Profit & Lace: A Dark MMF Romance

by Abby Angel

  Oh, about him… He actually did leave New York as Austin made him promise. He quit his position as the Police Commissioner, and then just packed everything and moved to Las Vegas. There, he decided it was good a good idea to try out the roulette and, next thing he knows, he’s flat out broke.

  Eventually he decided to turn his life around. The last time we’ve heard from the people keeping tabs on him, it seems that he had gotten a job at a coffee shop. That’s right, from Police Commissioner to minimum wage barista in Las Vegas. If you ever come across him, make sure you place an extra complicated order for him. And don’t tip.

  “Do you think we have the time before she wakes up?” Austin whispers, that mischievous grin of his flaring up something inside of me. It’s like this every day, really. You’d think that all that electric lust would start dissipating after a few months of fucking every single day, but in fact it’s been just the opposite. Sure, it’s trickier nowadays with the baby; I have learned to be quieter, that’s one, but we still can’t go a day without sex.

  “I think we do,” I whisper back at him, my arms still around his neck. I pull him after me and he lies down on top of my body, his hands going down to my waist.

  “You know… Sometimes I find myself wondering if all this isn’t just a dream. You, Anna, the club… How in the world did I ever get so lucky?”

  “I wonder the same sometimes,” I take my hand to his crotch and then squeeze his cock, feeling it already hard and pulsing against the palm of my hand. “But then I just feel you inside of me and I realize that this is as real as it could be…”

  “Well, let’s make the test then. Just to be sure,” he smiles as I start unbuckling his belt and pushing his pants down. Yeah, let’s be sure.

  But he’s right, you know? Our life seems like something out of a fairy-tale. We’re the envy of the whole world. Could life be any more perfect?

  I doubt it, I really do.

  Austin

  So, that’s what ends up happening, in the end. Sure, I’m a cocky fucking asshole. But I ended up getting my fucking comeuppance pretty good, don’t you think?

  I have to say though, I’m a very grateful man. And I’ve changed. Destiny’s changed me. She’s so invariably cute. Like a fucking button. Then one day, something crazy happens. I see her walking around the condo in her lace white boy shorts and belly shirt and my cock grows in a second. But she ends up looking at me with those wide eyes of hers and shakes her head, “Maybe if you’re good and follow instructions,” she says, crooking her fingers. And I growl, like an animal and follow her around the apartment - being led around like a dog. She sits down on the couch and turns on a movie. I don’t like the looks of what I’m seeing - a movie called ‘Hope Floats’ has never really floated my boat, but Destiny grabs me by the cock - I swear she grabs me by the cock - and pulls me closer to her.

  I end up cuddling with her the entire movie. Smelling her hair. Holding her arms. Feeling her ass wriggle and nestle itself in my crotch - enveloping me with her ass cheeks. Any other girl, this shit would not be okay. But for Destiny, I actually fucking enjoy it.

  Destiny turns over to me as the movie ends and looks deep into my eyes.

  “You know my friend Alexis is finishing up her novel about us, right?” Destiny asks.

  I’ve met Alexis a few times. She’s a cute girl. She’s a bit quirky. I know she’s fucking crazy about being sexy in every part of her life. Whether that means being outside in beautiful weather, or sitting at home reading a fucking book, you'll never see her go more than ten minutes without smiling and saying something fucking dirty.

  And let me tell you, when she dirty, she’s talking about us.

  “So, Alexis writes steamy contemporary romance about bad boys for the bad girl in all of us. She is still single at 30, in case anyone is interested to know, and still very much looking for love,” Destiny tells me.

  I nod to her, not sure where this is going as she continues, “Her favorite things in the world are flowers, chocolate, lingerie, high heels, lipstick, perfume, and the credit card award miles that she gets from buying all that.”

  This is just fucking strange. But I watch as Destiny talks to me.

  “Prior to writing, Alexis used to be a financial analyst in New York City,” Destiny tells me. “She quickly decided that working for a faceless corporation run by men was not her dream job. So she began to write. And as she began to write, she began to use those credit card award miles to travel all over the world.”

