Sugar Daddies

by Jade West

  “Good girl,” he said, and his hands were under my ass, hitching me up and down. He filled me up, thumped deep, and I leveraged myself, gripping hold and working that gorgeous dick, wanting it deeper and rougher and harder.

  I was getting used to this, used to two, used to taking it and wanting more more, always more.

  I felt Rick at my back, his chest against my skin. I cried out as wet fingers pushed their way inside my asshole, working in sync with Carl’s thrusts. I groaned as he opened me wider, leaning back to rest my head on his shoulder. “More,” I said. “Fuck me.”

  He pulled out his fingers and rubbed his cock between my ass cheeks, and I readied myself, took a deep breath.

  I let out a groan as he pushed inside. It took a few slow thrusts, Carl slowing to a standstill to let Rick work his way in. I hitched down on Rick carefully, so carefully, gritting my teeth as I went, groaning as he pushed past the tightness. He pressed his lips to my ear.

  “I’m in,” he said. “We’re both fucking in.”

  “I know,” I hissed. “I can feel you. It’s deep. It aches. It really fucking aches.”

  “Want to stop?” he asked, but I shook my head, consumed by the joy of having these guys as mine.

  They were mine. They were really mine.

  “Don’t stop,” I said. “I never want you to stop.”

  Slowly we moved, slowly they fucked me, alternating strokes, one in one out, until I loosened, until I stretched enough to squirm, wanting more. They changed their timing, matching thrusts, grunting as one and fucking me deep, two big dicks inside me.

  “Fuck,” Rick said. He kissed Carl’s mouth over my shoulder. “I can feel you,” he said. “Your cock feels so fucking good, Carl. So fucking good.”

  I could feel them thrusting, could feel Rick’s piercings as he pressed tight against Carl’s cock.

  “Harder,” I said. “Fuck me harder!”

  They fucked me harder. They fucked me rough. Slamming into my holes as they grunted and jerked and worked me into a quivering mess.

  Carl braced himself against the wall, and Rick slammed in, and it really hurt, but it was a perfect hurt. I could feel the pressure in my belly building, nerves tense and achy, the need for release backing up in me. It was coming. I was coming.

  I let out quick moans, levered myself up and down, over and over until the guys started grunting, their balls slapping wetly together. And it was fucking heaven.

  “Fuck,” Carl said. “You’re so fucking tight, Katie, perfectly fucking tight.”

  “Gonna come,” Rick groaned. “Need to fucking come.”

  “Do it,” I hissed. “I want to feel you.”

  I was crying out as they came, lost to the pleasure as they jerked and grunted and dumped their loads inside me. I stilled, my arms around Carl’s shoulders, catching my breath as they caught theirs.

  I let out a groan as Rick pulled out, and my ass felt empty and sore. He pulled my ass cheeks apart and self-consciousness ate me up.

  “Fuck,” he said. “That’s fucking beautiful.” He pushed his fingers inside and they went in so easily.

  I groaned again as Carl lifted me from his dick. He kissed my lips, then lowered me, and my legs felt weak and bandy as I took my own weight.

  He reached another bottle from the rack, and he smiled.

  “Body wash this time,” he said, and lathered me up.

  It felt like bliss.

  One hot shower, two hot guys. I soaped them, and they soaped me, and then they soaped each other for good measure. I giggled as they washed my hair, too many suds, far too close to my eyes, but it didn’t matter. None of it mattered.

  Finally, they held me, and held each other, and I breathed in the comfort of the moment. Three bodies skin to skin, breath to breath.

  I loved these guys.

  I loved this place.

  I was home.

  I sipped my cocktail, peering out of our booth at the empty dancefloor.

  “Dance?” Rick asked. “Just say the word and we’ll hit the floor.”

  I shook my head. “Later.”

  Carl pressed closer to my side. “Whenever you want. It’s your celebration.” He clinked my glass. “To Katie’s excellent success.”

  “To Katie acing the fuck out of sales,” Rick added, and clinked my glass, too.

