My 3 Rockstar Bosses_An MFMM Menage Romance

by Katie Ford

  “Yes,” I moaned again. “Yes, this is what I want.”

  And with that my pussy dissolved into series of spasms, so hard and violent that my knees quivered, cunt clamping again and again on the dildo within. Because here I was doing the dirty with my six men again. And yes, they were paying me. They bought me an apartment, and a monthly stipend was deposited into my bank account.

  But I don’t feel ashamed. Because my lovers encourage me to reach for the best. There’s still the promise of a job with Charlie’s company in the future, but it’s more than that. They support me in every way, physically, emotionally and mentally, urging me to pursue my dreams and become the best version of myself.

  “Go back to school,” urged Tom. “When the baby’s older.”

  “You want chemistry?” added Aaron. “You want creative writing? Anything, sweetheart, whatever floats your boat.”

  “Even a Ph.D.,” was Nick’s vow. “As many degrees as you like, it’s up to you.”

  So I’m happy. More than that. I’m ecstatic, flying in the wind while floating with the breeze. Because I’ve got my six men, my daughter, and a wonderful life. If you’d asked me two years ago where I was headed, I couldn’t have said. Something about flight school and being a stewardess, mumbled hopes of this and that.

  But life never turns out like you expect, and in my case, it’s become ten times better. Beyond my wildest imagination. Because I was a stewardess on Elite … and yet the ride was only beginning.

  THE END

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  EXCLUSIVE BONUS CONTENT NEXT

  Hey Readers – I’ve got some steamy bonus content for you next. Flip the page to watch Joanie enjoy her men in THREE STEAMY DELETED SCENES.

  I know you want it! Enjoy!

  Xoxo,

  Cassie and Katie

  Serving Nuts

  ~Deleted Scene to Six Ways to Sin~

  © 2017

  By Cassandra Dee and Katie Ford

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  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Joanie

  “I thought that’s what I just did, sir?” I asked, genuinely confused.

  “No, no,” he said, that gleam in his eyes once more. “I need you to kneel down, pull that sweet little dress down to your waist, and put those nuts right between those double-D tits. I’ll snack as I get hungry.”

  I felt my blood pressure rise right then. I have never been one for swearing, but a few not-nice words nearly escaped my lips as I considered what Mr. Dawson was asking me to do. He was asking me to bare my breasts to him, to let him use them as a platter. He was going to pick nuts off of my breasts, one-by-one, while I kneeled like some servant.

  No way!

  Except, I didn’t want to lose my job. Not on my first flight. Who would hire me if I had to admit to getting fired on day one? No one, that’s who.

  So, even though my hands trembled, I managed to unzip the back of my dress, pull it over my shoulders, and expose my navy, lace bra. I kicked off my heels and knelt, hoping against hope that the skirt of my dress wouldn’t rip as my hips spread out, my knees hitting on the soft carpet of the plane floor.

  As it turned out, that skirt was far more stretchy than I realized, holding its shape even as I felt my rear spread wide, my cheeks going hot with embarrassment. Was this what all flight attendants experienced? Surely not, even on these flights for the very wealthy. Surely my other passengers would not be so demeaning.

  “Put the nuts between those luscious tits,” Mr. Dawson said, eying me hungrily and giving me the impression that it was not the nuts he wanted to eat at all. “Push them together. Show me plump, firm delicious nuts on plump, full, delicious rack of breast.”

  My face must have been bright red by that point. I had never heard a man speak like that, so boldly about my body. My body, which had always been such a love-hate issue for me. As instructed, I pushed my breasts together, placing the warm nuts in the crevice.

  “Very nice,” Mr. Dawson said, his eyes crinkling at the corner as he reached out to take just one almond. He popped it in his mouth and chewed slowly before sitting back in that comfortable chair, crossing his legs, and spreading out his paper.

  For the next half hour, Mr. Dawson snacked slowly as I kneeled in front of him. He read his paper, every so often reaching out for a nut. He never put his hands anywhere inappropriate, and he never looked at me again. I have to say I was shocked and confused about the whole thing. I just sat there, primly staring at the clouds out the window. When he finally popped the last of his nuts into his mouth, he told me I could stand and get him some coffee.

  When I went to pull my dress back up over my shoulders, he said, “Not until final descent.”

  So, I served him his coffee with my dress down to my waist. He didn’t even seem to be looking and he certainly wasn’t touching, so I had no idea what that was all about. Some sort of power play, I assumed. I was going to have to talk to my superiors about this.

  Finally, as the plane made it’s way back toward civilization, he told me to straighten up. I took that to mean I could get dressed. I took his paper and his coffee cup, pulled up and zipped my dress, and found my seat once more for landing.

  As Mr. Dawson departed the plan, he reached out to shake my hand.

