by Helena Ray
“Fuck her, Bry,” Alexander said, lowering his hand and pushing apart her nether lips. “She’s wet as can be.”
Alexander dismounted the table and began stripping out of his suit while Bryant lowered Robin onto her stomach and raised her hips so that she rested on her knees, offering her ass to him. Bryant leaned over her back, and she felt his full lips brush against her ear.
“You sure about this?”
“Completely,” she whispered.
“I never want to hurt you, baby.”
As Alexander climbed back onto the table, Bryant began to push into Robin’s tight hole. She squeezed her eyes shut, a burning sensation overtaking her entire body. Fingers had been one thing, but Bryant’s wide cock was quite another.
“Breathe, Robin,” Alexander said, rubbing a hand against the small of her back. “The pain doesn’t last long, I promise.”
She gritted her teeth against the pain and felt sweat dripping down her neck. Bryant finally pushed through the tight ring of muscles, and instantly, the pain melted into pure pleasure.
“You okay?” Robin heard Bryant ask. Okay? That didn’t even begin to describe it. She felt so decadent, so naughty, and all she wanted was for him to fuck her into oblivion.
“Yes, damn it,” she managed to choke out between pants. “Now what did you say about fucking me?”
Bryant must have taken that as permission and withdrew his cock and pushed it back in, eliciting a moan from Robin. He repeated the action a few times, and then he wrapped an arm around her breasts and pulled her to lie side by side next to him.
Alexander grabbed each of her ankles and spread her wide open, displaying her dripping cunt. She looked down at his perfect cock, impossibly long and hard against the flat planes of his stomach. A droplet of pre-cum shimmered on his head, and she longed to have that large instrument of ecstasy buried completely inside of her. Bryant pushed up into her, causing a fresh flood of juices to flow from her as Alexander watched.
He moved across the table toward her, positioning himself between her legs and rubbing just the head of his cock against her awaiting pussy. He looked over her shoulder to Bryant. “How does she feel, Bry?”
“So fucking tight,” Bryant managed from behind gritted teeth. “Now get your cock in her so I can move and fucking come.”
Alexander’s characteristic haughty laugh escaped from his lips, but the look of pure adoration he gave Robin came from that sensitive spot inside him that she had fallen for.
He pushed forward, groaning as she clenched her muscles around him. He stopped for just a moment, and Robin was grateful for the opportunity to adjust to the sensation of being filled by two large cocks. They both pressed forward a little more, and she moaned at the feeling. Never would she be happy with just one cock again, she thought to herself. This was pure sexual heaven.
They both began moving, slow at first, but Robin’s violent bucking must have pushed both closer to the edge, since they both moved with abandon. The feeling of a cock in her ass made the cock in her pussy feel tighter and hotter.
As they both pushed in and out of her in an alternating rhythm, she felt the beginnings of an oncoming orgasm. Her spasms must have affected Bryant as well. His pace escalated, and his breathing became ragged.
With an “oh, fuck” escaping from his lips, she felt Bryant’s hot seed fill the chasm of her ass. Feeling him pump through his orgasm, Robin’s pussy clenched, and her orgasm hit her like a ton of bricks. It floored her, overwhelming her with more pleasure than she’d ever dared to imagine. Just as she rode the last waves of her pleasure, Alexander pumped his cock into her harder, jabbing against her G-spot with each thrust. Between that and the feeling of Bryant’s cock still in her ass, another orgasm overtook Robin, and she screamed her pleasure.
At the same time, Alexander found his release and pumped hot jets of semen into her awaiting pussy. Once the thrusts and gasps of Alexander’s release had subsided, the three of them relaxed into the cool wood of the table. Bryant kissed the back of Robin’s neck, and she pressed back against him. Alexander ran a hand up and down her side, and he stopped to admire her carefully chosen lingerie.
“So I take it you’d be amenable to attending the Cotillion with us.”
Robin’s heart did a back flip, and she kissed the tip of Alexander’s nose then turned to kiss Bryant on what she could reach of his cheek. “Of course I will. I even have a dress.”
