Filling Her Steins: MFMMMMM Oktoberfest Reverse Harem Menage

by Farrah Paige

  Filling Her Steins

  MFMMMMM Oktoberfest Reverse Harem Romance

  Copyright 2018 by Farrah Paige.

  All Rights Reserved.

  Sign up to my newsletter and get a free

  BONUS EPILOGUE that follows these characters,

  plus a free book!

  Contents

  Prologue

  Elrica

  Chapter 1

  Aiden

  Chapter 2

  Liam

  Chapter 3

  Logan

  Chapter 4

  Rogan

  Chapter 5

  Dag

  Chapter 6

  Leo

  Chapter 7

  Elrica

  Chapter 8

  Aiden

  Chapter 9

  Liam

  Chapter 10

  Rogan

  Chapter 11

  Dag

  Chapter 12

  Elrica

  Chapter 13

  Leo

  Chapter 14

  Elrica

  Chapter 15

  Dag

  Chapter 16

  Logan

  Chapter 17

  Rogan

  Chapter 18

  Aiden

  Chapter 19

  Liam

  Chapter 20

  Leo

  Chapter 22

  Dag

  Chapter 22

  Elrica

  Chapter 23

  Aiden

  Chapter 24

  Liam

  Chapter 25

  Logan

  Chapter 26

  Dag

  Chapter 27

  Elrica

  Liam

  Leo

  Logan

  Aiden

  Rogan

  Dag

  Epilogue

  Elrica

  Extend Epilogue

  Aiden

  Liam

  Logan

  Leo

  Dag

  Elrica

  Sneak Peek Excerpt of Double Stuffed

  Prologue

  Elrica

  Berlin, Germany

  As the youngest Vice President ever appointed to KDLM International, I should have been happy, but I’m wasn’t. Don’t get me wrong, I liked the work and the wunderkind rep I’ve acquired, but there was something unnerving about being at the top.

  All these years, I had worked to get this position. I had proved myself, a woman in a man’s world and at a huge corporation with global interests. How many people can say that? Not many, baby!

  Somehow I thought once I reached the peak, it would be easier. Maybe I could relax and enjoy my success, but that wasn’t happening. I couldn’t focus. I couldn’t unclench. The tension in my body hadn’t left and I had more responsibility than ever.

  The worst part about it, now that I had the job, I felt like everyone was out to get me. I know, I sound paranoid, but you’re not paranoid if it’s true. When you reach the top, all anyone around you wants to see is for you to fall. Makes sense. That’s what I wanted to see from the guy that had the position before me. And when he failed, I swooped right in and took the spot.

  But I didn’t realize the real battle was keeping my gains.

  No one was in the building yet. I had always come in early while I was pushing for this job and now I continued that practice, coming in most mornings when it was still dark outside. Today though, I was feeling particularly wound up. Relaxation had to happen or I was going to snap. So, with no one in the building, I figured I get myself off. I am, generally speaking, an exemplary employee, except in this one compulsive area.

  Reaching into the secret drawer in my desk, I punched in the key code. I had the strong box installed by the tech guy from India. He didn’t speak a word of English and he’d never met anyone in the building before. I flew him in with a translator from Japan, both in the middle of the night, to install the box. The lock was encrypted and there was no way anyone could get inside without a blowtorch capable of cutting through titanium.

  It cost a small fortune for a reason. My company secrets were in this little metal box along with my gold plated, vibrating dildo. Taking a towel from the bathroom and closing all the blinds, I pressed a button on my desk that locked all the doors. Additionally, a light would blink if anyone approached the door within a few feet.

  You might say I was going to ridiculous lengths to procure privacy for a bodily function I could do at home, but I couldn’t do it at home. I had to do it here. I had tried doing it at home in the morning and by the time I got into work I was tired and almost late. I tried waiting until I got home, but the tension was too great. I needed a release at work, sometimes two, three or four times a day.

  Since I worked 16-hour days, this was the only reasonable solution.

  With the world closed off, I lubed up Goldfinger. I have this great lube that heats up a little with body heat and smells great. It’s all organic and imported from Iceland. I teased my clit and then penetrated myself with it, but as always, the real show played on in my mind.

  I was in an orgy––an orgy all for me. A battalion of men serviced me. I don’t know how many. Lots. One after another they fucked me to completion. Each one had a hard body and an even harder cock. Some of them ate me out, while I sucked on their cocks. I let their semen fill my mouth and cover my naked body.

  I gripped my gold dildo, blasting it in and out of my pussy. I threw one leg up on my desk so I’d have better access to my dripping nethers. The pleasure in my brain was so intense. I’ve always known that I needed more than one man to satisfy me. I could take as many cocks as my body and imagination would allow.

  The more cocks I imagined, the harder I came. I slowly turned Goldfinger around and pressed a button, making him Goldfingers. An extension protruded that was just perfect to stimulate my tight little ass. I dripped a little natural lube on it from my mouth and then continued to violate myself. With my free hand, I stuck my fingers in my mouth, imagining that they were cocks.

