Double Stuffed: MFM Menage Romance

by Farrah Paige

  “What will you be doing to your honey buns differently?” she asked.

  “I want to surprise the audience, so I am not telling you,” I said snobbishly. “Also, if the audience knew my added flavors, they might figure it out from the taste. Then they would pick based on who made the honey bun and not the best one.”

  “Can you work with me here?” Sandra muttered, covering the microphone for a second and then going back to it. “Heh-heh. You’re right as always Chef Ethan. I wish you and Clark the best of luck.”

  As we mixed the ingredients and got the dough and glaze ready, I could not help but think about Clark’s words about Steven. He was acting strangely. His reaction to us working together did not seem normal. What was his problem? He had always been kind to me or had he?

  When I think back to when we arrived in Connecticut, I recalled him turning down a drink at the airport bar. We usually did that to wait for Clark, but that time he said he was in a hurry and that Clark’s plane had been delayed. And while that turned out to be true, the delay was short. We could’ve waited. In fact, it was his job to make me wait so I could stick to our agreement.

  But he did the opposite, he urged me out of the airport and rushed me to Honey’s Buns. He was fanning the flames of our rivalry. Some of that was only natural, we were chefs after all. But after having sex with Honey with Clark in the other hole, I found that I could tolerate his presence quite well. In France, a ménage a trios was not so odd. Successful, professional couples often had a third in their relationship for a time. If everyone got along, what was the harm. The more time I spent with Clark outside of work, the more he was growing on me. That could be because Steven was not there to stir the pot.

  We finished getting all our honey buns in the oven, as did Honey and Emma. Clark and I worked well together. Maybe we could do great things with cuisine if we worked together instead of fighting. Sandra came over to interview us. Her tired talk show mannequin shtick bored me, but I went along.

  The show had set up a round table for the five of us to sit down: myself, Clark, Emma, Honey and Sandra. It was a group interview and part of the show.

  “Okay, how is everyone doing?” asked Sandra. “Are we nervous?”

  I rolled my eyes. How I dreaded small talk, especially from small minded idiots like Sandra. Did she think she was an actual reporter or something?

  “Honey and Emma, how are you feeling about the honey buns you have cooking now? Do you think the audience will pick them over these highly decorated chefs?” asked Sandra.

  “I run Honey’s Buns in Connecticut,” said Honey. “If I can’t beat them on this, I can’t beat them on anything.”

  Steven was just off camera. He appeared to be furious. I guess he forgot that Honey’s specialty was those buns. I had no doubt she would beat us handily.

  “Ethan, Clark,” said Sandra. “What about you two? Did you feel you worked well together and that your buns will prevail?”

  “No, actually,” I said. “But there’s no shame in losing to the best.”

  “Wait, are you saying you can’t beat her?” asked Sandra.

  “I think what Ethan’s saying,” clarified Clark. “Is that we’ve both tasted Honey’s buns and they are sweet and delicious. She’s not the challenger in this venue, we are.”

  “Well, I have a surprise for you and Ethan,” Sandra revealed.

  Oh, this should be rich. What next? Is she going to bring out somebody’s baby’s mama like Jerry Springer?

  “We did a little research and found out that Steven, our producer, actually did buy the plaza where Honey’s Buns is located,” revealed Sandra. “How do you two feel about that?”

  Clark and I looked at each other, stunned. Steven looked back at us from behind the camera. He was laughing. My God. We were fools. Steven had been manipulating us. All the way up until this moment. He was no friend. The fiend had turned me and Clark and everything we represented into a joke.

  “How do we feel?” I repeated. “I am angry. But mostly, I am sorry for not believing Honey when she told me. Honey, I want to apologize here, on TV, for not believing you. It seems what you told me about Steven was true.”

  “I agree,” said Clark. “And I’m very disappointed in Steven. I thought you were a friend.”

  Clark started to stand, but I grabbed him by the arm.

  “No my friend, it is what he wants,” I assured him. “Do not give him the satisfaction. Keep your dignity.”

