Dr. Single Dad: A Single Doctor and Virgin Romance

by Dark Angel

  It doesn’t take long for that familiar feeling to start growing inside me; my insides tense up, and it seems like electricity is running through my muscles. This time I really have to moan, and so I take the cock out of my mouth and moan, except when I open my mouth, what I do is scream.

  I scream loud and violently and, in a fraction of a second, an orgasm shoots up from my pussy, rages up my spine and explodes inside my skull. Even though my eyes are open, I’m momentarily blind; right now I can’t see or hear anything around me. My brain has devoted all its power to process the two cocks ravaging my pussy and ass and, even so, it isn’t an easy task.

  Every single muscle in my body twitches and spasms in a fast sequence, a seizure of ecstasy taking over me. Pleasure rages inside my body like the perfect storm, thunder and lightning punishing my nerve endings with raw intensity.

  “Oh God…” I breath out, the waves of pleasure receding from me. I don’t know how long I’ve been in that feverish state of ecstasy, but my muscles feel sore; it feels like the orgasm lasted for hours, and that I spent the better part of today coming my brains out.

  I’m trying to catch my breath, my head pressed against Sloane’s chest, when the man in the black mask takes his cock out of my ass. Raising my hips, I let Sloane’s cock pop out of my pussy as well, and then I just roll to the side, sprawling my limbs on the floor. My eyes are closed, and my lungs are working furiously to get the air in. Seriously, how in the world am I still conscious?

  When I open up my eyes, Sloane and the masked men are standing over me, their hard cocks pointing upward like drawn swords. I guess there’s still something I need to do. I take a deep breath and, forcing my muscles to start working again, I kneel on the floor under them.

  I reach for the masked men’s cock with my hands and, just like I did before, I open my mouth and dive into Sloane’s cock. My hands and mouth work at the same pace, stroking and sucking, and I do it so fast that my movements must be nothing but a blur.

  I feel Sloane’s long fingers running through my hair, but this time there’ll be no stopping me. Oh, no, this time we’re going all the way.

  The masked men’s cocks start twitching against the palm of my hands then, and I know that they’re close to the end zone. Their twitches turn into spasms and, a heartbeat later, a river of cum gushes from their cocks onto my naked body. I bathe in their juices as I keep on bobbing my head, driving Sloane to the edge.

  When he curls his fingers on top of my head, I know this is it—the point of no return. This time he doesn’t want to stop as well; he groans and, at exactly the same time, his cock spasms inside of me and gushes his warm semen inside my mouth.

  He fills me up in the blink of an eye, his cum dripping down my chin and heading straight to my chest, where it blends with the cum from the other men. Pulling his cock out of my mouth, I open my mouth and stick my tongue out, showing him the state he left my mouth in.

  He grins at the sight, but he’s still cumming; heavy strands of his juices crisscross all over my face, painting me in white. I throw my head back and grab my breasts, squeezing them as the three cocks in front of me spray what feels like gallons of cum over my skin.

  When they’re finally done, all I want to do is fall back and collapse on the floor, instead, I find myself going up to my feet. I place two fingers under Sloane’s chin and, pulling him into me, give him a long kiss.

  He pushes his tongue into my mouth, stealing all the cum from me, and then he does something that sends a shiver up my spine: he swallows. Smiling at him, I do the same, my skin prickling as his salty seed makes its way down my throat.

  “Oh, fuck, this was…” I start, but I don’t even know any word that could describe how amazing this was. There are some things you really can’t explain; you have to try them out for yourself.

  “Yeah,” Sloane nods, giving me his kind smile and caressing my cheek with the back of his hand.

  I look over Sloane’s shoulder at the two masked men, but they’re already walking to the far end of the stage, heading straight to the service door. They’re job as an extension of Sloane’s mind and body is done.

  The man in the white mask disappears behind the service door, but the other one doesn’t. Instead of walking down the stairs and leaving, he turns on his heels and walks straight to where Sloane and I are standing.

