Four Billionaires for St. Patrick's Day: An MFMMM Menage Reverse Harem Romance

by Sierra Sparks

  “Oh, you’d be surprised about the reasons a man would want to purchase a lady’s company,” Amy had explained. “In such a scenario, both parties might be willing to do things they never would have thought acceptable otherwise. The financial transaction brings all sorts of possibilities into play.”

  I have to admit that that answer had fucking intrigued me. I decided it couldn’t hurt to show up and see what it was all about. Amy had informed us that girls interested in the auction would be sitting in the same section as her on the slopes, and that we should see if there are any we’re interested in. If so, they’d be invited to come to the restaurant where The Exchange Club was holding the auction.

  “Well, I liked the curvy blonde in the second row,” I tell Gerald and Kevin now. “She couldn’t seem to keep her eyes off me. And I guess the feeling was mutual.”

  “Awww, man,” Gerald groans. “The one with the curls sticking out of her little headband? And those baby blue eyes?”

  “That would be her.” Apparently I had chosen a real looker— Kevin was nodding his head as if he, too, knew exactly who we were talking about.

  “She was my favorite, too,” Kevin admits.

  “Well, geez.” I sigh.

  Just my luck. Not only do I fail to win gold, but I’m going to be fighting over the girl I’d gotten excited about inviting to the Exchange Club.

  “There were some other good ones,” Gerald says, always one to try to make peace. “Her friend was cute. They were all cute.”

  “Yeah,” Kevin admits. “I guess that was a prerequisite to Amy inviting them.”

  Suddenly, we’re approached by a man wearing a suit. “Amy requests to know which girls you would like invited to the Exchange,” he says.

  “Well, we liked all of them,” Gerald says. “But it seems we all have a preference for the blonde with blue eyes. Her friend is also good, and I assume she’d want to be invited too. And maybe a third one since there are three of us.”

  “Yeah,” Kevin agrees. “You can just pick from the others; it doesn’t matter.”

  It’s clear we all have our sights set on the same girl, and none other come close.

  “I just hope there are no hard feelings,” I say.

  “Gentlemen, there’s no need to fight,” the man says. “There are plenty of women to go around. And hopefully plenty of money for bidding, too, because those same two girls have been in high demand today, in terms of requests for invitations.”

  “Aww, man,” I groan. I had forgotten that there were others on the team—and others invited to the Exchange Club—aside from just us. “We make good money from sponsorships but we’re not rolling in the dough.”

  How would I ever compete with guys who are richer than me? I wondered.

  “Well, you could always agree to pitch in the money, and share,” the man said, with a mysterious nod, before he walks away.

  “What the fuck did he just say?” I ask.

  “It appears he suggested we share our favorite girl,” Kevin says. “Can you believe it?”

  “I guess it’s not such a bad idea,” Gerald says. “We all like her best. And we might not even have enough money to buy a girl each.”

  I stare at him, dumbfounded that he’s considering it. And yet, I realize they have some good points.

  “Yeah, we don’t know how much money we’re talking here,” Kevin says.

  Hmmm. They’re my best friends. My team mates. My training partners. My support network. I’ve shared everything with them except a girl.

  On the one hand, I can’t imagine passing around that sweet little curvy ass. I remember how she looked at me and how much I wanted to take her. On the other hand, if it meant sharing her was the only way, I would make that compromise just to have her.

  Plus, as Amy had pointed out, the financial transaction part of the deal made things interesting. Normally a girl would probably think I was a freak or a creep if I wanted to have an orgy of sorts. But for money? Why not? It seemed a reasonable request… the type of thing that money could buy.

  “Let’s just see what happens,” Kevin suggests, as we head out of the locker room and get ready to go to the restaurant. “This will be nothing if not exciting.”

  Nothing if not exciting, indeed.

  Chapter 4 – Melissa

  I follow Sheila and Amy to the Hanwootown, which turns out to be a pretty chill hole in the wall type of restaurant and bar. Local musicians are playing a modernized version of traditional Korean folk music, or “trot.”