Robin longed to pull both men into her own embrace, but a quick wiggle reminded her that still wasn’t possible. “Um, guys?” She desperately didn’t want to interrupt their afterglow, but as the last embers of her flaming passion finally died down, reality reared its ugly head.
“Yeah, honey?” Bryant slurred against her ear.
She wiggled her wrists, accidentally causing him to withdraw from her with a slight pop. Her body felt suddenly empty. After feeling Bryant and Alexander filling her completely, she knew she could never go back to anything else. Pure ecstasy awaited her here.
A dark chuckle came from Alexander as he pulled out from Robin. He looked over her shoulder at Bryant. “I think our lady friend wants free use of all her appendages.”
All three burst into laughter at Alexander’s statement, and Bryant freed Robin from the tablecloth knotted around her wrists.
“And, um...” Robin knew she must be quite a deep shade of red at the moment. “Our food?” She sat up and looked back and forth between the two gorgeous men on either side of her just waiting to fulfill her every need and desire. “The two of you have given me quite an appetite.”
Alexander also sat up. “From what I’ve seen, Robin, your appetite is relatively insatiable.”
“Told you she needs two of us,” Bryant said from where he lay on the table, hands folded behind his head. “Enough is never enough for this one.”
Robin began to lean in toward Alexander, prepared to indulge in another round of lovemaking, when her stomach grumbled to remind her of the real purpose of this excursion.
Alexander heard her stomach’s protestations. “Bry, I think her appetite might really be sated for the moment.” He placed a hand on Robin’s stomach. “If she doesn’t receive her regular feedings, we won’t ever get off.” He cast a wicked smile at her as she frowned in mocking disapproval of his sarcasm. “Don’t worry, gorgeous. I told them to prepare something for about an hour after we arrived.”
“Oh, so the food should be—” Realization dawned on Robin. “Wait a minute. You two planned this?” She shot a look at Bryant.
“Told you we had another surprise for you, darlin’.”
Robin wiggled her ass and launched herself off the edge of the table. She attempted to stand, but her limbs were still jelly from their romp. She tripped, ruining the effect of her indignation.
Her two men laughed at her misstep, and Bryant joined her in crawling from the table. “Honey, you really can’t be too mad at us for making you come like that.”
“Yes, I can!” Their presumptuousness infuriated her, and her hands balled at her sides.
“Robin, really,” Alexander purred as he moved toward the edge of the table. “Are you angry with us for making you happy? You seemed pretty damn effusive just a few seconds ago.”
He leaned his head toward Robin’s for a kiss. At first, she backed away from his advances, but Bryant placed a hand on the small of her back and pressed her forward. She met Alexander’s kiss as Bryant embraced her from behind. The kiss was slow and romantic, with only nibbles of teeth and flicks of the tongue. Bryant worked on her neck, laving at her collarbone from behind and sending shivers of mounting desire down Robin’s spine.
Alexander lifted his face and smiled. “So this dispute is settled now, right?”
Robin leaned back against Bryant, her voice becoming a moan as he continued his ministrations. “You guys win this time.” Bryant bit down, and a gasp escaped from Robin’s lips. “But not always, okay?”
Alexander smiled at her as Bryant released her,
and she let out a sigh of disapproval. “Okay, beautiful. Now.” He clapped his hand and jumped off the table to grab his clothing. “You’ve never sampled the fine cuisine here at Hester’s. I took the liberty of ordering you the filet mignon smothered in Hester’s famously divine sauce. Is that okay?”
Just hearing Alexander’s description of her meal made her mouth start to water. “Anything you say.” She poked him, interrupting his dressing and earning her a warning look. “After all, you are the personification of European sophistication, are you not?”
Bryant let out a snort as he buttoned up his shirt. “God, that’s great whenever people say that. You read the stuff people spout about Al?”
Alexander picked Robin’s dress up from where it had been discarded and handed it to her. “Can we not talk about the perception people have of my various exploits?”
