Dr. Stud

by Jess Bentley

  “I sent you the link,” Spencer shrugs as he drops his overnight bag against the wall.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I shoot back irritably.

  Spencer holds his hands out. “I did tell you, because I sent you the link. What do you have to complain about… you’re next anyway.”

  “Oh,” I huff. “Well, all right then.”

  “It’s okay, big guy,” Bunny says, placing her palms on my chest and rising on her toes to kiss me. “It can’t all be five at once. Not every day, okay?”

  “Yeah, I guess,” I agree grudgingly. “It’s just that all six of us are on, you know, our private jet. There’s a bed. A big one.”

  “Wait, what?” she says, looking around. “Where’s the bed?”

  “Right here,” Brock grins, touching the control in the wall to make the panel slide out. After twenty seconds of a whirring noise, a queen-size bed has slid to the middle of the floor.

  Bunny bounces on the edge, patting it with her fingers. And she leans forward to peer through the doorway at Sophia.

  “Oh, I would say she’s just about asleep. Maybe after they go through the safety regulations, we can test this bed out? That sounds like fun. Can we start the calendar tomorrow maybe?”

  Trey looks at Brock. “Yeah, okay,” Brock sighs heavily. “I’ll just go put the baby to sleep.”

  Bunny’s eyes track him as he walks past her, closing the nursery door behind him.

  “Hold on, what’s going on here? Can he just do that?”

  “Oh, yes, Brock is the best at putting people to sleep,” Trey remarks.

  I slide onto the bed next to her, wrapping my legs around her and drawing her close to me as she giggles.

  “Hold on,” she objects. “The flight attendant is going to be here any second!”

  “Nah, we sent her into the cockpit so we could have some privacy,” Trey replies breezily. “Spencer can always handle drink service, can’t you, Spencer?”

  “Way ahead of you,” Spencer answers as Trey closes the hatch.

  I brush the sable-colored bangs away from her eyebrows and cup her jaw in my hands, tipping her face toward mine. She kisses me gently, her tongue fluttering against my upper lip and reminding me of her mind-blowing blowjobs.

  “So we have you all to ourselves, Bunny,” I inform her. “Satisfied?"

  “Not just yet!” she teases me, brushing the tip of her nose against mine.

  The jet engine sound fills the cabin as Spencer pours champagne into flutes, placing them in the stabilizing cupholders throughout the room. Even as he does this, I feel his eyes on us as he watches me slowly undress our woman.

  She slips out of the silky floral wrap she wore to the plane, revealing a lilac bra and panty set in handmade lace. They look delicate, probably too delicate for me to take off her without destroying them.

  “These are beautiful,” I tell her.

  She bats her eyelashes at me. “Thank you,” she replies.

  “Take them off.”

  Drawing her lower lip between her teeth, she stands up from the mattress, turning slowly in place. Her fingertips drift over her perfect, smooth skin, sliding just beneath the waistband of her panties. Gently she wiggles them over her hips, then turns around to show me just the top of her ass crack, revealing it little by little as she works the panties down her thighs.

  They fall to the floor, and she slides the straps of her brassiere off her shoulders before unhooking the back closure and letting her breasts free again.

  The nursery door opens and then closes.

  “Aw, come on! I missed it!” Brock objects. “That’s what I get for putting our daughter to sleep.”

  “You can go next,” I growl at him, my eyes hungry for her. I can’t look away.

  She raises her arms over her head, brushing her fingertips against the ceiling of the cabin. When she spreads her ankles, her inner lips swell, peeking out at me and inviting me to taste her.

  My brothers are all silent as she rolls her hips slowly back and forth, enchanting us again with her form. With her calves flexed as she’s up on her toes, her legs are sculptured and lean, graceful and long.

  “Lean back a little for me, Sully, will you?” she purrs.

  I lean back and place my weight on my hands as she steps on the mattress, walking past me to straddle my face and sit on my shoulders with her cunt against my nose. Automatically I begin lapping her, fucking her with my tongue, burying my face in that sweet pussy.

