24 Inches: A MFM Romantic Comedy

by Alexis Angel

  Moving slowly, they unbutton their shirts and allow them to slide down their arms, the ripped muscles of their chests coming into sight. I let my eyes wander over the grooves between their abs, the hard contour of their pectorals, and their broad shoulders … and then they take off their shoes and push their pants down, finally standing in front of me with only one tiny piece of clothing on their bodies.

  “Happy?” Logan asks me with his cocky smile, and I look at him with one cocked eyebrow and a devilish grin.

  “You have no idea,” I purr, raising my arms and resting my hands over their stomachs, feeling the steel-hard shape of their abs under the palm of my hands. Sliding my hands down, I curl my fingers on their boxer briefs and, doing it as slowly as I can, I push them down.

  Their cocks come into sight fast, springing free at once. I start chomping on my lower lip as I see their two masts saluting them and, throwing all patience out the window, I simply push their boxer briefs down their legs as hard as I can.

  “Perfect,” I whisper, sitting up on the bed and allowing my eyes to roam from one naked body to the other.

  “Now what? Do you just want us to stand here?” Logan continues with his line of questioning, and I can tell that he’s dying to throw me on top of the bed and fuck me silly. But no, he’s not going to be doing that right now.

  “What if I do?” I chuckle, enjoying the look of frustration on their faces. At the same time, I lean back on the bed and spread my legs, resting my heels over the edge of the mattress. Their eyes go straight for the space between my thighs, and I just know that they’re mentally tearing my thong into shreds right now.

  “Take it off me,” I whisper, pulling my skirt up to my waist and showing them my wet thong. They exchange another glance and then take a step forward; moving as if they were one, they place their hands on my knees and then slide them up my leg, only stopping when all of their fingers are grabbing my thong. They start pulling it down slowly and, with each inch the fabric slides down my body, the wetter I become.

  With my thong finally off my pussy, I sit back up and look from one man to the other. “Now,” I whisper, allowing one hand to slide down the front of my dress and resting two fingers over my clit, “I want you to stroke yourselves.”

  “Is this…?” Anders asks me, and I know that he has finally realized what’s on my mind.

  “Yes, it is…” I whisper, warm blood rushing to my cheeks. I’m slightly embarrassed but, at the same time, I feel so excited that it’s insane. I’m acting out one of the scenes in my book; how crazy is that? I’ve put words down on the paper, and now I’m breathing life into these words.

  “What? What are you talking about?” Logan asks, his eyes betraying all the confusion going on inside his head.

  “Wait and you’ll see,” I promise him, and then arch my back and start rubbing my clit, allowing my two fingers to dance over my pleasure bud. Electricity starts crackling under my skin, and I allow waves of pleasure to caress my body.

  Their eyes widen as they see me pleasure myself and, before I know, they start stroking themselves. I watch them do it as if I’m hypnotized, barely blinking as I follow the back and forth motion of their hands. Seriously, if you never saw a man stroke himself while he watches you masturbate, you’re really missing out.

  There’s just something about the absence of touch, you know? Something depraved and insanely delicious.

  “You like that?” I ask them both and, taking my fingers off of my clit, I bring them to my mouth. Parting my lips, I slide them inside my mouth and suck on them, wetting them. I take them back down to my pussy, but this time I simply ignore my clit. I press my index finger on the crevice between my inner lips and then slip it inside my pussy, curling it upward and only stopping when my fingertip is pressed tight against my G-spot.

  I bite hard on my lower lip as I feel a maddening pressure start to build inside of me, and I do it so hard that I wouldn’t be surprised if I started tasting blood anytime soon.

  “Fuck, that’s hot,” Logan breathes out, and he starts stroking himself so fast that I have no idea how long it’s going to take him. I mean, I can already see pre-cum glistening on the tip of his cock.

  “It is, isn’t it…?” I whisper, sliding one more finger inside my wet and warm pussy. Flicking my wrist, I start fingering myself, building up a slow and gentle rhythm as I hear both their breaths growing more urgent and ragged.