“Oh my god, like on Emilio Estefan’s blog, Allegedly.com?” Robin slapped a hand over her mouth, embarrassed to have revealed her guilty pleasure to the men.
Bryant howled in laughter, throwing his head back. “Oh, Robin, darlin’, you have no idea how much Al hates that Emilio Estefan.”
Alexander rubbed his temples and turned his darkest stare on Bryant and Robin. “Please, for the love of all that is good, drop it.”
Robin stifled a giggle at Alexander’s reaction and noticed Bryant doing the same.
A knock interrupted their tormenting of Alexander, and Bryant hollered for the waiter to come in. He entered, carrying a tray of the most delectable-looking food Robin had ever seen. Her eyes focused on the filet mignon waiting for her, and her stomach grumbled its approval. The waiter cast a knowing glance around the room, his eyes lingering on the scattered place settings, most of which were shattered, in the corner where Alexander had pushed them. “Shall I reset the table for you, Mr. Abrams?”
Alexander threw an arm around Robin and shook his head. “Just leave it on the table. We can figure something out.”
The waiter gave an exasperated sigh that indicated he was as disconcerted with Alexander as most of the residents of Male Order, placed their food on the table, turned, and left the room.
Alexander grabbed the plates off the tray and carried them around the room toward where Bryant and Robin were still standing, confused. He indicated for them to follow suit.
“Picnic at Hester’s?” he asked, lowering himself to the floor.
Robin smiled and dropped to join him, pleasantly surprised by this outburst of youthful rebellion. The three of them sat on the floor in the corner, shaded by the table, as they ate their food, laughing and smiling throughout their dinner conversation. Robin alternated leaning against Bryant and Alexander, and occasionally, one of their hands would venture toward her breast or ass. They stayed like that after the meal, and only left when the waiter came in and announced the restaurant’s closure for the night.
Chapter 13
Robin crawled out of bed, careful not to wake either of her sleeping men. Her limbs were still heavy with sleep and satiation, but she knew she needed to attend to her true reason for being in Male Order. She scrawled a note informing Bryant and Alexander of her whereabouts for the day and scurried out the door.
Robin had finally figured out a way to complete her assignment without using the letters and was nearing the end of her task. She had alerted the Meadows Museum to the missing letters, noting that they might check European auction house listings to see if any had recently surfaced. Although she had been careful not to directly implicate Melvin Blackmon, she had intimated that their disappearance may have had something to do with the poor organization of the Abrams archive. Once the assignment was complete and she no longer needed to access the archive, she would run to Alexander and then the police. She only needed a few more days.
Tiptoeing down the long stone corridor, she finally approached the room that held the enormous wardrobe Gillian had picked out for her. She chose a pair of denim cut-offs that showed the bottom of the round globes of her ass and a tight-fitting tank top. Hopefully Dr. Blackmon wouldn’t be there to comment on her unprofessional appearance. Texas summers demanded the least clothing possible. Outside of the cool walls of the mansion, Robin knew she had to fight the oppressive Texas heat that had risen to well over one hundred degrees. She sighed, remembering how much worse it was inside the stuffy, carpeted archive.
She made her way to the mansion’s exit, nodding at Rupert as she slipped out. Just as she predicted, the heat washed over her like a wave of steaming lava. Great, a particularly bad day in which to work in that awful little building. She considered turning back for a second, but ultimately thought the better of it. No use prolonging her work in the archive, although, she thought, she could always find a way to insist the museum keep her in Male Order a little longer.
These thoughts danced through her head as she trudged across the Abrams grounds toward the rickety building. She was suddenly quite appreciative of Gillian’s skimpy taste. One more day, she told herself as she wiped the already accumulating sweat from her forehead. One more day.
* * * *
He watched her walking toward the portable building, his face smashed against the decaying blinds, yellowed from years of hard use and neglect. That’s it, girl, he thought to himself. Lean over and show me those pretty little tits. As if responding to his unspoken request, her bag slipped off her shoulder, and she leaned down to pick it up. With lightning speed, gained from years of practice, he snatched up the binoculars from the little desk next to his lotion and tissues.