  I smiled, happy, bopping my head to the beat of the music. They’d picked a good spot, close enough to boogie, far enough to talk. And I wanted to talk.

  I guess it was the alcohol making me brave.

  “How would it work?” I said. “The… the baby thing.”

  The guys looked at each other for a long moment before Carl answered my question with another question.

  “You really want to talk about this now?”

  I nodded. “I just want to know. So I can think properly.”

  He smiled. “Whatever works. No pressure, Katie. If this isn’t for you, it isn’t for you.”

  But it was for me. They were for me.

  I looked at the people in the club with us, the couples going about their business, having a good time. I looked at the group of women at the bar, laughing and joking, casting glances in our direction. And that’s when it hit me.

  If I wasn’t the one for them, they’d need to find someone else. They’d need to find someone who could give them what they wanted. Give them a family.

  I thought about it being one of those women, the women flashing glances our way, wondering which guy was mine and which was free game. I thought about another woman having Carl’s baby, Rick’s baby, bringing up a family with these two amazing men at their side.

  And it made me feel sick as a fucking dog.

  I didn’t want someone else to have their baby. I didn’t want someone else taking my place in their life.

  I took another sip of cocktail.

  Drunk. I was drunk.

  “So,” I said. “Tell me. How would it work? You must have plans.”

  Rick cleared his throat. “We, um… we’ve given it some thought.”

  “A lot of thought,” Carl added. “We come together or not at all, that’s the rule.”

  “I know,” I said. “I get it.”

  “But you don’t,” Carl said. “We wouldn’t want to know, not for certain.”

  I raised my eyebrows.

  “Who the father was,” he continued. “The biological father. We’d rather not know.”

  Rick leaned over, took my hand. “We’ll love a baby the same either way, it doesn’t matter. Why complicate it by knowing?”

  I looked from one to the other. “So, you just… share… and then don’t know whose baby it is?”

  “Exactly,” Carl said. “That feels right to us.”

  “And then we’d live together? Bring it up?”

  We. I said we.

  Rick nodded. “I only work part time, it makes life a bit easier.”

  “And how would you explain it to the baby? Daddy one and Daddy two?” The thought made me laugh and it shouldn’t. “Sorry,” I said. “This is just surreal.”

  “It’s alright,” Carl said. “And we don’t know yet. We don’t know what the baby would know us as.”

  “Daddy Rick and Daddy Carl,” Rick said. “I like that.” He smirked at Carl across the table. “I really like Daddy Carl, it suits you.”

  “You can stop that train of thought,” Carl said, but he was smiling.

  “And what about school? What about general life?” I continued.

  Carl shrugged. “There are plenty of poly relationships out there. We’ll be honest with people, honest with our child, make sure they know how much they’re loved. Believe me, Katie, it could be a lot worse.”

  “I know it could be a lot worse, I’m just… won’t they have trouble? I mean kids can be so cruel…”

  Rick cleared his throat again, and his eyes were serious. “Kids are cruel to anyone who’s different. I had my fair amount of crap growing up. I mean, I’m bi, always have been, and some kids
didn’t like that. But you know what? It didn’t bother me, not really. I had a great family back at home, who taught me I was worth much more than some cheap bullying. I had confidence and self-esteem and I was happy in my own skin. Words bounced off me. I know they don’t bounce off everyone, and I know it might not be as easy for our kid as it was for me, but in general terms, we’ll do our best, we’ll love them hard, and I think we’ll be alright. That’s my gut instinct on it.”

  “There are worse things,” Carl added. “Much worse things. We’ll love them, and we’ll make sure they’re confident enough to make their own path, whatever that may bring.”

  I leaned back in my seat. “Them? How many children do you want?”

  The guys looked at each other.

  “Sorry?” Carl said.

  “You said, we’ll love them.”

  “Ah.”

  “So, how many?” I repeated. “I mean, this isn’t going to stop at one, right? You’ll want more?”