  Clark took a deep breath and then sat back down. Steven look frustrated. I guess he was prepared for a fight, but one was not coming. Lucky for him, I would break his filthy neck for what he had done to me.

  The timers went off and we immediately rose to get our buns. We presented them to the audience. The trays had an “A” bun and a “B”. The audience sampled each and then voted on a card. The cards were tabulated by Steven, but he was in for a shock.

  “Okay,” said Sandra. “The results are in and “B” is the winner by a wide margin. Which one of you cooked that one?”

  Steven was behind the camera laughing, but soon he would not be.

  “Originally, we were B,” I explained. “But at the last minute, we switched the letters. I hope you don’t mind.”

  Steven threw a fit behind the camera and stormed out of the room. We knew he would be poised to sabotage this thing, but if he thought we already beat Honey, he wouldn’t bother to change the letters.

  “Honey Davidson is the winner.” announced Sandra. “That’s it for Baker Battles, I’m Sandra Gonzalez. Good night.”

  “One more thing,” said Clark, adding as the credits rolled. “I hereby announce my retirement from the show, effective immediately. I can no longer work with my producer Steven.”

  “I agree,” I added. “His behavior during the past week has been unconscionable. Check my blog for a more detailed press release. Good night.”

  The show ended and we prepared to leave. Hopefully, Honey would leave with us.

  “We’re so sorry we didn’t believe you,” I repeated.

  “You guys would really leave the show for me?” she asked. “But you’ll be giving up all that money.”

  “The money means nothing without you, Honey,” said Clark.

  “Awww.” said Emma, touched by the sentiment.

  “I have dedicated my life to making good cuisine,” I said. “I can no longer work on this show in good conscience. Also, I think I love you.”

  “Awww.” said Emma again.

  Honey hugged us both and we headed out of the studio. As we waited for our Uber, Sandra came out into the parking lot.

  “Hey guys,” she said. “The studio is still interested in having you on the network. Maybe we can pitch a show. I have a deal that would allow me to pitch a totally new show with a totally new showrunner of course. Steven will be lucky to keep his job after this fiasco. What do you say?”

  I looked at Clark, we were on the same page.

  “The answer is no, I’m afraid,” I told her. “Television is no longer for us. Good luck to you Sandra.”

  We headed back to the hotel with Honey and Emma. They had one more day in Los Angeles, so we showed them around and took them to dinner to celebrate. Emma drank a little bit too much tequila and had to be carried back to the car at the end of the evening. While she laid passed out in the Uber, we made plans.

  Without the show, neither Clark nor I had any reason to stay in Los Angeles. We decided that we would join Honey back at her bakery and make it a success. We could also continued to date as we figured out our next move. It would be good to get back to my roots and cook again. I think Clark felt the same way. We loved Honey and wanted to be with her.

  Epilogue

  Honey

  A few days later, Clark and Ethan made their move out to Connecticut. Emma and I had gotten the bakery back open, but keeping up with the demand was impossible. We needed to expand immediately or move out entirely. When Clark and Ethan arrived in a limo, they gestured for me to
come outside. We had just finished a long day, but I was happy to see them.

  “Hey guys, welcome back,” I said. “What’s with the limo?”

  “We have a surprise for you,” said Clark. “Hop in.”

  “Emma,” I called back. “Can you and Marta close up shop for me and start prepping for tomorrow?”

  “Will do, boss.” Emma replied.

  “Marta is my new second helper,” I explained. “She had a ton of experience and fits right in, but the bakery is getting too small.”

  “On that we can agree,” said Ethan. “Have you ever heard of the Delnot Brothers?”

  “Yeah, they closed their place up three or four years ago, why?”

  The limo stopped at the Delnot Brothers Bakery. The place was massive. It was basically a bread factory, but the Delnot Brothers had cheapened their product and couldn’t compete in the big market place. They went out of business.

  “Why are we here?” I asked getting out of the limo.

  “This place already has everything we need,” said Clark. “Especially the space to expand. You couldn’t expand enough to fill this place.”

  “I don’t understand,” I said.

  “We bought it for you,” said Ethan. “For all of us. You can expand and we can go back to baking and making cuisine.”

