Profit & Lace: A Dark MMF Romance

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Profit & Lace: A Dark MMF Romance Page 31

by Abby Angel


  We both look at each other and back at her, and I say, "Sure."

  "Is there any way Walter could take me home?" Cheryl asks. "It would really save me from having to get a cab. I'd really appreciate it."

  I look at Walter and he looks at me.

  "I don't see why not," I say.

  "It's no problem, just tell me where to go," Walter says. "I'm assuming you live nearby?"

  Cheryl smiles again. "It's not too far. Thank you so much; you're saving me quite a bit of hassle today."

  We all walk out of the lobby and to the limo. Walter holds the door open for us and Cheryl and I both scoot into the long, black leather seat. "I could get used to sitting in this every day," she jokes.

  Walter drives her to her apartment and I notice that she lives close to Ethan. When she leaves, I'm struck with a thought and I turn to Walter.

  I say, "Drive me to Ethan's apartment."

  "Are you sure that's a good idea?" Walter asks. He has a look of concern flash across his face. I guess I can understand where he's coming from. I've been an emotional rollercoaster today.

  "Yes," I say. "I need to see him."

  "Okay, anything you say," Walter replies, and he drives to One57. When we pull up to the massive building, I nearly jump out.

  "Thank you Walter," I say. "I'll call you in a little bit."

  "Don't do anything I wouldn't do, darling."

  I give him a wink and enter the building. I take the elevator to Ethan's floor, and the higher up I travel, the more nervous energy I have. I find myself pacing back and forth in the elevator until the doors slide open and I walk into the hall, directly facing Ethan's apartment. I get the courage to walk forward and I knock. At first, I don't hear a sound, and then I hear his footsteps approaching.

  He opens the door.

  I see his cobalt blue eyes and that smile.

  "I was hoping you'd come," he says. "I have a surprise for you."

  Just standing her in front of him. Just seeing him. A flood of emotion runs through me. Is what I'm feeling real? Is this just lust, or something else?

  If what I'm feeling turns out to be real … I'll have to tell him.

  I'll have to come clean.

  Ethan

  I’m sitting on the balcony watching something on my tablet. It’s pretty engrossing and I don’t even notice the sounds of the New York City traffic below.

  What?

  No, you can’t see what I’m looking at.

  I think that I already fucking share enough with you as it is, you know? It’s nothing personal. It’s just something that I want to keep to myself for now. I’m sure later on you’ll find out in time.

  But let me just tell you one thing.

  What’s on this fucking tablet is explosive. I mean, if you saw it, you would probably be fucking pissed at me. Maybe you’d tell me to do something that I’m not prepared to do right now. This book would be over because I’d walk the fuck away if you told me that.

  Yes, fine. It has to do with Brittney, but that’s all you’re getting out of me, babe.

  Besides I can’t answer any more. Don’t you hear the doorbell? She’s here.

  I go inside, make sure to turn off my tablet and put it on the table before opening the door.

  She’s standing there in a slinky black strapless dress that comes down five inches above her knees.

  It's fucking classy and sexy at the same time. I don't even know how it's fucking possible but it makes me want to hold her close and protect her while ripping it off and fucking her at the same goddamn time.

  Her face is made up and it’s beautiful. But my dick would be as hard as it is now if she had no makeup on.

  God, I need to get a hold of myself.

  "I was hoping you'd come," I say. "I have a surprise for you."

  She looks at me like she’s seen a ghost.

  “Come on in,” I tell her and she walks by. I turn to look at her ass as she walks by. That dress is tight around the ass and I watch those cheeks as they flex as she walks. Fucking Christ, I’m fucking hard already.

  You’re shaking your fucking head at me, huh? I know. Don’t think I can’t see you. Yeah, I’m not ashamed or anything. Fuck that. I want to squeeze that ass. Rub it and knead it. Like fucking dough. I want to run my cock over it. Stick it in between those ass cheeks. I want to smack that fucking ass.

  Then when I’m ready I want to fucking cum all over.

  Mark it as mine.

  Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m going to do. I take a step over toward Brittney. The look in my eyes should probably tell her what I'm going to do to her—how I’m going to take her like the fucking savage beast that I am.

  “Ethan,” she says to me, and I automatically hear something in her voice that makes me stop. “I need to tell you something.”

  Fuck.

  Outwardly, I’m calm. My brain may be consumed by lust, but you can’t tell looking at me from the outside. Sure, maybe if you grab my cock, you can tell. But if you’re doing that, then you’re probably thinking the same thing as I am.

  Why am I all of a sudden like this? That’s what you want to know, isn't it?

  Because of what I saw on the fucking tablet.

  Yeah, the same thing I can’t tell you about yet.

  Don’t pout. I just had to fucking do that. I’m going to fucking miss you when this book is over; you know that, don’t you?

  Anyways, we’re far from done now, because Brittney is looking at me and I can tell she’s starting to waver in whatever she had committed to doing.

  “Let’s sit down,” I tell her, and I take her hand and lead her to the sofa where I sit her down next to me.

  I can smell her fucking perfume. It’s fucking addictive and it makes my nostrils flare up.

  “What did you want to tell me?” I ask, looking at her.

  Brittney looks down.

  “Hey,” I tell her. “You can tell me anything.”

  “It’s just a secret that I’ve been keeping from you,” she tells me. I nod. Every one of us has fucking secrets. That’s nothing new.

  If you want to know my secrets, you’ll go turn on that tablet. But you can’t.

  Yeah, I’m an asshole sometimes. I know.

  “Babe, it’s okay,” I tell her, holding her chin with my hand and lifting her face. “You can tell me anything, but you don’t have to tell me everything.”

  Brittney looks at me for a second. “You know I used to do porn, right?” she asks me.

  I nod. I mean, I never outright asked her specifically if she used to be a porn star, but it was always something I suspected. And there was something about her face that seems kind of familiar…

  “I always thought,” I say still nodding, “But I never really knew for sure.”

  “I lived in Los Angeles for the longest time and I sort of drifted into the business,” she tells me, looking at me intently, seeing what my reaction is going to be. “I came to New York to get away from it.”

  “Well, you seemed to do a good job of that, babe,” I tell her, smiling a bit to show her that it’s okay. I can tell she's fucking on edge—looking to see any sign of me being upset. “You’re going to be the first Illicit Escape girl. I don't know if that’s leaving the business entirely.”

  “But that’s not what I thought I’d be doing when I came to New York,” she tells me, and she scoots closer. “I honestly thought I’d be leaving porn forever. I brought my assistant with me, Walter. And we set up a business together.”

  I nod. Walter reminds me of Cheryl in a lot of ways from the few times I’ve seen him here and there as I’ve met Brittney.

  “Okay,” I say, scooting a bit closer. “So you used to do porn. I’m in porn too,” I tell her.

  “But it’s what I did afterwards, that I want to tell you about,” she tells me, struggling to get the words out.

  “What did you do afterwards?” I ask, now getting genuinely interested.

  “I started a company, where women would come
to me, and they’d tell me about the men they wanted me to fuck, and I’d seduce them for money,” she says to me, letting it all come out in a rush. “They wanted to get proof that these men were assholes and were cheating on them so they’d have grounds for divorce.”

  “They couldn’t just get a private investigator?” I ask.

  She shakes her head. “It wasn’t always so easy. The husbands, maybe they weren’t cheating then, but they were still ignoring and mistreating their wives. Sometimes it was just that the husbands weren’t traveling. But the wives knew the love was gone. And they wanted out of the marriage. They came to me.”

  I’m silent. Brittney continues.

  “I’m the CEO of a company called Man Chasers, LLC, Ethan,” she confides. “And for the longest time I thought I didn’t need a man in my life at all. That they were nothing but a waste of time.”

  I don't know what to fucking say.

  “But then I kinda met you,” she finishes off with.

  She’s looking at me. Waiting for me to fucking say something.

  I move my eyes back to her. She’s so fucking cute as a button.

