Sugar Daddies (6 page)

I shuffled down into the mattress, and it was comfortable. Much better than my one at home.

Fuck, how I wished I was fucking Rick. Just Rick. His hot tatted body over mine.

But Carl.

Shit.

There was fear lurking under the bravado and I wished I couldn’t feel it. Bravado was good, bravado kept you safe and happy and smiling, confident in the face of a world that wants to judge you and tear you down at every opportunity. Everyone loves the smiling, confident, happy-go-lucky girl, and mainly that was me.
Mainly
. But here I felt out of my depth, galloping into the unknown for the sake of a small-time dream nobody in the world except me took seriously.

I rolled onto my side, my knees to my chest, snuggling down into the pillows and heading for sleep.

Until the noises came.

Just one at first, and it was him, Rick. My heart did a little flutter.

His groan was loud and guttural, and slightly pained, followed by another that was even more pained. Sex noises are always so unmistakeable. They churned in my stomach, and made me feel guilty, and awkward, and…
horny
. My breath was shallow as I listened for more. Low, deep grunts in a staccato rhythm, and I couldn’t stop my mind chasing them, wondering what was happening through the wall, even though the pulse between my thighs already knew. Oh God, I knew.

And oh my fucking God, how I wanted to see.

There was still enough wine in my system to urge me on, and my thighs fell open, fingers slipping inside my lacy thong. I wondered if Rick was pinned, held tight to the bed as Carl’s steely body took him. I wondered how much it was hurting, if it really was as rough as it sounded, but soon his groans turned from pained to desperate, and altogether more frantic. I strained my ears for more, hoping for the sound of flesh slapping flesh. Hoping for the sound of Carl, too. Maybe he was whispering, maybe his mouth was on Rick’s ear, telling him how good it felt, how tight he was. Maybe he was talking about me.

Maybe he was talking about what he was going to make me do for my three grand a month.

Maybe next time it would be
me
grunting in pain as Carl slammed me into the bed.

The idea set me on fire, and I could hardly think, hardly breathe, lost to everything but the dirty need to take two men.
Those
two men. I’d wanted Rick on sight, probably more than I’d ever wanted anyone in my life. The genuine confidence in his swagger, his ease in his own skin, the way he flicked his tongue piercing when he knew I was staring at his mouth. But here, safe in the room next door, I wanted Carl, too. I wanted him in a way that scared me, right from the depths of my seedy fantasies. I wanted to be nervous of him, I wanted him to intimidate me, and use me and make me take it all. I wanted to cry out like Rick had as he forced his way inside me.

My clit was on fire under my fingers, my pussy so needy as I slipped two inside, but the noises quietened too soon and left me bereft. I held my breath and listened hard to catch the faintest sound, but there was only a series of quiet groans. The promise of a louder volume was enough to get me out of bed, tiptoeing to the wall. I pressed my ear to the brickwork, and they were still going at it. I could hear the noises from their bed, the thump of wood against brick as a headboard hit against the wall. And Carl, I heard Carl, but his voice was too low to make out any words. It was a no brainer. I drained the last of the water from my glass and placed it against the wall, my ear gently to it.

“Yes, holy fuck yes!”
Rick’s voice.

“Tell me!”

“All of it. Deep. I want it fucking deep.”

A grunt.

A moan.

“It?”

“You. I want you, Carl. Right inside. Stretch me and fuck me deep!”

Another grunt. Louder this time.

A muffled groan. I imagined Rick’s face pressed into the pillows.

More words from Carl but I couldn’t make them out.

A grunt. A moan. I shifted the glass.

Nothing.

If only I could get a little closer.

So quietly I sloped to the doorway, teasing down the handle and praying it didn’t creak. The door didn’t betray me, swinging open with ease and allowing me to stick my head out onto the landing. There was a path of light from their bedroom door, and the temptation was too much. If I could just inch my way along, just enough, maybe I’d be able to see, just a glimpse. Tiny steps took me closer, edging along the wall with shallow breaths. I hit the jackpot as I reached their doorway, the definite sound of flesh slamming flesh, and Carl had a filthy mouth, grunting a string of expletives about Rick’s tight asshole and how fucking close he was, and it was as hot as I’d imagined. I held my position, and slid my fingers back between my legs, brushing my clit as Carl promised to spurt his load into Rick’s hungry ass. I had to see, just a glimpse, just for a moment.

I held my breath as I peered out, just in time to see Carl’s muscular ass as he slammed his way towards climax. I couldn’t get much of a view, not from there, but I couldn’t stop, daring to step out just a little further. There was a bathroom just the other side of the landing, I could see the basin, I could be heading there, one last late night pee before bed. Innocent. It could be innocent.

Carl’s orgasm paralysed me. It fixed me to the spot and stopped me dead. It was raw, and violent. Muscles taut and brutal as they took what he needed. Rick whimpered and it was the most beautifully erotic sound. He wanted it, a stream of
yes, yes, yes
as Carl finished up, two deep thrusts, and his thighs were quivering, tight with exertion.

