Bobbi Jo in Ecstasy [Siren Publishing Ménage Amour]

by Robin Gideon

  “Uh!” Bobbi Jo gasped, the breath gushing from her lungs as Caleb’s cock plunged full-length into her. When he was completely buried in her, he ground his pelvis against hers, and it heightened the pressure against her clit.

  I’ve come twice already. How many times am I going to come before he’s finished with me?

  It was a tantalizing question to consider, but when Caleb started churning his hips, pumping that bone-hard cock of his in and out of her slick cunt, she was incapable of coherent thoughts.

  She’d never been fucked quite like this before. Having her hands above her head and pinned together as though some madman had tied her up and was now plundering her body, was as erotic as any fantasy Bobbi Jo had ever experienced. And the force that Caleb used to plow his big cock into her caused her entire body to rock on the cushions of the sofa. Each time he slammed home, the breath was expelled from her lungs, and though she tried to be as quiet as possible because Jacob slept in a nearby room with the door open, each collision of pelvis to pelvis caused a small gasp to be forced from her throat.

  Caleb was leaning over her, his left hand like a steel band around her wrists. His right was on the sofa. Bobbi Jo looked up into his face, and saw the strain and exertion of his sexual labors etched there. But he wasn’t looking at her face. Instead, his gaze, hot as blazing coals, was on her breasts as they trembled and swayed, reacting to the harshness of each invading thrust.

  I’ll bet he wants to fuck my tits, then come on my face.

  The thought shocked Bobbi Jo, since that was something she’d never allowed any lover to do. One lover had asked to give her a facial, and she had made it clear that if he ever asked to do such a sick thing again, he’d never touch her again.

  But she had the thought, and it was so wickedly arousing the next thing she said was, “I’m going to come again.”

  Considering the importance of the sentence, she spoke the words with astonishing nonchalance.

  She was trembling through her climax when Caleb thrust a final time into her, and then released a torrent of cum deep inside her.

  Chapter 6

  Jacob awoke the next morning distinctly aware of precisely where each boot came in contact with his ribs. His head, oddly enough, didn’t really hurt much unless he touched it, though he still had a good-sized lump to indicate where bottle met skull.

  Some son of a bitch is going to wish like hell he’d never jumped me, Jacob thought as he eased his legs over the side of the bed, and then down onto the floor. Very slowly, he rose to his feet. There were a couple seconds of wooziness, but it passed quickly and without any lingering side effects.

  He walked to the bedroom door. The mass of honey blonde hair on his sofa let him know that Bobbi Jo was still with him, and still sleeping. Why hadn’t she slept in one of his guest bedrooms? After the nursing—and other entertainments—she’d provided for him, the least she deserved was a decent bedroom all to herself.

  Turning away, he went to his personal bathroom, the one off his bedroom, and looked at himself in the mirror. The bandage around his head made him look like a war survivor. Very carefully, he unwound the bandage, and discovered that the lump was still tender but not pulsating with pain.

  He touched his ribs. If anything, he felt stiffer this morning than he did last night. He guessed that was to be expected, and decided to keep the elasticized bandage around his ribs for at least a couple days. He intended to take four aspirins with his breakfast.

  He dressed slowly, in deference to his ribs. Well-washed jeans, white socks with jogging shoes, and an old cotton shirt completed his attire. He might go to the office, but he sure as hell wasn’t putting on his suit, and certainly not a necktie.

  Silently, he walked into the living room, hoping to find Bobbi Jo still sleeping. Instead, she was sitting up, and had put on her blouse and skirt. He noticed immediately that she hadn’t rolled the shirt’s tails up, then tied them in a knot between her breasts to form a sexy halter top.

  I should probably say something about last night, he thought. But what the hell does one say to the girl who delivered a world class blow job without even being asked to, then toddles off to the living room to sleep alone on the sofa? I’ve been around the block enough time to know that women always want something. And nothing has more invisible strings attached to it than an un-asked-for blow job.

