by S. E. Law
I let out a harsh bark of laughter that was both appreciative and astonished. What naïve girl does this? What curvy, tempting blonde would allow herself to be debased like this? But Amy wasn’t feeling debased at all. Instead, she merely turned to me and licked her lips again while asking, “Would you like me to lick you too, Raider? I’m sure you taste good back there.”
That’s how I know she’s right for us. This woman is dirty exactly the way we like it, and we’ve done the nasty so many times already that it’s impossible to count. Sometimes Ryan is stuck in me, and then I penetrate Amy. Sometimes, she grinds on both of us before taking us in two of her holes. One very special time, she fit both of us simultaneously into her kitty, moaning with the delicious strain. I’ll never forget it. Our girl limped for weeks afterwards, but it was a good limp.
But now, we need to discuss the details of our arrangement. After all, we’ve never really bandied about how our relationship works, and to be honest, Ryan and I are getting antsy. We want something specific from Amy, but will she be open to the suggestion?
“Sweetheart, you know we’ve enjoyed being with you,” I begin.
She smiles sweetly, tossing that long blonde hair over one shoulder.
“Of course I know,” she hums throatily. “Judging from how your eyes rolled into the back of your head last night, I could tell that you were having a good time.”
I literally harden beneath the table because my little girl took me into her mouth and then did something with her tongue so good that the top of my head practically blew off. She’s learned a lot lately, and I love it.
“Yes, there’s that,” acknowledges Ryan. “I loved it too. But sweetheart, we want to discuss making things a little more permanent.”
Amy smiles devilishly at us, her blue eyes dancing.
“It’s not permanent already?” she asks in an innocent tone.
I frown.
“No, but we’d like it to be.”
She smiles again.
“Ryan, Raider, are you asking me to marry you? That’s what I think of when I think permanent.”
My heart contracts and my pulse starts racing. To tell the truth, I would love to get married to her, but we haven’t even come close to having that discussion yet. But Ryan beats me to it.
“Is that what you want sweetheart?” he asks, taking her small hand in his and clasping it across the table. “You know we’d love to put a ring on your finger.”
Amy laughs merrily, the high notes tinkling through the air.
“No, I’m not ready to get married,” she says in a sassy voice. “I’m a long ways from that blessed event yet. But what are you thinking when you say ‘permanent’?” she asks again, this time more serious. “That word can mean a lot of things to a lot of different people.”
I nod, even though my heart’s just plummeted to the floor because I wasn’t expecting the blonde to reject the idea of marriage. I thought that’s what women wanted. I mean, it’s the whole point of that series, Sex and the City, isn’t it? Didn’t Carrie spend ten years or more trying to marry her boyfriend, Mr. Big? Yet now, I’m faced with a woman who tells me she’s not ready. True, she’s young, but I had no idea Amy was this independent.
Calm down, the voice in my head says. You’re racing ahead without giving her a chance to explain herself. Plus, she’s young. Women in NYC don’t get married until their forties, if they get married at all.
True, but that’s part of the problem because Ryan and I want to have a baby. We’d love to see Amy grow round with our child, which is why we keep talking about “relationships,” “permanence,” and “having the talk.” What makes this ridiculous is that we’re the guys here. We’re supposed to be OTT alpha males, yet I can tell that both Ryan and I are biting our nails, hoping for handouts from this beautiful girl.
“Out with it,” she says merrily while fingering her bagel. “What do you guys mean when you say ‘permanence’?”
Ryan and I share another look.
“Well, you know that Hot Nights NYC is a thing of the past,” I begin.
“Not that we’re out of business or anything,” adds Ryan hastily. “If anything the business is doing great. It’s just that our relationship has gone way beyond the woman hiring a gigolo set-up. You’re more than a client to us, honey.”
Amy lets out a peal of laughter, which has the waiter looking our way suspiciously.
“Of course I am,” she says with another merry smile. “I’ve never paid you guys for your ah … services. Even that first time, my credit card was refunded after our night together,” she says with a devilish grin.
I nod.
“Of course. I made sure of it, and had Charlene reverse the charges. You’re more to us than some random female body, and we hope we mean more to you than some hardbodies made for your pleasure.”
Her eyes go wide with merriment.
“You mean, you and Ryan don’t exist for my pleasure exclusively?” she says. “I thought you were put here on the Earth to exist solely at my leisure.”
My friend snorts.
“Please honey. You understand what I’m saying. It’s just that we want to have the define the relationship talk.”
Amy lets out another peal of laughter, this time causing several of the other diners to turn and look at us.
“Did you really just say “Define the Relationship?”” she giggles.
Ryan looks put out as he pushes that thick black hair off his forehead.
“Yeah,” he growls. “Why?”
Amy giggles again.
“I always forget that you guys are so much older than me. You guys must be Generation X, whereas I’m Generation Y and potentially even a Millennial. Because D-T-R is such an old-school term. It’s something they use on MTV’s Real World with the old cast. New reality TV people never say that.”
Ryan merely rolls his eyes and grins.
“I can’t believe you’re comparing us to reality TV stars,” he drawls.
Amy sits up and smiles.