  “Are you really going to do it, Lana?” Anders asks me suddenly, and my eyes lock on his. I smile at him, showing him one lewd smile.

  “Of course I am,” I say with a devilish chuckle, and then turn to Logan so that I can enjoy the frustration and confusion on his face.

  “What the fuck are you two talking about?” he groans, flicking his wrist so hard that the motion of his hand has became a blur.

  “Keep on stroking that big cock for me and you’ll see soon enough,” I tease him, a moan bubbling up to my lips as I take my free hand to my clit and start rubbing it again. Working on my clit and G-spot at the same time, I feel my muscles start to tense up, and I know that I’m already dangling over the edge. Just one slight push and I’ll tumble down into pleasure’s abyss.

  And that sounds perfect, doesn’t it?

  Sliding the third finger inside me, I feel my pussy stretching to accommodate me, and that’s when the orgasm hits. For the first time since they started stroking themselves, I close my eyes and throw myself back onto the mattress, pressing my legs together and trapping my fingers inside my pussy.

  “Oh God,” I moan, ecstasy stinging every inch of my body like an angry wasp. Sliding my fingers off my pussy, I grab at the sheets covering the mattress and bunch them up as my muscles spasm and twitch, all kinds of wicked thoughts tap-dancing inside my skull.

  “You look so fucking beautiful when you come,” Logan tells me, and that’s when I open my eyes to look at him. Moving fast, I sit up on the bed and then position myself on all fours, facing them. Their cocks are right in front of my face, and so I do the only logical thing; I launch myself forward, opening my mouth as wide as I can and taking the whole length of Logan’s cock inside me.

  I start bobbing my head furiously while I grab Anders’ cock with one hand and start to stroke him at my own rhythm. Sucking and stroking, I close my eyes again and surrender to the ferocity of instinct. I do it for God knows how long and I only pull back from Logan’s cock when my neck starts complaining from the effort. Of course, I only do it so that I can switch up between them.

  Taking my mouth to Anders, I gobble up his cock in an instant and give him the same treatment I gave Logan. I work on both of them until I feel them more than ready to explode, and that’s when I stop altogether.

  “Don’t move, boys,” I laugh, going up to my feet in a hurry. I waltz all the way to the minibar on the far end on the room and open the cabinet standing on top of it. From the inside, I grab a martini glass and then make my way back to my two men.

  “No fucking way,” Logan cries out, a look of pure disbelief on his face. “Are you really going to--?”

  “That’s right,” I laugh, sitting back down on the bed and waving the glass at them. “Give me all you got…” I purr, and I don’t need to say a word more. They grab their cocks again and start stroking themselves furiously, deep concentration making the lines in their faces deeper and deeper.

  “I want you to fill it up to the brim…” I continue to say, teasing them as they work their cocks just for me. “I want you to --” The words fade away into nothingness as I hear Anders groan. I turn to him as fast as I can and, grabbing his cock with my free hand, I angle it down and place the glass right in front of it.

  A fraction of a second later he starts cumming, his white warm seed tainting the clear surface of the glass.

  “Fuck,” Logan says and I turn to him just in time to see the look of pure ecstasy in his eyes. Lucky for me, he knows exactly what I want from him; he angles his cock down and points it at the glass, shooting thick r
opes of cum into it.

  I look at the glass in a trance, watching as their cocks spurt a never-ending river of cum. It only takes a couple of seconds until they fill it up to the brim, and still they keep on cumming, their seed dripping down the rim and cascading down the outside of the glass.

  “This is fucking insane,” Logan laughs and I know that, despite his words, he’s enjoying every second of it.

  “I know … and that’s why it’s fun,” I reply, finally taking the glass from down their cocks as they finally stop cumming. Raising it up, I wave it from side to side, feeling thick beads of semen going over my knuckles and then falling onto the floor.

  I start taking the glass to my lips, but then I stop before my tongue touches the rim. I look from Anders to Logan, and then give them a soft smile.

