by Lana Hartley
But today, this heavy stuff is just proof of how great my night was.
I can’t wait to crash in front of my TV and totally pig out on all this awesome food. After a nap, I’ll go out and pay some bills, and I’ll be worry-free for ages!
Then I can curl up and think about those guys that have just come into my life. I know, I kno; there’s no guarantee that I’ll see any of them again. I can hope, though, and I will definitely be fantasizing about them.
Not just tonight, but for a long time.
When I get to the door, my key doesn’t work. I fumble around for a while, putting down my bags. That’s when I notice the big yellow sign on the door.
Eviction notice.
“Shit!” I exclaim loudly, kicking the door. All I do is kill my toes and hop back, squealing.
“Thought I heard you,” a gruff voice says behind me. I spin around quickly and see Mr. Singer, the landlord.
God, he’s a creepy little dude. Short enough that I can see the dandruff in his combover. Ew.
“Oh, hi, Mr. Singer. Can you tell me what this is about?”
“You know damn well. Maybe you should’ve paid your rent on time. Been out all night again, you little slut? If you spent the night with me every now and then, I wouldn’t have had to kick you out.” He folds his arms across his fat belly, glaring at me.
“Can’t you just give me a bit more time? I have money, here, look.” I grab the bag, but I don’t have time to open it.
“I don’t want your damn pittance now, girl. Did you not just hear me? I told you, pay with your body or nothing. I gave you an extension on your rent, I tried to be nice and giving, and understand your situation. But can you imagine what it’s like for me, watching you go out every single night, staying out, never bothering to glance my way?”
“I was working!”
“Is that what you call it? I don’t carewhat you want to call it, you never did it with me. I watched you go out every night and you don’t come back until the crack of dawn. If you had just once come to me, we wouldn’t be having this talk now.”
“I was trying to work to pay the damn rent!” I feel so frustrated and lost, I know I’m about to cry. I pick up my bags, clutching them to my chest as I walk away.
There’s a bench nearby and I sit down, pulling a few rolls out of the bag.
I eat slowly, trying to enjoy it. I’m fucked. I’m homeless. This cash won’t get me far now.
I’m totally clueless as to what to do.
My heart skips in my chest as I see Mr. Singer coming across the street.
“You didn’t get far.” He looks cross and hopeful at the same time.
“Please go away. I don’t have to talk to you.”
“Wouldn’t you rather eat inside? Get comfortable?”
“That was the plan, yeah.”
“Well, like I told you. Just show me a little affection. I’ll take the notice down and you can have your place back.”
“Affection?” I look at him, puzzled.
“Yeah, baby.” He makes thrusting motions with his hips. “Some good old loving. You know what I mean? You’re a cute girl, Grace. But I’m sure you know that. Come on, just give me a few minutes.”
“A few minutes, huh?” I put my food back in the bag. It’s impossible to maintain an appetite with his scaly, bald head anywhere near me.
“Look!” He puts his hands on his hips, “I think I’m being very generous here, but you won’t even meet me halfway. I don’t want to kick you out.”
“Really.”
“Really! I was just trying to get your attention.”
“So…I can go inside?”
“No. Not until you fuck me.”
I groan, closing my eyes for a few seconds. This is a nightmare, a full on fucking nightmare. My good mood has disappeared so thoroughly I wonder if it ever truly existed.
Why can’t Mr. Singer be hot, like Richard, Daniel and Michael? Being used by them was such a turn on. They could ask me to do anything, and I would totally love it.
A little grin creeps on my face and I get a little shiver of pleasure. How it felt to have their cum all over me? Wow.
I could not have imagined how liberating that would be. I’ve never felt so free. It was like in the space of a few moments, I had become someone else. Not shy, clumsy, screw-up Grace.
Sex queen Grace. Beautiful Grace. Fucking horny awesome Grace.
“Hello?” Mr. Singer waves a hand in my face. “Are you still there?”
“Sadly, yes.” I sigh, coming back to reality. The idea of Mr. Singer’s cum—anywhere—not just on me, literally makes me gag.
Shit. Now I can’t even eat my fancy food!
I’m starting to get really frustrated and sad when a limo pulls up. Mr. Singer looks at it, scowling. Hope is blooming in my chest.
I’m suddenly so excited. I keep telling my poor heart to stop, it’ll only get let down. But I can’t help it.
Something between my legs roars like one really excited kitty. Whoa. Up until a short time ago, I wasn’t even sure I had a sex drive.
But there you have it. One little encounter and now my pussy just won’t shut up. I don’t even know who’s in the damn car, and I’m already getting wet.
The door cracks open. One by one, the faces of Dan, Michael and Richard appear. They all grin at me.
I sit staring for a few seconds. I can’t believe it’s really them.
“Grace?” Michael calls.
Mr. Singer takes a step towards the limo. Richard looks at him sharply. That’s all it takes—one look.
Richard looks savage enough to castrate him with his eyes alone. I feel a painful stab deep between my legs.
Mr. Singer shuffles off quickly. I get up slowly, taking shaking steps towards the limo.
