The Spell of Six

by Casey Morgan

  This could be no different. Except I would be serving myself up on the plate, up on the auction block. But maybe that would be okay, if it meant I could keep this place open. Keep my family’s legacy alive. And get pregnant. Maybe having an auction would be an easy way to choose between these boys. Let fate do it for me.

  “It’s more like charity,” added Alex, giving me a mischievous grin and a wink. “You give of yourself to the highest bidder in the way that you’ve stipulated you will, and everybody wins. Some poor soul gets your charitable donation of time and conversation, Black Diamond gets a small cut for hosting the deal, and you get the rest. However much they win your bid for, you get most of the final amount. Which in turn, goes to your good causes. To what you need the money for, so it’s as close to a win-win all around as many businesses get.”

  Travis moved his hand up my leg a little more, toward my crotch. So did Eric, saying to me, “You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, Gwendolyn. It’s up to you, but it is something that happens every year. It’s coming up in a few days, actually right before the Harvest Festival—”

  “And, if you’re looking for a sure-fire way to get the money you need, this could be a good way to go. Barring any objections, you may or may not have to the venue and situation, of course.” He rubbed the back of one of his fingers along my inner thigh. The crease between my thigh and my mound. “If you like risk and new and different as much is I think you do, I think you’ll really enjoy something like this.” He whispered this last part. It was almost so quiet I couldn’t hear over the shuffle of napkins.

  As much as I wouldn’t have admitted it if my brothers were here, I did like risk. I liked new and different. Particularly the idea of this “new and different,” even when my common sense started to beat me over the head with a sledgehammer, saying that I was still selling my body to keep my business open. Even then, I had to admit Travis was right.

  “How does someone get involved in something like this?” I asked. All four pairs of eyes found me at that moment. I added, “Hypothetically, I mean. If a woman wanted to, say, give this type of thing a shot because she felt it might be worth the risk, how might she go about securing a spot in the auction?”

  God, I sounded so lame. So dumb and obvious, but my womanly pride wasn’t about to let me look like I was some kind of depraved, closeted exhibitionist, just waiting for the moment she was set free. Just waiting for the chance to tarnish her reputation in that way.

  “I’m not really sure,” said Travis. He looked around at his fellow men. “We’re not really sure. We’ve never been in a position where we had to auction ourselves off so…”

  Obviously.

  He had said beautiful women after all, not beautiful men.

  “But I would assume you could ask the guy who runs the joint. Jorin. He would know what the procedure is, since he runs everything to do with Black Diamond. The ordinary and extraordinary, and everything in between. I bet if you were to get in touch with him, he would definitely be able to enlighten you as to how a woman could get involved. Could put herself out there on the auction block, if she were so inclined.” Here, Travis moved his hand further up my thigh and further into my soft, eager mound.

  “Not Jorin.” All of our eyes snapped to David. “It would be Sylvan, director of memberships for the club, who you would want to talk to. I believe he handles that particular aspect of the business.”

  Okay. Sylvan it is. That was someone I hadn’t met yet. With those thoughts, I filed his name away. Made secret plans to call Black Diamond soon, and see if I could get a spot. What it would cost me besides, my comfort zone.

  Just as these plans crested and buried themselves deeply in my synapses, I felt them before I saw them: the second, late-night wave of customers. Don’t ask me how. I just did. You tend to develop a sixth sense for things like that when you’ve worked in my line of work for as long as I have.

  I wiped my mouth, and got up from my seat. But not before giving Eric a squeeze on his hand, and Travis my own touch on his leg. Something he was legitimately surprised, and then turned on, by.

  “Thanks for everything.” Though it would look like I was only telling them, I was speaking to the group. “Thank you guys, for all of your help, all of your company.” As I said this, I stepped away from my chair, to get a good look at all of them. They all turned to watch me, like I knew and hoped they would. “Thank you all for such good ideas, too. You’ve given me a lot to think about tonight.”

  “Take your time with it,” advised David. His gray/green eyes looking serious and worried. “Don’t rush this decision. Any of these decisions, for that matter.”

