by Tia Siren
“Take off your dress,” he said, and slowly, teasingly. Dana did so, pulling it up and over her head. She tossed it to the floor, and then bent to take her heels off.
“Leave them on,” Homer commanded, and Dana did so. She stood there in front of both men, naked save for the shoes and her panties, tight red boy shorts.
“Turn around,” Greg said, and once again Dana did as she was told.
“Wow,” she heard Homer breathe, and she smiled. She knew she looked good. Men always stared at her breasts if she was facing them, and if she turned, she caught them staring at her round ass. The boy shorts only served to make her ass sexier.
“Bend over,” Homer said, coming forward as she did so, pressing his pelvis against her ass. She found herself wanting him to disrobe, so he could slide inside her pussy, but he didn't. He just rubbed against her, while his hands explored her backside, sliding up over her back, and then coming back down to take off her panties.
“Lay down,” Greg commanded, and Dana turned and sat on the end of the bed, and then she lay back while sliding upward so her head rested on the pillows. She stared down at the two men. They were looking at her, now nude except for the heels.
“Spread your legs,” Homer said, and Dana did so without shame, revealing her wet pink snatch. “Finger yourself,” the young man added, and Dana reached down, trailing the tip of her index finger down her stomach and across her trimmed pubic hair, until she was sliding along her slit and then pushing her finger into her own snatch.
The men watched her for some time, and she gave them quite the show, sliding two fingers into herself and then three. As she was coming, fingering herself with those three fingers while using the pad of her index finger on her other hand to rub her clit, Homer took his pants off, stepping out of them and his boxers, and began pulling on his own cock. He was large, not as girthy as Greg but somehow even longer. He was uncut, something Dana had never experienced. Dana moaned and came, making eye contact with Greg as she did so.
“Taste her,” Greg said, and Homer took his shirt off as well before climbing onto the bed and lowering his head between Dana’s legs. She had just come but the young man’s tongue was like heaven between her legs, and he eagerly lapped up her expelled juices. She reached down and ran her fingers through the man's long blonde hair.
“Fuck her,” Greg said, and Dana opened her eyes and looked down, seeing that Greg was now nude, having moved to the chair beside the bed. His cock was hard, and he was stroking it slowly while he watched Homer move up, positioning his pelvis between Dana’s spread legs. The man was gentle, somehow suppressing his young man urge as he slid into her wet pussy. He fucked her slowly, gently, their lips meeting in between moans and groans.
The bed shook, and Dana looked over. Greg was kneeling beside her, his massive cock bobbing in the air above her lips. She opened her mouth, and he came forward so that his dick slid into her mouth. His hand went to her breasts as she rocked her head back and forth, sucking his cock as Homer continued to slide in and out of her pussy.
This went on for some time, and then Homer pulled out of her. “I want to feel her tongue,” he said. Greg pulled back, his cock springing free from her lips, wet and slick and shining in the soft candlelight. They moved her then, roughly, where the sex had been gentle to that point. Greg was not going to show the same constraint, and Homer fed off it. They positioned her on her hands and knees across the bed, and Homer knelt before her face. She opened her lips, and he reached down, placing one hand on her chin, gripping her there painfully as he shoved his cock down her throat.
Greg took up position behind her, his hands on her hips, and he thrust his monster dick inside her tight snatch. The men took no more concern with her pleasure, but still, within minutes, she felt herself being rocked by an orgasm for the second time that night. Greg couldn’t resist as her pussy contracted against his cock, and he thrust in once more and held there, his fingers tight on her hips as he came, his cock jumping inside of her as he sprayed his semen deep within her.
Homer moved her when her boyfriend was done. Greg left the room, going to shower as he always did after sex. Homer lay down, and Dana went to suck him again, but he took her and pulled her atop him. She straddled him, rocking back and forth as he groped and pawed at her large breasts, her hard nipples pressing against his strong palms.
“Fuck,” he groaned as he came, and the second man that night let loose inside her. Afterwards, she climbed off of Homer’s wet cock and lay beside him. He kissed her, and then got up and dressed. He left, and Dana was fairly confident she wouldn’t see him again.
5
A month passed after the threesome, and then another, and Greg remained, and their sex life was healthy. But he never invited anyone else into their bed. The relationship grew stronger, and got more serious, and Greg had begun dropping hints that Dana should leave her small apartment and move in with him. For some reason, she refused.
A part of it was her job. She still had never spoken with the mysterious buyer, the rich man instead communicating through a lawyer. She still wondered if it was Greg, and one night she decided to take matters into her own hands. She lay in bed that night, and he fucked her tits while she reached past him and used a vibrator herself. She came and then he did, spraying thick globs of semen across her neck and chin. He got up to shower, and asked her to join him, but she told him she wanted to take a bath afterward. He nodded and went to shower.