  “Good morning.” She gave him a sunny smile, and smoothed her hair away from her face with both hands. The move reminded Jacob she wasn’t wearing a bra beneath the blouse, and his body responded immediately. He might be battered and beaten, but he was still very much alive—and virile. “You seemed to have slept well.”

  “I did.”

  “I checked in on you a couple times. When I heard you snoring real softly I knew you were getting better.”

  She rose to her feet and, in doing so, caused her breasts to bobble tautly. He wished like hell he was back in his bed, and he had Bobbi Jo with him. He’d been entirely on the receiving end of sexual attention, and he’d like the chance to even the score with Bobbi Jo. 1Lay her out on the middle of his bed, all sexy and naked, and then he’d slowly start nibbling, licking, caressing, and fingering. By the time she’d had three or four climaxes and she was panting heavily, it would then be time for him to get down to some serious lovemaking.

  “Can you please drive me back to Wings & Things? I left my car there last night.”

  “Of course I can. It would be my pleasure.”

  Bobbi Jo slipped on her stilettos, and when she did, she bent far forward, giving him a brief view of her breasts pressing against her knees. It was just a glimpse, but enough for Jacob to want to see more. A lot more.

  * * * *

  “I’m what?” Bobbi Jo exclaimed.

  “You’re fired. You left last night without a word to anyone. I don’t take that kind of crap from anyone, and I sure as hell won’t take it from you.”

  The owner seemed pretty happy with himself. He had on occasion “accidentally” rubbed up against Bobbi Jo, and whenever he did, she always twisted her face into an ugly expression and said “yuck!” loudly enough so that the other waitresses would know what happened.

  Looking into his rheumy eyes, Bobbi Jo could now tell just how much it bothered him that she belittled him for touching her.

  “I’m sorry,” she heard herself say. “It won’t happen again.” She felt the tears burning in her eyes, waiting to be shed. “I promise. It’ll never happen again.”

  “You little bitch,” the old man said slowly, letting his gaze rake lasciviously up and down over Bobbi Jo. “Always too fucking good for the likes of me, and now you’re begging for a job. Well, that’s just too fucking bad for you. Now get out of here.”

  * * * *

  Bobbi Jo felt as though someone had swept the world out from beneath her feet. She had plans—short-range plans and long-range plans, and all of them counted on her working at Wings & Things had making good money from tips from the oil rig workers. Show some thigh and cleavage, and then take the tips straight to the bank.

  She could probably get another job, but whatever it was, it wouldn’t pay nearly as much as waitressing at Wings & Things. Her best friends, Ariel and Angela, worked for a law firm, and even though they were making a lot more in South Williston as law clerks than if they were in Boston, they still didn’t make as much as she did.

  This could set her plans to leave Williston, travel the world, and then settle down somewhere to get an education, back. Back by years, if luck wasn’t at all with her.

  “Damn,” she whispered, sitting on the bedroom floor of her rented room. “Damn, damn, damn.”

  * * * *

  Jacob looked at the owner of Wings & Things and reminded himself that violence very rarely accomplishes anything positive. Instead of clenching his hand into a fist, he reached into the front pocket of his jeans and extracted a wad of twenty, fifty, and hundred dollar bills.

  The owner’s eyes got round, and his lips parted. Jacob
wondered if he’d actually start drooling, like a hungry dog eyeing a meal. It didn’t happen, but if it had, it wouldn’t have surprised him.

  He counted out four hundred dollars. The old man reached for the money.

  “You’re to offer her two hundred to come back to work. There’s four hundred here. If she’s not back on duty tonight, I’m going to build a restaurant just like this one, and I’m going to put pretty girls in pretty little dresses, just like you do. Then I’m going to undercut your prices on everything. I’ll sell beer at half your price. Mixed drinks at a quarter your price. How long do you think it’ll take for you to run flat out of money?”

  “But you’d be losin’ money too!”

  Jacob smiled. It was an expression of cruelty. “But I’ve got lots and lots of money. I’ve got money to burn. That’s a luxury you don’t have, now do you?” He handed over the money. “One more thing. From this point forward the Culver brothers aren’t allowed into Wings & Things. Never, ever again.”