  “Okay, what the fuck is the point?” I ask.

  “Alexis is still single, in case you forgot from above,” Destiny says, her hands tracing lines on my chest as she props herself up on my body. God, her fucking body is keeping my cock hard as a fucking brick. If she doesn’t do something soon, I’m just going to cum right there. “She spends winters in California, fall and spring in New York City, and summers in Europe.”

  “Why are you telling me all this, babe?” I ask, a bit of fucking exasperation showing up in my voice. “Do you want me to fuck her?”

  Destiny scrunches her nose and gently slaps me on the side of the head.

  “No,” she says, rolling her eyes for added effect. “But she’s done without all that because she’s been writing about us. And our story is going to go on sale soon.”

  Fucking nice.

  “Where?” I ask.

  “Amazon,” Destiny says, “But you can join her list to keep up with updates or find out bonus content to read about our childhood if you sign up at http://eepurl.com/csXC2P or just email her at author.alexisangel@gmail.com”

  I shake my head. “I don’t know if anyone wants to read any more about us.”

  “Well, we’re going to be going to a few of her parties at Dirty Lil’ Angels on Facebook. People can click on the links to join or like,” Destiny replies.

  “Click what links?” I ask. I’m fucking confused. “Where?”

  “Don’t you want to be a Dirty Lil’ Angel, Austin?” she asks me.

  That’s too much. I bring my hands around and grab her ass. She squeals. Her crotch grinds against mine and she closes her eyes.

  When she opens her eyes again, she’s no longer the good girl and mother of my child. She’s a fucking porn star that I’m going to fuck like a whore.

  I grin as she brings her mouth lower and we kiss.

  Its time for the Python to come out and play.

  Get Ready For A Brand New Never Before Seen Mona Cox

  So this Mona Cox book was written exclusively for this book. It will never be published elsewhere! Exclusive, exclusive, exclusive!!

  Vivian Vs. The Virgin Buyer by Mona Cox (Full length novel, never published. Exclusive content!)

  Adrienne & Reese from Stories From The 6 Train by Alexis Angel (Never Before Published. Exclusive Content)

  Blaze & Ginger from Stories From The 6 Train by Alexis Angel (Never Before Published. Exclusive Content)

  Sharing Seymours - a short story

  Our goal in this is simple.

  To entertain you as long as we can to give you the best customer experience with the words that we hold so dear. Because while we may be in various corners of the world, the fact that we are sharing these brings us closer together we feel.

  Thank you so much for reading!

  xoxo

  Alexis Angel

  Vivian Vs. The Virgin Buyer

  Careful, Mr. Bad Boy. I may look sweet and cute. But this lil’ slip of a girl can bring the Devil to his knees…

  I mean, sure, I like kitties! And I <3 wearing pink!

  And sure…sex slave is an unconventional career choice!

  But that doesn’t mean that I’m not going to go on vacation.

  I may even take sick days. Or personal days if I have to get my nails done.

  You’re just going to have to life with your kitten not being there for a little bit, okay?

  I promise when I come back you can humiliate me extra hard as long as you don’t touch the nails
because I just got a new girl who does awesome manicures.

  Besides, it’ll give you time to cook dinner.

  Because you gotta take care of your sex slave, right?

  *** It’s the cute single girl versus the Big Bad Dom in this installment from Mona Cox. Guaranteed to be sweet, sexy, sassy, and fun. No cheating or cliffhangers. Happy Ending? Always, babe ***

  Vivian

  I get up onto my knees so I can get a better angle at Johnny’s dick. Oh, that’s better. It starts sliding down my throat just right and I start to really get into it. I mean, his dick is a little on the small side, but he’s making all the right noises and is thrusting up into my mouth as I go, so that’s a bonus, right?

