by Roxanne Carr
Neither spoke. They both smiled at her and Antony blew her a kiss as she left, covered in confusion.
She hadn't been able to stop thinking about the strange offer since. For the rest of the day she had replayed the evening in her mind. The memory of her reluctant subjugation to Janine, the exhibitionistic tendencies she had never guessed she possessed, the frustration of being made to watch while Antony and Janine and Alexander . . . and the final humiliation of masturbating in front of them.
'Maggie? Maggie I'm beginning to wonder if you're with us these days!'
She jumped as Jim Thurlstone, her immediate boss, tapped her on the shoulder. Seeing him standing there, frowning down at her, she felt like a schoolgirl caught with her hands in her knickers. Mumbling an inadequate excuse, she took the file he handed to her and immersed herself, red faced, in the paperwork which she had allowed to pile up in her 'in' tray.
It wasn't that she hadn't had offers before, she mused the following afternoon. She had lived with a guy once, in fact, but two together? Her mind skittered off to the possibilities and she had to squeeze her thighs tightly together to stop the trembling which had started up between them.
To her profound relief, Janine had stayed out of her way. She didn't know how she would react to that knowing smile for she still hadn't quite come to terms with what had happened between them. Catching Bob's eye at the next desk, she tried to concentrate.
Her concentration span seemed to have shrunk to the point of extinction. She sighed as she sank back in her chair less than half an hour later. After the mess she'd made of the Jefferson job a few weeks before and her increasing distraction, she was aware that she was going to have to watch her back. Hers was a cutthroat industry and Bob, for one, would be more than happy to step into her shoes.
It came as no great surprise to her when she received a summons from on high not two days later. As she left the MD's office, she wondered with strange detachment, why she wasn't devastated. The phrase 'summarily dismissed' skittered through her mind, swiftly followed by the realisation that she didn't, in fact, really care.
She cleared her desk, working on autopilot and nodded courteously at Bob when he offered her his insincere condolences. Little sod was already eyeing her desk, probably trying to decide the best spot for his aspidistra. She grinned suddenly, startling him, and he scurried off muttering some excuse about having to keep his head down in the light of what had happened to her.
Janine came by with genuine concern in her voice.
'But Maggie, what will you do?'
'I don't know yet.'
Janine regarded her shrewdly.
'You don't seem that cut up about it.'
Maggie looked her squarely in the eye and smiled.
'I've had other offers,' she said airily, gathering up her belongings.
She started in surprise as Janine suddenly leaned forward and placed a restraining hand on her forearm.
'I know what you're thinking of, Maggie, but please – think very carefully before you commit yourself.'
'Oh?'
'Yes.' Janine removed her hand and frowned, seeming suddenly unsure of herself. 'I . . . I wouldn't like to see you hurt,' she said unexpectedly, her voice small.
Maggie thought of Janine's little black bag and what it contained and raised an ironic eyebrow at her. Janine had the grace to blush.
'I mean emotionally hurt.'
Maggie was brisk.
'I can take care of myself. Don't worry – I won't rush into anything.' She smiled, feeling carefree suddenly. On impulse she kissed Janine's smooth cheek.
Then she half-walked, half-ran out of the building to her car and headed straight for the Black Orchid Club.
10
Maggie lay back in the warm, bubbling water and closed her eyes. Bliss! Seven a.m. and there wasn't a soul in the club to disturb her. She had exclusive rights to the Jacuzzi and she revelled in the unaccustomed pleasure of her own company.
She had been living at the club with Antony and Alexander for six weeks now and she was beginning to wonder if she was losing her sense of reality. Today she was taking over from Jackie and a new batch of trainers were coming in for her to interview.
Each man had been personally selected by Alexander and Antony; they had conducted the preliminary interviews and weeded out those who were obviously unsuitable. It was her job to decide which of the five shortlisted would be most popular with the other women.