  “Yes, sir. Whatever you say, sir.” He was counting and recounting the bills that Jacob had given him.

  * * * *

  Bobbi Jo bent at the waist, leaning close to the bathroom mirror, and applied lipstick.

  “You’re not making any sense,” Ariel said, looking at her own reflection in the mirror, touching up her artfully disarrayed hair. “You said you were going to work until you have enough money, then you’re going to travel the world before settling down. Last time I checked, you didn’t exactly have a million in the bank.”

  “She’s right, you know,” Angela said crossing her arms beneath her breasts. “You’re just not ready to leave Williston.”

  Bobbi Jo wondered if Angela did that to make her breasts look larger, which seemed sort of ridiculous since she was already magnificently endowed in the tit department. At least, Bobbi Jo thought so.

  “Maybe I’ve just changed my mind? Can’t a girl change her mind?” She put her hands on her hips, and then looked around the women’s restroom at Wings & Things. “Ariel, this is where I caught you getting it on with those boys.”

  Ariel, with her very fair complexion and dusting of freckles, blushed and ran fingers through her luxuriant strawberry-blonde hair. “I certainly hadn’t planned for that to happen. It’s just that once it got started, I seemed to be completely powerless to stop it.” She smiled sheepishly. “Now the four of us are one big, happy family.”

  “Unconventional as hell,” Bobbi Jo said.

  “But happy as hell,” Ariel shot back.

  “I didn’t mean for you to catch us, and I sure didn’t mean for you to watch us going at it, but those men of mine can light a fire inside me that burns so hot that putting any kind of a delay on their loving is simply not in the cards.”

  Bobbi Jo closed her eyes, remembered the confusion and desire she experienced when she watched her good friend fucking and sucking three men right there in the bathroom where she stood right now.

  “That kind of thing might be right for you two—each of you having three men a piece all to yourselves—but it just wouldn’t be right for me.”

  “How do you know?” Ariel asked quickly. Her tone of voice wasn’t confrontational. “You’ve never tried it. You think it wouldn’t be right for you. It might be absolutely perfect for you, but you just won’t give it a chance. You won’t even keep an open mind. Imagine how much pleasure I would have lost in my life if I’d kept my mind completely closed, like you do. How horrible would that have been?”

  “I don’t want to talk about this,” Bobbi Jo said sharply, turning away from the mirror. “I have to get back to work. I’m lucky enough that that bastard hired me back on. He even gave me a hundred dollars if I’d come back today.”

  * * * *

  Caleb and Jacob had spent all morning talking. They went over the robbery time and time again. There didn’t seem to be any witnesses. The whole thing—from the time Jacob got whacked over the head with an empty liquor bottle to the time his wallet and wristwatch were stolen—probably only took a couple seconds. Maybe add a few more seconds to introduce cowboy boots to his ribs, but that still wouldn’t add much time.

  “Any ideas at all on who did it?” Caleb asked.

  “I didn’t see anything. And as for enemies, how many do you think we’ve made over the years? Old Man Husker still says we cheated him out of his land.”

  “He sold it to us fair and square. As I recall, he was one happy old dude when he signed over the deed to us.”

  “Of course, three years later we did find oil on that land.”

  Caleb tried without success to not smile as he turned his Cadillac Escalade into the parking lot of Wings & Things.

  “Every once in a while your hunches work out damned nicely for us. Damned nicely, indeed.”

  He got out and watched as his older brother disembarked very slowly.

  If I ever get my hands on the sons of bitches who did that to him, I’m going to break ever bone in their fucking bodies, he thought. I won’t call the sheriff. I’ll see that justice is delivered all by myself.

  He saw Bobbi Jo near the bar. She wasn’t wearing a miniskirt, for which he was thankful. And she wasn’t wearing her shirt as a halter top—one more thing that he was grateful for. Instead, she was wearing a shorter-than-short pair of denim cut-offs, and a tighter-than-tight white cotton shirt. Her breasts were still on display even though she wore a bra, but at least her midriff wasn’t exposed, Caleb decided, with a certain sense of annoyance, that he didn’t want to pay too much attention to how she appeared.