  “On one condition,” I said. “I’m the boss because you two do not get along.”

  They smiled and agreed. We all hugged. We weren’t just a three-way couple, we were in business together. The boys had tried to buy out Steven, but he wouldn’t sell. After a few months and renovations, we made the move no problems. Steven, as it turned out, was being sued by his former partners. He desperately wanted to sell the plaza, but couldn’t now. Clark and Ethan didn’t need to buy it any more.

  “With some extra staff, I could run out the lease and then close down the old location permanently. Honey’s Buns would be reborn as a massive bakery and restaurant,” I suggested. “A place this big needs an eatery.”

  “We’re going to need a big staff,” said Clark. “Other bakers and support staff out the wahzoo.”

  “Yes,” agreed Ethan. “But I think with the airing of the last Baker Battles, it will be most justified. We’d still be lucky to keep up with the demand,” said Ethan.

  I was never so happy. We went back to the bakery and told Emma and Marta. Then they went home for the day and I celebrated with the boys in the closed bakery. I pulled all the blinds. I kind of suspected what was going to happen next and I didn’t want anyone to see.

  This time, I made sure the back door to the kitchen was locked. I got out some of the glaze I used for the honey buns. Keeping on my chefs hat, I took off my baker’s jacket and bra and glazed my tits.

  “How do you like these honey buns, boys?” I smiled.

  Clark laughed and Ethan’s eyes went wide. Ethan was first upon me, grabbing my right breast and licking at the sticky glaze. Clark first tasted it with his finger.

  “Delicious as always,” he said smoothly. “You’re a tasty treat.”

  “I get tastier,” I said playfully. “And I hope you’ll glaze me with your hot, stickiness soon.”

  “Mmm,” said Ethan hungrily. “The food makes it so sensual. Oh. I am becoming so aroused by the sexuality and the food.”

  “Well, let me see what creative thing you will do,” I challenged Ethan. “Find some food to fuck.”

  Ethan looked around and found an éclair leftover from today. He whipped out his already engorged cock, bit off the end of the éclair and then slid it down his penis like a delicious condom. I got on my knees to consume it.

  “Mmm,” I said nibbling his cock and eating the éclair. “I love the cream. Now add your special cream.”

  I gave Ethan a very sloppy, sticky blowjob that mixed with cream, chocolate and pastry. He was overcome by the erotic use of food and shot his load into my face. I got my mouth over the head of his penis and caught the last half of it. I licked up the mixture of cum and cream. The taste was sensational.

  “Oh, my God.” panted Ethan. “Never have I. It was so incredible. I had no idea that food could be so sexually arousing for me.”

  “I’ll give it a try,” proclaimed Clark coming back from the fridge.

  Clark had found a large cannoli and did the same thing with his cock. I bit down on the crunch shell and ate the sweet cheese and mixture of chocolate chips.

  “Mmm,” I said consuming. “Eating you guys is the best. I never knew blowjobs could be so fattening.”

  I consumed the cannoli and was licking the sweet cheese off Clark’s unit.

  “Come on baby,” I said, my face covered in cream, chocolate and cannoli cheese. “Give me more filling. Fill up my mouth.”

  “Oh, God.” said Clark.

  His cock burst forth with a spurt of jizz. It hit me in the eye, causing me to laugh and open my mouth further and then the next spurt went right down my throat. I felt my way to get over the top and consume all the cum.

  “Jesus Christ,” panted Clark. “You were right, Ethan. That was amazing.”

  Cleaning off my face, I went to the fridge and found some whipped cream and strudel filling. Removing my pants and panties, I climbed up on one of the tables and started dropping sweetness all over my pussy and the surrounding areas. I was covered in sticky apple filling and whipped cream and I opened my legs wide for easy access.

  “Come get it, boys,” I said playfully. “Come eat me.”

  Ethan rush over like a man possessed and started licking me and the sweetness. Clark took a minute to compose himself and then joined in. I rubbed the back of their heads as they ate on and around my pussy. Oh, God. The sensations of the stickiness and their hot tongues were heaven. It added to the flavor by leaking my own juices.