Judd was leaving after spending almost a year at the Black Orchid and Dean was being released after breaking the 'no outside relationships' rule. In addition, Antony had decided that the club membership had grown sufficiently large to consider employing more trainers. So that meant that Maggie could set on all five candidates she was to put through their paces if she so desired.
She smiled to herself and sank deeper into the Jacuzzi. The bubbles gurgled and fizzed around her legs, tickling the inside of her thighs as they rose upward. She was naked, her dark hair piled up on the top of her head and secured carelessly with a cotton scrunchy. She never bothered with make-up this early in the morning, so she didn't have to worry about the warm water splashing her face, trickling down her cheeks with a lover's caress.
Maggie closed her eyes and, taking a deep breath, submerged herself in the warm water. As she resurfaced, she gripped the padded bar which ran around the circular pool and allowed her naked body to float on the surface of the water.
It was so peaceful with only the light chatter of the watery bubbles and the gentle hum of the air conditioning around her. Slowly, Maggie parted her legs, revelling in the controlled pull of her well toned muscles. She had never been so fit, her body so trim and toned as she was now. And her skin – so soft and blemish free.
Since she had moved in with Antony and Alexander she was rarely allowed to bathe herself. Invariably, she would find the water had been run for her and one or other of them would appear, arms full of perfumed soaps and lotions and talcum. All that was required of her was that she lay back in the water and submit to their gentle ministrations.
Alexander was the best, lingering over every process, polishing her skin as if it were the finest, most valuable porcelain. Yet there was never any sexual contact, even though he was often visibly aroused by touching her. And Maggie . . . Maggie had learned never to make overtures to him for fear of making him angry. No, not angry exactly, she mused. She opened and closed her legs in a scissor like action which forced the bubbles to travel between them with more force, languidly enjoying the way they bumped and popped, unobstructed, against her sex.
Angry wasn't quite the right word to describe Alexander's reaction to the few times she had tried to initiate sex with him. Disappointed in her, perhaps. Certainly, she always felt contrite, like a child who has tried to take one more cookie from the jar.
The most unsatisfactory thing about living with Antony and Alexander was that she was only ever allowed to make love with Antony. They didn't seem to mind if she stayed while they made love to each other, she had, on occasion, even joined in. But she was never intimately alone with Alex.
Maggie sighed as she switched off the Jacuzzi and wrapped herself in a huge white towel. Snuggling into its luxuriously soft warmth, she padded back to her private bathroom, part of her office, which adjoined the pool room. Antony was waiting for her when she went back upstairs to the apartment.
'Ready for the interviews, Maggie?'
'Do I get to eat breakfast first?'
'Only a light one, darling – I wouldn't recommend you have sex with five men in a row on a full stomach.'
He poured them both a coffee and Maggie frowned slightly at him. His tone had been ever so slightly cutting and she sensed an air of resentment about him that she had noticed a couple of times before.
'Is everything all right, Antony?' she asked as he handed her a mug.
He looked up and smiled, somewhat ruefully.
'Don't mind me. I got out the wrong side of the bed this morning.'
>
He left her alone and Maggie reflected that Alexander had not returned home the previous evening. She had a shrewd idea that that was what had put Antony in such a prickly mood. The lounge door opened at that moment and Alexander appeared, as if her thinking about him had conjured him up. As was often the case when he disappeared on one of what Maggie privately termed his French Leave, he was in high spirits, kissing her exuberantly before sinking down beside her on the sofa.
'Phew, I'm exhausted!' he exclaimed.
Maggie slanted a look at him sideways, through her lashes as he helped himself to coffee. He never seemed to feel the need to explain himself or his actions. Didn't he see how his behaviour upset Antony? She could feel the tension emanating from him as he came back into the room, could feel the effort it cost him not to question Alexander about his movements. Yet Alex merely smiled at him before turning to her.
'I want you to try out each of the guys I've selected for you and mark them on a scale of one to ten. Their general attractiveness, their attitude towards you, their confidence and general level of skill, etc. Remember, you've got to bear in mind the needs of our members – don't judge the guys purely on your reaction to them. OK?'
