Four under the Mistletoe: A MFMM Menage Romance (Christmas Billionaire Menage Series Book 2)

by Tia Siren

  “I don’t want to know how real men live,” I said as I tugged the T-shirt over my head. My tits bounced happily, relieved to be free of the tight shirt.

  My nipples tingled at the cool night air as they longed for a warm mouth to heat them up.

  I lay back and reached out for him.

  “I want to know how real men fuck.”

  “That, my lady, is something I can definitely do.”

  CHAPTER 7: Christopher

  December 24, 2006, San Jose, California

  I slid the van door shut and turned to find her lying on her back on the sleeping bags with several pillows behind her head. Her shirt was already off. She was tugging loose the tie that held back her red ponytail.

  Her breasts were like two large, milky white globes, illuminated by the light that came through the van’s dirty back windows. She looked like an angel as her red hair drifted down across her shoulders. I took a mental snapshot. It was a sight I would never forget.

  I tugged my tank top over my head and tossed it aside. I fell into her arms, and when my lips touched hers, it was as if I’d stuck my cock into a light socket.

  She felt it, too, because I heard a little moan escape her lips and she jumped the moment our tongues met.

  As my tongue probed into her mouth, every muscle in my body tensed, every tiny hair stood on end. I literally felt my cock growing inside my jeans, like one of those time-lapse videos. It pushed against the denim so hard that I thought the material might split to set the ten-inch monster free.

  I swept my tongue around her lips. She opened her mouth to me, teased her tongue against the tip of mine.

  My hands found her breasts. They were amazing: soft, full, natural, not hard like the fake tits most of the girls had.

  Her nipples were literally the size of the end of my little finger and nearly at long. When my thumb brushed over them I heard her moan.

  She wrapped her legs around my thighs and ground her cunt against me. Her fingernails dug into my back as she came, her body shuddering against me.

  The scent of her juices filled the van and made me even harder. My mouth trailed down her neck to her breasts. I was dying to have those nipples between my lips. I had never been with a woman with such long, thick nipples. I cupped her big globes and swirled my tongue around them. Mandy moaned and bucked against me again. I pressed her tits together so I could lick both nipples at the same time.

  Mandy whispered in my ear. “I want to suck you.”

  I pushed myself up and gave her a smile. The sight of my cock pressing against the front of my jeans made her eyes go wide. She unbuttoned her jeans and pushed them down her long legs and told me to do the same.

  That was one thing Mandy would learn about me.

  When sweet pussy was involved, you didn’t have to tell me twice.

  CHAPTER 8: Mandy

  December 24, 2006, San Jose, California

  Granted, I was only twenty-two years old and had only had a few sex partners in my time, but I’d seen some pretty impressive cocks.

  The professor who took my virginity was a large black man who had a cock that looked like a New York salami. It was over a foot long and as thick as a shot glass when hard.

  Truth be told, the damn thing nearly scared me to death the first time I saw it. I could only get half of it in my cunt and maybe a third of it in my mouth without gagging.

  That was the main reason I stopped seeing him; I was afraid that one day he might accidentally kill me with the damn thing.

  I’d seen short cocks and long cocks, cocks that angled up, cocks that stuck straight out, cocks that went to the left, and cocks that went to the right. But I had never seen a more perfect cock than the one that was attached to Christopher Kinsey.

  He was naked on his knees in front of me. My eyes swept up and down his body. His muscles were tensed, as if electricity was flowing through them.

  His shoulders were round and his chest was thick and his abs were sculpted, and stemming from the thick crop of blond pubic hair below his bellybutton was ten inches of anatomical perfection.

  Christopher’s cock was perfectly straight and capped off with a purplish head that looked like a balloon about to pop. It was thick and veiny and fully engorged. A tiny drop of welcome juice appeared from the slit, and I couldn’t resist wiping it off with the tip of my finger and putting the finger into my mouth. He groaned and asked what I wanted him to do.

