Sugar Daddies

by Jade West

  She’d never had that. She’d never stuck with a horse for long enough.

  I’d been keeping my money safe towards Jack’s rent, but I clicked onto Horseclub and checked out their cheapest horse trailers. There was one locally for just under a thousand. It would get me there. My rust bucket would tow it just fine, and sure, it wasn’t slick or special, but it would do the job. There was a niggle in me, a niggle that I should be saving and focused, not running away with some stupid quest of pride to get one up on Verity. Like kicking her ass in the office wasn’t going to be enough already.

  But I never spent money, not on me, not really. And I’d never had a trailer before, not one of my own, and I’d use it, definitely, when I had the time again. It was an investment. A useful investment. A sensible investment, even.

  So, I bought it.

  PayPalled the cash without even viewing, and it felt good. It felt really fucking good.

  And then I signed Samson and I up for the Cheltenham Chase.

  It was becoming comfortable so easily with Rick and Carl. I’d fallen into a routine nothing short of heaven, travelling to the office and back with Carl every day, lunching at the bagel joint, then zipping over to Samson with Rick of an evening while Carl spent his hours on extra work shit. We’d eat and laugh, drink sometimes, then shower and fuck and suck and fuck some more until I fell asleep in my spot between two hot bodies in their kickass bed. My spot. Yeah, it was my spot. How fucking sweet.

  I’d almost forgotten our arrangement — the fact that they were paying me for my time — because in truth, it didn’t feel like that. Not anymore. I would have been there anyway. I’d have told them as much, and I considered it, but I still had a dream to pay for, and with Jack up against it and the yard on the line, that three grand a month was money I needed. It didn’t sit easy, but it was the truth, and come the weekend I was conscious that this was my billable time, as per our arrangement.

  It made me feel like shit when I threw on my crappy clothes to go pick up my new trailer, and I aimed to play it down, say I was nipping out for a couple of hours but would be back before they knew it. Only it wasn’t that simple.

  Carl was frying bacon when I stepped into the kitchen, and Rick was pulling a face at the smell, wafting his hands around his nose and fake retching.

  “Firemen don’t eat bacon,” Rick told Carl. “You know why?”

  “Enlighten me,” Carl said.

  “Smells like burning human flesh.”

  Carl turned to face him, spatula in hand. “An advert for cannibalism if ever I heard one. Yum yum fucking yum.” He saw me in the doorway and looked me up and down. “Morning, Miss Horsey. Fuck me, I do love a woman in jodhpurs.”

  “Hey, pretty lady.” Rick smiled. “Carl’s cooking pig. Want some?”

  I took a seat at the island, and Rick leaned in to kiss my neck over and over. Wet sloppy kisses that made giggle, and then he blew a raspberry and I squirmed, poked my tongue out at him.

  It felt so shit to say it, but I said it anyway. “I’ve got to go out. I won’t be long, I promise.”

  Carl turned and stared at me, but he didn’t look pissed off. “Samson?”

  I shrugged. “Kind of. I bought a trailer, need to go pick it up.” I pulled my hair into a pony and fastened it. “Enjoy your breakfast, I’ll be back before you know it.”

  I made to scoot off without fanfare, but Rick grabbed my wrist. “Whoa whoa whoa,” he said. “Not so quick.”

  And I thought it was time for the chat, the one where they reminded me that this was a Saturday and I was on their time, the one where they reminded me that I had a fat wadge of cash in my bank account and two fat cocks to service. But it was just my guilt. Of course it was.

  “Kept that quiet,” Rick said. “Where’s this swanky new trailer of yours?”

  “Hartpury,” I said. “Not far. It’s not exactly swanky…”

  Rick looked at Carl, but Carl wasn’t looking at Rick he was looking at me. “We’ll come,” he said, just like that. Just like it was the most normal thing in the world. “Just eat your bacon first.”

  Carl bleeped the Range as we stepped outside but I shook my head.

  “What?” he said. “I’ve got a tow bar, we can take mine.”

  “But I need to be able to hitch it on mine,” I said. “I’ll need to do it for shows. I can do it.”

  He looked at my shitty car, and back at me. “If you’re sure.”