  Finally, my body shuddered as I came still more. It was an intense, hard won orgasm that caused me to squirt all over the seat. I cried out, but stopped myself so no one could hear, even though I knew no one was around. I quivered and bit my lower lip to stifle myself.

  Now I was relaxed and ready go about my day.

  Sighing with satisfaction, I cleaned up, slid my panties back on, put Goldfinger away. I fixed my lipstick and checked my business suit in the bathroom. There was a convenient, tiny hamper for towels, in which I deposited my damp towel.

  The perfect crime.

  Now that I was no longer distracted, I set about to check my daily emails. There was nothing unusual. I answered some, ignored others. I couldn’t help but think as I answered or didn’t, what my colleagues would think of me if they caught me doing what I had just been doing. The answer was simple. They’d do what I did to get here, use it to their fullest advantage.

  My promotion had not been cheered by everyone at KDLM. There were several bitter old men that I beat out for the job. My youth, my gender and my abilities crushed them. I just knew they were conspiring against me now. They shunned me. Before, it was all lunches and friendly hellos, but now that I was the boss––they feared me.

  Good.

  But that fear came with a price and that price was that they were probably conspiring against me. In this toxic corporate environment, you couldn’t be too careful. One badly worded tweet, email, post and you are done. Explanations be damned.

  However, those frail old coots––those pussies––they just made
me work harder. Look at me now. It’s not even six and I’m done with my emails. I’d have most of my work finished before nine while those bitter old dicks would still be rolling in to start their day.

  And they actually wonder why they lost to me. It’s simple. I wanted it more. And when I want something, I get it. End of story.

  As I finished my emails, I reached for my cup of coffee.

  I’m being so stupid! Sabotaging my coffee would be so easy!

  I smelled it immediately. There was something off about it. Maybe I was being paranoid or too picky. I had read about a drug in South America that kept you lucid but vulnerable to any suggestion. Hell, they wouldn’t have to go that far. Just roofie me, then search my office––they could plant stuff or steal stuff and I’d have no memory of it until waking up.

  Or maybe it was something worse. Maybe it was poison. Not poison to kill me, per se, but enough poison to make me sick. I’d start feeling run down and weak, then make mistakes. Those mistakes would pile on, someone would capitalize on them and bam! I’m out of here.

  Or maybe they just pissed in it to show dominance.

  Fuck it. I threw out the coffee. I had finished my emails, so why not go to Starbucks? They’d never see that coming! I walked all the way out of the building just for coffee! Ha! They must think I’m stupid. They’re the ones that are stupid!

  I grabbed my purse and headed for the door. I pushed the button to raise the blinds again. The darkness was adding to my paranoia. Maybe I was imagining it all, but still, it would be nice to get out of the office for a minute.

  I took the elevator down to the lobby. But when I arrived at the bottom floor and walked outside, I got a big surprise…or, to be accurate, six big surprises.

  Chapter 1

  Aiden

  New York, New York

  My brothers and I were getting kicked out of the Broken Lyre Pub. Not by a longshot the first bar we’d been thrown out of, but what made it even worse and more humiliating was that the pub was owned by our sister, Fiona.

  “I don’t want to hear another word about your bad investments, boys,” she declared. “I told you, if you kept hanging out with those two Kraut idiots, ye lose all your money!”

  “C’mon, Fi,” I said. “We’re family. You can’t treat us like this.”

  “Oo, are ya, Aiden? Really? Am I to go broke for every one of those Ponzi schemes those two sharks lure you into?!” she shouted. “I told ye! I told ye all!”

  “We Irish have to stick together, sister!” objected Liam. “Even if we weren’t blood, we bleed green!”

  “The only green you bleed is money!” she said. “You sit around my bar and talk big about all the money you’re going to make, but then don’t make any of it! Do ye have any idea how high your bar tab is after a year? Do ye?”

  “Would that be adjusted for the interest?” asked Rogan, actually trying to figure it out. “Wait, do they even charge interest with bar tabs? Is that a thing?”

  “No, shut up Rogan,” said his twin brother, Logan. “The exact amount of money is hardly at issue.”

  “It is at issue!” insisted Fi. “That’s the entirety of the issue! If you had money to pay me or if you just paid your bill every time ye came in here, we wouldn’t be in this mess!”

  “You make it sound like it’s our fault the tattoo shop failed,” said Liam.

  “It is your faults that the tattoo shop failed!” ranted our sister. “Whose fault would it be otherwise? You four were making the tattoos! You were sued eight times!”

  “In our defense, that wasn’t our fault,” I said. “Businesses get sued. That’s part of the marketplace, right?”

  “Aiden, ye misspelled all those tattoos! Eight times! Not one of ye learned to spell check?” snapped Fi.

  “I’m trying to create great art,” said Liam, with a note of superiority. “These guys were in charge of the money.”

  “Don’t dump this on me!” said Rogan. “I installed a two-thousand-dollar computer system specifically so you could spell check!”

  “He can spell check on his phone!” snapped Fi. “This is what I’m talking about! Ye got no business sense between the four of ya!”

  “Oh, big deal!” said Logan. “So you run a bar! Anyone can do that!”