She got up as soon as she heard the water turn on down the hall, and found his cell phone still in the pocket of his pants, haphazardly strewn on the floor near the bottom of the bed. She strolled through texts but found nothing. And then she went through Greg’s contacts. It was there. The lawyer. There was the lawyer she had become so familiar with.
Dana wanted to confront Greg, but she had his splooge drying on her body, so she went and had a bath first. She stewed there, in the steamy water, and when she was done, she washed and dressed in a robe and stormed into Greg’s room.
“You have a lawyer’s number in your phone That’s the man who contacts me when Mr. White has something to say,” she said. Greg was lying on the bed, reading a book. He set it aside.
“I wanted to help you.”
Dana ground her teeth together. She had expected him to lie, and was glad he hadn’t, but she was still mad.
“I didn’t want that help from you,” she said.
“So what? Why does it matter? I have the money, I could help you.”
“You control me here. In bed. Not out there.”
“It’s not about control!” Greg said. “I just wanted to help.”
“If the business can’t make money, then it dies!”
“And then what would you do?” Greg asked.
“Start a new one! Get a new job! I don’t know, but I don’t want you sinking money into a failed cause for me. I don’t want to owe you,” Dana snapped.
“I’m just trying to help someone I care about. It’s not about owning you.”
“I don’t want your help, and I don’t want this,” Dana said, and she stormed out, still in the bathrobe.
Greg called her three times that night, and twice again the next day. And then, he stopped. The few things that she had left at his place came by way of UPS the next week. She didn’t hear from him, and Dana felt sad.
On a Monday, Dana was at the sex shop when the door opened, and a large man in a cheap suit came in.
“What can I help you with?” Dana asked.
“You must be Dana,” the fat man said. He was bald with a thin mustache that looked ridiculously out of place on his bulbous face.
“I am,” Dana said, unsure of who the man was.
“I bought this store, I was told about you,” the man said, and then he introduced himself as Michael Weathers.
“Oh,” Dana said, shaking his sweaty hand. She found herself surprised Greg had sold The Treasure Chest. She supposed that meant the relationship really was over.
“I
’m afraid I’m going to change course,” the fat man went on. “This place is the perfect spot for a buffet. I’m a restaurant man you see. I did want to offer you a job, though.”
Dana respectfully declined, and that day was the last day in the shop. Michael stuck around, and on her way out, after waiting on a few customers, and taking her last paycheck, she stopped in the center aisle and took a black strap-on to the front, where the fat man stood waiting for the keys.
“Mind if I take this?” Dana asked. “For old times sake.”
Michale surely thought the request weird, his face showed that much, but he nodded and allowed it, and after she had handed him the key, Dana went through the door for the last time.
Within a few days, she had been hired at a small store which sold overpriced knick knacks to women stopping off of the highway, and life seemed as though it would get back to normal. That night, on her second day at the new store, though, Dana returned home to find Greg waiting for her in the parking lot.
“What do you want?” she asked, and the man couldn’t help but smile.
“I love you,” he said with a shrug as she stopped in front of him. They were standing next to his cherry red sports car.
“Don’t,” Dana said, holding a hand up.
“I wanted to tell you. I can’t stop thinking about you. The… duality you have, the… I’m just…”
“Intrigued?” Dana finished for him.
“In love,” he said instead. He reached out to take her hand, and the young woman let him.
“Come live with me. I miss you. I love you.”
“I told you not to buy my shop.”
“I know.”
“I wanted to do it all on my own.”
“I wanted to help. I think I already knew I loved you.”
“The worst part is I think I love you too,” Dana said. “Or at least, I did, but now… I don’t know. I trusted you… I told you I didn’t want your help.”
Greg sighed and held his hands up. “I sold the place, you know.”
“I know. The guy came by a few days ago.”
“You found a new job?” Greg asked her.
“Yes,” Dana said.
“You like it?”
“No.”
“What do you want to do?”
“Open a new shop. Not a sex shop, but something.”
Greg was nodding. “I could help you, if you wanted. Or not.”
Dana sighed. “Why are you here?”
“I want you to take me back,” Greg said.
“Why would I do that?”
“I sold your shop. To make it right.”
“You shouldn’t have bought it in the first place,” Dana said. She was growing tired of the argument, but she found herself yearning to ask the man to come inside, yearning to pull him to her bed.
“I gave all of the money to charity,” Greg said.
“Which one?”
Greg laughed. “A lot of them.”
Dana couldn’t help it. She threw herself forward, into his arms, and he wrapped those arms around her. Their lips met, and he backpedaled. He opened his mouth to speak, but she held a finger to his lips.
“Shut up,” she said. “Take me inside and fuck me. Oh, and I’m in charge this time.”
Greg smiled. “Yes ma'am,” he said.
Dana gripped him by the hair and pulled roughly. “I said keep quiet,” she said again. And all through the night, he did.
*****
THE END
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Four under the Mistletoe Sneak Peak
Three under the Mistletoe and Four under the Mistletoe are both part of the Billionaire Christmas Menage Series. Although they are related, both can be read as stand-alones. You’ll love reading about the main characters in both stories!