  “You know… I never did anything like this,” I admit, having no idea why I’m saying it. “But I trust the two of you. I feel safe around you and, more than that, I feel free. I want to do all kinds of dirty and wicked things with the two of you … starting with this,” I let my voice fade into a whisper, and then I run the tip of my tongue over the rim of the glass. I move it around, licking the rim dry, and then part my lips and tilt the glass.

  The moment I do it, I feel the salty warmness of their cum coating my lips and tongue. It has a fiery taste, as if every single drop was all of their manliness distilled into a drink.

  Tilting the glass even more, I let their seed fall into my mouth, most of it now dripping down my chin and neck. I keep on doing it until the glass is completely empty, and then I jump up to my feet in front of them, holding all the cum I can inside my mouth.

  “You’re driving me insane,” Anders says out of the blue and, reaching for me, he places one hand under the nape of my neck and pulls me into him. He crushes his mouth against mine and, before I can do anything about it, he shoves his tongue past my lips. I kiss him eagerly, enjoying the way our tongues are wrestling over a blanket of cum, but then I feel Logan pulling me by the arm.

  He pulls me into him and kisses me, not a word leaving his lips before our mouths enter a collision course. I kiss him as fiercely as I did with Anders, enjoying the way the taste of both men take control of every single thought floating inside my head.

  As I’m kissing Logan, Anders places one hand on the small of my back and presses his body against me. Then he just leans in, resting his lips over the corner of my mouth. Logan softens up his kiss and gives Anders some space and, the moment he does it, the three of us surrender to the most devilish and wicked kiss anyone has ever shared.

  And you know what? As dirty and sinful as this moment might be, it’s one of the most beautiful moments of my life. More than being about sex, this moment is about release and acceptance. There’s no one in here to judge us but ourselves, and none of us are interested in judgment. No, the only thing we’re interested in is pleasure.

  “We should definitely act out the rest of the book…” Logan says, pulling back from me and smiling. I smile back at him, watching his lips glisten from all the cum there. Then I turn to Anders and offer him the same smile, the intensity of the moment still forcing my heart to thump fast inside my chest.

  You know what? I always thought that being a writer, despite it being my dream, was a lonely and thankless job. But I was wrong; being a writer is fun.

  Especially when you can act out your favorite scenes.

  24

  Logan

  Well, I’m back at the bar.

  Except, this time, I’m not alone. Nope, I’ve brought a little something with me: Lana’s manuscript. I’ve chosen a small booth at the corner, far from all the confusion surrounding the counter, and I’m nursing an aged Macallan while I think of everything going on in my life right now, which is a fucking lot, by the way.

  “Another one,” I ask a waiter as he passes by, and it takes him half a minute to return to my table with the bottle. He pours some more whisky into my glass and, before he can leave, I just tell him to leave the bottle.

  “Are… you sure?” he asks me hesitantly, his eyes dancing from mine to the label on the bottle.

  “Yeah, I’m sure.” I know that’s an expensive bottle, but I can afford it. I’m a fucking legend in the industry; remember that? And being a fucking legend pays handsomely.

  “Very well, sir,” the waiter says, placing the bottle down on my table and then turning on his heels. With a sigh, I take the glass to my lips and take a small sip; then, I just throw my head back and down the whole thing at once, the burning scotch settling in my stomach like fucking TNT.

  Like I told you before, I’m not that big of a drinker, but this time I really need a fucking drink. Well, drinks. I just can’t get Lana out of my fucking head. She’s in my thoughts and dreams, whether I’m asleep or awake. She has wormed her way into my mind and soul, and I simply can’t shake her off.

  Every waking minute I’m thinking of her.

  And after the conversation I had with Anders, I can’t stop feeling like a giant piece of shit. I’m falling for the most beautiful and gentle woman I’ve ever met, while at the same time I’m working behind her back, conspiring with that fucking bastard Grady.

  “Fuck,” I whisper to myself, closing my eyes and rubbing my temples, a fucking headache already brewing inside my skull. Opening my eyes, I stare at the manuscript next to the bottle, and I stare at the title for what seems like an eternity.