  Bobbi Jo’s a girl, and I’ve had a thousand girls in my life, he thought. She’s just one of many…goddamnit!

  It was the idea that went through his head next that stopped him dead in his tracks.

  But none like her, he thought. You’ve had hustlers and hangers-on and all sorts of women who want something from you because you’re rich, but she didn’t want a damn thing from you, and she made that clear from the very beginning. Damn, she’s different.

  Caleb closed his eyes and begged his mind to please—please, please, please—shut the fuck up. These were questions he wasn’t equipped either intellectually or emotionally to answer right now, and he knew it.

  She had gone home and gotten cleaned up, Caleb decided, looking at Bobbi Jo as she helped other customers. She’s got panties on now.

  He closed his eyes. In the front pocket of his trousers were her panties from last night. They were torn at both hips. The fabric had given way to his greater strength when he could no longer tolerate the cloth barrier between himself and his goal—her pussy. He had forcefully removed a woman’s panties before, but he’d never ripped a pair off a woman. Not until Bobbi Jo inspired such barbaric behavior.

  Jacob would hate my guts if he knew what I’d done to her last night, he thought. She protected him, and I took advantage of her. What a shit I am!

  “You’re here!”

  The sound of Bobbi Jo’s voice, from several feet away, was as beautiful and magical as anything Caleb had ever heard. He was glad to be pulled out of his own thoughts. They were leading him to places, and conclusions, that he didn’t want to experience.

  “I’m so glad to see you!” She hurried forward and sighed expressively. “You wouldn’t believe what’s happened today. First I get fired, then I get hired back—and do you know what? That jerk gave me a hundred dollars if I’d work today!—and now I’m working a double shift so I’m going to be standing in heels until the cows come home. Or until one o’clock tonight. Whichever comes first, I guess.”

  “You’re doing okay?” Caleb kept his voice low.

  When she looked into his eyes, he knew she understood what he was alluding to, but couldn’t ask directly.

  There were other people around, so Bobbi Jo said simply, “Isn’t it a beautiful day?”

  Caleb felt a surge of relief go through his soul. He had been forceful and dominating with Bobbi Jo, and he’d known she’d enjoyed his domination, but there were
times when a woman’s opinion changed after the fact. He was grateful—a thousand times more than just grateful—that she was satisfied with his manhandling of her.

  “Can I get you a booth?” Bobbi Jo asked.

  “Of course,” Caleb said. Then, more quietly, “Something with a little privacy.”

  His gaze met with Bobbi Jo’s, and when it did, she caught her lower lip between her teeth. Caleb instantly felt his cock begin to harden.

  “Perhaps, the sooner we get to the booth,” he said, “the better.”

  While it’s true he found his cock a source of great amusement, he wasn’t entirely certain his joy should be shared with the entire community. Some people just didn’t appreciate a really big, hard erection.

  Chapter 7

  Bobbi Jo was so glad that she’d chosen caution to be her guide. After getting fired, she went home, showered for a full thirty minutes, and then put on a matching set of bra and panties from Victoria’s Secret. They were a pretty set, white and lacy, and she’d splurged by spending the money for them. Now she was especially glad she did. She felt pretty in them, and this was a time when she needed to feel especially pretty. Not cheap and tawdry. Pretty and feminine and ladylike. Not like a cheap waitress shaking her boobs to get bigger tips for the wings and beer she delivered. Her panties were bikini, not thong. She had decided that the difference, under the circumstances, made a particular difference.

  She was just sitting down for a good cry—she deserved it, she figured, after the things she did to Jacob, the things Caleb did to her, and the pleasure she experienced but shouldn’t have in both circumstances—when her jackass boss called her on her cell and not only offered her the lucrative waitressing job back, but even said he’d give her one hundred dollars in cash provided she showed up right away and never told anyone about the money he’d given her.