God almighty, he could see her bra. What was that, black lace? The little whore was wearing that for someone. Rumors flew through the estate staff that she was involved with that motherfucker Alexander Abrams. And if Alexander was as ménageamous as his forefathers, she was probably involved with that Bryant Clare, as well. He had spied her at the stables a few too many times for his liking.
Robin stood back up, and Melvin noticed he was hard again, a common occurrence around her. He stroked his erection, hoping to spill his seed before she made it to the archive. He had to have full control of all his senses for what he was preparing to do. He looked at the white vinyl rope coiled on the desk.
Apparently, Melvin’s attempts to woo Robin had been thus far unsuccessful. He could never figure out why. He gave her full access to the archive, and a dedicated architectural historian, such as Robin, should see that as the greatest gift a suitor could give. He’s the one who had gotten her out here, out of that awful museum where no one appreciated true academic scholarship.
As he continued pumping, his mind drifted to the first time he saw her. Yes, at that conference in Austin where she presented a paper. He couldn’t take his eyes off her and knew then she was the one. He then asked for her specifically to come to the archive, warning the Meadows Museum administration not to tell of her special selection. He focused on her bouncing tits as she came nearer to the building and found his completion. Spurts of semen flew into his waiting tissue, and he quickly rearranged himself. Don’t worry, he told himself, real completion will come soon.
Very soon.
* * * *
A bit languid from the heat and the previous night’s extracurricular activities, Robin slowly trudged up the wooden steps to the portable building. She saw the blinds were drawn, the usual indication that Melvin was away. Thank God. This would all go significantly quicker and easier without his constant, narcissistic interruptions.
She leaned on the door, and it creaked open. Everything was still in the boxes she had organized, and for that she was thankful. She let the door slam closed behind her as she made her way to her tiny elementary-school desk.
“I’ve been waiting for you.”
Melvin’s voice behind her made her jump and turn with a small squeak.
“Hello, my sweet.”
Robin’s heart started racing, and her whole body went into defense mode. She looked for a place to hide or for any sort of escape, but the swarthy, rotund man stood between her
and the exit. Something on the table next to him caught her attention. Her heart stopped. Rope.
“Don’t look so nervous,” he said, his substantial bulk staggering toward her, rope in hand. “Sweet, you’ve been so nervous. Let me rub the tension out of your shoulders.”
“No!” She jumped backward, and a stack of boxes went tumbling to the floor, sending papers flying everywhere and scattering the contents of Robin’s bag.
Melvin’s knuckles turned white from his grip on the rope, but his demeanor did not change.
“Poor baby, not getting enough tension relief from Alexander Abrams? Hmm?”
Oh shit. How did he know about Alexander? Why was this leaking into her professional life? Her eyes darted back and forth around the room, desperately searching for some way out.
“Or is it his buddy Bryant that’s the impotent one? Hmm, Robin?” She ducked in an attempt to escape him. Her attempt backfired, though, and she fell to the floor, allowing Melvin to straddle her. A drip of sweat rolled from his black arm hair and landed on Robin’s cheek. She flinched at the slimy sensation.
“My love, you will be so much happier with me.” He leaned over her and pinned her to the ground. She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping this was all a really terrible dream.
Melvin placed his sweaty hand on her back and pushed her onto her stomach. Tears began rolling out of her eyes at her helplessness. He lowered his significant weight onto her back and began tying her wrists and ankles together, leaving her completely bound. He reached his chubby hand around to her face and pried her jaw open, stuffing a wad of tissue inside.
She suddenly feared what he would do with her in that position. Horrible images from TV crime shows ran through her mind, and the tears fell faster.
“You’ll stay here until you realize what’s best for you, my sweet little angel,” Melvin said as he lifted his weight from her. “All alone so you can think about how you’ve hurt me and what you’re losing.” She heard his footsteps retreating, and relief began welling up in her chest.