  “You’ll have a good time if you do decide to come, though,” said Alex, turning around to face me. Unlike his brother, his green eyes were bright like emeralds. His wavy blonde hair was hot and silky like gold. “A lot of people do.” As he said this, I wanted to ask him—all of them—if they would be there at whatever that auction was, this year. I wanted to, but I didn’t. I assumed they would. But I didn’t act. Partly because I wasn’t brave enough. I didn’t want to come across like I was a stalker or anything.

  Second of all, though, I didn’t have the time anymore. I went from having my own special time with them, to having none at all.

  Like I had sensed, customers were on the way. And they chose that moment, and that moment alone, to come through the doors. Saving and damning me from asking that final question. In milliseconds, the noise and activity became overwhelming. Completely distracting to me. “Sorry, boys, but I’ve got a go over and take care of these people,” I said, regretting that our date had to be officially over.

  “It’s all right,” said David. “I think it’s time we headed out of your hair, anyway. Early meeting tomorrow morning.” He got up, taking a reluctant Alex with him.

  “Yeah. So sorry, Gwendolyn,” murmured Alex, looking as guilty as Stephanie should’ve looked and felt quitting on me over the phone, “I wish I could stay and help you with this new wave of customers, but the meeting’s like really, really early.”

  Travis stood up, looking ready and willing to help me fight the patron horde. “I could stay if you really, really wanted and needed me to, Gwendolyn.”

  David grabbed onto him with his other free hand. Eric did as well, preparing to drag him out. “No, you’re not,” said David.

  “We all took the same car,” said Eric, so you wouldn’t be able to get home. He was being reasonable. Logical, but his eyes spoke of something different. As did Alex’s and David’s. They didn’t want Travis having any more special time with me than they got. And Travis looked pissed at being denied the opportunity.

  I softened my eyes toward him, then to all of them. “It’s fine, you guys. Your business is important. Not just mine. You guys go home and get some sleep. Be good,” I added, looking specifically at Travis, who looked moments away from bucking them all off, or throwing a tantrum. “Go to your important meeting, and I’ll do what I gotta do.”

  “Get some sleep tonight, Gwendolyn,” said Alex. “I know I will. And when I do, it’ll be super sweet.” Saying that, he took his arm out of his brother’s hold, and went around back Travis, putting his hands on his shoulders. As if he agreed with the rest of his brethren that Travis was going to be a problem child.

  I blushed over his innuendo, knowing that it would be sweet for me too.

  I knew, because I was already feeling warm and fuzzy between my legs. Wet and slick in my underwear, thanks to all that attention.

  I would be having sweet dreams of him, too. All of them, once I got the chance to be alone in bed.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Gwendolyn

  In my bedroom again, after finishing up another late night, I was ready to put all four boys back in my head and back between my legs, even if only in a fantasy. I quickly undressed, put on the silkiest, sexiest nightgown I owned, and got into bed.

  There, I immediately began to play with the silk hem of my nightgown. Toy
with the ends, and the pieces laying on my thigh, imagining it was both Travis and Eric.

  Almost immediately, I began to imagine that I was still downstairs at the bar. Except I was behind it, and there weren’t a bunch of other customers, but only my four beautiful boys. Travis and Eric first. They were there on either side of me, beginning to run their fingers discreetly, passionately up my leg. I was in a dress, so I felt everything directly on my skin, not through clothing. I felt the difference in their fingers. Eric’s were a little softer, like meditation bells.

  Travis’ fingers were rougher than Eric’s, but only slightly, and not in a bad way. I imagined that it was from him helping me deliver more food, clear more surfaces again tonight.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t stay as late as I wanted tonight,” he said. “But I’m here now, so let me make it up to you.”

  “Me too,” whispered Eric, as they both hoisted me up on to the empty bar, and began to kiss and caress my thighs. Wander in closer to my pussy. My mound. My hood, already eager for touching. Release, since she was cheated earlier in the night.