  Also, there are plenty of options for delicious local cuisine: Kimchi (Fermented Vegetable), Ddukbokkie (Spicy Rice Cake), Bibimbap (Mixed Rice), Hoeddeok (Sweet Syrupy Pancakes), Bulgogi (Marinated Beef Barbecue) and Japchae (Stir Fried Noodles).

  Sheila doesn’t know what half the menu means, nor does she know what type of music is being played, so I explain it all to her, thanks to the South Korea culture course I’d taken before we arrived in the country. I don’t think Sheila has ever been to this restaurant. She had probably only heard of it vaguely and was probably just guessing at what kind of place it was.

  “Why hello there,” says a voice behind us, and I turn around to see Martin Schmidt, up close and personal.

  My heart starts fluttering as I look into his handsome brown eyes and then even more so as I lower them to his toned, strong looking chest. I can practically feel juices dripping out of my pussy, as it clenches together and begs him to do something to relieve its tension.

  “Oh my God, it’s you,” I say. He’s even hotter in person. But I can’t believe I just let on to how hot I think he is. So, I follow up with a quick, “Hi. Hello. I’m Melissa.”

  “Hi Melissa.”

  He’s with two guys who are nearly as handsome as he is, and he introduces me to them as Gerald and Kevin. Kevin has kind eyes and Gerald’s smile is dashing. I’m beginning to feel as if I’m cheating on Martin by admiring his friends. Which makes no sense, since we’re not together.

  “I’m Sheila,” Sheila says, elbowing me and no doubt intending that not so subtle signal to mean, Pull yourself together. Or maybe, Make room for me. Don’t forget about me—introduce me too. Probably some combination of both.

  But I can’t stop staring at Martin’s muscles. On his arms, his legs, and even his abs and chest, through his shirt. He’s so hot that he sells me on the benefits of athleticism. He smells like snow mixed with pine mixed with Soju— Korean liquor.

  “I ordered you these drinks,” he says, and passes two martini glasses to us.

  The drinks are neon green, and the glasses are very large.

  “Thanks,” I say, and Sheila and I eye each other, still not knowing who the note was intended for.

  Maybe both of us, by the looks of things.

  I start to sip my drink, but Martin quickly says, “Let’s drink in the enclosed rooftop bar, shall we? We can take a walk around up there, and talk where it isn’t so loud.”

  “Sure,” I quickly say, even though I was enjoying the music.

  But I’m enjoying the view of Martin a heck of a lot more.

  When we’re on the rooftop bar, it becomes quite clear that this is where the auction will be held. There’s a stage, and Amy is running around getting the microphone and speakers set up.

  “This is the rest of the team,” Martin says, his hand outstretched to include everyone. “They all wanted to meet you guys.”

  “Hi there,” says Sheila, but I just blush.

  How could they want to meet us? I think. This is crazy.

  I tell my head to shut up while my body takes over. I nod my head, smile, and say, “Hi” as well.

  “So, what are you guys doing in Pyeongchang?” Gerald asks us.

  “Studying,” Sheila answers, looking bored.

  “Studying what?” Kevin asks.

  “Journalism. And the South Korean economy,” I answer.

  “Interesting,” Kevin says, and he does look genuinely interested. “What topic, specifically?”


  “Well, lately I’ve been researching why, despite the fact that the Korean economy was able to gain strength in the 60s and 70s, its growth has been impeded,” I answer.

  “Ugh, there you go slipping into nerd mode,” Sheila complains.

  “Hey,” Kevin says, cutting her off. “I want to hear what she’s saying.”

  “Me too,” Gerald joins in, and Martin is nodding his head enthusiastically as well.

  Sheila doesn’t interrupt again, but she sighs and acts annoyed. I know she’s just bothered that I’m getting all the attention. I have to admit that it feels good to have three pairs of eyes on me, three pairs of ears hanging onto every word.

  They seem to enjoy sharing me. And I’m starting to think I enjoy it, too. A girl could get used to having three guys all to herself— that’s for sure.