“Not really,” she coos. “You’re much better looking than any random Instagrammer or TikTok fiend. You’re you. And there are two of you, whom I adore.”
I smile then, my heart pounding. Good. She loves being with both of us. Encouraged, I take her small hand in my own, looking directly into those big blue eyes.
“What Ryan is trying to say,” I say, taking over for my friend, “is that we love being with you, sweetheart. You’re incredibly lush, so responsive, and successful professionally too. I know you just got a raise and a promotion at the pre-school you work at, and we’re awed by your dedication to your profession. It’s just that we have a very special request for you—”
“Is it DV again?” she asks with a knowing smile. “I know you guys like that a lot.”
My staff stiffens again below the table, because the one time we did the Double V, I adored it. I loved seeing her stretched to the max with two poles in her kitty, squealing and straining with the sensation.
“We do love Double V,” I say, sharing another look with Ryan. “In fact, it was your ability to do Double V that prompted this idea. You see, sweetheart, we’re looking to be daddies and we think that you would make a wonderful mommy. For our child. Or even children, plural, if you’re interested.”
For the first time during this conversation, Amy is shocked. She sits back and has nothing to say as her bosom heaves with deep, indrawn breaths.
“Children?” she says in a soft voice. “What do you mean?”
Ryan and I share another look.
“Well, honey, Raider and I are forty-five now,” my friend begins in a low tone. “We’re looking to settle down, and we’ve dated a lot of women along the way. There were some good, some bad, but really, no one came close to the idea of permanence until you came along. Suddenly, it was as if everything came into focus. We knew what we wanted, and you’re it, Amy. We’d love to see you grow round with our child.”
The blonde’s still staring at u
s, her eyes wide.
“But what does that have to do with the Double V?” she says finally, barely getting the words out. “How does that make a difference?”
Ryan and I share another look. I take over, clasping her soft hand in my big one.
“It doesn’t, really. But obviously, a child can only have one father, which means that either Ryan or I will be the father. Not both, and that’s where Double V comes in handy. We’d like to spurt in you simultaneously, and let fate do its work. Whichever one of us impregnates you will be the father,” I say simply.
She gapes at us again.
“But both of you have come in me multiple times,” she says in a low, trembling voice. “I mean, you take turns using my holes, and there’s so much seed all over the place all the time. And you know we don’t use protection.”
I shake my head.
“We don’t, and thank you for that sweetheart. We appreciate the fact that you’re willing to go bareback with us because we never use rubbers with each other. It would be strange to put it on to penetrate you, but not to penetrate him.”
She nods.
“Yes, I know. I don’t like the feel of plastic between us either, but still. No protection means a baby, and I guess you’re telling me that you’re ready.”
I nod.
“We’ve been ready since the day we met you. We always knew you’d get pregnant Amy, because you’re a healthy young woman and without contraception, it’s bound to happen. In fact, I’m surprised it hasn’t happened yet because you’re undoubtedly very fertile with those lush curves. But sweetheart, that’s why we need to have this talk. We want to put in words what we’re looking for, and make sure you’re on board.”
Amy flushes again, biting her lip.
“I guess …”
Ryan and I look at her. The little Cupid on the wall seems to smirk a bit, and I wish I could smack its face, or at least make it look away from our private conversation.
“What do you think, honey?” I ask in what I hope is a low, calm voice. In reality, my heart’s pounding at a million miles an hour and my mouth is dry. We badly want Amy to be the mother of our children, but what if she says no? How will we find another woman just as sweet and just as desirable?
But then the blonde smiles and grips both of our hands.
“I’d love to,” she says, and it’s as if the clouds have parted and light is streaming onto our little table here at the diner. After all, this woman was made for us, and giving her a baby will be the best thing we ever do.
99
Amy
Raider and Ryan look so happy that my heart overflows. The two men let go of my hands and take a deep breath before sitting back in the small booth. I almost laugh because they’re huge, imposing, and very attractive. Women in the restaurant have been casting them lustful glances since the moment the alpha males set foot inside, but they’ve been so focused on me that they don’t notice.
After all, the two men make me feel wanted. Desirable. Incredibly attractive, and yes, oh so fertile. What woman wouldn’t feel fertile around them? They spray me with seed day and night, pumping me full of the good stuff. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if I’m pregnant already.
And in the back of my head, I’ve always known that without contraception, I’m taking a risk. After all, these two gorgeous, OTT alpha males are virile. Everything about them pulses energy, from their long, hot poles to the gallons of jizz they emit with each release.
But am I ready to become a mommy? My heart says yes, but my brain insists on getting a few details cleared up first.
“Ryan, Raider,” I say slowly. “I’d love to be your baby mama but I need to figure out a few things first.”
“Of course,” growls Raider quickly. “Whatever you need, we’re on it. You can move into our penthouse, and we’ll outfit one of the bedrooms as a nursery. We can get you a night nurse so you won’t have to get up to breastfeed, and we’ll start the baby’s college fund now. I can call my banker to get it all set up. Whatever you need, honey.”
I laugh, even as heat fills my breast.
