Daddy Daddy: MFM Menage Romance

by Demi Donovan

  Parker pulls out of my mouth, letting me scream at the top of my lungs as I come, convulsing and spasming around Sawyer, milking his cock for all it is worth. When he pulls out of me as well, I’m spent, destroyed.

  It’s Sawyer this time who scoops me up in his arms and carries me to the couch in the corner of Parker’s office. Parker takes a seat next to us and for a long time, I just focus on breathing and distilling this moment within me.

  “Thank you, Daddy,” I say, looking at Parker. “And thank you, Daddy,” I say to Sawyer, laying a small kiss on his chin.

  I catch when the two of them look at each other, about as shell-shocked by all of this as I am.

  One thing’s for certain now, though. Nothing’s ever going to be the same.

  Eighteen

  Sawyer

  If you asked me who made the call, who drove or how we actually got to my apartment eventually, I would not be able to tell you. All I know is that an hour after coming in the pussy of eighteen-year-old Cassie, she, Parker and I are sitting around in my living room, nursing glasses of alcohol, and tea for her.

  There’s a silence over us for the first ten minutes or so, even though Cassie’s curled up in the crook of my arm and Parker’s sitting across from me on an armchair that might cost as much as Cassie’s house. I don’t think any of us know exactly what to say to each other.

  Cassie’s been yawning softly since we drove over, she’s about to collapse into a long sleep. I can sense it coming and tighten my hold on her shoulder a bit more. The mug of tea is placed on the small table between Parker and me.

  I didn’t even know I had tea in the apartment, to be honest. I mostly live off of whiskey, take-out food and bad decisions, but she found it in a minute. Maybe the housekeeper kept some in the kitchen…

  I’m obsessing about the damn tea because it’s easier that way. I don’t have to think about the aftermath of what happened in Parker’s office. I don’t have to concentrate on the fact that I was practically salivating when my best friend pumped a virgin girl I may be falling in love with full of his cum and then I eagerly followed after.

  I don’t have to think about what that says about me, or him, or the both of us put together.

  “I think she’s asleep,” Parker says softly, nodding toward Cassie.

  Her breathing’s level now, her disheveled hair falling on her face in loose curls. There’s a soft smile on her lips that’s gorgeous and innocent and makes me feel privileged to be seeing it.

  “I should take her to bed,” I say, moving to scoop her up in my arms.

  When I get up with her in my arms, Parker follows wordlessly. He opens the door to my bedroom for me and peels back the covers so I can slip her under the blanket. I set her down and reach behind her just to unzip the dress so she’d be more comfortable. The thought of undressing her right now feels like I’d be overstepping some boundaries.

  Which, in itself, is ridiculous. I just double-teamed this woman in a glass office with the other man in the room, I think we’re way past being well-mannered and careful with what we say and do around each other, but that’s how it’ll be for now.

  Not exchanging a word, Parker and I slink out of the bedroom and I close the door behind me. As if of one mind, we make our way back to the living room and take our seats. Parker raises his glass to me and we clink them together, sharing the first bit of eye contact we have since putting our clothes on.

  “I think we need to talk about tonight,” Parker says, always the sensible one.

  “You’re probably right,” I agree, taking a deeper gulp of my whiskey and wishing it was stronger.

  “So,” Parker starts, stalling right after.

  I smirk and he shakes his head.

  “Apparently there’s no easy opener for discussing what we just did,” he says with a morose bit of humor.

  I shrug my shoulders, though my noncommittal attitude toward to the talk is starting to annoy me. I know this has to be done. Boundaries need to be set, thoughts need to be voiced. That’s not usually my thing. Parker’s the one with all the social skills. I’ve rarely been faced with the option of even seeing the face of the person I’ve fucked again, and when that happens, I usually just switch hotels.

  With Cassie and Parker, that won’t be an option. Most of all because I don’t want to break whatever it is that we’re building.