Are they really here for me?
“Grace!” Dan calls. “Get in!”
“Yeah, babe.” Richard holds out a hand. “Get your cute ass in here.”
With a little squeal of excitement, I trot up to the door and throw myself inside.
I might just be the luckiest girl in the world.
10
Grace
I all but collapse onto the plush seat of the limo, breathing a sigh of relief the moment I’m settled.
I don’t know what all three of them are doing here. Hell, I don’t even know how they found out where I live, but the moment my ass settles onto the seat, it’s like a weight has been lifted.
My head relaxes back onto the headrest without my bidding and I don’t bother trying to stop it, nor do I fight to keep my eyelids from fluttering downward. I just let them close; let my body relax into this temporary safe haven.
“Grace?” I hear Michael ask, curiosity plain in his tone.
Begrudgingly I open my eyes, letting them flow casually around the back seat of the limo.
All three of them stare curiously at me, varying degrees of humor plain on their faces.
I know I should be asking questions right about now. I know I should be irritated at this trespass into my personal space.
Any normal person would be, after all.
I’m not though. In fact, for reasons I can’t quite explain, I feel nothing so much as happy. I feel a smile tugging at my lips as I gaze around at the men before me.
“Looks like someone’s happy to see us.” Richard says, his voice deep and gruff as he eyes me.
Just meeting his gaze sends a spark of excitement rushing through my body, makes my heart flutter in my chest.
I realize that I’m acting strangely and try to stop immediately. I sit up straighter on the seat, forcing my face into a look that I hope resembles normalcy.
“I—no—I was just having an issue with my landlord is all. What are you guys doing here?”
Richard speaks first, leaning forward so that his elbows rest on his knees and staring at me with those piercing eyes.
I ignore the strange urge to climb into his lap; to wrap my legs around his hips and truly feel him.
“Well you won’t have to deal with him anymore,” he says. “And as to what we’re doing here—well, we’ve come with an offer of sorts.”
“An offer?” I ask, trying and failing to find the meaning behind the words. “Wait, what you mean I won’t have to deal with him anymore?”
The words, much like the men themselves, have caught me off guard. It takes a moment for them to truly sink in.
“Well,” Michael offers, “he won’t be your landlord anymore, or anyone’s for that matter. My bank is foreclosing on the building. About time too, place looks like it ought to be condemned.”
“Foreclosing? I don’t—”
“Don’t understand,” Richard pitches in.“Yes, we know. Well it has to do with the actual reason we’re here.”
“Which is?” I ask, nervous and excited in equal measure to hear their answer.
Daniel, who up until now has been quiet, decides to take this one.
Leaning forward much like Richard, he locks his eyes tightly to mine. They’re every bit as piercing as Richards, every bit as alluring. I can’t seem to stop my mind from racing as he looks at me, can’t stop the urge to slide onto his lap as well.
What the fuck is going on with me?
“Our offer,” Daniel starts, pulling me from my thoughts, “includes a much nicer place than this, so don’t worry about that.”
“A place?”
“Sure,” he continues. “An apartment. One that doesn’t look a good stiff wind away from collapsing.”
“You’re here to help me find an apartment?” I ask, confusion even heavier now that Daniel has started to talk.
Part of my foggy headedness is definitely because—well—this situation is fucking odd. But even I know better than to think that’s all that’s going on here.
Just like earlier tonight, being in the presence of these three men in muddling my thoughts, confusing me. My body feels off, too sensitive, too real. I can’t seem to pull away from the images that keep pressing into my mind. Fantasies, daydreams, even flashes of earlier in the garden.
I can’t seem to think when I’m around them.
Richard laughs at my confusion, that chiding look from earlier flashing onto his face.
“No.” He chuckles. “We’re not here to help you find an apartment.”
“Well—what then? I don’t understand.”
“We’re here to offer you an apartment,” Michael says simply, moving from his seat to sit beside me.
I can feel his warmth even through the space between us. My fingers itch to reach out and touch him.
“For?” I ask, trying to force the tremble from my voice.
“Well it’s simple,” Richard says. “For you.”
My already foggy mind seems to cloud over entirely at his words.
“M—me?”
He nods plainly, as if he’s just offered me a cup of tea.
“Here’s our proposition,” Daniel says. “You can have a new apartment, a new life. Starting now, you won’t have to want for anything. In exchange, for the summer, you’ll belong to each of us, in turn.”
“Belong to you?”
“In turn.” He repeats, as if that’s the source of my confusion.
I open my mouth to speak, probably just to reiterate the fact that I still don’t understand, but Richard again beats me to my own words.
“I know, you don’t get it. Let me make it simple. For the next three months, you’ll belong to us, one at a time. You’ll do as we say, pleasing us and serving us. When your time with one of us is up, you’ll move on to the next, and the next from there. Understand?”
I do. And I know that right about now is the time that I should be completely livid at the suggestion.
I should yell, rage, defend my own honor.
The thing is though, I’m not angry, I’m not even offended.