  For a few long moments, it was them. Eric and Travis, touching and caressing me. Spiraling up and in, teasing and whispering their fingers around my lower lips. Playing with the idea of going beyond, deeper inside to my clit, but just barely. Just enough so that I had to open my legs for them, but not enough to dip a finger in my honey.

  I breathed quietly but heavily, teasing my clit in the same way outside my fantasy. Almost going inside, but hanging back. Teasing and tickling, enjoying the sensation. Some wet spirals, even though I wasn’t going to town yet.

  Just as the sensations crested in my awareness, my fantasy took a turn. I heard and felt David and Alex come in from behind. Walk into the bar and up to where I was. Alex spoke first, wrapping his arms around me, immediately cupping both of my breasts.

  “Are these men giving you any trouble, miss?”

  The way he said this, I imagined he was trying to play at being a concerned citizen. A savior from some debauchery that he was already enjoying. I imagined he began to spiral his fingers around one nipple and then the other, making it immediately hard and heavy under the fabric of the dress. “If so, I’d like to join that trouble. Help you out with a difficult, arduous task.” With every word, he spoke slowly. Commandingly.

  I caressed my nipples the same way I imagined Alex doing, but I had to do both with one hand, not his imagined two. From one breast to the other, I drew circles around the nipples, made them go hard under my fingers. Pinched the knobby, sensitive tips when they did. I also began to stroke the sides of my clit. The wet and warm walls of my slit, imagining that was Travis.

  Imagining he was getting jealous and aggressive toward his coveted spot behind the bar with me. “I got here first,” he said, stroking one side of my clit, and then the other. “Her pussy is mine this time, gentlemen, not yours.” Saying this, I imagined he put his thumb on one side of my slit, and his index finger on the other, and began to rub up and down. Stroke me like I might stroke him, except in shorter, gentler strokes. For now.

  “I was here with you from the beginning, and she’s mine too,” said Eric, pulling down one side of my dress. A portion of the front of it, revealing my stiff, hot nipples. How raised and red they were. He moved Alex’s fingers and put one of my nipples in his mouth and cupped the breast, while Alex continued to pinch my other nipple.

  “It doesn’t matter which of you were here first, second or third, I’m the boss of the company, so I’m going to be at the top of the list again,” commanded David. With this, I imagined that David swung himself over the bar, and took up a position between my legs. Kneeling there, and quickly scooting himself up to my pussy, my painting, liquid lips. Even without him burying his nose or lips in there, I was already clenching for him.

  Travis moved to my backside when David started licking my slit. He jiggled and stroked my butt cheeks, before squeezing them tight. His grip sent a puff of desire, a throb of pleasure through me.

  David scooted pulled back on his knees, gently spreading my thighs. Spreading my lower lips, as Travis continued to touch my ass. “Glowing like neon,” he murmured. “You’re lit up like an electric sign, Gwendolyn. I’m going to make you even more of a livewire now.”

  With that, he put his mouth back on my pussy. On my bead and lips, not hesitating in the slightest.

  The moment he did, I imagined his tongue to be wet. Warm. The perfect instrument to flick and taste my demanding clit with. I imagined he sucked and licked with gusto. In my head, I replaced the movement of my fingers over my swollen clit and inside my pussy lips with his tongue. I imagined every stroke and every penetration was him. His warm, ravenous mouth.

  And I imagined that Travis moved back from my butt. He unzipped the front of his stylish, dark jeans and offering me his already-thick, already majestically-risen cock to suck. I took it in my mouth eagerly.

  Eric chose that moment to bite and nibble my breasts, lick and stimulate my sensitive, virgin cleavage with his tongue. “I’d like to put myself between here, rub myself on these beautiful milky-white and soft babies, if you let me, Gwendolyn,” he said. “If I had a bigger workspace, I would.”

  Through it all, I felt my pleasure rising. My pussy muscles beginning to clench around David’s tongue. Drag on it. David moaned low and deep, seeming to enjoy the wet, suctioned grapple between us. He forced his tongue in deeper, forcing me to tremble and shake.