  “No wrong answers, then?” I question, drawing a chuckle from Parker.

  It’s been a while since he’s been at my place. In our twenties and early thirties, we spent plenty of time together outside of work, but as the years progressed, more stress was made readily available and maybe both of us stopped dealing with it in the right way. We haven’t shared a drink outside of the office or even had a meal together, let alone talked, in what has to be years.

  Funny that I still consider him my best friend, then.

  “Right. What we did was… I’m not sure how I feel about it on a moral level, but I liked it,” Parker says, looking down at his glass. “And most importantly, she liked it.”

  “She was practically beaming,” I agree, a wistful note in my voice when I think about Cassie.

  Parker notices and throws me a glance, making me clear my voice.

  “I know this is unorthodox, but what I said back there still holds. I don’t want to lose her. I want her to stay and if the options are that she’s not here or she’s here with the two of us, I’ll pick the latter any time.”

  I nod tentatively. I mean, I was expecting to be thoroughly grossed out about seeing the man I’ve known for practically a lifetime claim something that is mine, but I even gave him first dibs on having her sweet, divine pussy. I can rationalize it all I want, telling myself that I’m thicker so it would have been harder for Cassie if I’d fucked her first, but in the back of my mind, I know that isn’t true.

  I swapped places with Parker because he’s the better one of the two of us. He has more self-control, he’d be more careful with her for her first time. And it was fucking hot as hell to watch her cherry being popped that way.

  “I couldn’t imagine a better man to do this with,” I say, listening to the words I’m saying and wondering if it’s really me who’s uttering them.

  Parker seems to be thinking the same thing, looking up sharply in surprise. After a pause, he nods, and we raise our glasses again, calling a tentative truth.

  “To Cassie,” he says.

  “To Cassie.”

  I bottom out the glass and get up. I’m exhausted and we just have a couple of hours before we need to be back in the office. Work doesn’t wait for those in… whatever we are. The beginning stages of love? Some weird polyamorous bullshit?

  I set that thought aside. I know this won’t be the last conflict I’ll have with Parker because as much as we can try to play nice, we’re both who we are at the end of the day. But we can both try to play nice. For Cassie’s sake.

  “I think it’s time to hit the hay,” I mutter through a yawn.

  I can’t wait to get to bed and have Cassie snuggle up to me again.

  “I should be going then,” Parker comments.

  The reluctance is so clear in his voice that even I, emotionally dulled as I think myself to be, catch it.

  “No,” I say, continuing my line of saying stuff that Sawyer Layton in his right mind never would. “It’s a big fucking bed. If we can fit around a desk then we can fit on either side of Cassie. It’s just a few hours. I don’t want to freak her out in the morning, having her think that we’ve had another argument or something.”

  I think it’s the last part that convinces Parker.

  If someone had told me ten days ago that I’d end up sharing the bed with my best friend because neither one of us wanted to let go of a young woman we should have no business lusting after, I would have… Hell, I don’t listen to bullshit like that.

  Nineteen

  Parker

  I’m a man who prides himself in his ability to focus and keep his mind on the ta
sk. Today, I must be a different man, because none of the qualities I know and value in myself seem to be working in my favor.

  Frustrated, I leaf through the stacks of documents I’m supposed to go through, departmental reports for the Tesla brief we’re putting together, one a week for a month to go now. It’s been a few days since our little rendezvous in here with Sawyer and Cassie and every time my mind wonders, I can see her so clearly, sprawled out before me on the desk, begging me to fuck her while my best friend feeds her his cock.

  I can almost feel the jolt of excitement that went through me the first time I saw Sawyer sinking into Cassie, and the way her face twisted in pure pleasure as he stretched her and fucked her mercilessly even as she suckled on my cock. I can see the lust and affection and need in her eyes and it’s making me hard and anxious to go to her, bend her over the desk and fuck her in the middle of the fucking hallway on her desk.