  Before I even know what I’m doing, I’ve already flipped the page and started reading.

  What happens next blows me out of the fucking water.

  I completely forget where I am, and the words seem to jump out of the paper and right into my mind. Why the fuck didn’t I read this before? Two glasses later and I’ve rolled up the sleeves on my button up shirt, and I’m completely devouring Lana’s book. I sit on my booth, completely oblivious to the band playing on the small stage, and I even forget about the Macallan bottle. I lose track of time, and I only stop when I read the words The End.

  Fuck.

  This book… It’s a fucking masterpiece. No wonder everyone’s going crazy about it. This is a complete game-changer. Whoever gets his hands on The Virgin Market is going to make a fucking killing. Even though the market isn’t that receptive to dark romance novels, Lana’s book is going to flip the script on that.

  Fuck, I can’t make her sign with Grady. I can’t make her give something like this on a silver platter to that fucking asshole. But I don’t have a fucking choice!

  Wait.

  Hold on.

  Maybe there’s a way out of this mess I’m in. There’s someone who can help me out: the one who has been writing my checks for these past months. You know who I’m talking about, right? None other than one of the titans in the industry, Abby Cleveland.

  I go up to my feet in a hurry and almost run toward the counter. There, I pay my tab and the bartender behind the counter hands me my helmet. Nodding my thanks at him, I rush out of the bar and make my way toward my motorcycle, parked right in front of the bar.

  I put my helmet on and jump on top of the bike, revving up the engine in a hurry. I know I’ve already had a few drinks, but this is fucking important. I need to see Abby right now. I need to show her Lana’s book, and I need to tell how important it is for her to publish it.

  If Abby agrees to publish it, then the whole thing is out of my hands. There’s nothing I can do despite his threats. And then, if he wants to ruin me with the pictures he has taken of me… Well, so fucking be it.

  I swerve in and out of New York’s traffic, making my way toward the penthouse where Abby lives in downtown Manhattan. I drive so fast it feels like I’m flying over the road, the two wheels burning the pavement under them.

  It takes me less than ten minutes to halt to a stop in front of Abby’s apartment building, a tower that seems to be reaching for the skies. Jumping off of my bike, I take off my helmet and enter the building, completely disregarding the doorman.

  He follows after me, y
elling something, but I can’t even hear what he’s saying. Right now my brain is solely focused on the task at hand.

  “Sorry, I got something I need to do,” I tell the doorman and I enter the elevator, pressing the Close Doors button multiple times before he can reach me. I give him a wink as the doors close in on me, and then I just look at the panel of the elevator completely dumbfounded and press one of the buttons randomly.

  I was in such a hurry that I didn’t even bother with checking the floor where she lives. Fuck! No matter, even if I have to knock at every single door in this building, that’s what I’ll fucking do.

  “What the…?” I mutter as I feel my phone buzzing inside my pocket, and I fish it out. There’s an unknown number blinking on the screen, and I pick up the call. “Yeah?”

  “Logan, what the hell are you doing at my apartment building?” I hear a feminine voice say from the other side of the line, and my heart starts racing as I realize it’s Abby’s voice.

  “How did you know?”

  “The doorman issued a wide warning to everyone in this building that we had an intruder. Judging by his description, I figured it could only be you. Now, care to explain what you’re doing here? Or should I just let him call the cops on you?”

  “I need to see you. It’s important,” I tell her, hoping that she notices the urgency in my voice.

  “This better be good, Logan. I’m on the top floor,” she sighs, and then ends the call without waiting for my reply. I press the round button that’s going to take the elevator all the way up and, by the time the doors swing back, Abby’s already waiting for me.

  She’s leaning against her doorway, her door open, and she’s wearing a short nightgown that hugs her perfect body in a maddening way. Lucky for her, there’s only space for one woman in my mind right now, and that woman is Lana.

  “So?” she asks me in an impatient tone, tapping one foot against the floor and looking at me with one arched eyebrow.

  Closing the distance between her and I, I push Lana’s manuscript into her hands.