  He just stands there, his smart eyes peering at us from behind the mask. I stare back at him, realizing that these eyes are very, very familiar… And that gigantic cock…

  Sloane and I turn to the man in the mask, but he doesn’t say a word. He just looks at us, grabs his mask and pulls it off slowly.

  My heart almost explodes.

  It’s Drake.

  Sloane

  Motherfucker.

  I was ready to fucking crush him the moment the mask came off. Lucky for him, Austin stepped onto the stage before I could do anything about it.

  “I guess you guys have a lot to talk about,” Austin says, clapping his hands. The lights on the stage go off and darkness swallows us.

  I still can’t believe Drake fucking pulled this off. After his little stunt with the banks, playing around with both my company and Natalie’s, he still has the fucking balls to come here behind a mask and fuck Natalie? Un-fucking-believable. He better have a fucking explanation, or else I think I’ll have to put my fists to use.

  “What the fuck?” I growl, coming up to him with my hands already balled into fists.

  “Not here,” Austin tells us, stepping between Drake and I, his voice soft but leaving no room for doubt: he won’t tolerate a fight on Python’s stage. Out of respect for him, I take one step back, but I never take my eyes off of Drake.

  “Follow me,” Austin continues, handing Natalie a towel. We get inside our clothes as fast as we can, and then follow after Austin as he walks off of the stage through the service door at the back. We take Natalie to a private bathroom and we allow her to shower; then we follow after him as he leads us through a maze of hallways and, finally, upstairs onto a balcony overlooking the stage.

  “Step inside,” he tells us, opening two massive oak doors that lead the way onto a sumptuous office. His office. “Now, we’re going to wait here for Natalie, and then the three of you are going to solve this.”

  “Thank you, Austin,” Drake says, offering Austin his hand; he shakes it, and offers my stepdad a little smile. I should've this seen coming; Austin helped Drake get onto the stage.

  “Austin’s a friend of mine, Sloane, you know that,” Drake tells me as he sees all the rage washing over my face. “He knows about our, uh, situation ... And he let me know that you and Natalie were coming to Python the moment you called him about the stage.”

  “How could you…?” I ask him, rage coursing through my veins. I fucking doubt I’ll be able to restrain myself. I’m spoiling for a fight right now.

  “Calm down, Sloane. I came here because I want to explain exactly what happened.”

  “I’m dying to hear your version then,” I hear Natalie say, and I turn my head toward the door. She’s leaning against the doorway, wearing a clean tight fitting dress, her blonde hair still wet from the shower.

  “Try not to kill yourselves, will ya?” Austin tells us, and then marches out of the office, closing the double doors behind him. Natalie walks toward the middle of the office and, standing by my side, she stares Drake down.

  “Let’s sit,” he says, a serious expression on his face, and then sinks into one of the leather couches in the center of the office.

  “I don’t wanna fucking sit. I wanna hear an apology,” I growl, my fingernails digging into the palm of my hands.

  “Then I apologize,” he says with a weak smile, looking from me to Natalie. Fuck, it pains me to fucking admit it, but he sounds sincere. Still, fuck it; an apology doesn’t solve a fucking thing.

  “You betrayed us,” Natalie whispers, her tone of voice weak. This entire situation hurts her, and that makes me even more fucking angry. “You
betrayed me.”

  “No, I didn’t. I protected you,” he says, talking slowly but with a kind of resolute certainty. Seriously, if he starts spitting out that bullshit Linda said, about how Dirty Lil’ Angels isn’t a reputable company for Natalie, I’m going to fucking knock his lights out.

  “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “Linda knows, Sloane. She knows about us,” he tells me, and I feel a block of ice landing in my stomach. Fuck. “She threatened me that she’d go public, and you know what that would do to us… If this made headlines out of the blue, all of our companies would take a massive hit. Stock would go down, our boards would come after blood, and there’d be no way for Natalie to secure her financing.” His words hang in the air like a bad omen, and I finally relent and sit on the couch in front of him, letting it all sink in.

  “Jesus fuck,” I whisper.