  Or to tell Sawyer to meet me and her somewhere so we can both do her again. I wish the last option wasn’t so prevalent in my mind, but it is. Somehow, after that night, he’s constantly there with me and Cassie in my thoughts, like I’m actually beginning to believe that we’re supposed to share Cassie.

  In my lucid moments, my rational mind kicks in. That’s when my brain tells me that I should end it all and it’s fucking insane and Cameron would kill both Sawyer and I if he knew what we were doing to his babygirl. But I don’t seem to care about that much.

  No. Not much at all.

  After all, Sawyer and I are her Daddies now.

  With that, I slam the folder I was trying to go through shut, sending a couple of internal heating coil schematics flying off the desk. I can’t give a shit about any of that right now. I need something to clear my head again. I need time with Cassie.

  “Come on, we’re going,” I tell her as I march out of my office, taking her by the elbow to rush her along.

  She grabs her purse and skitters along with me, teetering a little on her high heels. She’s been wearing short skirts and casual tops at home, which makes it that much sexier to see her dressed in full-on office wear when we’re at work. We made a pact the day after we slept at Sawyer’s place that Sawyer and I wouldn’t make a move on her and she wouldn’t make a move on either one of us for a couple of days, give us all a bit of time to recuperate and see where our heads are at.

  I think I drew the short stick on that one. Sawyer doesn’t have to see her every day when she’s walking around the house in her cute, skimpy outfits, or when her hair is mussed up from sleep, or when she’s damp from a shower. I’m a man of great patience but even I have a breaking point and I guess this is it.

  “Where are we going?” she asks, looking up at me excitedly.

  “Somewhere special,” I tell her.

  The weather is steadily creeping from spring to summer, made evident by the warm sunshine and the blossoming flowers as we drive out of town. I don’t waste any time, only making a quick run to a gourmet grocery store on the way to get us some supplies. I turn off my phone and as we reach our destination, I’m far more relaxed than I was in the office.

  Cassie’s hand has been on my thigh the whole drive. Demurely, she’s kept physical contact without doing anything to rile me up. It’s that kind of gentle contact that I’ve missed as much as the violent fucking, to be honest.

  “We’re here,” I tell her as we get to a parking lot by a patch of forest that looks like every other patch of forest. “You should probably change your shoes. It’s a bit of a hike.”

  “So I’m assuming having cell reception here isn’t going to be important, huh?” she laughs, coming to me with measured steps on the loose gravel.

  I pop open the trunk and shrug my jacket off. Cassie packed a small bag on my insistence after the night at Sawyer’s, essentials so she’d have something to change into if something ‘unexpected’, like an unplanned threesome, happened again. She finds a pair of flat tennis shoes in there and grabs a cardigan to throw over the crème-colored dress she’s wearing today.

  She goes from business chic to free-spirited in a manner of seconds, her long hair pulled loose from the strict bun she was wearing before.

  “You’re beautiful,” I tell her, moving a blanket and the food I bought into a backpack I kept in the trunk.

  I change out of my Italian leather shoes and into a pair of hiking boots before closing up the car, throwing the bag over my shoulder and taking Cassie’s hand in mine. She has a bit of a blush on her cheeks as she smiles up at me.

  “You’re not too bad yourself,” she tells me with a laugh.

  We step onto the forest trail and within a couple dozen feet, it’s like the forest closes in around us in the best of ways. It’s off a less-used interstate so the roar of car engines dissipates soon enough, replaced by birds singing and the wind whispering in the treetops. I squeeze her hand tighter in mine, loving the fact that she’s here with me.

  “I come here at least once a week,” I tell her, getting a surprised look from her in return. “What, I don’t strike you as a hiker?” I ask with a laugh.

  “Not really,” she responds with a grin.

  It takes more than I’d like to admit to keep from stopping right there and kissing her. But I made a promise so I’m going to try my damndest to keep it. At least a little while longer, anyway.