  I propped up on the pillows and put my hands on his hips. I guided him to straddle me, his knees at my armpits, until his cock was almost touching my lips. I put both hands around the shaft of his cock and started to slowly pump him, back and forth. The head of his cock flushed purple and dripped juice onto my chest.

  Christopher pressed his palms to the side of the van above my head and closed his eyes. I parted my lips just enough to let the head of his cock slide in and continued slowly milking the shaft.

  I sucked on the head like a lollipop and swirled my tongue around the underside where the little bundle of nerves met at the tip end of the shaft. I heard Christopher moan his approval. I could taste him juicing in my mouth.

  I took his cock out of my mouth and held it with one hand so I could lick the entire bottom side of the shaft from base to tip. Each time my tongue slid up and down, Christopher moaned.

  I glanced up at him with the underside of the head pressed to my lips. His eyes were closed; his mouth was hanging open. He was panting like a dog.

  I removed my hands from his cock and reached around to cup his ass cheeks, one in each hand. His ass was like concrete as the muscles tensed beneath my touch.

  I pushed his ass toward my face and let his cock slide halfway into my mouth. I used my hands to set the pace for a moment, and then Christopher started to set the pace on his own, slowly fucking my mouth as my hands clenched the cheeks of his ass.

  Christopher straightened his back so that he could reach behind him and find my soaked pussy with his fingers. The moment his finger touched my clit, I came in a great wave.

  Without thinking, I leaned my head forward and took his entire cock down my throat and held it there until my body stopped shuddering.

  It was at that moment that I discovered my ability to deep-throat an entire cock without gagging. It was a trick I’d use many times in the years to come.

  I didn’t think Christopher could believe his eyes, because when I looked up, his cock still fully in my mouth, he was grinning like the cat that ate the canary.

  CHAPTER 9: Christopher

  December 24, 2006, San Jose, California

  I couldn’t believe my eyes. When I started rubbing Mandy’s clit, she immediately had another orgasm. This girl seemed to come just from touching her. But that was not the cool part. The cool part was that when I opened my eyes and looked down at her, she was deep-throating me. That was right. She had all ten inches of my cock in her beautiful mouth. I’d been with lots of girls, but never had I had one who could take it all in and just hold it there. She smiled up at me and let my cock slip from her lips.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  “I am perfect,” she said, her hand working my shaft again. I climbed off her so I could lay down beside her. My lips found hers again, and we kissed as my fingers went to work on her pussy as her hand stroked my cock.

  She was soaking wet, hot and oily. Heat radiated from within her. Even though it was cool outside, it was hot as hell in the van because of the fire we had started. The windows were steaming over. A fine film of sweat covered out bodies. I moved my tongue to her tits and licked it off, reveling at the taste of her salty sweat.

  When I slipped a finger inside her tight box, Mandy moaned in my ear. I twiddled her clit with my thumb as my finger slid in an out. She was juicing like crazy. It didn’t take long for my entire hand to be drenched.

  “Fuck me, Christopher,” she moaned. “Put your big cock in me now. Make me cum again.”

  I rolled on top of her. She spread her legs wide and used her ha
nd to guide the head of my cock to her opening. When I pushed the head into her, she shuddered. I could feel her pussy pulsating as my cock slid inside her.

  I braced my palms on the floor and began rocking into her, my cock sliding in as far as her pussy would allow. She wrapped her legs around my waist and grabbed on to my arms. Her big tits flounced as I rammed in and out of her.

  I looked down to find her looking up at me. Our eyes remained locked until finally I felt myself explode and she clenched her legs to pull me fully into her as she came.

  It took us both a minute to recover, but when we looked at each other again, I thought we both knew that this wouldn’t be just a one-night stand.

  Some connection had been made between her and me, a connection that I knew would last for many years to come.

  CHAPTER 8: Christopher

  December 24… Present day… Yesterday…

  I had been racking my brain for weeks, trying to come up with the perfect Christmas gift for Mandy. There was a pair of expensive diamond earrings already wrapped in the glove box of my Tesla, and I’d just leased a new Audi convertible for her to use as a company car, but that wasn’t enough.