  “Yeah…” he continues, “I had to act fast. But I’m sorry, I really am,” he says, apologizing to both Natalie and I.

  She’s still standing in the middle of the office, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open. Now it’s her hands that are balled into tight fists.

  “No…” she simply says, sitting by my side as if she’s shell shocked. She looks pale and sickly, and there are tears welling up in her eyes. “I can’t believe she’d go this far…” she mutters, a sob making her convulse. Burying her face into her hands, she starts crying, and I feel my heart fucking breaking. “My own mother.”

  “Hey, hey,” Drake whispers, kneeling in front of her. “It’ll be okay.”

  “It’ll be okay, Natalie,” I repeat, peeling her hands off her face and then wrapping my arms around her body. I don’t know how we’re going to solve this fucking mess we’re in, but I can fucking guarantee you that we will; I’ll go to hell and back for this woman.

  “Hey… I’m sorry too,” I tell Drake, turning to him. “I guess I should've trusted you.”

  “You should have,” he says, but his face opens up into a smile. “But that doesn’t matter. What matters is that we’re here. The three of us, together.”

  “That’s right,” I agree, and the three of us fall into a tight embrace. I don’t know why, but I’ve never felt like this before. I don’t even know how to fucking describe it; it’s like my heart has grown lighter and heavier at the same time.

  And then Natalie turns her clear blue eyes to me and… Fuck, she’s the most beautiful woman on Earth, there’s no doubt about it. And Drake and I are the luckiest bastards alive.

  You know, I was fucking pissed about what Drake did, but I have to admit, it wasn’t about the money. The three of us belong together, and when I thought that Drake was abandoning us I just fucking lost it. I tried to mask my sadness with anger, but there’s no mistaking it; what I really felt was sadness, a deep cold feeling that tried to choke out the happiness I felt.

  But now we’re together again and, whatever the world throws at us, we’re going to face it head on.

  “I love you,” I find myself saying, unable to stop the words before they leave my mouth.

  “I love you,” Drake tells Natalie exactly at the same time, our voices blending into one.

  She raises her head, wipes one sole tear with the back of her hand, and then smiles. And fuck me if hers isn’t the brightest smile I’ve ever seen in my life. Leaning toward me, she brushes her smooth lips against mine, and then does the same with Drake.

  “I love you too,” she whispers, the tears giving way to happiness. “I really do.”

  Smiling back, I just wrap my arms around her and pull her close. Drake sits by her side too, and he puts his arms over us.

  We sit there in silence, everything we felt finally out of the shadows.

  Whatever happens next, it’ll be all right.

  Natalie

  One.

  It might sound corny, but I don’t care: Sloane, Drake, and I have become one. Unity, that’s the right word for us. Sure, ours isn’t exactly a normal relationship, but who cares? It makes us happy. The whole world might judge us, but it’s not like I’ve ever let society dictate my next move. I am, after all, the proud owner of a sex toy company. And, besides, it’s just perfect with them.

  Since that night at Python, when we came clean about our true feelings, we progressed from just fucking to actually having a relationship. Which, if you think about it, is totally weird. Not weird because we’re three people in a relationship, but weird because the three of us were never known as ‘relationship people’.

  Drake has already been married twice, Sloane always dreaded the world ‘commitment’, and I never really bothered with boyfriends. One and done, that was the way I lead my life.

  But this feels right, you know? More than right, actually. With them, I feel exactly the same thing I felt when I quit my job in finance and started my own company: the feeling that the planets are aligned, and that the future couldn’t be brighter.

  Seven.

  We’ve gone on seven dates now. And when I say dates, I mean proper dates. We spend most of our time indoors, too busy having fun with our bodies, but it feels good to get out of the house from time to time.

  Dinner, movies, and a walk in Central Park. Simple stuff, sure, but at the same it just makes so fucking happy.

  We’ve tried to keep our cards close to our chests, though. I could feel my mother lurking in the shadows, ready to come out swinging, and I thought it would be better if we didn’t offer her a clear target.

  In the end, though, it didn’t matter.

