One Cheer to Win
Page 15
“Zander here is destined for greatness,” he said with a firm nod. “The prince. The heir to the throne. He has a great mind too. That’s what your teacher told me, Zander.”
“Oh…”
“For inventions. Gadgets.” Father nodded proudly. “You actually got that from your grandfather. I was never the outside-the-box thinker. That was his forte. I was always a by-the-book sort of man.”
Kika leaned in and flirted with Dad. “I respect a man of authority.”
I hadn’t really flirted with any girl at that age. But I did know what it was…mainly from late night cable channels that Dad always ensured I had in my room.
But that night, dad wasn’t interested in fulfilling his own needs. As if he had any. By God, the man could order people around left and right. He didn’t need to harass anyone, women threw themselves at him. He had sugar babies everywhere he went. A CEO at one of the Troy consulting firms once told me that my father never once paid for sex…but he paid women to leave.
“Well if there’s one thing my boy needs, it’s a sense of authority,” he said with a smirk. “I don’t want Zander becoming a wimp. Isn’t that right, boy? What do we always talk about? Discipline. That’s what makes business thrive. And coincidentally that’s what a man needs in relationships. A dominant man will never be alone. That’s for damn sure.”
The girls were tickled at the thought and continued staring at me. To the point where it was creepy…then a little nice. Then just kind of insane, like my dick was growing so fast…at a pace I couldn’t even control.
I knew at that moment I was going to lose my virginity that night. Not to one cute virgin girl like I probably deserved…but to two high-priced whores.
“Are you a big boy, Zander?” Kika asked me, curling her long, golden hair, which I stared at in fascination, like I was eying a lava lamp for the first time. “Or do you need some discipline?”
“He’s a boy,” father said. “He needs to be taught discipline. In a way that only women understand.”
Marie stared me down from across the table. She smiled, probably knowing this confused young man’s boner was out of control. She began sucking on a cherry, still eyeing me mercilessly. I had never had a blowjob before or even thought of a girl sucking my penis. Girls actually sucked dicks?!
What can I say…I only had softcore Cinemax back then, not hardcore Internet porn!
But I instantly knew what she was telling me. That she was going to pleasure me. Teach me. Teach me how to handle the intensity of touch, how to control myself. Then, how to let go. But always, ALWAYS, in control.
“Well then,” father said, standing up and taking another puff of a cigar. “Looks like I ought to be getting to bed. But Zander here is going to sleep in tomorrow. Zander, you don’t mind if these two lovely ladies spend the night, do you?”
“We’ll be quiet,” Kika teased.
“We’ll TRY to be quiet,” Marie said.
I nervously shook my head no. Then clarified. “Sure, uh…they can, uh…stay in my room. And I can sleep on the couch or whatever, you know, whatever!”
The girls laughed.
Dad only smirked and then left the room.
I can hardly describe what happened that night, let alone remember in great detail. When you’re that young, you don’t recall thoughts and sensations of that moment. But the images and the sounds stay with you, even years later.
I still remember some of the awkward beginnings. That it took me hours to learn that a man ought to seduce a woman. The girls were obviously given very clear instructions. Don’t give me anything unless I ask for it.
So we sat around my bedroom for what seemed like hours, chatting about nothing, and in pained silence as the girls continued to suck on fruit and kiss each other in boredom.
They had to coax me a little bit, to get me to claim my dominant sexuality. At first my voice was hesitant. Scratchy. Stuttering. They were very clear about what I was doing wrong.
“I’m just here to talk,” Kika teased. “Unless you can think of something else you want to do, Zander.”
“Well, yeah, maybe!” I laughed.
“What’s so funny?” she said, losing her smile.
“Maybe you could…uh…kiss me. Instead of each other.”
“Which one of us are you talking to?” Marie asked with feigned confusion.
“I want…you both to kiss me. I want to make love to you.”
“Which—?”
“BOTH,” I corrected, blinking my way through my first Dom talk. “I want you both. I want a threesome with both of you.”
“What a dirty boy!” Kika said. “Just for that, we’re going to have to discipline you.”
