my whole day around trying to get Mr. Carter of Carter Property Enterprises, to part with his cash.” I swallowed the rest of my coffee and snatched Kayla’s pop tart out of her hand. I took a bite and walked toward the shower. “Catch you guys later.”

  “Thanks for waiting to listen about my day,” Kayla yelled out. “And for eating my breakfast.”

  I waited for Mr. Carter to show up in the lobby of the Brighton Condominium and Club. The lobby looked like any other luxury hotel: with reception, and a concierge, on first entering, and with a waiting area, plus bar and restaurant set further back. The building had twenty-four hour security, a gym, pools, and private beach access. I didn’t want coffee breath when I met my client, so I sucked on a mint while I watched the doorway.

  Two men entered the building at once. One was middle-aged, balding, and short. The other looked like a movie-star. I bet I knew which one was my client. Sure enough, the older one walked toward me. “Could you tell me, are you Miss Harris?”

  “I am.” I shook his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Carter.”

  “Oh, no, sorry, you’re mistaken.” The gentleman said. “I’m Mr. Carter’s driver. He’s waiting for you in the bar.” I turned around, following the man’s pointed finger and my gaze was met by steely grey eyes from the movie-star man. “If you would like to go through to meet him, I’ll go wait in the car.”

  I was intrigued. He couldn’t introduce himself? I supposed he didn’t know for sure it was me. Not everyone looked up my photo like the pervert. I stood up and brushed down my peach, knee-length skirt. My heels clacked on the marble floor as I made my way over to the bar.

  “Mr. Carter?” I held out my hand.

  “Miss Harris.” He took my hand in his, holding it a fraction too long. I noted his hands were huge, his fingers had thick digits. His skin was as smooth as the marble floor under my feet. I took in his appearance: blond hair that was slicked back and came to midway down his neck and his chin was covered by a touch of pale stubble. He was a man who worked out, had a medium-build, and I would put him at six foot two. He was dressed in a sharp business suit, but lacked a tie and his white shirt had the two top buttons undone.

  “I thought we would talk first before you showed me the condo. I like to know who I’m doing business with.” He stated.

  “That’s fine.” I nodded, removing my peach jacket, as it was becoming too warm for me in the bar. I watched his eyes follow my jacket, pausing for a fraction as my pale-blue blouse gaped at the front. Sometimes my large bust was entirely frustrating. I tried to keep my jacket on wherever possible and cover the girls up, but today was too warm and I gave up. I’d just have to put up with my chest being spoken to. It wouldn’t be the first time. However Mr. Carter’s gaze quickly returned to my face, and that’s where it stayed throughout the rest of our conversation, which made a refreshing change.

  He ordered us two mineral waters. I didn’t mind. I found a lot of these successful businessmen liked to do that. Displaying their egos as they took charge.

  I explained about my background with Green’s.

  “So you have a lot of experience with rich businessmen then?” He asked, appraising me coolly.

  “I’m one of Green’s main realtors in high end real estate.”

  “Could I ask you something personal?” His finger skimmed around the top of his glass which emitted a whistling sound.

  “Sure, though whether I’ll answer or not depends on the question.”

  “Do you have rich businessmen bothering you all the time, thinking they can buy you as well as the property?”

  My eyes narrowed. “No. They’ve never been anything but professional. They know should they be anything less, their reputation would be tarnished. Green’s is a very friendly firm and we are all looked after. I have an alarm that rings straight to the office. Should anything unexpected occur, the cops would be on their ass before they’d have a chance to feel mine up.”

  “Good. I’d hate to think you had to put up with that,” he answered. Mr. Carter smiled at me and it changed his whole appearance. His face looked years younger. I swore his eyes looked a warmer shade of gray, and his lips parted to show a row of pearly white teeth with one canine slightly twisted at the right-hand side of his front teeth. The fact that he had this slight imperfection pleased me. He was too perfect before. Now he seemed more human, just from that one flaw.

  “Are you ready for me to show you the condo now?” I asked him.

  “Absolutely. Lead the way.” He said.

  We took the elevator up to the eighth floor and I walked us to the apartment and opened the door.

  “After you.” I told him.

  He walked inside.

  The apartment opened up into a spacious hallway which resembled a mini version of the downstairs lobby with the marble floor. There were coat hooks, a coat rack, shoe racks and a sofa. I pushed and held open a further door which led into a vast open living area. There were windows to the front and right of the apartment that all overlooked the beach. The sunshine streamed in through the windows making the room glow and showing it to its best potential. The view was nothing less than stunning.

  Mr. Carter turned to me. “Amazing view.”

  “Yes, it’s something isn’t it?”

  He looked at me and there was a beat of hesitation before he replied, “Quite something.”

  The open living area housed a large kitchen which ran from where the windows ended on the right-hand side. It was dark wood and masculine. Not to my taste, but I hoped it appealed to his. I was led to believe this was a personal purchase as opposed to a business one. Quite a few clients purchased Brighton Beach condos and stayed there in the summer, commuting from their New York apartments. I showed him the bathroom next which was large, white, and functional.

  I sang the praises of the separate large shower cubicle.

  “It’s just a bathroom. It’s fine. Show me the master bedroom please, Miss Harris.”

  “Of course, right this way.”

  I opened the master bedroom door, and he walked through first, heading straight for the large window which gave him the same fabulous view of the beach. His gaze scanned the rest of the room: a
simple wooden bed and matching bedroom furniture.

  “What’s your opinion of this room, Miss Harris, because I find it lacking.”

  I squirmed under his stare. “I agree, this room is quite basic given the luxury furnishings of the rest of the property; however that may be something you could use to negotiate on price.”

  “Do you know what would improve this room?” He asked, passing me and walking toward the door.

  I shook my head. “I wouldn’t know your own interests but I’m sure you would be able to hire an interior designer to bring to life any vision you had.”

  “What would improve this room...” He hesitated before switching the lock on the bedroom door. “Would be your naked body lying on that bed.” His voice lowered to a husky whisper. A whisper suited for seduction.

  I reached into my pocket for my alarm.

  He held up his hand.

  “I’m not going to attack you, Miss Harris.”

  My heart thudded in my chest. “Then why did you lock the door?”

  “Just a precaution, so that no staff members accidentally interrupt us.”

  “Accidentally interrupt what? I’m showing you a condo.” I snapped.

  He walked towards me and whispered in my ear.

  “Well it’s up to you. You can reach past me and unlock it. I won’t stop you.”

  I sighed. By now I should have kicked him in the balls and made my escape, so why hadn’t I?

  “Perhaps I should introduce myself properly, Tiffany.” He smirked and held out his hand. “My name is Henry Carter, but you can call me H.”

  My eyes widened. Fuck! That email. It was him!

  “So, Tiff… if I may be so bold as to call you that. Either you can leave, or you can lie on that bed and we’ll do everything from my email and more. You decide. All I can say is that I wasn’t lying when I said ten inches.