TRIPLE PRINCES: An MFMM Menage Romance
Page 20
And I looked at the men then, all of us stunned, speechless, sated. Because we hadn’t even touched one another, there were only visuals, and yet our cum was all around, pools of wetness, the liquid seeping into the furniture, the floor, the toy.
“Karl,” I said as my breasts heaved, struggling to catch my breath. “What’s that for?” I nodded at the glass as the vibrator shivered its last in my ass.
“Funny you’d ask,” he rumbled as he stood, coming towards me with glass in hand. “Because I wanted you to have a taste.”
And obediently, I tipped my head back as he held the cup to my lips. Oh god. A sip of the white was all I needed to start coming again, the semen hot in my mouth, salty and tangy, my body shaking with lust and desire.
But his brothers wanted more.
“Push it into her,” commanded Kato. “Make sure she gets it in her pussy.”
“Massage it into her cunny lips,” agreed Kristian. “The little girl’s fertile.”
And with that, Karl dropped to his knees beside me, my ass still impaled on the Sybian and shifted me backwards gently so that my pussy was open, exposed for him. The little kitty was a deep pink and pulsing still, glossy and open, dripping with cream. And Karl chuckled.
“A little more honey never hurt, right?” he asked while smoothing his cum onto my pussy, massaging the sperm into my folds, around my clit, teasing the nub, and then up into my vaginal chamber, his fingers exploring, questing, pushing the sweet nectar deep inside.
And I realized then that they were marking me, branding me as theirs. Because there would never be a “boss” per se in this relationship. My efforts to assert myself, to assume the position as an alpha female were valuable yes, but it was merely me coming to full measure within the relationship, a whole woman, with a bounty to share, a beautiful body, and an intelligent, sensitive mind. But as Kristian, Karl and Kato’s “boss”? Probably not because the relationship between us was subtle, deeper, and more profound than what could be captured by that one word. Instead, we were four willing, fertile, virile and totally on-board adults with the world at our fingertips … and this was a new beginning.
EPILOGUE
Kristian
Two years later …
I looked around the Cambodian forest. It was leafy here, a jungle with immense trees, hanging vines, and all sorts of unidentifiable plants. But we’ve done well in establishing a home base, building ourselves a house and home with precision, love and care. The mansion was magnificent, a white French colonial, three stories, with grey shutters and trim, surrounded by an expanse of lawn, a pool in the back. Perfect for our growing family.
Because at that very moment, a peal of laughter ran through the air, the joy of a little girl.
“Higher Daddy Karl, higher Daddy Kato!” commanded Carlie as she flew through the air on her swing.
“Me too!” shrieked Corie, pigtails bouncing as she swung beside her sister. “Me too!”
And my brothers merely chuckled, pushing the children harder, faster, higher, reaching for the sky. But their actions were moderated by a melodic lilt that rang out across the lawn.
“Boys!” called Tina, stepping from the front door. “Watch out, don’t go too high, Corinna and Carlton are still young.” And the beautiful brunette put a hand on her hip, smiling serenely as she took in the bucolic scene.
Because we’re a family now, our three girls, my brothers and I. It was a little difficult at first, to say the least. After giving Tina the promise ring, we made a real effort to mend fences, to figure out what we wanted going forwards and how to go about getting it. And first was figuring out where we’d live. I guess my brothers and I figured we’d end up back in St. Venetia as a default, it was where we met after all, where we had the most memories.
But Tina shook her head slowly.
“I can’t, not right now,” she said somberly. “You know I just founded my non-profit here, Khmer Outreach, and I can’t leave right now, I have too many clients, too many people counting on me, whose livelihoods depend on the loans they get from my company. It’s not feasible.”
And our initial reaction was to protest, to insist that the babies be born in Europe, in Kansas even if it came to that. But we’re better men than that now and held our tongues, considering, contemplating what our girl really wanted and needed.
“How about Anadang then?” I said slowly. I was referring to an upscale neighborhood of Siem Reap where a lot of expats lived, with excellent medical care and plenty of people who spoke English. “Would you consider moving there? We could have the babies at the International Hospital, I know a doctor there, a buddy of mine from college. You’d still be able to work, see clients, and we could find a house to live in, big enough for all of us.”
And Tina smiled at me then.
“Yes, that’s a possibility,” she murmured. “I was afraid you wouldn’t understand, that you’d insist we move back to St. Venetia, but after everything? I’m not so sure that’s the best idea. So for now, let’s stay here, in this beautiful country.”
And so we’d settled in Cambodia at least until the girls were born, Corie and Carlie joining us with loud squalls, their faces red, crying uncontrollably.
“They’re beautiful,” ground out Kato, his face suffused with emotion as he held a newborn in his arms.
“Absolutely gorgeous, just like their mother,” agreed Karl, looking at Tina and his new daughters with absolute adoration, a man with his heart on his sleeve.
And me? I wasn’t much better. I could feel a lump in my throat, my chest tight, as I took Tina’s hand. But the brunette spoke first.