“Yes!” Marie said. “Dirty boys get what’s coming to them.”
I was confused…was I doing the “sexy talk” wrong? I thought. I hadn’t any experience in this sort of thing. I thought I was mimicking the soft core porn stars fairly well. But it turns out when the girls said “discipline”, they were serious about training me in matters of love.
When we started fooling around each of them took turns spanking my bare bottom. When they went down on me they made sure to linger around my shaft and gently kiss my erection for what seemed like an eternity. They wouldn’t let me cum.
They wanted to make sure I asked for such a privilege in the right way. They ignored me when I begged. They cock-tortured me with gentle sucks when I joked around. They slapped my shaft around and spit on it when I asked questions.
Finally, I figured it out. I told them I wanted to cum. I told them exactly what I wanted—NO, what I demanded they give me.
“Swallow that dick, you whore!” I belted out. My eyes bulged as tight as my balls.
I was shocked I said that…but they were turned on. They obeyed when I talked down to them. They sucked harder when I commanded them, forcing their delicate lips to take my full erection into their mouths.
I came three times that night. I sort of remember what it was like to release…but more than anything, I just remember the pretty image of me, being surrounded by breasts, by beautiful uncovered breasts all over my bed. The same bed that I grew up in, that I played video games in…now a place of filth, body fluids and juicy tongues.
I can’t even say that my father took any creepy perverted pleasure from the experience. He actually never said a word about it.
The next morning, the girls were gone before I woke up. I never saw them again.
I saw my father eating breakfast in the dining room. I smiled at him…but he didn’t mirror the feeling back. He merely looked at me and sort of raised his brow, suggesting that no words could aptly describe what just happened so why the hell even bother?
“Sit down, boy,” he said, welcoming me to breakfast. “You know, a long time ago, I had an interesting chat with your uncle Walter.”
“Oh…” Now that was a strange shift in conversation.
“Turns out Walter had overheard me and another schoolboy talking about something obscene. You see, my friend and I had been out collecting change and we happened to mention something very distasteful about one of my teacher’s genitalia.”
“Oh…” Talk about not knowing what to say! I stared at him stupidly and nodded in terror.
“It was an absurd comment, not just obscene in nature but insulting to the poor woman of whom we were speaking of. Anyway, Walter overheard that comment and he told my buddy to get a move on already, that it was suppertime. Well, when Walter spoke to me alone, he made it known that he heard the comment.”
“Uh huh?”
“I was nervous and ashamed. So I blamed it all on my buddy. Said it wasn’t my idea to say it.
“Walter didn’t respond in anger. He simply nodded and gave me an even-tempered warning. ‘Boy, the intimacies of a man and a woman is sacred talk. Not the sacred talk of god, you see, but the sacred talk of womankind. No one’s ever going to tell you to be classy, to be discreet. But women ASSUME you will. Because real men don’t tell st
ories. Juvenile men, boys, and jackasses tell stories.’”
“I understand.”
“Good.”
And we literally never spoke about sex ever again. He knew I was getting lucky. He always had that proud look on his face, as if I was keeping the Troy Stag Reputation alive and well.
But we were men and we never spoke of such things. Maybe that’s why I’ve always LIKED talking about sex. Because even now, just as it was back then, it was a dopamine rush to talk about such juvenile things as tits and asses. The real forbidden fruit was not what I did in those early days, but in admitting to other people what I did. Always in fear, always in red-faced shame. But the jubilance of telling someone, and that man giggling in jealousy, was the real RUSH.
But, by God, I can’t remember a time I was ever innocent.
KEEP READING…
Author’s Note
Thank you for reading One Cheer to Win. I hope you had fun reading the story as much as I did writing it.
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- Romi Hart
Also by Romi Hart
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Book 1 - One Kiss to Win
Book 2 - One Chance to Win
Book 3 - One Cheer to Win
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Book 2 - Addiction
Book 3 - Passion
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Book 1 - The Billionaire Bull
Book 2 - The Billionaire Bastard
MC Romance
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