  With my left hand around his dick, pumping it, I move my right hand down to my skirt and push it up and out of the way. I close my eyes in bliss. Oh yeah, that’s real nice. I can feel my pussy juices all over my hand as I rub my clit harder. I’m pistoning up and down on Johnny’s dick, rubbing my clit so hard I can see stars, I’m almost there, almost—

  Johnny pulls back, yanking me out of my blissful sexual state. I stop, staring up at him wide-eyed, my lips wrapped around him, waiting to hear what the fuck he is doing.

  “Come on, get up,” Johnny says from his perch on the side of the bed, patting it in invitation. “I wanna fuck you hard like the bitch that you are and cum in your hot little pussy.”

  Dammit. I was so close.

  I pull my mouth off his dick with a pop. “Sorry, Johnny, that’s a no-go. I’m saving my virginity for when I’m in love with a guy.” And no offense to you, but you’re not going to be it. I didn’t say that part out loud, of course – there’s only so many blows to a guy’s ego that I should deliver in one evening – but that didn’t make it any less true.

  I’d met Johnny earlier this evening at my favorite nightclub. He may not have a huge dick, but he does have some amazing dance moves. We’d laughed and flirted and he’d ground against me out on the floor, with the music pumping and the lights flashing and I’d thought hell, it might be fun to go back to his place for a little BJ action. But after we got here, I’ve been…less than overwhelmed, shall we say?

  Unfortunately, I can tell that isn’t going to get better anytime soon.

  “You’re…you’re a virgin??” Johnny gasps, his eyes round with horror. His dick begins to wilt in my hand, like a bouquet of dandelions left out in the hot sun for an hour. Within what seems like only seconds, he’s practically shriveled up inside himself. We’d need to do an operation to find his dick and pull it back out at this point.

  “Yeah, a virgin,” I say defensively. “God, it’s not like it’s contagious or something.”

  “Are you just a kid? I thought you were at least 18.” I can tell that he’s starting to get his panic on at the idea that he’s fucking someone underage, and I have to restrain myself from rolling my eyes so hard, they fall out of my head.

  “I’m 21, for fuck’s sakes. I’ve graduated from NYU. I’m not underage. Do you need to see my ID?”

  Except he’s already yanking his undies up – seriously, anyone who wears tighty-whities to a dance club, hoping to pick up a date and bring them home, deserves scorn and laughter, just saying – and is scrambling backwards away from me, heading for the middle of the bed like it’s his lifeboat in the middle of a raging storm.

  Wow, he’s taking this “virginity is contagious” thing a little far.

  I push myself to my feet and yank my skirt down. Shoving my feet into my shoes, I grab my purse and head for the door, not even bothering to say goodbye. I’m a virgin, not a leper, and I’ve had it with guys who act like their dick might fall off if they touch me. Is it really that bad to still be a virgin at age 21? Is it really that bad to want to save myself for someone I love? God…

  I pull out my phone and text Diane on the elevator ride down to the ground floor. Where are you?

  Truthfully, I just want to be anywhere but here. Anywhere at all. She could tell me that she was out grocery shopping and I’d probably ask her which grocery store.

  Luckily for my sanity (I mean, who actually shops for groceries? And for that matter, who has time to cook?) she texts right back. At the Marquee. You should come join us.

  Us…hmmm, I wonder who else she’s with. I start to feel my flagging spirits rise again. I am not a terrible human being for still being a virgin, no matter what the Johnnys of the world think. I want to go have some fun – let loose and enjoy myself.

  I want to find someone who likes me for me.

  I want to find someone who loves me.

  No matter how impossible that dream seems right now.

  Victor

  I look out over the dance floor, watching the sway of the bodies under the pulsing, flashing lights, and stifle a yawn. Oh god – it’s always the same. Don’t people get bored with the same club scene, weekend after weekend? Don’t people want more out of life than this?

  Except when I try to pay attention to what Dominic and Apollo are discussing – the futures market and whether it’s a good time to bet on grain prices rising – I can’t say that it’s any more enticing than going out and dancing to the same techno song on repeat for hours on end.

  Okay, so maybe it isn’t the same exact song on repeat, but it might as well be. All of this music sounds the same to me. Thump, thump, thump, thump… Ugh.