Three under the Mistletoe:
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01M2A5SDM
Four under the Mistletoe:
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01MSMLOFP
Four under the Mistletoe: A Christmas Menage Romance
First Chapter
CHAPTER 1: Mandy Pitkin
Christmas morning… Present day…
Ten years ago, if you had told me that one Christmas morning I would wake up with three gorgeous, naked men lying next to me in a king-sized bed, I would have called you crazy.
If you had told me that the bed would be in the master bedroom of one of Silicon Valley’s hottest billionaires, I would have called you completely nuts.
Yet there I was. In that exact situation.
I led a pretty wild life, but even I was having a hard time believing I hadn’t woken up in a dream.
I mean, come on, who would ever imagine such a thing?
And who would ever expect to be so freakin’ lucky?
I must have been an exceptionally good girl this year, because Santa delivered everything I wanted and more.
It wasn’t a dream. It was my reality.
The best part was, attached to those three gorgeous, naked men were three equally-gorgeous cocks of varying shapes and sizes, all resting peacefully now, exhausted from their long night of spreading Christmas cheer all over and inside Mandy’s little world.
Oh, I’m Mandy, by the way.
Merry freakin’ Christmas to me!
* * *
The morning sun shined brightly through the french doors that led out to the second-floor balcony. The balcony overlooked the back of Christopher’s estate, complete with its perfectly-manicured lawn, two tennis courts, an Olympic-sized pool, and the pool house that was larger than many houses in San Jose.
Christopher had joked that the pool house alone was worth a million dollars, and his estimate probably wasn’t that far off.
Christopher had bought the old estate for six million dollars and soaked another four into it. Heck, the bed we were lying in cost twenty-thousand dollars. Who spent that much on a bed? A billionaire with nothing better to spend his money on, I supposed.
That was Christopher Kinsey.
I brought up a hand to shield my eyes from the sunshine as I slowly pried them open and remembered that I wasn’t alone.
I took a deep breath in through my nose and let it out slowly through my lips. The bedroom reeked of champagne and sweat and sex. The mix of aromas made me smile. In my world, it was like waking up to the smell of strong coffee and freshly baked cookies. I loved it.
The expensive sheet beneath me was damp and stained with a variety of bodily fluids and alcohol. You couldn’t be neat and have a foursome. Christopher would toss out the four-hundred dollar sheets as if they were made of tissue paper. Four hundred dollars was like change in a car ashtray to a guy who had four billion dollars.
Speaking of rich guys, I opened my eyes to find myself lying between the mega-rich, mega-hot, identical twins that TMZ called “The Wolf Boys.”
I just knew them as Tony and Terry Wolf. Christopher introduced me to them years ago and we’d all been BFB’s ever since. That’s Best Fuck Buddies. Duh.
We’d been sexy besties for years, but last night was the first time I’d taken them both on at once. It was a little like seeing and feeling double.
If you ever got the chance to do twins, I highly recommended it.
If you ever got the chance to do triplets, well, you’d better take pictures and send a copy to me!
With my head still resting on the pillow, I glanced to my right and then to my left. The twins were both on their backs, each with an arm resting over their eyes, snoring softly. Their tired cocks draped lazily to the right sides of their hips like sleeping baby pythons.
They looked like Greek god bookends with me scotched firmly in the middle. They were identical in every way physically, right down to the length and girth of
their cocks, but very different in what it took to satisfy them sexually.
Terry loved oral.
Tony loved anal.
Luckily for them, I loved it all.
Tony’s right hand was resting on my left thigh, and Terry’s left hand was on my right thigh. We must have been quite a sight, lying there like that. I wished Christopher had been awake to snap a few pictures for our private stash.
Their hands resting on my skin warmed me like a hot towel and brought back a flood of memories from the night before, which would go down in history as the best Christmas Eve of my entire life.
Don’t worry, you’ll get full details of our night later. For now, let’s just say that every package had been unwrapped and every nook and cranny had been filled with Christmas cheer.
I lifted my head off the pillow and saw Christopher asleep on the other side of Tony. He was on his side with his back to me. The steady rise and fall of his muscular shoulders told me that he was still asleep.
I was so happy that Christopher and I were together on this Christmas morning. It had been somewhat of a rocky year for us, and at times I had thought our long friendship might be coming to an end.
Our relationship was more than a little complicated. We’d never been a couple. We’d never even been on what you’d call a date. But we’d always been there for one another.
Christopher slept with other women and I slept with other men and women, but we always seemed to come back to each other, like moths drawn to the same erotic flame.
Christopher once called me his safe haven, the port that he always sailed back to when the seas got rough. And I always welcomed him back with open arms and legs.
Ours was a relationship with no expectations or judgments or commitments. There was no doubt that we loved each other. We just wouldn’t let that love put boundaries on any part of our lives, sexual or otherwise.