  She grinds against me, and I keep my eyes open so I can look at her beautiful, frilly inner lips. They’re so delicate and pretty, I don’t want to risk damaging them, but I also want to fuck the living hell out of her.

  I suck her pussy until she comes, watching my brothers as they touch and suck at her breasts. The jet is picking up speed now, dashing down the runway. As soon as she stops quaking, I flip her over onto her back.

  “We’re almost in the air, baby,” I tell her as I take her knees and slide them over my shoulders. I open her pussy with my thumbs and fit my cock into that little hole, filling her to gagging.

  “Unnnnnnnhhhh!!” she groans as I split her with my fat dick and we climb into the air. The shift in g-force shoves her back on the mattress as I pound that beautiful pussy, my hands digging into her thighs, my need immense.

  If I didn’t have four hungry dogs watching me, I would go all afternoon with her. I would make her come over and over again, until she begged me to stop. Until her begging was too exhausting. Until her juices were gone.

  But I know they’re waiting for me to finish so they can have time with her, and I can’t just ruin her. So as soon as I feel that tantalizing whiff of orgasm, I chase it down, letting it overtake me and drag me under, until I’m shooting my load next to her on the bed.

  Rolling off her, I point at Brock. “I guess it’s you.”

  He wrinkles his nose at the puddle of my cum next to her on the mattress.

  “Well, I didn’t want to fill her to the brim for you,” I explain.

  “Oh, well, that’s big of you I guess,” he shrugs as he climbs up on top of her, brushing her hair back with his palm.

  Bunny locks her ankles behind his heaving buttocks, letting him ride her as we soar even further into the sky. All of the window shades are up and the sunlight is blaring into the cabin, filling it up with a heavenly glow.

  Bunny comes again and again, next taking Trey, and then shy, eager Spencer, and finally Royce. When we are all done, she lies there for a time on her side, stroking her own hip as she smiles and hums to herself. My brothers are scattered about the cabin, half naked, half asleep, half conscious.

  “You know, I really wasn’t joking about this being a dream come true,” she says to no one in particular, though I am probably the one most awake now.

  She rolls onto her back and opens her knees, plunging her fingers into her sopping-wet slash. I don’t see how she could stand anything else in there, but she’s riding herself, working her clit.

  As I watch, she continues to rub that little button, until she comes again, shuddering and moaning.

  It’s amazing to me that she has this much endurance. With her affection for Sophia, and the way she has found a way to accommodate each of us, I think we finally found her. I think we have finally found our perfect woman.

  Chapter 16

  Bunny

  Dahlia finally sent me some all-caps texts wondering what was going on. So I started taking pictures of everything, every day, finding that taking pictures of a baby is really fun. I always wondered why people would Instagram an animal that hardly changes so much. I mean, one baby is pretty much like every other baby, right?

  I was completely wrong.

  Sophia is different every single day. She learns something new all the time. This week, she learned she likes apricots, but not carrots. She learned how to push a toy from one hand and pick it up with the other. It’s like I can see her figuring out the whole world in real time, from the very beginning. It’s
magic.

  So now I send Dahlia about a dozen pictures a day. Sophia making a sour face. Sophia laughing with her mouth open. Sophia sort of, kind of sitting up but really just temporarily balanced on her butt and leaning forward. She’s still too young for that.

  But I can’t wait! And I’ll get to see it when it happens!

  What I should do is send Dahlia a thank you card or something. Maybe some roses. I definitely owe her my gratitude, maybe I owe August even more than her. But at the same time, I’m not sure I could even explain it to either of them and I’m not ready to try yet.

  But I’m still mad. She certainly didn’t seem to believe this was something I was going to be good at when August suggested I take the interviews. That hurt my feelings. So I guess I am not ready to say thank you just yet, the way that I should.

  But I did get to send my mother roses on her birthday, and I bought my dad some kind of football access package for his DirecTV thing. He was pretty excited about that. And for me, there have been shoes, real designer dresses, real sunglasses.

  It’s hard to get used to spending money, though. When I got my first paycheck direct deposited into my bank, I instantly had more money than I have ever had at one time. And that was just one paycheck! Craziness!