'I think so. What about if one of them gets out of hand?' She blushed as Alexander raised an ironic eyebrow at her. 'I mean, if I don't want to and he . . . well, you know.'
'Antony and I will be behind a two-way mirror. Any problems, give a signal and we'll rescue you.'
Maggie raised her eyes heavenward. She might have known!
'Won't you two get bored, watching me all morning?' she teased gently.
'We'll find something to do if it gets too monotonous, won't we, Antony?'
There was a slight challenge in Alexander's voice as he turned to the other man, but Antony just shrugged. Maggie had no doubt that Alex would talk him round – he always did.
Later, in the large, luxuriously appointed 'office' she had been given, Maggie began to feel nervous. She leaped up from the comfortable leather chair which sat behind the heavy, masculine looking old oak desk and paced to the other end of the room, her high-heeled mules soundless on the cream carpeted floor
By the second-floor window which overlooked the city, there were two rattan chairs and a glass topped table on which she had placed an assortment of drinks and crockery. A coffee percolator hissed and fizzed on the small counter in the corner, filling the room with the aroma of coffee beans.
Nervously, she drew the butter yellow silk curtains and walked round switching on the softly shaded lamps placed strategically round the room. The large, comfortable, lemon chintz covered couch faced the two-way mirror on the opposite wall and she went over to it and switched off the privacy switch so that Antony and Alexander could see the room.
Glancing at the grandfather clock, ticking sonorously in the corner by the desk, Maggie saw that it was time to begin. Yet still she procrastinated. It all seemed so cold, so clinical, preparing to make love with five men she had never even seen!
She was wearing a cream silk robe, belted at the waist, which brushed the floor as she walked. She was naked underneath and she suddenly felt vulnerable.
'What's the matter, Maggie?' Alexander's voice over the intercom made her jump.
'I . . . I just feel a bit awkward, that's all. Er . . . maybe this isn't quite such a good idea.'
'You knew what the job would entail, Maggie, are you having second thoughts?'
Alexander's tone was cutting and Maggie stopped her pacing and took a deep breath. He was right, she knew what she was taking on. She trusted him to help her if she couldn't handle anything, and there wasn't much she felt she couldn't cope with. And she really didn't want to lose this job – apart from anything else, she loved living with Antony and Alexander. She wanted to please Alex and the idea that he was becoming impatient with her made her reply hastily.
'Of course not.'
'Just get on with it, then, Maggie, there's a good girl.'
Maggie pressed the buzzer on her desk and the heavy oak door opened silently on its well oiled hinges. Maggie's eyes widened in surprise as the open doorway was filled by an enormous, broad shouldered hulk. His skin shone like well-polished ebony, his shaven head as smooth and well shaped as the rest of him. The whites of his eyes showed up in startling contrast to the blackness of his skin and as he treated her to a slow, confident smile, her eyes were drawn to the perfection of his strong white teeth.
He closed the door behind him and Maggie's eyes were drawn to the way his shoulder muscles rippled under the tight-fitting black T-shirt. There was a glint of gold in one earlobe and around his thick, strong neck. As he walked slowly towards her, Maggie's eyes were drawn to the thigh muscles which bulged in the tight blue jeans and the unmistakeable fullness at his crotch.
Her eyes snapped up as he stopped, standing in front of her, waiting. She swallowed, wetting her unaccountably dry throat, her former nervousness forgotten. This was one hell of a guy.
'Hello!' she smiled, holding out her hand, 'and you are?'
'Constantine G. Winchester the Third,' he said, his smile flashing at her look of astonishment, 'but my friends call me Con.'
His voice was beautiful, rich as dark treacle, yet as smooth as a good brandy. Maggie felt the compulsion to make him talk more, just for the pleasure of hearing that strong, well modulated voice. As he enclosed her soft, well manicured hand in his larger, stronger one, though, the attractions of his voice faded into insignificance.
Maggie allowed him to pull her slowly towards him until they stood, breast to breast. Even in her high-heels, she had to crane her neck to look up at him and she was glad when he lowered his head to hers and covered her mouth with his.