  “I’m sure.”

  He shrugged. “Alright then.”

  And so Rick and Carl piled into the cruddy Katiemobile. It was funny to see them in there, amongst the grooming kits and the saddle soap and the bits of old tack.

  “The height of luxury,” I laughed, and cranked the old brute into gear. I looked at Carl at my side, and he was dressed too nicely for this, as usual. His shirt was expensive and far too clean, his jeans had never seen mud in their life. And his shoes. His poor posh shoes.

  “Don’t think I can’t see you checking me out,” he said.

  Rick leaned between the seats, and my skin did that lovely little shiver it does when he’s close. “You’re so not dressed for this shit, Carl.” he said. “You’re never dressed for this shit.”

  “Says Mr fucking Outdoors. A bit of time at the stable and you think you’re Farmer bastard Richard.”

  “I’ve ridden,” Rick said, and I saw his grin in the rearview mirror. “It’s getting serious.”

  Carl raised his eyebrows. “You’ve been on a horse?”

  “Samson,” he said. “Katie gave me a lesson.”

  It wasn’t a lesson, but I didn’t butt in. It was hardly more than a donkey ride, a bit of a walk up and down the yard but I didn’t want to piss on his parade.

  “You didn’t say,” Carl said, and I swear I caught a whiff of jealousy. It made Rick laugh.

  “You got your cock out when we walked back through the door. It slipped my mind.”

  “You can have a go, too,” I said. “If you want.”

  But Carl pulled a face. “Horse hates me,” he said. “He’d buck me off, then trample me.”

  “He loves me,” Rick gloated. “He came when I called him yesterday, knows I give him mints.”

  “He’ll do anything for a mint,” I said, but Carl didn’t say another word.

  The trailer was pretty shit, and I knew it. But it was mine. I couldn’t stop smiling.

  Carl gave it a bit of a kick, scoped it out with critical eyes. “This is safe, is it?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, looks sound.”

  Rick opened up the back. “Samson will love this, his own personal chauffeur service.”

  Carl jumped on the floor inside until it clanked and echoed. “You’re sure this is safe?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Yes, it’s safe. It’s rough round the edges not a total bag of shit.”

  “I’ll take your word for it,” he said.

  Rick jabbed him in the side, then grabbed him in a headlock to ruffle his perfect hair. “Don’t knock it, grumpy face. It’s fucking awesome.”

  Carl pushed him off and aimed a foot at his ass, gave him a healthy kick. “I’m not knocking anything, I’m just safety conscious. Better safe than fucking sorry, Rick.”

  It made me laugh. They always made me laugh. “I’m good,” I said. “I’m happy. I’ve wanted one of these forever.”

  “Fine,” Carl said, and held up his hands. “Then I’m very happy for you.”

  I checked the fixtures then fetched my car, reversing it back with bated breath in case I made a tit of myself, but I didn’t. I lined it up just right.

  I waved them aside as I fastened it up, determined to do this shit myself, and I was grinning like a lunatic as we rumbled away with a trailer in tow.

  “You’re a kickass chick, Katie,” Rick said. “She’s kickass, isn’t she, Carl?”

  “I’m impressed,” he said. “Kickass, indeed.”

  It made me feel on top of the world.

  We rocked that trailer up onto t
he yard, and I wanted to show it off to Jack, but he was nowhere to be seen. I hadn’t seen him for days in fact, the van was rarely there. I tried calling him but it rang through to voicemail.

  “It’s Katie,” I said. “Just checking in. Got a trailer, parked it up by the barn. Hope you’re alright. Catch you soon.”

  “Check this out,” Rick said to Carl, and he was off, jogging on past the stable block to the field.

  My heart fluttered as Carl stared back at me, and there was a look in his eyes. A heaviness. A need. “You don’t have to,” I said. “We can head back.”

  But he shook his head. “Let’s go see the furry boy.”

  Rick was up on the gate, waving his arms and yelling Samson’s name. He was funny, Rick. Everything about him was so funny. I climbed up beside him and joined in the call, and the thump of hooves came thundering. Samson pulled to a halt later than usual, and I swear it was just to make Carl nervous. Samson gave him the eyeball and a bit of a snort, and it made me cringe, and maybe smile a little.