  Chapter 5 – Gerald

  I stare at Melissa, captivated at how her bright blue eyes sparkle as she explains her project. She’s obviously very passionate about it, which is a turn on. My cock grows hard in my pants as she talks.

  “And what are your theories into why that happened?” I ask her, wanting to see her full lips open as she talked more.

  “Well, it’s not really up to me to come up with the theories, but instead present them,” she explains. “But, from the economists I’ve talked to here, it seems there are several theories. Or, more likely, a combination of all of them.”

  Now, she looks over to her friend, who appears bored.

  “Are you sure you want to hear them?” Melissa asks me. “This stuff can be like watching paint dry, for people who aren’t into it.”

  “I’m into it,” I assure her, although really I mean I’m into her. And I’d like to be in her. “Please, tell me.”

  “Some say the Korean economy was prone to inflation and that at the pertinent time, policy makers were more concerned with growth than inflation. During the time period from 1960 to 1980, Korea experienced an average annual inflation rate of 16-17 percent, which was higher than any other East Asian country. And others say that during this same time period, Korea’s economic performance was hindered by its large deficit.”

  “That’s impressive,” I tell her. “You really know your stuff.”

  She shakes her head, her blonde curls bouncing just like I’m sure her breasts are doing if I could see them underneath her winter coat, and laughs. “I’m just a nerd, as Sheila says.

  “Oh, don’t listen to her,” I tease. “What does she know?”

  I lean back against a barrister, finally completely at ease. I was tense during the half pipe, afraid that Martin wouldn’t medal. He has been training so damn hard. Me, I’m on my way out of this sport— I won gold in the half pipe and silver in slopestyle four years ago in Sochi, and now I’m just hoping for bronze on slopestyle tomorrow, myself. I took it easy on the half pipe because I didn’t want injury or exhaustion to derail me tomorrow. But I still ended up coming in fifth place— not too fucking shabby.

  I was so proud for my boy Martin, though. He sure deserved that silver medal— if not gold. I know he’s disappointed he didn’t get gold but silver is a great showing for his first time in the Olympics. Due to his beaten ego, though, I’m hoping he gets gold tomorrow. Kevin has a good shot at silver, even though he seems to doubt that it’s within his reach. I’ve been telling him to just relax and not doubt himself, and he’ll do fine.

  Now, though, I’m looking at the girl that both of us like and wondering if we could really share her, just for one night— just for tonight. I imagine her eating my cock while my buddies have their way with her pussy, and then we could switch off.

  Yeah, I guess I could do that. It’s not my normal style but it might be a fun way to celebrate our closeness as a team and our individual victories. And it’s not like there’s any other girl here I’d like to spend money to be with. Melissa’s friend is too much of a bitch to her for me to find her at all attractive. Luckily, right now she’s off talking to some other guy. They can have her. I want Melissa. And apparently, so do my friends, so I’ll have to do the right thing and learn to share.

  “Hello,” a voice beams into the microphone, and I look up—along with everyone else—to see Amy’s petite frame standing in front of the mic, in the middle of a large stage that makes her look even smaller. “Thank you for coming to The Exchange Club’s winter auction. I would like our lovely ladies to come up here under the heat lamps, warm up and then let’s get started, shall we?”

  I exchange curious, excited glances with Kevin and Martin. Both of them look as ready for this as I am. Hell, it might help Martin release enough nervous, pent up energy that he’ll win gold in slopestyle tomorrow. And Kevin can get silver if he just gets out of his head for a bit and lets go of his own fears.

  As Melissa gives us a shy grin and heads over to the stage, I can’t help but announce, “Yes, we shall.”

  It looks like tonight is going to be just the party we need.

  Chapter 6 – Melissa

  I climb the stairs up to the stage, holding hands with Sheila. Suddenly I feel vulnerable, with so many eyes in the audience on me. What if Martin doesn’t bid on me, or doesn’t win the bid? Or either of his friends?