  Two days.

  That was how long it took Drake to get his board to come around and remove the hold they had on the banks from lending money. He had to fight for it, and I bet that was because my mom was making the rounds, enlisting people on his board to her cause.

  Two more days and Sloane managed to get the green light from the banks. A lending order was signed, and we drafted an agreement that’ll allow me to finish my prototype and launch it into the market.

  And that’s happening pretty soon.

  Four.

  Four knocks at my door, and I knew it was my mom.

  Most people only knock three times, but my mom always had this quirky habit of knocking at the door four times. Just like that: knock, knock, pause, knock, knock.

  It was a Sunday afternoon and the three of us were lying in bed, sweat glistening on our bodies. We were breathing hard, still exhausted from the sex marathon we’ve just finished, when I heard those knocks.

  I sat up on the bed fast, looking alarmed, and Sloane and Drake exchanged a knowing glance. We all got out of bed together, threw some clothes on, and marched straight to the door, both men flanking me as I reached for the handle. The door swung open and there she was. The Queen of Ice herself, my mother.

  “I see you’ve been busy, Natalie,” my mom said, looking from Sloane to Drake, her eyes roaming over their shirtless bodies.

  “You’re not welcome here anymore,” I told her, hell bent on severing all my ties to her.

  “I figured you’d say that. The three of you … you fucked me over,” she whispered then, and my eyes widened with shock. I don’t think I’ve ever heard my mom curse. Sure, she might be the devil incarnate, but she always kept her composure. It’s a matter of appearances. “I’m here to give you one last chance,” she continued, the creases around her eyes becoming more pronounced. There was an expression of pure hatred on her face, and my heart broke a little; my mother could be someone really special, but she decided to be this vain and hurtful creature.

  “Fuck off, Linda,” Drake simply said, and slammed the door shut, leaving her outside in the hallway.

  “Fuck her,” Sloane agreed, and that was it. I waited a few seconds for her to knock on my door again, but that never came.

  Her reaction came the following day.

  Three hundred.

  That’s how many words it took to sling a handful of dirt at me, Sloane, and Drake. It barely qualified as an article, but it got the centerfold p
ages in one of the biggest New York tabloids. From there, the story spread like wildfire.

  The depraved lives of the New York elite, one of these ‘articles’ read, describing the three of us as sex fiends with absolutely no morals whatsoever. In the same breath, though, that article managed to praise my mom. She was the sole island of decency in a scandalous family.

  That was her play. Since we didn’t want to play ball, she’d distance herself from us as much as possible, and that after stepping on our throats, of course.

  Only a few hours have passed since the news broke, and the mess keeps on getting bigger and bigger. I’m sitting on my couch, laptop propped up on my knees, and I’m devouring everything I see around us. And there’s a lot.

  Online articles are popping out left and right, and some of them are so ridiculous they’re almost funny. One of them, for instance, theorizes that the three of us are involved in some kind of sexual cult. Hello? Of course we’re involved in a cult; it’s called the cult of pleasure, and I figure a lot of these so-called journalists would benefit from enrolling in a cult like ours. Maybe I’ll jot down a few names and send them a package full of my toys. Jesus, some people really need to get off.

  “Hey, stop reading that bullshit,” Drake tells me, coming around the couch and lowering the lid of my laptop. “It’s not going to stop anytime soon. Everyone’s in a frenzy over this. You gotta let it go for now.”

  “Fuck this shit,” Sloane says from the other end of the couch, throwing his tablet on top of the coffee table. “There’s no letting it go. We need to fight back. If she wants war, let’s give it to her.”

  Drake looks from me to Sloane, and he sighs heavily. I know that he wanted to avoid a confrontation, but there’s no way around it now. If we let my mom walk away from this, she’s going to drag us, and our companies, through the mud until all that’s left is a bunch of ruins.

  “You’re right…” Drake finally admits, looking out the window at the New York skyline. The sun is setting now, and its orange glow makes Drake’s face look even more rugged and determined. “We have to fight back.”