  Carl’s eyes widened. “We haven’t really thought that far. We daren’t even hope…” He sighed. “We thought about adoption. Should we be lucky enough to have one of our own, maybe we’d adopt as well. Plenty of kids need a home. Don’t I know it.”

  “And biologically?” I prompted. “You’d be happy with just one? How many would you really want?”

  Carl took my hand, and he looked at me, looked through me. “However many you’d be willing to give us, Katie. That’s the truth of it.”

  I laughed, shook my head. “I can’t believe this is happening to me. I can’t believe I’m even talking about having kids. I never wanted kids.”

  “No pressure,” Carl said. “Like we said, it’s your call.”

  I held out my hands, struggled with drunken thoughts. “It’s like asking someone if they want ice cream when they watched their best friend drown in a vat of the stuff.”

  Rick smiled. “Sorry, am I drunk? Does that even actually make sense?”

  “It makes a little sense,” Carl said. “And you are drunk, Rick.”

  “I mean my mum had it shit,” I said. “I watched her struggle, watched her suffer, listened to her cry at night. And that was my fault. Because she had me. And we had nobody else to turn to, nobody else to make it better.” I sighed. “My grandparents live way up north, and they weren’t that great to my mum, to be honest, I think they’d rather not have had her, either.” I finished my cocktail. “So, the bottom line is that I know kids fuck things up, like I fucked things up for my mum. Not intentionally, just because that’s what kids do, they take your whole life and make it about them, that’s what has to happen.”

  “You didn’t fuck things up for your mum,” Rick said. “And it would be different. There’s three of us. Mum, Daddy Rick and Daddy Carl.”

  “Stop it with the Daddy Carl thing,” Carl said. “You’re enjoying that too much, Richard, don’t think I can’t fucking hear it in your tone.”

  “And what if Mum, Daddy Rick and Daddy Carl didn’t work out? What if Mum ended up stuck with all the kids while the Daddies only popped in at weekends? What about Mum’s riding and Samson and stable dreams?”

  “It would work out,” Carl said, and his eyes burned. “We’d make it work out. We’d never walk away from our kids. Never, Katie, not ever. Not in a million years.”

  I sighed. “Then you’d be a better dad than I’ve ever seen.”

  They didn’t speak, and I knew. Yet again the great David Faverley was bamboozling them with his stupid nice guy act.

  It upset me again, the thought of him. That weird unsettled feeling I’d been getting since I’d taken his stupid Harrison Gables bargain.

  I stared at the dancefloor, watching the lights change and dance, letting everything slip away apart from the alcohol in my veins and the beat of the track.

  Rick interrupted my thoughts. He took one hand, squeezed it tight, and Carl took the other. “Enough of the baby talk,” he said. “I think it’s about time we hit the fucking floor.”

  I tried not to think about it too hard, tried not to hope, tried not to make plans that might never happen. We had our beautiful Katie back, in our home, in our arms, in our bed. She’d weathered my fuck-up, stayed the course through the big baby reveal, and we were still going strong. This was as far as we’d ever made it. Our gorgeous, vivacious, infectious girl was still with us, still loving us, and that was enough.

  For now, that was enough.

  Besides, the topic wasn’t up for discussion. One drunken conversation at the side of a club dancefloor, and Katie closed up about the whole subject.

  Babies were very much off the agenda those next few weeks, not so much as a peep about Daddy Rick and Daddy Carl and what the fuck that could mean for the three of us. Babies were off Katie’s radar entirely as far as I could read it, but Verity Faverley was very much on it.

  It wasn’t so much what Katie said, or even what she did, that made me uneasy about the dynamic between those two young women. On the face of it, Katie was happy and gracious, smiling without gloating as she marked up her sales leads on the whiteboard. There was no arrogance in her. She was calm and collected, dedicated without being obsessive. In truth, the girl had it nailed. But I couldn’t shake it. That something. That gut instinct that says there’s trouble brewing in paradise.