“The three of you look terrible,” she teased, looking at us from her hospital bed. “It’s almost as if you just gave birth and not me,” because the three of us were crying now, tears running down our cheeks at the magnificent gift we’d just been given.
But we had a present for her too, to show how much we loved her, how much we owed her.
“Honey,” I said slowly, reaching into my pocket. “Take this as another promise of sorts. The first ring we gave you marked the beginning of our commitment and as we move down this path, we want to commemorate each step with something special. Karl, Kato and I,” I said through the lump, making it difficult to speak, “thought you might appreciate this token.”
And I flicked open the velvet case to a stunning diamond inside, a huge sparkler set on a narrow band, flashing with fire and light, vivid in its intensity.
Tina’s face was a mix of shock and pure delight.
“Is it?” she breathed, not even daring to touch it.
“Yes,” I confirmed. “It’s a traditional engagement ring, a five carat solitaire. We’re hoping you’ll consider our marriage proposal once again, take this as a symbol of how much we love and adore you.”
And Tina smiled at us, lifting the ring out of the box and sliding it onto her left ring finger where it sat snugly above the tri-color band from before.
“Looks perfect, doesn’t it?” she murmured. “Like they always fit together.”
“Like we always fit together,” growled Kato from the other side of the bed. “All four of us, together.”
And we smiled at each other then, secure in our love, knowing that we had an exciting future together, filled with ups and downs, unexpected happenings, bizarre family relations, and best of us, our baby girls. Because nothing’s turned out as expected. I’m no longer a prince, I gave all that up to establish myself as a citizen, a high-profile one at that, but a commoner no less. Karl, Kato, and I, we work as mercenaries for various defense contractors, Karl and Kato as traditional soldiers of fortune, me as a geopolitical guru / intelligence consultant of sorts. I shrugged. It suits my talents and uses the skills I’d developed as Crown Prince, the negotiation tactics, the intimate knowledge I had of various regimes across the Middle East and Europe, not to mention the personal alliances I’d developed with VIPs around the region.
Meanwhile, St. Venetia? Well the Crown was still
scrambling to find an heir. It was ironic that there were three descendants of the blood living, three male heirs who’d spurned the throne, who wanted nothing to do with St. Venetian problems and politics. Because we were fed up, it was their problem and not ours any longer.
But never underestimate the power of the Crown, or at least the shadow powers operating behind it. Because we’d received word recently that the King and Queen wanted to visit, along with particular Rothschild family members, and assorted dignitaries, an entire entourage. I think they want to patch things up with Karl, Kato and I, yes, but I also think that they want to take a look at Corie and Carlie … as potential heirs to the Kingdom.
And as for Tina? Well our best girl is the light of our lives, the center of our worlds. Staying in Cambodia, letting her pursue her dreams, supporting her as she develops and matures, recognizing her as a full-fledged member of our quartet with thoughts, feelings, input and sway has made all the difference. Our relationship is on sure footing now, she’s secure and we’re secure that we have our differences, yes, that we live in a changing world with shifting dynamics, but that the four of us will hang together and face what comes next. Because that’s what family’s about right? Sticking together no matter what, come thick or thin, hell or high water. And our decision to stay in Cambodia, to remain by her side as we take various jobs on a consulting basis has helped pave the way for a secure future. After all, we may not be royalty per se anymore … but we’ll always be Tina’s Triple Princes.
THE END
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Billionaire Strip Club
A Baby for the Billionaire
(Erotic Romance, Taboo Pregnancy)
© 2015
By Cassandra Dee
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A SNEAK PEEK
I unzipped my pants, setting my cock free and lined myself up at her entrance.
She craned her neck, turning to look at me with pleading eyes. “Aren’t you going to use protection?” she begged softly.
I looked hard at her. “Do I look like the type of douche who uses a condom? Bareback only,” I ground out.
I saw the shimmer of tears in her eyes and couldn’t bear it. Cursing myself under my breath, I stalked over to my suit jacket and pulled out a sheaf of bills, placing them on the counter.
“Ten thousand for bareback,” I said. “The money’s ready for you once we’re done.” She flushed and turned her face away so that I couldn’t see her features, but … were my eyes deceiving me or was the stripper ashamed of what she was doing?
CHAPTER ONE
Jennifer
My little boy reached for me, his arms outstretched for a hug.
“Mama!” he cried happily, and my heart melted as I embraced him, his small body warm against me. Dylan was three, and the fact that he could say “Mama” was a miracle in and of itself. My baby had been born with a rare neurological disorder that impaired development. When other children had begun walking and talking, Dylan had been mute, his little legs unable to support his body.
The doctors had diagnosed this as a lifelong disorder. Dylan would never be what you’d call “normal.” Instead, we had years of physical therapy ahead, plus cognitive specialists who would work with him to bring him to his maximum potential. I wanted the best for my son, and had taken a second mortgage on my house plus begged my mother to move in with us to help manage my chaotic life.