  “I told you,” Carl groaned. “He fucking hates me. He’d trample me, I’m telling you. That beast wants my blood.”

  “He wouldn’t!” I giggled. “He’d be fine.”

  But he tossed his head away when Carl tried to pat him, nipping around Rick to root in his pockets instead. Rick had mints, an unfair advantage.

  “You can ride if you want,” Rick said. “We have plenty of time.”

  I was tempted. I looked at Carl and he didn’t seem impatient. “If you want,” he said. “You’re driving anyway, I believe that puts us at your whim, unless we plan on hiking back to Cheltenham.”

  I looked at my furry boy and the urge to leap onto his back and go galloping across the common was strong, but there were other urges, too.

  My tummy was tickling. It felt scratchy and strange and panged a little. Panged with something hard to place, a throb of something that wasn’t entirely sexual. I stared at the two guys in front of me and admired them, their easy manner, their kind eyes. Their patience, both of them. The time they had for me, and Samson, too. Their care.

  Rick had mints in his pocket especially for Samson, and Carl cared enough to check my trailer.

  They cared enough to slum it in my rusty old banger, and trudge through mud to see my baby.

  They cared.

  And so did I.

  The tickly pang warmed and spread right through me, all the way to my toes.

  “Let’s go home,” I said.

  “Home?” Carl said, and looked at Rick, and Rick smiled. They both smiled.

  And I smiled, too.

  “Home,” I said.

  I smelled of horse and hay and I knew it. I nipped for a quick shower while the guys listened to tunes downstairs, and my belly was fluttery and my pussy was hot.

  I chose one of my best dresses and I wore it without a bra. It was flared and floaty and a little bit short. A pale blue halterneck that my nipples poked through without underwear. But that didn’t matter.

  I shaved everywhere and fought the urge to bring myself off. The real deal was waiting just a floor below, hot and horny and so much better.

  I spritzed myself with perfume and brushed my hair and decided against knickers, just because.

  Just because I want them to know I wanted this. Just because I’m so horny I can’t think of anything else.

  Rick had made a light lunch. A big bowl of salad with some fancy dressing. The guys were already plated up at the island and ready to eat, waiting for me.

  Carl stared at my chest, and I knew my nipples were standing proud.

  “Nice dress,” he said.

  I took a seat on the end between them, and Rick leaned over to wrap his arm around my waist. He ran his tongue up my shoulder, and my pussy clenched at the thought of his piercing against my clit. “I could eat you up.” He smirked, and took my hand, placed it between his legs where his jeans were swollen. “I’m starving,” he said. And then he grinned, forked out some salad, crunched on a tomato.

  Carl poured me a wine, and I glugged some back.

  He raised an eyebrow. “Planning on getting a little tipsy?”

  I nodded. “It’s been a long week, maybe just a little.” He topped me back up, then poured Rick a glass and held up his own.

  “To a long, successful week and Katie’s new trailer,” he said. “Cheers.”

  “Amen to that,” Rick said and knocked his back.

  “Amen.” I smiled.

  The tension was so fucking hot it was palpable. It smouldered between the guys, lingering glances as they ate, and I got the feeling they were in mind meld, talking without words and I was the topic. It made me jittery, with nerves and want and the heady thrum of anticipation. I ate a little, and then I drank. The wine was crisp and fruity and it warmed me. The warmth bloomed in my belly, spread between my thighs, and I was clenching them on my stool, shifting in my seat at the thought of what was brewing.

  My heart did a little stutter as Carl put down his cutlery. He patted his mouth with a napkin and it was sexy as fuck. It always was.

  “That was delicious,” he said to Rick.

  “Not as delicious as dessert is gonna be,” Rick said.

  And they stared at me, they both stared at me.

  “Chocolate.” Rick licked his lips. “I’ve been craving chocolate for a while now.”

  Oh. Oh fuck.

  “What do you think, Katie?” Carl asked. “Do you think Rick has been good enough for chocolate?”

  My nerves were in my throat, but my clit was sparking and buzzing and desperate. I nodded.