  “Well done,” he said as the Captain greeted him from the cockpit door. He shook my hand and I felt a thick wad of paper there. I clung to it as he pulled away with a wink, moving to clap the pilot on the back.

  When the plane was empty, save for me as I finished prepping for the next flight, I finally looked. Mr. Dawson has handed me a two-thousand-dollar tip. I looked at the money with my mouth hanging open. This was so much money! I guess sitting on my knees with nuts between my breasts was a small price to pay for an extra bonus.

  I just hoped my next flight was a little more normal.

  Serving Champagne

  ~Deleted Scene to Six Ways to Sin~

  © 2017

  By Cassandra Dee and Katie Ford

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  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Joanie

  “I think you can do better than that,” he said, his expression amused.

  “Oh, I apologize,” I said. “What else can I get you, sir?”

  “You can get naked,” he said, his tone commanding.

  “Wh-what?” I stuttered.

  “You heard me,” he responded calmly. “I want you to serve it naked.”

  I literally trembled, standing before him, my little silver tray in my hands. Truly, it took every ounce of control I had to keep standing, to not run away and hide in the staff bathroom for the rest of the flight, faking a stomach ache.

  My stomach didn’t ache, though. Instead, just the slightest bit of desire bloomed there. It was just enough to give me the shred of confidence I needed to unzip my dress, this time all the way down, so that it fell into a blue pool on the carpeted floor.

  There I stood, with my little pillbox hat on my head, in only my black lace bra, thong, and my high-heeled, peep-toe shoes. I held my back straight – another lesson in projecting confidence, according to my aunt – even though all I wanted to do was use my arms to cover my curves.

  After a long, lingering look from Mr. Childs, he nodded.

  “Pour the champagne over that luscious body of yours,” he said. “I want to lick you clean.”

  I bit my bottom lip. Could I do this?

  As Mr. Childs raised an eyebrow as if to remind me that he was the client here, that I was here to ser
ve him, I reached over and took the champagne flute from the table. With a trembling hand, I poured that sweet, bubbly liquid over my breasts. I felt it run down my chest and belly, down in to soak my lace panties, down my legs and into my shoes.

  “Step closer,” Mr. Childs commanded.

  As I obeyed, he reached out and put his hands on my bare backside, smiling just slightly. He pulled my lower half toward himself, his mouth opening as he leaned in to suck the champagne from between my legs.

  Nudging my panties aside with his mouth, his tongue licked at my bare, wet pussy. I gasped, loudly, my nerves going haywire. This only made him more excited, and his lapping became more intense. I felt the buildup of orgasm as his tongue flicked at my champagne-soaked clit, and I found myself disappointed when he pulled away, licking the insides of my thighs, then moving back up to my belly.

  When he pulled the lace of my bra away, exposing my heavy breasts, he gave me a snake’s smile. His tongue washed away the champagne, his teeth nipped at my taut nipples. I cried out again, partially surprised, confused, and aroused.

  Mr. Childs laved every bit of champagne from my nearly naked body, his mouth talented and thirsty. So thirsty, in fact, that he asked for another glass of champagne that he had me pour over myself once more, but only after taking a sip. He kissed my lips for the first time, savoring the sweet liquid there before working down my body once more.

  He buried his face in my cunt for the second time, his tongue licking at the folds, exploring the slick hole, sucking on the tiny budded clit. But he never let me come. He licked and sucked, bit and teased, and I cried out because I was so close that I no longer cared that this was way over the line of professionalism. I didn’t care that he was a stranger. I only cared about how his tongue felt all over my body.

  “Your cunt tastes good,” he said as he finally pulls away, his face wet from champagne and saliva and my own juices. “Grab me a warm towel.”

  Dazed and aching, my clit painfully enlarged and the need to come making it nearly impossible to walk, I somehow managed to waddle to the galley kitchen, where I prepared a hot towel to present to Mr. Childs.

  He wiped his face and handed back the towel just as the Captain announced our final descent. I pulled on my dress, my body sticky from the champagne, and nearly fell into my seat.

  My cheeks burned as Mr. Childs exited, thanking the pilot for a smooth landing. He reached out to shake my hand and there, again, was a wad of cash. I put it in my pocket and wished him a good day, watching his fit figure bound down the stairs to a waiting limousine.

  The weight of the wad of bills in my pocket drove me crazy as I cleaned the kitchen and straightened the cabin. I worried about the champagne on the carpet, so much so that I asked Elite Air to steam clean the carpets before the next flight.

  I knew what it was before I even counted. Two-thousand dollars.

  Twin Fun

  ~Deleted Scene to Six Ways to Sin~

  © 2017

  By Cassandra Dee and Katie Ford

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  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Joanie

  But Joanie soldiered ahead.

  “So what can I do to make your flight more pleasurable?” she inquired, hands demurely folded in front of that simple navy dress.