  “I’ve never spent as much time with a single woman as I have with you,” I tell her. It’s the fucking truth. “I’ve never spent so much time fucking thinking about a woman as I do when you’re not around, Brit,” I say.

  She gasps as I pull her close to me.

  “And I could care less that you’ve been in fucking porn as long as you’re here with me right fucking now, babe,” I continue forcefully. “I could care less that you made a job to find out cheating scumbags and have them pay for being assholes.”

  Brittney starts to smile and I pull her over to me all the way. She comes willingly.

  “No one has fucking affected me. Ever. Like you,” I tell her. I’m telling her the truth. “When you first walked in that door, I fucking wanted to bang the shit out of you. I wanted to fucking smack your ass till you cried out and suck on your tits as I fucked you. I wanted to cum all over that fucking gorgeous body you got, babe,” I say to her, as serious as I’ve ever been in my life.

  “That’s so romantic, Ethan,” she says with a teasing grin, as she rests her body on my chest. I can feel her. Every inch of her. Pressed against me. It’s fucking heaven. “You don’t want me to do that anymore?”

  Fuck. This is where you’re going to think I’m fucking crazy. Especially if you saw what I saw on the tablet. But you didn’t. So you’re going to have to trust me that I know what's best.

  I reach over to the cigar box on the coffee table. I open it and pull out the only existing prototype of Illict Escape.

  Brittney’s eyes go wide.

  “Is that…” she trails off.

  “Yeah,” I tell her hoarsely. “It’s the only copy to date that we’ve made of Illicit Escape. And yes, I still want to fuck your brains out. But I trust you, babe. And I want you to experience what this is going to be like.”

  Brittney’s eyes go wide and I can see that they’re going to tear up.

  She’s fucking overwhelmed. The super secret project. Guarded so fucking closely.

  And I’m about to let her in.

  I take the glasses and put them on her. They’re spare and very minimal—single rimmed and unobtrusive.

  I pull over my tablet. It’ll let me see what she sees.

  “Let’s go for a ride, baby,” I tell her.

  Then I power it on.

  Brittney

  “Let’s do this,” I whisper, anxiety suddenly kicking in. I have no idea what Ethan's device really does, but I’m more than eager to find out.

  “Are you sure, babe? I’ll be watching everything and I know this is… personal.” I look into his eyes, my heart drumming a song of desire and hesitancy, and I just nod. It’s an automatic movement, but one that I know is the right one. I can’t believe this is happening but… I think I’m falling for him. I want him to see what’s inside of my head, and I want him to see the way all my deepest desires revolve around him and only him. The moment he placed the glasses on me, I knew I wanted to do this. I just didn’t know how much.

  “I want to do it… I want you to see,” I whisper, my heart pounding at a frantic pace. What the hell am I doing? I have no idea what’s going to happen once this thing gets going. Once again, the winds of hesitancy run wild inside my head; am I really this sure that I want to share what I’m about to experience with him? When the answer comes, it couldn’t be any clearer: of course I do.

  There’s a bright flash of light coming from the rim of the glasses, and it starts to pulse at a steady rhythm. It spreads to the lenses, and I have to close my eyes; still, the red flashes of light are so strong that they manage to get past my shut eyelids. Slowly, the flashes starts to dim, the light pulsing at a more gently rhythm, and I open my eyes.

  It’s weird, but I don’t see a thing. There’s just darkness, as if I’ve gone blind. I have no idea how this Illicit Escape thing works, but it has taken complete control of my sight. I can still feel the glasses sitting on the bridge of my nose, but I can’t see them anymore. Then, like a fog that starts to clear, I see a flicker in the distance, an oasis right in the middle of the darkness.

  Even though I’m sitting, I feel myself moving as I walk toward the light in the distance. It seems that the Illicit Escape not only affects what you can see, but all of your other senses as well. Oh, this is going to be good … Really good.

  As I close in on the object, I realize it’s a mirror. There’s no illumination in this empty and dark virtual place I’m in, so it seems the flat surface of the mirror isn’t reflecting any light; instead, it’s from there that the light comes. From the other side of the mirror, my reflection looks straight into my eyes.