“Jennifer, I saw that stack of bills on the front counter,” said my mom as she washed dishes. Life had been hard for us. As a single mom, she’d struggled to pay the bills, and I’d disappointed her by getting pregnant at seventeen. She’d hoped that I’d break the cycle of single motherhood and poverty, maybe go to college and become a professional. Instead, I worked at the local bakery now, scrabbling to make ends meet as I studied for my GED.
“I know, Ma, I’ll take care of it,” I said.
Her eyebrow was raised. “Jennifer,” she sighed. “I saw that one of those bills was $25,000 alone for Dylan’s physical therapy. And it was marked with a late stamp. How are you going to pay for that?”
“Mom, I have a plan, just trust me, okay? I’ll find a way,” I mumbled. The truth is that my salary was a pittance – barely enough to put a roof over our heads and food on the table, much less deal with crushing medical bills.
“And there’s a leak in the ceiling of the baby’s room,” said my mother. “We need to get that fixed otherwise we’ll have to move Dylan’s crib. We can’t let a three year-old stay in a room where there could be a draft or mold.”
“I know, Mom, I’ll take care of it,” I said softly. “I have to go, okay? The bakery’s expecting me. Thanks so much for watching Dylan tonight.” I gave her a kiss on the cheek and grabbed my satchel. Blowing kisses at my baby, I headed out into the night.
CHAPTER TWO
Jennifer
I often worked night shifts at the bakery. The ovens were left on twenty-four hours, so someone had to be on hand to make sure that the place didn’t burn down. Plus standard practice was to start mixing dough in the evening, so that the pastries would be ready in the morning. I usually worked two night shifts a week, but this Friday was different – I was headed into town to start a second job.
My friend Christina had suggested it to me. At coffee last week, she’d looked unusually chipper and I noticed new highlights in her hair, as well as a designer bag and expensive-looking shoes. Christina worked at the local nursery school, so I knew she wasn’t making bank. Either she’d won the lottery, or there was something she wasn’t telling me.
“How are you honey?” I’d asked, giving her a peck on the cheek as I sat down. When I looked closely at her, I could see that her complexion was Botoxed, and even her breasts seemed a bit bigger.
Christina giggled. “I’ve never been better,” she said, flipping her hair back. She looked so vibrant that I felt positively saggy and old next to her, despite being only twenty-two.
“Jennifer,” she said. “Are you okay? You look really … tired.”
“I am tired,” I smiled sadly. “Dylan’s going to require some extra medical care, and my salary just isn’t enough for everything,” I said. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
She was quiet for a moment. “Normally I wouldn’t tell anyone this, but you’re my best friend and all …” she trailed off.
“What is it?” I asked, my curiosity piqued.
“Well, you know that there are lots of guys in the City, right? Guys with good jobs, who work full-time and make a lot of money doing who knows what all day?”
“Yeah …” I said slowly.
“Well, I went into the City last week and tried out for a job as a dancer. They hired me on the spot!” she said gleefully. “I danced just two nights last week and made so much money, I’m literally swimming in cash,” she confided.
“Dancing?” I asked stupidly. “You mean, like a go-go girl?”
“No,” she said in a hushed voice. “You know … dancing. As in stripping.”
My mouth gaped. My best friend was dancing in a strip club, taking her clothes off for strange men? I literally didn’t know what to say.
She leaned forward and said, “Jennifer, I’m only telling you because I know Dylan needs medical care, and you could use some cash. Think about it … it’s fast cash, one or two nights a week so you wouldn’t be away from him too much, and it’s not hard. I’ve heard that popular girls make four or five tho
usand a night. Think about it, Jennifer. You could really use that extra money right now, what’s stopping you?”
My dignity, I thought in my head. But the bills on my front table filled my mind again. The truth was, the twenty-five thousand dollar invoice my mom had seen wasn’t the only one. I owed somewhere in the range of seventy-five thousand, and had no way to pay it … not even if the creditors put me on a generous payment plan. I just didn’t have a single dollar to spare, much less any extra to call my own.
My mind was made up. “Which club is it at? Do you think they’d hire me?” I asked quietly. I wasn’t exactly the best dancer, but I’d do anything to help my baby boy.
“The club doesn’t have a name per se,” said Christina. “It’s a private billionaires club, so everything’s hush-hush. Just come with me next week, and I’ll introduce you to the manager. I’m sure he’ll find a slot for you. And Jennifer,” she continued. “Wear something skimpy,” she said, nodding at my mom jeans and thick pullover sweater. “Remember, the more ass the more cash, and you need that cash right now,” she said.
Christina was right. Whatever needed to be done, I was willing to do for my baby boy.
CHAPTER THREE
Jennifer
I showed up at a darkened office building in midtown. I double-checked the address Christina had given me. Yep, this was it. It looked no different from any other office building, mediocre and plain, something people probably walked by each day without noticing. I walked to the front desk and said, “Hi, um … Candy Quim here for ….” I felt ridiculous as my voice trailed off. There was no name for the club, and I couldn’t exactly say I was here for the stripper try-outs.