  It’s hard to go from budgeting for twenty-five-cent packages of ramen all the way to spending a hundred dollars on a single pair of panties and not thinking about it. It hurts my stomach.

  But so far, every pair of panties is practically a single-use item. I have to buy them all the time because the guys think they are fun to rip off. They have no respect for handmade silk and lace. To them, the panties are just the wrappers on a piece of candy.

  My cell chimes, telling me which brother to expect today. I set up the calendars so that it tells me first thing in the morning, and then I know how to prepare.

  Royce likes to sleep over, snoring beside me in my bed with Sophia asleep in the next room. He sleeps in pajama bottoms, like a dad. He likes me to rest my head on his shoulder.

  Spencer likes to sleep over too, probably even more than Royce. He likes to wrap both of his arms around me and hold me all night, like a stuffed animal.

  Sully prefers that I come to his suite, and he really likes it when I do some kind of performance for him. Show him something I’ve bought, or dance for him, or strip. He is an excellent audience. But when it gets late, he begins to fret about the next day’s work. He says he can’t sleep if I am there, because he’s worried he’s disturbing me. Kind of a paradox, but I think one day we will get through it.

  Today, It’s Brock and Trey… both. At first, Brock and Trey liked to meet in the mornings. Then maybe again later in the day. But now, they have been talking about consolidating their days, so they could both be with me two days in a row. We’ve talked about going to Mexico for the weekend. I’m just waiting for my passport to arrive.

  When Sophia goes down for her nap, I shoot Trey and Brock a quick text to let them know I’m free.

  Baby is asleep. I need u now!

  In moments, I hear my front door softly open. I’m sure they’re being quiet, not wanting to wake the baby. She’s only sleeping about forty-five minutes at a time this week, so everything can go sideways if we disturb her. That’s another thing I didn’t know about babies: they change their minds about how long they like to nap every few days or so.

  But for now, she’s sleeping soundly so I can get my groove on, guilt free. I lean back on the bed, ankles crossed, waiting for my bedroom door to open. Brock and Trey come in, anxious as high schoolers. They look me up and down with hunger in their eyes.

  “That’s beautiful,” Brock smiles. “Is that a new one?”

  I pluck the hem of the sheer nightie I’m wearing, holding it away from my thigh. Trey’s eyes immediately dart to my sex, and I’m not wearing any panties.

  “You mean this?” I ask, licking my lips. “I had Agnes make it just for me. I’m glad you like it.”

  “Stand up and let me see,” Trey suggests, the growl in his voice belying his urgency.

  Slowly I slide from the bed, noting how the skirt billows up as the air moves. It’s a brassiere on top, sewn with Swarovski crystals that looks sort of like a night sky. The midnight blue skirt swirls down, weighted by rosettes at the bottom.

  This was Agnes’s suggestion when I came to buy panties for the dozenth time. She asked how I could possibly need so many. I explained—without too much detail—that my lover didn’t know his own strength and couldn’t undress me without destroying the delicate little things.

  After pursing her perfect, full lips for fifteen seconds or so, she brightened. She promised to make me something that would solve my problem, and this is it.

  No panties required. In fact, I shouldn’t even need to take it off.

  Raising my arms over my head, I roll my hips like a belly dancer, causing the skirt to flutter and swing over my skin. Trey and Brock squint, automatically enchanted by the half-concealment the sheer fabric creates. I am glad they didn’t ask me to shave my pubes. I like to keep them trimmed into a triangle, which they are currently staring at with delight.

  “I brought us something,” Brock smiles, still watching my pussy. He pulls a small, clear bottle from his pocket and holds it out.

  “What is it?” I smile.

  He pushes it toward me slightly, just to tease. As I approach him, I start to figure it out.

  “Is that… lube? Why would I need—”

  My voice chokes off as I realize what he’s implying. Now I understand why they both intended to be here.

  Wiggling his eyebrows, Trey rubs his hands together. “You’re going to love it, baby, trust me.”

  “We’ll go as slow as you need,” Brock assures me.

