by Ryan Ramsay
“It will change your life as it did for us. I know we look brainwashed, but trust me. We three love Stephanie with all our hearts and souls,” says Frank.
“And bodies. We would do anything for our queen Stephanie. As she would do anything for us,” booms William.
“And what you see is barely an inch off a scratched surface. I personally envy you for the fun that is to come,” finalizes Nathan, just as the doors open to reveal Mia standing there, and behind her, the cause and cure for the tingle I felt ever since I shook Mia’s hand in the bathroom not less than an hour ago.
Three men. No. Three archangels stand beside a smiling Mia.
They have on their faces, their lips, their skins, their muscles, their goddamn creamy, dreamy eyes, the exact element that stemmed from my Hollywood actor fantasy. My breath just faltered.
“Christy. These gentlemen are here to play the game we talked about. Perhaps a simple introduction to us all will bode well, gents?” asks Mia, quite strongly.
“I’m Ron,” says the tall, blonde one.
His chin is sharp and strong.
“I’m Damien,” booms the slightly shorter one – they are all tall, and all ripped and handsome – with an impeccable smile.
“And I’m Logan,” says the last one.
His arms are strong and his lips are moist and pink. I see all this standing from a fair distance away for safety; also so that they do not see the goose bumps riding up my neck.
“Fan-fuckin’-tastic, people,” Mia says. “So here we are in this palatial element of circumstance. Only rules set us aside from the animals, so I’ll lay them out.”
She sounds just as on top of things as she always does at church. But this is an entirely different event than I’ve ever seen her plan – that much is for sure.
“To be fair, the four of you are our guests at this palace that is privy to heavy privacy and seclusion from the rest of the world,” she continues. “Anything and everything that could happen here is strictly our business and nobody else’s. None of what has happened here or will happen can ever be replicated beyond these grounds. Is this clear?”
“Yes,” we agree.
I hope it’s really true. Hopefully this place is less gossipy than the church building.
“Good. The rules are simple. You three men are quite rich, as is everyone who is invited to play this game. Billionaires, in fact. Acknowledge that the money you set aside for this event is for the simple purpose of pleasure. There will be no testosterone fights over ego and business acumen. That is for you to pick up once you leave these doors, at your own chosen time. Is this clear?” Mia asks, assertively.
“Yes,” all the men chant.
I’m not sure how she seems to have a strange spell on everyone of the male persuasion, but I love it.
“Fantastic,” Mia says. “Now, you three – Damien, Ron and Logan – have paid a steep price for a treasure hunt this evening. One million dollars each has been tossed into the gauntlet and thrown into the ring. The goal of the game is this: find a golden bracelet hidden somewhere in the maze outside. No man shall help the other, but the lady may help whomever she deems worthy. Is this clear?”
“Yes.”
“Great. Frank, William, Nathan and Stephanie will merely spectate and grant you company once this is over. I will also not be in the capacity to help, but will oversee that all the rules are being followed strictly and to the letter. And now, as you must all be wondering, what is the prize at the end of this?” she asks mysteriously.
“Yes?” I meekly ask out loud.
Mia simply smiles.
“Whenever the treasure hunt is over, Christy here gets all the money from the pot – aside from the fee to the house, which was already taken out, of course,” she says. “And the winner who finds the bracelet will get the chance to fuck the virginity out of her.”
“How did you know?” I ask, embarrassed.
“Christy, give me some credit,” says Mia. “I watch people for a living. I know you don’t have any boyfriend or girlfriend waiting for you back home. But,” she adds, “none of this can start unless you give the go ahead. Let’s see if the men agree.”
“We’re in this,” says a headstrong Ron.
Mia turns to me.
Yes, I’d been fantasizing non-stop about losing my virginity. But not exactly like this. I always thought that when, not if, I had sex, it would be a spectacle beheld by no one but me and the guy involved.
Hesitation breeds deep within me as I teeter between a ‘no, thank you’ situation, a ‘fuck no’ situation and a ‘y’all saucy unclean two-faced three-tongued slimy-cocked pariahs need Jesus’ situation. The phone in my hand vibrates. Saved by the—
“I BETTER FIND YOU ON YOUR BED WHEN I GET HOME. YOU BETTER NOT BE PLAYING HOOKEY INSTEAD OF ATTENDING THE SERVICE.”
My sister really does have a flare with words. Amy sickens me. Not because of her imported and newly-improved nausea-inducing deodorant from Qatar, but for her utmost devotion to something that was never hers in the first place.
She chooses religion day in and day out over a family that has always needed her. She claims to have been there for me since our parents died but it was always a cop-out – she was only ever there to set me up and cast me into the role of sinner to her saint.