“Whoa, whoa,” I say in a soft voice while taking their hands in mine again. “No need to get a night nurse because I think I’d enjoy breastfeeding. Imagine that: a baby drinking mother’s milk. I have a feeling I’ll be overflowing with milk, and I’d love to provide the nutrition.”
Both men’s eyes involuntarily go to my bosom, and I can tell they’re imagining the sight of my creaminess leaking with tasty vitamin D. But they’re not envisioning a baby there. They’re thinking of trying my milk themselves, and letting the white fluid stream down their throats.
“Of course,” rasps Ryan, lifting his gaze to mine. As usual, those blue eyes are hot and hungry already. “Whatever you want. We’ll take it one step at a time, Amy.”
I nod, smiling again.
“Well, it’s just that it seems you’ve wanted to be daddies for a while now, so I guess I have a few questions. You are forty-five, after all. Why didn’t you find a surrogate? Wouldn’t that be easier? Surrogates are expensive, but I know you can afford one.”
The men share a glance and then take a deep breath.
“You’re right. We have wanted to be fathers for a long time now. More than twenty years in fact,” says Ryan. “Some guys are just ready for the responsibility faster, and Raider and I have wanted a child for years.”
I look at them with a nonplussed expression.
“But you started Hot Nights NYC twenty years ago, right?” I ask slowly. “Weren’t you busy getting the business up and off the ground?”
“We were,” acknowledges Raider. “But we’ve always been family oriented, and Hot Nights was kind of like a family to us. Some of our employees have been with us for more than a decade now, and we treat them like family.”
I nod and giggle.
“I know. Charlene loves you.”
The two men laugh too because I finally met Charlene just a few weeks ago, and she doesn’t sound like her voice at all. Whereas her telephone persona comes off as sultry and seductive, in real life, Charlene is a grandma of seventy with gray hair and bifocals. She shook my hand cheerily while welcoming me into the fold.
But then Ryan and Raider seize my gaze again.
“Hot Nights has been an incredible experience for us, and we’re proud of the business we’ve built,” rumbles Raider. “But it only emphasized how much we want a real family. A woman to call our own. A child. More children, if you’re willing.”
I nod.
“Of course I can understand. Being a mother is one of my dreams too. But back to my original question: why didn’t you use a surrogate if you’ve wanted a baby for so long? It can be pretty easy actually, almost like ordering take-out. Plus, you could even get two embryos made, one for each of you.”
The men share another glance.
“It’s not like ordering take-out, sweetheart. Not even close. But let me ask you this question: where would we get the eggs?” says Raider rhetorically.
That stops me for a moment.
“An egg donor?”
Raider nods.
“Yes, that could be a solution. But honey, we don’t want to pick a donor out from a binder. We don’t want to read forty pages about her height, weight, hobbies and medical background. That’s no way to go about selecting a mother for our child. Besides, did you hear about the scandal at MedicalMiracles out in Jersey last month? It wasn’t about eggs, it was for donor sperm. A bunch of women have brought a lawsuit against MedicalMiracles because one of the donors who fathered a lot of children actually has autism and completely faked his biographical information. The women say they never would have selected him, if they had known his true nature.”
I gasp.
“Oh my gosh, the fertility clinic didn’t do any due diligence? Are the kids okay?”
The men look serious and nod.
“They’re okay, except quite a few of them are special needs. There’s nothing wrong with special nee
ds children, but I don’t think any of the women sought that out when they were selecting a donor.”
I nod, murmuring.
“Of course not. I’m so sorry this happened.”
They share another look and take a deep breath.
“I know, sweetheart. We’re sorry too, and it’s a risk that we don’t want to take,” adds Ryan. “There’s too much fraud out there, and the entire fertility industry is in its infancy. There aren’t enough controls, and there’s no recourse if something goes wrong either. That’s why we wanted to meet a real woman, curvy and fertile. But therein lies the problem. What real woman would take us?”
I almost laugh out loud, staring at their handsome faces with the blazing blue eyes and chiseled features.
“I think any woman would take you guys,” I say softly. “You’re both gorgeous, and you’re successful and rich too. Who wouldn’t want to date you?”
Raider and Ryan smile at me fondly.
“That’s because you’re in love with us,” Raider growls. “But believe it or not, not a lot of women want to date guys who are in our line of business. Especially if we personally handle house-calls every now and then.”
“But you’ve stopped,” I say quickly.
“We’ve stopped,” confirms Ryan. “Ever since meeting you, we’ve put a stop to the whole thing, and in fact, we weren’t with anyone through the service for years before you came along, Amy. But that’s the thing. A lot of women get squeamish when they learn about our profession, and that’s an unworkable situation for us.”
I shake my head.
“It’s just a business. It’s not like you guys are torturing prisoners in Abu Ghraib.”
“That we’re not,” acknowledges Raider in a growl. “But the way some women look at it, we might as well be.”
“Which is why we consider ourselves lucky to have met you,” adds Ryder, turning to pin me with those intense blue eyes again. “We adore you Amy, and if you’d have our babies, we’d be so grateful. You, curvy and round, heavy with our child? It’s a dream come true.”
I smile at them again, this time a bit tearily.