  Carl took my plate and stacked it on his, and Rick’s eyes were glinting and dirty.

  This side of Rick always took my breath. It would appear unbidden, rise up like a cobra, fast and hypnotic.

  Rick was a dirty boy. Rick was rough, and filthy and absolutely insatiable.

  He turned in his stool and spread his legs, and then he beckoned me, patted the top of the island at his side.

  I slipped down from my stool and went to him, a rabbit in the headlights as Carl cleared away the salad. I shivered as Rick got to his feet. He stepped behind me, the heat of his chest against my back, and then he folded me at the waist, his hands on my shoulders as he pressed me flat to the island.

  He pulled my halterneck loose and tugged it down, and it slipped from my breasts, baring them to the chill of the marble. He hitched my skirt, throwing it up over my hips, and he groaned to discover I was knickerless.

  “That’s our girl,” he growled. “That’s fucking hot.”

  I felt his hands, warm on my ass, and he dropped to his knees and teased my thighs open. I started as his tongue lapped at my slit, digging forward to my clit as it curled. I kept my eyes on Carl, and he was staring right back. I could see the outline of the monster in his jeans, straining to come out.

  My breath was quick and raspy as Rick licked at my slit. I reached out my fingers and gripped the edge of the island, pressing my cheek to the marble as Rick dipped two fingers inside my pussy and twisted. I moaned when he found the spot, and he worked it, hard, so hard I thought I could pee. I doubt he’d have cared.

  And then he stopped. He stopped and left me panting.

  His hands gripped my ass cheeks and spread them wide, and the air was cool, and I was exposed. I felt so fucking exposed.

  I cried out as he licked me there.

  Carl stepped towards me and put his fingers under my chin. He tipped my head up and his eyes were hungry and dark.

  “Look at me,” he said.

  I nodded.

  I felt so bare, my eyes on Carl’s as Rick tongued my asshole. It was squirmy and tickly and absolutely fucking wonderful.

  His fingers worked my clit as his tongue worked its way inside me, and my thighs were quivering so hard Rick shunted me forward so the island took more of my weight. It shunted my face right into Carl’s crotch. My lips pressed against the denim, and I could feel the shaft of him. He hissed under his breath a
nd moved his hips and I nuzzled him.

  I opened my mouth in invitation but kept my eyes on his.

  Rick got to his feet, and reached to the side of me. I turned my head instinctively to see him pick up the olive oil, and my belly clenched.

  Carl turned my face back to him. “Me,” he said. “Keep your eyes on me. I want to see you.”

  “Yes,” I said.

  He smoothed my hair and it felt nice, and so did the drizzle of oil in my ass crack. It tickled, and I gasped.

  Rick’s fingers were warm. They rubbed the oil all over me, all the way round to my clit, and I felt so slick, so slippery.

  I heard his belt opening, and then his zipper, and the soft sound of his palm as he lubed himself up.

  He pushed his thumb inside my ass and I gasped again.

  And then I groaned.

  Loud.

  I fucking loved it.

  I fucking wanted it.

  “Dirty girl,” Carl whispered, and he was smiling.

  I pushed back on Rick’s thumb. “Please,” I said. “More.”

  “Don’t worry.” Rick’s voice was heavy. “You’ll get more, baby. So much more.”

  He gave me more. Two fingers at least, and I sucked in my breath as they slid inside. He circled his knuckles, and I felt myself loosening, stretching, and it was dirty and fucking gorgeous.

  Carl loosened his belt and I groaned.

  “Yes,” I said. “Give it to me…”

  I could only take the head and a bit. It was hard to fit him between my teeth, but I was getting better. I relaxed my jaw and he wrapped his fingers in my hair, held me tight as he thrust in further. He hit the back of my throat and I breathed through the gag reflex.

  He groaned his pleasure.

  “Relax,” he said. “Don’t fucking bite.”

  I wondered what he was referring to, until Rick pulled his fingers from my ass. I felt empty and open, and then I felt the thick head of him, pressing to my open hole.

  Carl kept his cock in my mouth, and I squirmed a little, squeaked around his dick.

  “I’ve been looking forward to this,” Rick groaned, and then he pushed.