As much as I would like to believe myself to be the kind of woman to outright reject them, my heart is jackhammering in my chest at the mere thought.
So I simply nod, silently signaling for Richard to continue.
“At the end of the summer, you’ll choose one of us, just one, and give him your virginity. After that, you’ll belong to him.”
My blood runs hot at his words, my hands shaking slightly.
“You guys want to share me?”
“Only for the summer.” Richard answers, now moving from his own seat to take the free one beside me. “After that, you’ll belong to only one of us. Permanently.”
He reaches out slowly, his eyes twinkling mischievously as he rests a hand on my knee, his thumb circling slowly at the exposes skin.
Even that simple touch has my nerves flaring brilliantly to life.
“So?” Daniel asks
From beside me, I feel Michaels hand claim my other leg, his course palm pushing teasingly at the hem of my dress.
I can’t do this. It’s insane. It’s completely ridiculous.
But as their hands run up the length of my legs, I can’t seem to force myself to say no either.
“Grace?” Michael asks after a long pause.
The words leave my mouth before I even mean them to.
“Okay.”
11
Daniel
The limo pulls to a stop outside of my estate before things can get too heated inside. Considering that Richard and Michael are along for the ride, part of me is grateful.
The rest of me though, is very, very disappointed.
When the three of us sat down to come up with our little offer, it seemed to make perfect sense. A whole summer for Grace to decide without any one of us having to bow out.
Perfect, right?
But watching her now, the way she trembles nervously as she climbs from the limo, her dress hitching up around her thighs, I’m not sure it was such a great compromise after all.
No sex for the entire summer. Not with Grace anyway.
In hindsight, maybe this is more an exercise in masochism than it is a clever proposal.
My cock is already stiffening as I climb out behind her, catching just the barest glimpse of her ass before she manages to get both feet firmly planted on the ground.
“Remember the deal,” Richard chides from behind me as I exit behind her.
“Yes, I know.”
Maybe I’m not keeping my face as blank as I thought, since it sure as hell seems like Richard already knows what I’m thinking.
Or maybe he’s just also thinking it himself.
Either way, I try to pull my mind from the thoughts rushing through it; thoughts of breaking the deal all together, of bending Grace over the nearest object and claiming her for myself.
As appealing as the idea is though, I’m a man of my word.
And, if I’m being honest, the idea of slowly seducing her away from the others seems to hold an appeal all its own.
Breaking the agreement and having her right here and now, well that would be a fun way to kill a few hours.
Dragging it out over the course of several months, getting to see her reject Richard and Michael, and waiting until she begs for it herself though… well, that’s another game entirely.
“This way.” I tell her, pulling ahead up the dimly lit walkway.
The limo sits frustratingly still for a long moment and I’m about to turn around and ask if we’re to have a chaperone when it finally kicks back into motion.
Good.
I lead Grace towards the front door, hearing her mutter occasionally under her breath as her feet catch on random cracks, or maybe just each other.
It’s clear that she’s nervous, wound up, and I can hardly fault her her clumsiness.
In fact, if anything, it’s only turning me on more.
She has the innocence about her, this fragility that seems to draw my notice. That coupled with her apparent willingness; well let’s just say I haven’t been able to stop my cock from throbbing since she collapsed into the limo.
“This is your house?” Grace asks, f
inally piping up as we near the doorway.
“Only when I’m in the Hamptons.”
I turn to find her eyeing the exterior with something resembling awe. It’s the look of a child who’s just seen her first rainbow and my cock twitches harder as I gaze at it.
Definitely that whole innocence thing. I can’t explain exactly why, but right now it’s making me fucking crazy.
I can’t help but smirk as I press the door inward, casually flipping the nearest light switch with one hand as I continue to gauge her expression.
The moment the foyer is lit, her eyes widen dramatically, her lips actually forming into a little “o” of surprise.
She doesn’t even manage to wipe the expression from her face when I start to laugh.
“What?” She asks, managing to look both embarrassed and still surprised at the same time.
“Nothing,” I say through another laugh.“Come in, I’ll give you the tour.”
She walks slowly through the doorway, her steps almost reverent as if she’s walking towards an altar.
“Come on Grace,” I chide, “we don’t have all night.”
She doesn’t respond but I’m happy to see her pace pick up as she walks deeper into the house.
Her eyes scan restlessly around the space, clearly wanting to take in every inch of the luxury spread around the estate.
I’ve gotten so used to my own lavish lifestyle; I sometimes forget how surprising it can be to someone who isn’t used to it.
Not now though.
Watching Grace tiptoe amusedly down the hall is nothing if not a reminder of just how well I’ve been living.
As promised, I give her the grand tour. Starting at the foyer, I guide her down the snaking halls, showing her room after room of the highest quality furnishings and décor that money can buy.
Instead of relaxing or growing used to it, she seems only to become more amazed as we go.
I try to contain my laughter at the sight of her in the guest room. She reaches carefully towards a hand-carved dresser, sliding her finger across the polished and grooved wood as if she’s touching a holy object.
I allow her another minute in the bedroom before hurrying her along.