  “You can give us a striptease,” I said, smiling as I sat back in my cahir with my arms behind my head. My brother laughed in response as he watched the pink in her cheeks deepen even further.

  She’d been through Damien and Charlie, and god only knows what they had already asked her to do. A striptease shouldn’t have been any big thing at all. But little Joanie’s blush spread from her cheeks to her chest. I would have bet money that her tits went pink, too, and I’d have given anything to see it in that moment.

  She seemed to steel herself for a moment before she stood tall, her eyes closing as her hips began to sway. She moved to some unheard music, moving her body smoothly, hands lifting to her head, her little hat the first to be unpinned and tossed to the floor. She followed by undoing her braids, and when she was through, her hair fell in sexy waves down past the middle of her back. Gorgeous.

  She’d obviously had a little bit of practice getting her dress unzipped, as she reached back and had it down in a hot second, turning slowly so that we could see the skin she’d bared, creamy and white, her red bra a pop of color against a blank canvas.

  She dipped, her head going down, her ass in the air, wide, stretching against the fabric of her skirt. When she stood back up, still moving, she pulled the top of the dress from her shoulders, baring more of that smooth, porcelain skin.

  I thought I might cream myself immediately when she let the rest of the dress fall away. It slipped to the floor, just a whisper of fabric as her abundant ass bared just the tiniest bit of lace to cover her crack.

  “My mouth is watering,” Andrew said.

  “Mmmhmmm,” I agreed as we were hypnotized by that swaying rear.

  When Joanie turned, her eyes were still closed.

  “Look at us, beautiful,” I said.

  She opened her eyes, still moving, pushing her hands over her head as she shimmied and dipped to whatever music must have been playing in her pretty head.

  “Come closer, Joanie,” my brother said.

  As Joanie made her way toward my brother, he unsheathed his cock, which had been tenting his suit pants. He stroked himself as she danced in front of him, wide-eyed.

  “You like the look of my meat?” Andrew asked.

  Joanie bit her bottom lip, her eyes worried. But she nodded. Affirmative.

  “Ever had a cock like this inside of that sweet pussy?” he asked.

  A shake of the head.

  “Ever had any cock inside that sweet pussy?” I asked.

  Another shake of the head. Score. Hail Mary, full of grace. A virgin for the spoiling.

  “Joanie,” my brother coaxed, “come give me a lap dance.”

  She hesitated a moment, looking back and forth between the two of us. When she stepped to straddle Andrew’s lap, her cheeks went pink once more.

  Andrew must have read my mind, because he pulled those heavy tits out of that bright red bra and exposed that flushed skin to eager eyes and, it seemed, a hungry mouth. Andrew couldn’t stop himself, his lips closing on one luscious pink nipple without preamble.

  Young Joanie’s knees buckled a little, and that cunt, covered only by the barest scrap of red fabric, dipping against my brother’s hard dick. This made the flight attendant gasp and lose her balance a bit.

  Never good at waiting my turn, I decided to help her manage her balance while my brother’s hands and mouth worked against those huge breasts. I pulled my twin cock from my pants as I approached, rubbing it hard before resting it in the crevice of the brunette’s ass as my hands rested on her hips.

  She sagged against me a bit as my fingers snaked down into her panties, finding her bud swollen and pulsing, her lips covered with sweet juices already.

  “Responsive,” I said in her ear, giving it a nip. “That’s a good girl, Joanie. You like how this feels, don’t you?”

  “Unnnnhhh,” she responded, an inarticulate moan that was assuredly affirmative.

  “I can tell you like it,” I said. “But I need a word, Joanie. I need a yes.”

  “Yes, yes,” she breathed, pushing her hips forward, into my touch.

  I pushed two fingers inside her sweet hole, so tight and wet and warm as my brother continued his buffet at her tits. He looked up long enough to meet my eyes, his dark with lust and approval of this gorgeous brunette. I could practically read his mind – we were going to make a slut of this curvy beauty.

  We switched, then, my hands moving to those creamy, heavy breasts, my fingers tweaking her sensitive nipples as she gasped, my brother slipping down into his chair so that he could bury his f
ace between her legs. She spread for him, her legs quivering as he sucked and licked at her sensitive core.

  Joanie’s moans and gasps alone were enough to get us hard, but her responsiveness was what got us really excited. She totally gave herself over to us, totally trusted her amazing body to us.

  “Let’s take this to the bed,” I said to Andrew when he came up for air.

  He nodded, using the back of his hand to wipe her juices from his face, a wicked grin on his face.

  Joanie blinked a few times, coming out of a haze of lust and pleasure, as I said, “Let’s explore a little more back in the bedroom.”

  I guided the dazed beauty toward the back of the plane, my brother salivating behind us. Inside the bedroom, the brunette stiffened. Her eyes were wide, her cheeks pink, as she turned to look at us.