  I wanted to give her something personal, something that clearly showed how much she meant to me, but I had no idea what that might be.

  As had been the case since the moment we met at Louie Louie’s all those years ago, she’d been my rock this past year, standing beside me and defending me whenever I did something crazy that made most of friends question my sanity and loyalty.

  Like that debacle at the Christmas party the other night.

  I knew McKenzie was in love with Patrick, but I continued to pursue her, thinking I could win her over with my great looks and charm. And my ten-inch cock. I know, humility was not my strong suit.

  When I dragged her onto the dance floor at the party and tried to kiss her, she punched me in the nose and stormed off to find Patrick. I couldn’t blame her. I was being a dick and she called me on it.

  Good for her and good for Patrick.

  It was the first time in a long while that someone’s had the nerve to put me in my place.

  I was going to make it a point after the holidays to get her and Patrick together so I could apologize to them both and wish them well. I couldn’t fathom how one man could spend the rest of his life with one woman, but I honestly hoped they could make it work.

  The fact was, I thought I was a little jealous of them. I know, totally out of character for me to be jealous, but it was a feeling I couldn’t shake. I was not jealous of McKenzie, per se. I’m jealous of them as a couple, doing all the things couples do, making plans, mapping out a future.

  They seemed to have the kind of connection where they didn’t need anyone else to be happy, so long as they had each other.

  Call it love.

  Call it devotion.

  It was a connection I’d never made. I guessed the feelings I had for Mandy would be the closest I ever came to truly being in love.

  All that said, I couldn’t imagine being in a serious, monogamous relationship.

  Christ, I wouldn’t even know how to begin.

  I could be an insensitive dick. I knew that. I was a narcissistic, self-centered, egotistical asshole. I tried to put others first, but goddammit, it was hard. There was nobody putting me first, so why should I put others ahead of myself?

  I went to a therapist once and she told me I was borderline manic-depressive, that my selfish outlook on life stemmed from the fact that both of my parents had died when I was young and I’d basically had to fend for myself. She said until I faced the things that caused me to be the way I was, I would never change.

  She prescribed Xanax and intensive therapy.

  I fucked her on the couch in her office and never went back to see her again.

  Change was not as easy as taking a pill and saying three Hail Marys.

  She said I wouldn’t change until I was ready to.

  Honestly, I didn’t think that day would ever come.

  * * *

  I was sitting in my office with my bare feet on the desk when my secretary buzzed in. I was going over the rough draft of our annual report and was happy with the numbers we’d achieved. It had been another good year for KPS. A record year, in fact. My billions just keep on growing and growing.

  I tossed the report on the desk and hit the intercom button. “You rang?”

  “Terry and Tony Wolf are here to see you.”

  My mood immediately brightened. Along with Patrick, the Wolf brothers were my oldest and dearest friends. If they hadn’t believed in Patrick and I, and convinced their dad to invest fifty grand when we were still in our dorm room at MIT, KPS would have never happened. We all got stupid rich and were still thick as thieves.

  “Show them in before they ravage you,” I said. I got out of the chair and came around the desk to greet them.

  Tony and Terry Wolf looked as if they had been forged from the same mold. They were rich and adventurous, notorious womanizers, and it was easy to see why TMZ always went on high alert when they came in from New York City.

  The Wolf boys were identical in every way: six foot two, lean muscles, dark wavy hair, and crystal blue eyes. Christ, if I were a chick I would fuck them. There had been times when we were banging a woman together that I just sat back and watched in admiration.

  “Wolf boys!” I said as they walked in the door. Even after all this time I couldn’t tell them apart without looking for the tiny scar on Tony’s chin, the result of a particularly tough Rugby match back at MIT. And no, the scar didn’t come from me. I was always in the stands trying to get laid while the Wolf boys were tearing it up on the field.