  I’m having such conflicting feelings. I was initially so attracted to Martin, and still am. But then when I met Gerald and Kevin, I realized I’m attracted to them, too. And they all three seem very attracted to me physically, if not downright into me emotionally as well.

  How could this even be? I wonder.

  It almost feels like that old saying “love at first sight.” Except, that’s only supposed to happen between a woman and one man, right? I have never been so puzzled as I am now. All I know is that I wouldn’t mind if any of those three men bought me at this auction, but I want it to be one of them— not some stranger I’ve never even met.

  Although I just met Martin, Gerald and Kevin, I feel as if it was much longer ago than this. As if I’ve somehow known them for a very long time.

  “All right everyone, welcome to the Exchange Club Auction, Olympic edition,” Amy says, into the microphone, as some of the men in the audience laugh at the “Olympic edition” part of her description, and as all of us ladies take the stage. “I hope you liked all the delicious food in the restaurant down below. Up here on the rooftop, it’s a much more private affair. And, this is kind of an informal auction compared to the ones that The Exchange Club usually puts on. Pretty much, due to the festive sprit, anything goes.”

  She throws her hands up in the air and smiles, and the crowd goes wild, clapping and cheering about the good news. My heart races and I wonder what lays ahead for me tonight.

  “Now, I know we have some interest in the ladies up here on stage or they would not be here,” Amy says, and some people in the crowd laugh. “So, let’s go ahead and start it out by finding out just who is interested in who. Do we have any questions or requests before the bidding starts?

  “Yes,” Martin says, stepping confidently forward. “My two teammates here and I have a special request.”

  He gestures towards Gerald and Kevin and my panties get soaked. I love how take charge and in control he is. I just wonder what it is he’s going to ask.

  “Okay, and what would that be?” Amy asks, encouragingly.

  “We were wondering if we could see you topless,” Martin says, not at all bashfully.

  He addresses his request to a general “you” while gesturing at what could be anyone on the stage. But I swear he is looking straight at me while he says it.

  “Topless?” I sputter, spitting out some of the drink I had just swallowed. I’m so nervous I think I might drop my martini glass.

  “Yes.”

  Everyone is looking at us. These men clearly used to getting what they want.

  Amy shrugs and says, “Why not? I did just say ‘anything goes.’ You’re already half undressed already—” most of us have left our coat racks in the coat room downstairs in the restaurant, and some have shed layers of swea
ters and scarves and have them littered around the different tables and bar tops we had all just been congregating around before coming up on stages— “and the heat lamps here will keep you plenty warm.

  “Why not?” I can’t help but demand, feeling incredulous at this suggestion and Amy’s practical manner of agreeing with it. “Well, for starters, won’t we get arrested? For like, public indecency or something?”

  Everyone looks straight at me now— some of the girls have their mouths hanging open, shocked that I’d argue with what we’re being asked to do. But Martin is wiggling his eyebrows at me, as if he likes my style.

  “Look, everyone,” I quickly add. “I hate to be the party pooper, but I also don’t want to end up in jail in a foreign country, you know.”

  Now it’s some of the audience members’ turns to nod their heads at me and realize there’s merit to what I’m saying. But it’s also Martin’s turn to shrug.

  “Oh, come on,” he says, taking me up on the challenge I’d issued. “This is the Olympics. And we’re Olympic athletes. Known for having a fun time. Who’s going to arrest us?”

  Score one point for Martin. I guess we’re back to being even.

  He stares back at me, as if these statements are supposed to say all I need to know. And I guess they do. Because they’re all true, and I surmise he thinks that the local police will leave the athletes alone.

  “Look,” says Gerald, stepping in. “I really think everything will be okay. But also, we don’t want you having to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

  “I mean, we are paying them for it,” Kevin reminds him.

  Sheila has had enough of the debate. She’s already taking her top off.

  “Remember what I told you earlier?” she reminds me. “About letting loose and having more fun?”

  “I remember,” I sigh.

  “Very nice,” says one of the men, nodding approvingly at Sheila. Needing no further encouragement, she starts to take her bra off too.