  My hair is tied up in a ponytail, and I’m wearing nothing aside from a pair of high-heels, black stockings, and a matching pair of black lace panties and bra. My lips are painted with a deep red, the color of wine, and I can’t help but lift one finger and brush it over my mouth. It’s a strange feeling. I feel my real body frozen in place, but my body in this dream world reacts, and I touch my lips with one fingertip. And I can actually feel it.

  This is insane; this thing has to be worth millions and millions of dollars. No, scratch that… We’re talking billions here. This is so far beyond what anyone has managed to pull off. Once he launches Illicit Pleasures, Ethan will become the undisputed King of Porn… And I bet that it won’t take long for his VR technology to make him as rich as God once he ventures outside of the sex industry. No wonder Simon is dying to get his hands on this prototype. Forget about porn, this is a game changer.

  My thought process doesn’t take long to derail. I see someone moving in the mirror, drawing close, and I turn on my heels to face him. Ethan is standing right behind me, wearing what looks like a million dollar suit; from the crisp white shirt to the polished black shoes, everything on him seems arranged to perfection.

  “Hello, Brittney,” he says, gently smiling, and he sounds just like the real Ethan.

  “Hello,” I hear myself responding, even though my real lips aren’t moving. The longer I spend with the glasses, the more they seem to be working their magic on me. There’s already a noticeable change taking place; it all looked so life like, but now… It just seems real.

  “Ready for the ride of your life?” The Ethan in front of me tells me, undoing his tie at the same time. “I’m here to do… whatever you want.”

  “Whatever I want,” I repeat after him, the words taking on an almost mystical sound. His smile turns into a grin, and he starts unbuttoning his shirt then, his fingers moving with maddening patience. As his chiseled pectorals and abs come into view, my pussy starts to grow wet. Oh, when all this is over, I’m getting one of these glasses.

  Once Ethan takes off his shirt, he unbuckles his belt and pulls it out. Without taking his eyes off of me, he joins the two ends of the belt in his hand, and then snaps it tight.

  “Close your eyes,” he commands me
, and I feel that steady pulse of light against my eyelids again. Once it subsides, I open my eyes again and my surroundings have changed; we’re in an enormous room now, and there’s a bed right in the middle of it. The floor is all carpeted in red, and so are the walls; there are no windows or doors in this place, and the illumination seems to come from the top and bottom corners of the room. Ethan remains in front of me, though, his chest bare and the belt in his hand.

  Without saying a word, I know what he wants me to do. I saunter toward the bed, and bending over, I jut my ass back as I place my hands on top of the mattress. Somehow, the machine is reading my innermost desires, pulling them out from their unconscious slumber and turning them into something tangible.

  “Use me, Ethan,” I find myself saying, my whole body tensing up as I prepare for the impact of the belt. To my surprise, it doesn’t come; instead, he simply brushes the leather belt against my ass cheeks, gently moving it up and down. He’s teasing me; it seems that the machine is devious enough to not only know what you want… but also what you need.

  “Beg,” his word seems like a command from a god, and my insides clench in response. My thong is already drenched in my wetness, and I feel it sticking to my skin. By now, I can’t even feel my real body; my world is now inside this reality. Still, I’ll bet that my real thong is as soaked my digital one.

  “Please, Ethan…” I whisper, getting the words out between breaths. He keeps brushing the belt against me as if he didn’t hear me, making me want his sweet punishment even more. As he takes the belt off of my ass, he places one finger between my ass cheeks and over the small string of my thong, and slides it over to my back. I can’t help but moan as I feel his touch and then, just like that, he takes his finger out and I feel him moving behind me; in a heartbeat, the belt lands heavily on my ass, the sound of it blending in with my scream.

  “Is this what you want?” he asks, whipping me across the ass again. The dry sound of the leather hitting my flesh crawls all the way up to my brain, and I can barely think straight.

  “Yes, yes,” I repeat as he slaps me with the belt again, hard enough to leave a mark. I never cared too much about being roughed up like this, but with Ethan it just seems… Inevitable. He’s a dominant man, and what better way than this for me to feel his dominance?

 

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