  We came into a three-way hug and I directed them toward the chairs across from my desk. I settled into my chair and asked, “You guys want something to drink?”

  “I’m good,” Tony said.

  “I’m good,” Terry said.

  “What are you guys doing in Silicon Valley?”

  “We’re meeting with those VCs that you recommended to us next week,” Terry said. “They have a few companies they want us to look at. We thought we’d come out a little early and do some Christmas surfing with you.”

  “And of course, we’d like to get more than our feet wet while we’re here,” Tony said. “We were hoping you could hook us up with a little California Christmas pussy.”

  “Like you need my help with that,” I said with a grin.

  “As I recall, the last time we were in town we double-teamed a hot black girl who works here,” Terry said with a smile. “Keisha, I think was her name. She still around?”

  I smiled. “She is still around and still smoking hot,” I said, “but I think she’s seeing someone seriously.”

  Terry made a sour face. “Dude, what the fuck’s up with all these women looking for serious relationships?”

  Tony made the same face. “Yeah, what the fuck? Doesn’t anybody just wanna fuck anymore?”

  “The world is changing, fellas,” I said with a heavy sigh. “Maybe you guys need to change with it.”

  “Fuck that,” said Terry.

  “Fuck that,” echoed Tony.

  “Yeah, fuck that,” I said, sounding like a giddy teenager. I couldn’t help it. That was how the Wolf boys made me feel, like I was nineteen years old again, back at MIT, living in a shitty little dorm room with Patrick, driving that beat-to-shit van I bought from some guy on the street for fifty bucks. I’d been flat broke and living off the good graces of others, but man, what a great time we had.

  Just being around the Wolf boys made me happy.

  Being around them was like sticking your finger in a light socket. You were filled with an electricity that made every nerve in your body tingle.

  They made me feel alive.

  And just like that, a little Christmas tree light went off above my head.

  I suddenly knew the perfect Christmas gift for Mandy.

  * * *

  After the Wo
lf Boys left, I picked up the phone on my desk and punched in Mandy’s extension. She answered on the first ring. She knew better than to put me on speaker phone. Even at work our conversations could get a little spicy.

  “Yes, Mr. Kinsey,” she said sweetly. Her tone told me she was smiling.

  “Miss Pitkin, I was wondering if you would like to spend Christmas Eve together,” I said formally, like two business associates setting up a client lunch. “Discussing some matters of urgent business.”

  “Hmmm, I’ll have to check my calendar. Please hold,” she said. “Ah, you’re in luck. Seems that I am free this evening. Shall we wait on Santa together?”

  “That would be lovely,” I said in a very bad British accent. “I’ll send a car for you around nine.”

  “Very good, sir. I look forward to seeing you this evening.”

  “And Miss Pitkin,” I said, lowering my voice. “Please dress accordingly.”

  “Yes, sir. As always, sir. I have the perfect outfit in mind.”

  CHAPTER 10: Mandy

  December 24… Present day… Yesterday…

  Christopher calling to ask if I wanted to spend Christmas Eve with him told me one thing: He couldn’t find anything better to do or anyone else to fuck.

  Most women would have been insulted by this knowledge, but it didn’t faze me in the least. That was how our relationship worked; we were always there for each other, especially when no one else seemed to be.

  He was my “go to” guy and I was his “go to” girl. We turned to each other whenever we had nowhere else to turn.

  More than anything, I felt bad for Christopher, because I knew his holidays were not working out as planned. I had told him that chasing after McKenzie Wallace was a mistake, but he didn’t listen.

  Clearly she was not cut out for our lifestyle. She was a dabbler who just wanted to dip her toe in the pool, not dive headfirst into the deep end.

  It wasn’t about the kill to Christopher; it was about the hunt. He didn’t want McKenzie Wallace; he just didn’t want anyone else to have her, especially Patrick Palmer. They were best friends and business partners. They would give each other the shirts off their backs. They would fight and die for each other. Yet if it came down to stabbing Patrick in the back over a woman, Christopher would do it in a heartbeat.