His kiss took her breath away, his tongue wrapping itself around hers and drawing it into the hot wet cavern of his mouth. His chest was solid, immovable as her soft breasts were crushed against it and she felt herself being lifted up, off her feet. His sheer bulk made her feel tiny, powerless in his arms as he held her to him with one hand while he opened her robe with the other.
He balanced one trainer clad foot on her desk and literally sat her on his bent knee, cradling her with one arm as he covered one quivering breast with his hand. Maggie sucked in her breath as she contemplated the erotic contrast of his dark hand on her white breast as he knowingly coaxed her nipple to hardness.
She ran her hand tentatively over the smooth dome of his stubble free skull as he bent his head to her breast. The skin felt warm and velvet soft under her fingertips. Maggie closed her eyes as his lips tugged at her responsive nipple, sending little shocks of reaction along the nerves connecting it to her innermost centre of pleasure.
Con pushed the robe off her shoulders and she shivered as it fell to the floor in a silky heap, leaving her skin exposed to the air. It was comfortably warm in the room, yet she felt little goosebumps form all over as he ran the palm of his hand down her side from her armpit to her hip. The rough skin of his palm lightly snagged her skin as he polished her hip bone before gripping her thigh, lifting it up so that her leg was bent at the knee.
Smiling slightly at Maggie, Con used his free hand to unbutton his fly and release his tumescent penis from the constriction of his jeans. Maggie unconsciously licked her lips as the monster reared up and pointed its succulent tip at her. Her mouth watered as she contemplated savouring the musky, salty teardrop which had appeared in its centre, but Con was holding her fast and she had no chance to move.
Easing his jeans over his taut buttocks, he left them stretched around his thighs as he sat her on the edge of the desk and he positioned himself between her thighs, feet planted firmly apart. His large hands parted her sex and he framed the tender, moist pink fold of flesh with his two hands, touching her almost reverently.
Maggie watched with bated breath as he ran his two forefingers along the insides of the outer lips, exposing the glistening flesh leaves within. As he reached the most sensitive point, he squeezed the labia firmly together, ma
king her pleasure-bud tingle in anticipation.
She was disappointed when he removed his fingers, though not for long. His large hands slipped under her bottom and cradled each buttock, forming a warm cushion between her and the cold, hard wood of the desk. Then he was lifting her up, balancing her entire weight in his palms as he held her, poised, the entrance to her body opening above his swaying shaft.
Maggie gasped as he lowered her slowly and she was impaled on the hard rod which filled and stretched her to capacity. Her arms flew around his neck as he took her entire weight on his hands and moved her pelvis up and down, rubbing her clitoris firmly against the fine line of black hair on his lower belly as he did so.
He was so strong, so solid, he seemed immovable as Maggie clung helplessly to him, powerless to resist his determined manipulation of her body. His eyes were closed now, his lips slightly parted. A fine line of perspiration glistened on his smooth upper lip and the cords in his thick neck stood out as he neared his release.
The relentless, ticklish pressure of his belly against her clitoris was driving her wild, her well-lubricated sheath throbbing and burning as the huge cock slid in and out of her. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the sensations building deep within her.
A kaleidoscope of colours exploded behind her eyelids as the rhythmic rubbing brought her to orgasm, her ankles linking behind Con's back as she sought to meld herself further with him. A deep, guttural groan sounded deep in his throat, emerging as a triumphant shout as his seed burst from him and shot upward into her sex, still convulsing strongly around him.
Even in the throes of orgasm, Con stood, feet planted firmly shoulder-width apart, steady as a rock. He held Maggie firmly until the waves had subsided and she clung weakly to him, spent. Then he carefully lifted her up and off his still partially erect penis and put her gently onto her feet in front of him.
Maggie leaned weakly against the desk and watched him as he calmly pulled his jeans back up, tucking his formidable member inside before rebuttoning the fly. He smiled at her, cocking his head slightly to one side as if expecting her to say something.
