Page 31 of Vegas Daddies

Her succulent wetnessis something I’ve been desperate to taste again.

I woke up this morning with a stinking headache and a dehydrated mouth, but a glass of water wasn’t the first thing I reached for when I awoke. It was my cock as I relived the memory of Alice naked on my couch, my tongue on her pussy.

Alice is a beautiful, blonde princess who deserves her own castle and a four-post king-size bed, and she wants us to sleep with herhere? In the doctor’s office?

There’s no blanket. No pillows. A few pieces of medical equipment, paper towels, and a computer are the only objects in this room, and they serve no purpose. We need blankets. Candles. Some calm jazz music playing in the background on a record player, and you can hear thetick tickof it going around. A bed is what we need, with Egyptian cotton sheets to comfort her naked skin.

“Not here,” I say. Lifesaver flashes me anare-you-fucking-kiddinglook.“Let’s go to the city.”

“You hate the city,” Match says.

“I know,” I continue, “but come on, gentlemen. Let’s make it romantic for her. Special. It’s our first time all together. There are better places than your office, Lifey. No offense.”

But he’s taken offense. Doesn’t surprise me one bit. The man prides himself too much on his work sometimes. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” He folds his arms.

I turn to Match.

He’s supposed to be the music conductor of the group and harmonize things out, but he flashes me daggers, chin trembling.

He probably can’t evenmakeit to the fucking city.

I smooth my hands through my hair. This might not be important to the other two, but to me, Alice is everything. A living, breathing manifestation of what I’ve been dreaming of for years. Goddesses don’t deserve to have sex on tables in laser-white rooms that smell of antiseptic. They deserve comfort. Vanilla-scented candles, rose petals, and vintage record players that hum melodic passages just as beautiful as she is.

“I don’t know,” I say. “I don’t think it’s?—”

“You’re such a romantic.” Alice droops her lips like she feels sorry for me. “But romance isn’t what I need.” Her fingers find the hem of her white tee.

Then she’s lifting it over her head and tossing it aside.

A hand comes to rest on her hip.

Fuck. I feel like a starved dog.

Matching orange underwear complements her figure in the most heavenly way. She flicks her hair from her shoulders, staring at us as if she’s waiting for one of us to pounce. It’s lace she’s wearing too, the kind that plays tricks on the eyes. Could the material be a little sheer?

Two silver jewels in her ears are the only piercings she has on her body. The diamond ring we bought her last night still sits on her finger too.

“What would you like us to do to you, sweetheart?” Lifesaver asks, circling around her body. A hand comes out to snake around her waist, emphasizing her curves further.

“Fuck me, all of you.”

“And that’s definitely what you want?”

She nods. “Uh-huh.”

“Okay,” Lifesaver whispers in her ear. He travels his hands up to her bra, reaching around to unclasp the material. It falls to the floor.

Her two soft breasts are all my eyes can focus on. They’re round, somehow even more so than the last time we undressed her. Already, her pink nipples are hard.

Lifesaver massages his hand over one, causing Match to grab himself.

“Do you want to lie down on the table, sweetheart? Let us take care of you?”

“Yeah,” she says, hoisting herself up onto the table.

Her body stretches out along the length of the table, and I watch her breasts heave in time to her short, quick breaths that growmore and more heavy as Lifesaver ventures his hands south to the lace panties.

Match joins the action and presses his thumb in between her legs to feel her. “Oh my god, you’re wet already.”

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