  “The Broken Lyre now has 200 locations in this state alone. It’s a phenomenon,” reminded Fi. “We’ve got over 3000 locations worldwide, not to mention our own brewing company and a line of bangers and mash featured on the Food Network.”

  “Look, I know Leo and Dag have set us back some,” I said, trying to reason with her. “But those guys are our friends. They wouldn’t rip us off on purpose. We’ve just had a string of bad investments, that’s all.”

  “Yeah, well, the string ends here!” snapped Fi. “I’m cutting you all off! Go get jobs and work for a living!”

  “But you’re married to four billionaires,” I reminded her. “Couldn’t you get us jobs with them?”

  “Yeah, something artistic, but not too much work,” added Liam.

  “And ask them if they do flex time,” added Rogan. “That would work better for me.”

  “It’s the least you can do so we can pay ye back,” added Logan.

  Fi frowned and slammed the door of the Broken Lyre. That’s it, we were done. She had actually cut us off and with the money all gone––it was just a matter of time before we were all out on the street.

  “Fiona!” I said shouting through the door. “Look, I’m sorry. I promise we’ll find a way to pay you back. Right guys?”

  I literally had to pull my other three brothers to the front door and make them apologize and promise. It was exhausting being the oldest McCool brother sometimes.

  “We’ll pay you back, I swear!” I vowed. “Before we return. We’re going to look for jobs right now!”

  We started walking away from the bar.

  “We’re not really going to look for jobs, are we?” asked Liam. “Do you have any idea how many tattoo shops there are in this town? It’s a highly competitive business.”

  “Yeah and one in which we have zero credibility,” I reminded him. “She was right about that. Those lawsuits were murder on us. Plus Leo and Dag’s investments didn’t do us any good.”

  “Why don’t we head out, grab some steaks and beers and think this through, huh?” suggested Liam.

  “That’s exactly what she’s talking about it!” I snapped. “We don’t have the money to piss away on steaks right now! You’re going to have to go home a make a sandwich or something,” I informed him.

  “All I have in my fridge is a steak from yesterday’s meeting,” said Liam. “You want me to eat day old steak?”

  “We’re going to go broke, you moron,” said Rogan. “Stop spending money! Eat everything in your fucking fridge! We need to cut back!”

  “I don’t know if that’s even going to do much good if we don’t get some income coming in,” I said. “Do we have any tattoo equipment left we can sell?”

  “No, the bikers took it all,” said Logan. “I really didn’t want to negotiate with them and when I say negotiate, I mean get the shit kicked out of me.”

  “You?” said Rogan. “You’re usually up for a scrap.”

  “Not when it’s 12 against one,” said Logan. “Those guys were for real.”

  Chapter 2

  Liam

  “This is bullshit,” I declared, taking the lead. “Our sister is married to four billionaires. That’s billionaires with a B! There’s enough money to go around. Why should she care about some stupid bar tab?”

  “That’s not the point,” countered Aiden. “What kind of men are we if we just sponge off our sister and her husbands? Look at all she’s done with the bar! And what have we done?”

  “Speak for yourself,” I insisted. “I’m an artist. Do you know how much better I am since we opened the tattoo parlor?”

  “You don’t have a tattoo parlor to tattoo anymore,” pointed out Rogan.

  “Also not t
he point,” I insisted. “I don’t need money to grow as a person!”

  “You need money to eat,” pointed out Logan. “And to pay our bills. We got bills, lads.”

  “For hundreds of years, noblemen would fund great artists,” I pointed out. “It’s not just necessary, it’s history!”

  “We should be getting our bar tab paid because of history?” scoffed Aiden.

  “Yes! If DaVinci was here right now, wouldn’t you buy him a beer or anything he wanted?” I pointed out. “You can’t let a genius starve on the street. It’s immoral!”

  “So, let me get this straight,” said Aiden. “You think you should get a free ride wherever you go because you’re the next DaVinci? Is that what you’re saying?”

  “Potential DaVinci,” I corrected. “Artists don’t truly endure until after they’re dead. Then people see.”

  “Well, we got that to look forward to,” muttered Rogan.

  “Besides, we’re all Irish,” I insisted. “And the Irish have to stick up for one another. What will become of us if we forget that?”

  “You know we’re in America right now, right?” added Aiden.

  “Even more reason we have to stick together,” I pointed out. “America’s a big melting pot. Well isn’t it? Maybe for some, three or five generation’s deep. There’s still the competition of the marketplace! Ya think an Italian family would cut off its brothers like that? Or a Jewish one?”

  “If we were Jewish, we’d have money,” joked Rogan.

  “And if we were Italian, we’d be able to cook something good to eat,” added Logan.

  “Aw, hell,” I said frustrated. “I can’t believe you’re not seeing this! This is our time, lads! And we have to make the most of it.”

  “By begging to our sister?” added Aiden. “Because I’m not doing that. We have to take responsibility, Liam. We have to grow up and make our own money.”

  “Oh, okay!” I said sarcastically. “Let’s do what our sister did and marry four billionaires. That bar was going to be foreclosed upon before they showed up and she knows it. She’s a hypocrite! She can take a handout, but she can’t give one out to her own blood and kin.”