Maybe it’s her way to cope with a hard situation that gets harder everyday. But acting like a senseless asshole every time living is involved is no excuse.
And she still has the audacity to hit me with all caps? Nah.
“I will see you when I see you,” is the response I text back to her.
There. Civil, right?
What’s more civil is me switching off my phone. I place it back in my clutch and sigh as I turn to Stephanie. The petite mistress of the castle throws me a quick thumbs-up and leans back in her chair-throne.
As if on cue, one after the other, Frank, William and Nathan fall on her skin; each on a different aspect, texture and privacy level than the other. Lips. Breasts. Crotch. Feet.
I turn to Mia and nod firmly.
“Yes.”
“Yes meaning…” hints Mia cheekily.
“I agree to the rules of the game.”
“And?”
“I want to play,” I say with finality, aching to be defiled by one of these men.
I decide to stop being the good little girl for once, since it’s gotten me nowhere anyway, thanks to Amy always framing me. I want to give in to my basic instincts. I want to be fucked, finally.
Mia responds with a fully slithered smile. So does Stephanie, judging by the moans she elicits when her crotch, fabric and William’s tongue collide.
Chapter Six
Logan
One hundred and twenty-one.
This is the current number of women I’ve seen and almost fallen for with the same gusto their pussy walls, and mouths, have had when they’ve been clenched around my cock. But oddly enough, with each looming prospect, the heat around my loins dating all the way up my spine and holding onto my throat has never been this intense — and all from simply looking at her.
Christy.
There is always something arguably different about whatever girl I’m with. It could be their eyes. It could be their chins, or faces. It’s never about the pussy, mind you. No. that warmth always remains constant.
For me, I think, it all revolves around the innocence. The more of it there is, the more I revere it. The more I crave to have it just once.
But the feeling is overwhelmingly overpowering, with Christy. I can’t even explain it. Perhaps it’s the strangeness of this treasure hunt that Ron has us involved in.
The three of us split the moment Mia claps her hands softly and nods into the direction of the maze outside. Damien and Ron are already off searching for the bracelet, chatting hurriedly among themselves.
I stand resolute, watching my surrounding. The girl stands still at the edge of a hedge, searching with her legs firmly held shut. I don’t need liquid
courage for the next step.
“Hey, Christy.”
She spins around and breaks into such a sweet smile.
“Hey. Logan. I know you’re Logan. Hi.”
I like how she said she knows which one I am. Her eyes meet mine in comforting pleasure, and we both lean into each other at least an inch; enough for me to breathe her in.
Mild soap, scented, and a trace of perfume in her hair mixed in with anticipatory sweat. She’s nervous, even as she shakes my hand for the first time and I linger a little longer. I can tell it’s not because of the challenge.
“Would you like to help me find the bracelet?” I ask.
Her hand loosens up a bit.
“Sure thing. Why not?” she replies.
Her eyes lower to the ground and I swoop at the chance to look her over. She is thick and curvy, my perfect goddess of a woman, but she is also shy. Her skin is well-lotioned and tanned enough to hint at a life of fair sunsets and sunrises. Her hair shows of homemade braiding skills, and I can’t help but wonder if her mother or sister did it up for her before she came here today, although I can’t imagine that happening.
Her dress has been professionally stitched, which is quite intriguing, considering this little town has no well-known tailors. And then there is the case of her shoes: they’re golden beige with a hint of tiny unnoticeable sequins at the frayed edges close to a work out heel. She walks around a lot, and judging by the way she quietly looks up and down my person, I would say she usually does it alone.
I hold onto her hand a little tighter and lead the way into a branched off segment of the maze hedges. The air feels cool and damp, almost light and thick with a hint of honey.
I know I shouldn’t be thinking about work right now, but I can’t seem to stop it. One could say I’m a workaholic, for sure. But usually I get anxious and worried about it. Being here with Christy makes me feel more optimistic and positive about everything.
It feels as though there is nothing stopping the huge merger that is about to happen back at the office. The Henderson case will be my biggest close of the quarter, and considering the warmth of the woman in my hand, the open green field and the possibility of a huge win at this treasure hunt today, I feel unstoppable.
“You really like it here,” she mutters.
“I do. It feels great not knowing what could happen in the next five minutes under the sun. I choose to live that way right now, at least. I can’t say I’m always like that,” I admit. “How about you?”
She hesitates.
“I don’t know, really. I think I enjoy staying home more than the outdoors. It’s safer, less liable to risk.”
“Smart.”
“Thanks. So, do you mind telling me what is on your mind? And please don’t mention the game.”
I politely scoff.
“Why? Do I seem absent?”