  “Holy shit, that’s so hot,” I moaned. “Oh-God-oh-God-oh-God. Don’t ever let it stop. I love when you eat me. Eat me all. Take me. I’m yours.”

  Here I was a baker, maker of food, making myself into food and being eaten. The irony was what made it so erotic for us. The chefs had also made themselves into food and were eaten. It was the ultimate sacrifice for a chef: to make oneself into food and then to be consumed.

  The guys tore of the rest of their clothes and threw them around the kitchen. They climbed up onto the table with me. We slathered each other with whipped cream so wherever we licked each other, we got a taste of sweetness.

  “Dammit, I’m out of condoms,” said Ethan.

  “I think I have an extra,” said Clark.

  “Oh, I got on the pill,” I said. “It’s fine. I trust you guys. We’re in it for real now.”

  Clark kissed me hard with that revelation and then plunged into my pussy from behind. I took Ethan’s cock, licked off all the whipped cream and then let him fuck my mouth. He held onto the sides of my head as I bounced in between Clark and Ethan’s thrusts. Clarks uncovered cock made the inside of my vagina sing with joy and I rewarded him with a waterfall of my juices and Ethan with moans that were long, vibrating and deep.

  “Mmmmm.” I squealed. “Harder baby. Pound that pussy.”

  “Oh, my God,” said Clark. “This is fantastic. I’m almost ready to cum again. It’s so good.”

  “Aw, I fucked your mouth,” said Ethan. “Suck me. Consume me. I am the maker of food. I am also the food. Oh, yeah.”

  We rubbed ourselves raw on the table and then I switched positions. I could taste my own juices on Clark’s bulging member. Ethan’s cock sailed in and out of my pussy and it was glorious. I never wanted the fucking to end.

  Then Clark gestured that we should stand up. He penetrated my pussy and lifted me up. I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his torso. Then Ethan came up from behind and started fucking my ass. His bare cock penetrating my asshole was a new and welcomed sensation.

  “Oh. Oh-oh-oh.” I cried. “That’s it. Fuck my little asshole.”

  I felt now like I was hovering in the air--- Sticky, sweaty and being fucked in both holes-
-- My boys were giving it to me good. All I could do was moan and squeal and hang on, while I came and came. My juices were running down their legs and I could feel my walls and ass getting a little raw and sensitive.

  “Aw. That’s it. That’s it.” I screamed. “Give it to me. Give me your cream. Fill me up with your cream filling chefs. Fill meeeeee!”

  Their hot loads came. And I could feel them shoot deep into my nether regions. I was barely hanging onto Clark. I was so sweaty and spent. I was being touched in places I never knew could feel. I felt like my internal organs were having an orgasm and I didn’t think I could stand if Clark set me on the floor. He eventually sat me on the edge of the table after Ethan pulled out and we all stood there shaking and experienced many after shocks of orgasms.

  Like all chefs, my next thought was how much work it was going to be to clean up the kitchen. Fortunately, I had the two best chefs around. I knew they wouldn’t leave me hanging. We processed for a bit, got cleaned up in the sink and redressed.

  Next we got out the tough stuff for cleaning. We had to use the special stuff that would leave no DNA behind. Together, we cleaned the table and threw out all the food we had contaminated. We cleaned up all the containers, bowls and spoons we had used. It was no lie to say we had left the kitchen cleaner than we had found it.

  I locked up and took the guys on a tour of the area. They had done some research, but I knew all the local haunts. We ended up in a dive bar called Filly’s that was known for it’s cheap beer and amazingly good fried pickles. None of us could seem to place what was the spice in the batter that made the difference. The owners would not share the secret, not that we blamed them.

  We ended up back at my house. It was small, but cozy. The guys were talking about living together. I wasn’t so sure. I felt that we needed our space and all of us piled into my two bedroom would be a little crowded. For now, it was decided that they get apartments. Ethan was a little disappointed, but Clark was totally down with it. He was sure he could afford an apartment bigger than my house.