  Strangely enough, the animosity that bristled my senses didn’t seem to be coming from Verity’s direction. I’d coach her for long afternoons, as promised during her back office meltdown, and she barely even gave her sister a second glance.

  But of course she wouldn’t. Verity had a much bigger game plan. She was all out to get better, to prove her worth. Her grit had been tested and found lacking, and she’d come back with steel in her gut for round two.

  Verity Faverley fucking nailed round two.

  She soaked in everything, every little piece of advice, every scrap of feedback. She took sales materials home at night, and be all the wiser for it next morning.

  She impressed me in a way I’d have never expected. Brat comes good. Who’d have ever thought it?

  Seemingly not Katie. She refused to acknowledge Verity’s existence, certainly not as a contender. Not on the face of it.

  Katie and Ryan topped the sales leaderboard with ease over the first few weeks. They’d finish up ahead of everyone else without breaking a sweat, every day without fail. Sometimes Katie would take the day, sometimes Ryan, but their relationship was full of easy camaraderie, content in the knowledge that they were the two to watch. They were smashing targets, producing sales leads that were progressing into real opportunities for the field based teams. They were developing a solid pipeline, networking with the right people in the right target organisations. They were good. Really fucking good.

  They made me so proud.

  But so did Verity. Her steely resolve as she learned the trade from the ground up. She wasn’t a firework, one of those bright burners that shoot across the sky. She was a submarine, cruising under the surface, unnoticed until she was in the right position. Then, BAM, one day she hit her zone. She made her calls with confidence, armed with product knowledge that would have put most field reps to shame. She asked the right questions, with a framework to understand the answers. She hit the phone, making those calls steadily, without blips or slumps, and she started bringing those leads in.

  What Verity Faverley lacked in natural communication skills she made up for in effort.

  She crept up through the ranks, a couple of leads at first, the odd one here or there which morphed into a clockwork performance of one a day. Then more. She consumed data, ate through calling records on her quest to hit the top echelons, and one day, as we reached the middle of the telemarketing phase of the internship programme, she was hot on the Katie-Ryan superteam’s tail.

  Once she had their tail, they couldn’t shake her off. However many leads they generated, she was always right there. She’d clock one up on the board for almost every one they did, and once she had the bug it possessed her, c
onsumed her.

  She was in early every morning, picking up the phone to catch those targets unavailable in office hours. She was working through lunch, to the point I’d have to turf her from her seat to make sure the girl was eating properly. She was staying late to listen through her call recordings.

  “She’s doing well, your sister,” I said to Katie in the car one night. “Really well. She’s really put the work in.”

  All I got was a shrug. “Good for her.”

  “Is that really what you think?”

  “I really think I couldn’t care less how the bitch is doing. And she’s not my sister, Carl, she’s made that perfectly clear.”

  I opted to push it. “Have you considered talking to her? Swapping some tips? Verity has her data management sales points nailed right on, she might have some useful info you can use in the big pharma vertical.”

  And that’s when I knew for sure. It was the look in Katie’s eyes when she shot me a glare. It lasted no longer than a second, a momentary slip of her guard that revealed the powerhouse of resentment burning behind the scenes.

  “I’ve got nothing to say to Verity,” she said. “Swapping tips with her really doesn’t interest me. I don’t need her tips, and she sure as fuck won’t want mine.”

  “Don’t be so sure on that,” I said. “She’s a dedicated learner. I’m certain she’d appreciate your guidance.” I looked at her. “After all, you are top of the leaderboard, Katie, you have nothing to prove and everything to give.”

  “I have everything to prove.” Her voice was edgy and raw. “Everything.”

  Her tone made me pull the car over. I indicated into a shopping arcade, parked up in one of the empty spaces.

  “What?” she said. “Why are we stopping?”

  “We’re stopping because I want to say something. Because it’s important.” I turned to face her. “You have nobody doubting you, nobody trying to knock you down, or see you fail. The only person you have to prove anything to is you, Katie.”