We stop after seven turns to the right and one to the left. I turn to her and grip her delicate fingers tighter. Her breath keeps with the pace.
I like that she’s interested in me, as I find her very interesting, too. It’s obvious that she desires me.
“I have to admit I’m thinking about work. But it’s no offense to you. In fact, I’m thinking about it in a better way than I normally do, thanks to you,” I tell her. “Running part of a huge conglomerate is not easy, Christy. Especially not when my partners are two of the smartest men on this side of the country. I guess I’m just stressed over a huge merger coming up at work, and it’s all on me to win it or lose it.”
“Why is that?” she asks softly.
“There’s no real reason I feel like that; I just always do. Anxiety, I suppose. I guess it all started when I was a kid,” I tell her. “I grew up dyslexic and didn’t know or see how best to leave that really hard life back then, but I did. Never looked back, ever since.”
It’s strange that I let that slip of information trickle down. I realize I have never told anyone of my condition except for the boys. I certainly don’t usually tell my sexual conquests about it, as that would only encourage them to get emotionally close- something I never want.
Then again, Christy isn’t my sexual conquest, or at least not yet. And being with her feels different than being with the others has felt. It’s as if she invites me to open up to her and I do, for some reason I can’t explain.
“Well, I find it impressive that you’ve built such a successful business with two of the smartest men on this side of the country,” she says. “It must mean you’ve got some pretty good skills if that’s the case.”
“Ooh, I like it when you use that word.”
“Which one? Impressive?”
“Exactly. I’m glad you find me impressive. I’d say the same for you if we were not alone, in the dark, together and quite frankly holding hands so close they could practically intertwine.”
I can feel her breath on my nose and her heartbeat through my fingertips. Her whole body is racing towards mine. And so is mine.
“Then we should probably use such an opportunity, while we’re still alone,” she whispers.
“Perhaps,” I crisply say in her reddening ear as my arm slithers across her waist to bring her closer.
Her breath shudders on my chin. I breathe her hair in and relish the feel of her red lips so close to mine. Her large, clear eyes watch me with growing and budding curiosity. And I believe it is the duty of a gentleman to fulfill a lady’s desires, when she is in need of it.
I kiss Christy fully on the lips. She does not relent yet, but seems to enjoy the lingering sensation as much as I do.
I slide on her upper lip, and boldly caress her lower one with the tip of my tongue. She moans into me and accepts the invitation. Her mouth opens up to me in chocolate-sweet fashion, and her body crashes into mine for the stability I readily offer.
She tastes of divine ambrosia, untouched and unseen by any man before me. Her skin feels so warm beneath my fingers, and they itch for more.
The subtle pinch of my fingers on her clothed ass lets me know she is ready, despite her hands working up and down my chest boldly. I feel her fingers linger over the bulge tenting my pants. I know what she needs more than she does, and I show her.
One arm over the other, I take her zipper down and the sleeves of her dress off, leaving me to view a black strapless bra holding down two unyielding-to-gravity luscious breasts. My teeth chomp at the fabric to reveal nipples, hard and pointy.
Dare I refuse each into my waiting mouth?
Dare I relent to slobber and kiss each breast with the tenderness it deserves?
Dare I stop at the clenched reaction of her nails on my neck the tighter and softer I suck on each mound of virgin breast?
Dare I stop knowing full well I will fall behind in the game and not win my precious prize?
No. I dare not stop. I dare not stop sucking and holding and caressing and devouring my little Christy. I dare not.
Chapter Seven
Christy
Seeing two people having sex on a screen is one thing. Having a total stranger suck on your hard nipples relentlessly, in an outdoor area where other people can see, is another.
Logan’s mouth and tongue work in concert to give me an experience I never thought possible at any time. His rough yet moisturized hands grab my ass, squeezing, and then my breasts, squeezing harder. He feels so fucking amazing I might have to reconsider the rules of the game.
I want him inside of me now. Right now. And if he doesn’t rise to the occasion, I might just have to throw myself onto him. But somehow I doubt that will be a problem.
“Hey! That’s against the rules!” someone calls out.
Fuck. We’re busted.
I stumble out of my zone of pleasure and focus on opening my eyes to look at the disruption. Ron, the cute-chinned one, stands a few paces from Logan, who’s kneeling-sitting on the grass, and me, who was just grinding against him like there was no tomorrow. I definitely can’t read Ron’s face.
“Thought you could
have all the fun alone?” he says, with a sly grin while walking towards us.
Ron stops short of me, towering above us intertwined hot-bloods, and falls to his knees. Looking closer at him, his face turns out to be… beautiful. I know we women are prized for beauty, but this man possesses some raw handsomeness that dazzles me more than I was expecting it to.