Mine were quivering, too.

I forgot myself. Gawping openly as Carl rolled from Rick’s back, and my eyes must have flown wide as Carl turned over, breath still ragged as he scooted to the side of the bed and dropped his feet to the floor. I tried to step into the shadows of the bathroom, but I was too late and Carl’s eyes burned me alive, hammering into me as though I was the next hot piece of meat for the pounding.

I reached the bathroom doorway as Rick rolled over, too. His eyes sought me out and they were hooded and hazy, his hair dishevelled. He smiled, but I couldn’t smile back, I was nothing but nerves.

“Bathroom,” I stammered. “Needed to go. I’m so sorry.”

I flinched as Carl got to his feet, his thick cock still hard and veined, and so big my pussy clenched, but he didn’t head in my direction. His smile was dirty and victorious, and I felt like a bunny in a snare. “Strange,” he said. “Since you have an en suite.”

Busted.

I wished the ground would swallow me up.

Carl disappeared out of view, and I heard him pissing. The sound was strangely horny. I stared at Rick and he stared back at me, and he was still smiling. “It’s alright,” he said. “You can watch, it’s cool. We don’t mind.”

But I felt like such a sneaky little bitch.

I was trying to think of words, but my palms were sweaty and my fingers were twitchy. I held them together, contemplating my next move. Into the bathroom or back to bed?

A flush of a toilet and the sound of running water, and then there was Carl again, and scary hot didn’t even come close. His chest was a wall of muscle, his abs taut and defined. His thighs were thick and solid, and the V of his hips was deep and perfectly sculpted. And his cock, oh my God, his beautiful cock. Even at half-mast it was still a monster. He stared me out and worked it slowly with his hand, barely even making an effort, and yet it was swelling before my eyes, bigger and bigger, and I couldn’t stop staring.

I’d never take both of them. Never. I struggled to comprehend taking just him.

“Are you joining us?” he said, his voice hypnotically low.

I didn’t have a voice at all, trapped in the headlights.

He smiled and it was a dirty smile. “Rick needs to come. He’d appreciate your help.”

I tore my eyes from Carl, and Rick was still smiling, his posture relaxed.

“So, how about it, pony girl?” Carl asked. “Are you joining us, or not?”

And suddenly I was aware that he was staring at my tits, or more precisely my nipples that were poking through thin satin. He licked his lips, and my poor heart. It jumped and hammered, and my mouth was dry and my pussy was soaking wet. Rick rolled onto his back and took hold of his dick, and there was a glint of metal in the lamplight.

“Well?” Carl prompted. “What’s it to be? I’ll do the honours if you won’t.”

Fuck or flight.

I glanced back along the landing, to the shadows of the guest bedroom.

Fuck or flight. Fuck or flight. Fuck or flight.

Another glint of metal caught my eye as Rick moved, and his cock was big, too. My mind whizzed at the thought of two big cocks pushing into me, stretching me. And
deep
. Carl demanding I take them all the way.

Carl pulled back the bedcovers and stepped aside, waiting.

Fuck or flight.

I took a breath.

And then I stepped inside.

Victorious.

I couldn’t resist flashing Rick a look that told him so, but he wasn’t looking at me, he was looking right at her. I can’t say I blamed him. The girl was born to be fucked. An entirely indecent nightdress offered her no modesty. It barely covered her nipples, pulled tight over the creamy swell of her tits. They were bigger than they’d appeared in her dress, spilling over the fabric and resting heavily against her ribs. Her nipples were hard little nubs and they betrayed her, as did the dark little bunch of her knickers, wet enough that the fabric was pressed to her slit. Her legs were long, and riding sure suited her. Her thighs were toned and strong, her arse shapely before it nipped into her waist.

She was carrying a little flesh around her hips, and it was delightful. The girl’s body was delightful. And my cock was hard again.

She’d noticed, too, eying me warily, despite her blatant hunger for a piece of Rick.

She’d intended to fuck. There’s no way she’d have opted for the fantasy nightdress otherwise. That suited me, too. I have no time for games or the useless pretence of being coy.

In silence we took each other’s measure, and she showed her grit.

The girl made her way over slowly, delicately, eyes wide and lips parted. I watched the rise and fall of her breasts as she breathed, sensing the thump of her heartbeat as she battled her nerves.

The wine would have certainly helped.

She approached to within reach and I patted the bed, indicating she should take up position beside Rick. The bed was more than ample for three, we’d been sure of that when we’d purchased it. It was decadent and comfortable, with exceptionally decent springs. She tested it out, her tight little rump perched on the edge.

Her eyes met mine, and she gasped as I stepped closer, pulling her legs up and away from me and shimmying over to Rick.

It’s always such an error of judgement on their part. They invariably think that Rick is the
nice
one. The
safe
one. And while Rick is both of those things, he’s also a dirty, kinky little freak who’s easily as brutal as me in the right conditions. Stretching is his thing, stretching and body fluids, and boundary-pushing filth.