  I take another swig of my scotch and struggle to focus on Dominic’s words.

  “I think that corn and oats are going to up this year because of the political climate here in the US, but rice is going to—”

  And now they’ve lost me again. Seriously, who can give a flying fuck about the cost of oats? Are they being serious right now? Maybe they’re just trying to see how long I’ll pretend to listen to them before they bust up laughing and yell, “Psych!”

  I study their faces intently and realize…nope, they’re dead serious. Oh my god, death. Death now.

  And then it happens. No, I don’t die. I think my death at this very moment would lead to a pretty short book, don’t you think? No, something catches my eye and I look up from my drink and from my internal wrestle about how early is too early to just call it quits and go home, but then…her.

  I have to be the least sappy, romantic, gushy guy I know. Especially since my closest friends, Apollo and Dominic, have both hooked up with two women who apparently make them Very Happy and thus Apollo and Dom feel the need to fawn, like schoolgirls, about the amazing sex and the sheer happiness and joy that comes from being around their girlfriends. I mean, I like sex as much as the next guy, but their over-the-top descriptions of being completed and whole because of it? Not exactly believable.

  But watching the hottest girl I’ve ever seen work her way over towards my table, suddenly makes me sit up and notice. I’m not going to say that the heavens opened and the angels sang, but hot damn, if we’re going to call someone an angel, it would be this girl. Legs that go on for forever, a tiny waist, these perfect boobs that look like they’d just fit into the palm of my hand, and straight blonde hair that falls to her waist. I can’t tell her eye color from here and suddenly, that seems like the world’s biggest tragedy. Are they a brilliant green? A soft blue? A dark, chocolate brown? I have to know.

  It’s only when she gets to the table and is smiling at the three of us that I realize that Ashley, Apollo’s fiancee, is with her. For a moment, I thought she’d headed straight for me because she felt the same pull towards me that I did towards her, but…

  Well, I guess I’ll take what I can get. And the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen, standing at my table and waiting to be introduced to me? Yeah, I’ll take that.

  “Hey you guys, this is my old friend Vivian,” Ashley says, and Sex-Goddess-Come-To-Earth Vivian pops her on the shoulder.

  “Hey!” she protests with a laugh. “Who are you calling ‘old’? I’m pretty sure I’m younger than you.”

  “Oh my god, that totally came out wrong!” Ashley says, laughing. “L
et’s try this again. Vivian is Lisa’s younger sister and she also happens to be someone who I’ve been friends with for a long time. How was that?” she asks Vivian and they laugh together, Vivian’s cheerful laugh tinkling out of her like wind chimes in a gentle breeze.

  Wind chimes?

  Gentle breeze?

  What the fuck is wrong with me?

  Laughter is not a wind chime. There are no gentle breezes inside of the Marquee. But as Ashley introduces Vivian directly to me, I can’t contain my dick, which is currently straining to attention. I hope whoever put these pants together used some industrial strength thread on the zipper, ‘cause I’m sure pushing against those threads right now. That’s all I need – to bust the crotch of my pants open in front of a club full of people with the hardest hard-on I think I’ve ever had.

  She puts her hand out to shake mine, and I reach out, grasping her hand in mine and oh fuck, the electricity bolts shooting up my arm right now? I feel like I’ve just touched a live wire, but in a good way.

  Which is not a good thing. I don’t do this. I don’t do any of this. I don’t drool over hot young things and I don’t get a hard-on just by hearing someone laugh and I don’t, definitely don’t, think that someone is an angel come to earth just by spotting them across the dance floor.

  Absolutely not that.

  Vivian

  When Ashley had dragged me across the dance floor to meet her fiancé, I had a hard time not rolling my eyes. Ashley seems to think he’s some cross between a sex god and Brad Pitt. No offense, but no guy is that awesome.

  But when we get to their table, I can’t tear my eyes off this guy who’d been lounging back as we came walking up, looking bored as fuck, staring out over the crowd. He had looked like he’d rather get a root canal than sit there for one more minute.