  “Well, I am. I go off for two to three weeks every year in the summer and just hike through the wilderness. I go somewhere different every time. I think it’s the only thing that really keeps me sane,” I tell her, eager to spill the story to her. It’s a bit of an office mystery, a topic of betting pools that people think I don’t know about. “I think half the office assumes I go off on some sort of a coke binge in Latin America every year. I mean, I’ve been down in South America a couple of times, but it’s for the mountains and lakes, not the coke.”

  “That’s a well-kept secret,” Cassie agrees. “Everyone has to have something that keeps them grounded, I think.”

  “So what keeps you grounded?” I ask, hungry to know more about her.

  Sure, I know the essentials. I know her family, I know what school she went to, I know her background, or at least I can deduce a lot of it. I even know her, in the ways that she’s allowed me to know her, but I don’t really know what goes on inside of her. I’ve gotten hints and I’ve made guesses, all of which lead me to fall harder for her each day, but she’s been surprisingly cagy with telling me about herself.

  “I think it must be my sister,” she says after a moment of thought.

  “Callista,” I nod. “Beautiful name.”

  “That’s her,” Cassie says with a wide, wistful smile. “I miss her. She’s a good kid and I hope she stays that way. Mom’s done everything she could to make sure she and I have the best life that we could. I hope Callista makes better use of it than I did.”

  That smile wavers a little and I let go of her palm to pull her closer, looping my arm around her shoulders. She leans her head against my chest slightly and I kiss the top of her head, loving how tiny she is against me.

  “You haven’t squandered any chances, Cassie. Life’s longer than you think it is at eighteen, there’s plenty left for you to go after. Give it a little bit of time. Even if you did make some wrong choices along the way, all of us do. It’s a part of life.”

  We’re both quiet for a while after that. She nods mutely and I don’t coax her on, partially because I’m too swept up in thoughts of my own past failures. Her father being the most shining example, among many others. If I’d been a better friend, maybe he wouldn’t have decided to take it on himself to ‘save’ us by committing corporate espionage. Maybe I could have saved him from himself after he got out of prison.

  Maybe…

  But then I wouldn’t be here with Cassie. It’s that realization that conflicts me further.

  Luckily, I don’t have time to obsess about it further because the path takes another winding loop and leads us to where I wanted to bring Cassie. It’s a pri
stine, dark blue lake, nestled among the forest. Here, you can almost forget that there’s an outside world to begin with and that’s exactly why we came here.

  It’s only the first lake of a system of several, the hiking paths looping on for miles deeper into the forest, but I can’t get distracted by that. As much as I’d like to throw a bag together, take Cassie by the hand and hide out in the woods for a couple of weeks, I know that’s not an option for us right now.

  But a momentary escape from reality? That definitely is.

  “Wow,” she whispers, her lips curling into a beautiful smile as she looks up at me and then at the lake again. “It’s absolutely gorgeous.”

  “It’s one of my favorite places in the world,” I explain, leading her off the well-trodden path and onto a smaller one that goes around the west bank of the lake. “I found it on my second year of being at MIT. I’m a country boy at heart, after all, so I was itching to go for a hike. Got a suggestion to try this forest and I’ve been coming back ever since.”

  “I would have never thought something so beautiful is nestled so close to something so big and busy,” she says, referring to Boston and the endless hustle and bustle that goes along with it.

  I nod as I pull my backpack off, reaching the spot I wanted to come to. It’s a small grassy knoll overlooking the lake, where the sunshine doesn’t hit you straight on as it filters down through the treetops, but casts a sort of glow on the lake itself. I’ve come here more times than I care to admit, just to sit and think.

  Spreading the blanket, I invite Cassie to come and sit down. She takes her time as I take out the food I bought for our impromptu lunch, a couple of salads, some sandwiches and fresh fruit. She’s admiring the view and I, in turn, get to admire her doing that.