  My stomach twinges. This makes me very nervous. I’ve never had anyone—never, not anyone—even ask to touch my asshole, let alone put anything in it. It always seemed like an incredibly dirty thing to do. Definitely taboo, and probably a lot more fun for them than it is for me.

  But I did sign a contract, so….

  “You’re, um, going to have to show me what to do,” I mutter uncertainly. “I mean, I’ve never—”

  “That’s the best part!” Trey nods avidly. “You’re an ass virgin. You’ve never had anybody, so we’re the first. We’ll show you everything.”

  “Yes, we’re thrilled!”

  “So… you can’t both get in there, though, right? I mean, who’s going to do the honors?”

  “I will,” Trey grins broadly. “After all, I saw your ass first.”

  “Yeah, pretty sure that’s cheating but whatever,” Brock sulks.

  Grinning, I remember when we met on the airplane. It was pure chance, my first flight and his rare appearance in a commercial airline because of the jet being unavailable. I wonder about the billion things that had to go right to make that coincidence happen just that way.

  “I did not show you my ass,” I school him. “You’re making that part up.”

  “Oh, I could see it… maybe it was just my vivid imagination, but I could see it that first time you walked in front of me. I thought to myself… now that is definitely an asshole I would like to break in.”

  “Trey!” I object, swatting his arm. He catches my hand in midair and pulls me to him, wrapping his other arm around my waist. As his lips close over mine, his hand drifts down to cup my butt cheek, and then his fingers slide right into my crack. His fingertip taps against my hole, as though knocking on the door.

  “At least eat her first, Trey,” Brock sighs irritably. I can tell he is salty about giving away his chance to get to me first.

  “Oh, I’ll do more than that. Get on the bed, Brock. I’m going to let you get your dick wet for a minute, okay?”

  “Oh! Now we are talking!”

  In a flash, Brock is completely naked and on the bed, propped up on the pillows and grinning savagely. He licks his lips and begins fisting his cock though it is already hard for me.

 
My body clenches and twangs in response, as though connected to him by an invisible line. Like there is an electric wire between us and if he is turned on, I am turned on too.

  “Straddle his face,” Trey says in my ear, from behind me. His breath is hot and silky in my ear. He slides his hands over my body, igniting me wherever he touches me. I arch my back and lean into him.

  “Yes, thank you,” I nod.

  Brock holds out his hands for me as I climb onto the bed. He lifts me up effortlessly and places me across his shoulders, my knees on either side of him. The skirt of my nightgown, I notice, easily drapes over his head, out of the way and out of danger. I might actually get to wear this nightie again sometime.

  Brock’s hands massage my thighs as he guides my pussy around his face, slurping and tongue-fucking me enthusiastically. Fireworks shoot through my pelvis as I feel my nipples tighten. Holding onto the headboard for balance, I slide my free hand into the brassiere and pinch my nipples between my fingers. I’m still tender from yesterday with Sully, but it starts to feel so good.

  “Yeah, that’s it, brother,” Trey coaches. “Get her nice and wet for me.”

  “Mm-hmm,” Brock acknowledges, the vibrations of his hum shooting through my clit. I wish he could do that for a few minutes at a time. I would come like a firehose.

  As his tongue flutters over my inner lips, I feel myself starting to come. I let it build, then release it all at once along with a gush of my juices that he eagerly slurps up.

  As I’m recovering from the orgasm, I feel hands on my hips, and I’m suddenly lifted, held steady by more hands on my shoulders. I barely have time to register the change when I realize they are working together to move me, to mount me on Brock’s hard dick.

  Already slick and relaxed, my pussy slides over his cock, sheathing him. Trey’s hands move me, pumping me up and down while I’m still shuddering from aftershocks. Brock sucks at my mouth, transferring my pussy taste to me. I taste good, sweet. I get fucked so often now, I know the taste of all of us.

  He’s fucking me slower than usual, taking his time to plunge all the way in, then all the way out. With Trey’s guidance, I coach myself to relax, let him take over. Let them do whatever they want to me. All I have to do is give in.