  Travis guided my mouth further down his cock and as I went to cry out, he said, “You don’t want anyone hearing you, Gwendolyn. Sucking on me more will help you be nice and quiet.” That immediately made me harder. Wetter in David’s mouth, and he moaned. David grabbed me around my hips, and tasted me more earnestly than before.

  Immediately, I felt my stomach bunch. My lower lips bunched around David and the lips on my mouth bunched around Travis. I moved my tongue and throat quickly and hungrily over Travis’s length, feeling my center pulse. My mouth watered in anticipation.

  As I sucked on Travis, I surrendered to Eric, who was still whispering to me about how much he’d like to put his cock between my breasts and come on them if I let him. Then I zeroed in on David’s tongue flicking my clit. He slid two, three and then four fingers into my pussy. I gasped and groaned happily at the sensation. I also imagined that each separate finger was each of their cocks.

  With each rough, demanding finger-fuck, I imagined how different and wonderful each of their penises would feel. How each of their textures would combine with their lengths and girths in untold magical ways. Fill me up and amaze me like a moving kaleidoscope. Like being stuck inside a prism, with each color fucking you nine ways from eternity, I imagined having all four of them inside of me. In different holes, taking turns. Swapping, shifting.

  The moment I thought that, my orgasm slammed into me, dragged me down into the pits of pleasure. I screamed then, muffling some of it in my pillow.

  As I let the sweet and sour dregs of my release pile drive through me, I decided I wasn’t just going to let this be fantasy. No. If given the chance, I was going to have them in real life. All four of them. Convention and propriety be damned.

  I’d said I didn’t know how I was ever going to choose between them, and I decided I wasn’t. Not now, not ever. I just had to figure out how to make that happen.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Gwendolyn

  The next day

  Thank God for the good sleep I got last night.

  Turns out I needed every moment of it, every bit of fantasy-fueled energy for the lunch rush the following day at noon. And it really was a rush. The busiest it had been in weeks, maybe months.

  And if course, it had to be now, when I only had an extra kitchen helper available to help serve customers, take orders, and seat people. Between the two of us working, we managed to keep just ahead of the people flooding in. Soon, we were almost at capacity. A sight I loved seeing, especially after the months and months of this bar bei
ng a veritable wasteland.

  Until I saw a sight I’d rather have gone an eternity without seeing. Maxine Axelrod, her pantsuit, fine-jewelry-wearing self, wandered into my bar. She weaved her way through the crowds of people like a worm; a recurring disease I thought I had gotten rid of.

  Her garishly bright red suit, paired with a fluffy-looking cream-colored neckerchief annoyed me almost as much as her perfectly-pointed trendy boots. Boots she paid for by making this entire downtown area go out of business.

  Her curly brown hair highlighted her dark blue eyes. Arctic and soulless like the surface of Pluto, they offered no warmth. Only a feeling of impending doom before being left to drift with nothing.

  My kitchen helper saw her, and went off to busy himself with taking orders. Cleaning off tables as soon as they were vacated, leaving me to her devices, whatever they were. I sat down my tray at the bar and turned to face her.

  “What do you want, Maxine? If you haven’t noticed, I’m busy with enough customers and food.”

  Maxine smiled, making her thin lips and chiseled face look unearthly. Unattractive, despite their deadly symmetry. “I can see that, Gwendolyn,” she whispered, looking out over my lunch crowd as if I didn’t deserve them. As if I’d done some illegal, black magic to get them to come here. “And I’m so glad you asked.”

  Her glittering, hungry eyes always disarmed me, but they did so even more today. She leaned over the bar.

  “Well, since you won’t take my offer at the original price I gave you, I came in today to see if you would take…”

  “If you’ve come to try to get me to sell, you’re out of luck, Maxine,” I said, feeling angry and terrified of her at the same time. I frowned at her body being anywhere on my bar. It was too cheap and selfish to even have the right to lean the way it was. “I’m not going to sell to you, no matter what number you throw out at me.”