Chapter 12

Pamela stretched her arms high, emitted a deep, drawn-out yawn, and blinked her weary eyes. A blur of wavy blonde hair, her head thrashed from side to side as the bed she’d spent the night bounced and creaked in a filthy, relentless fashion beneath her.

“Morning there, Pam-Pam,” Scarlett said with a shrug, hollowing one cheek inward and biting down. “And ... sorry? We didn’t mean to wake you again.”

Pamela rubbed at the nagging ache in her lower back and gazed into the face of her best friend. Scarlett’s features were ablaze as she rode Charlie’s cock cowgirl-style, her breasts, high and round and full, flopping about.

“I don’t want you to be sorry. Don’t ever be sorry.” Pamela had to clear the morning gravel from her throat before she spoke again. “Waking up like this is so incredibly sexy. It never gets old.”

She reached up and twined her fingers around Scarlett’s hand before focusing on their paying customer. “Charlie, sweetheart! Look at you and Scarlett starting the morning off right. She’s pretty insatiable even this early, isn’t she?”

Charlie’s body, though running on fumes, had a profound reaction to Pamela’s touch and sweet disposition. He had become lost in the sensations that continued to build, the quickening, the pull from within. “I gotta fuck you one more time, Pamela.” His voice was strained, raspy. “At least one more time.”

Charlie returned to the brothel last evening just as Lindsay and Ryker were finishing up their one-hour GFE. Still overwound with visions of marital bliss permeating his brain (and certainly not expected back so soon), Charlie spoke to Colt and requested Pamela’s presence the instant he arrived. During his drive from Vegas, he came up with an idea and had to share it with her.

“You were incredible earlier, sweetheart. You gave me the time of my life and made me happier than I’ve ever been before. Who knows what the future holds? Who knows if I’ll ever be able to make it out here again? Tomorrow isn’t guaranteed. It’s not for any of us, right?” Charlie was becoming emotional, a fate that often befell older virgins who visited the house, so Pamela gripped his hand to offer some moral support.

“It’s okay, baby. Talk to me.”

“I drove all the way back to Vegas but thought about you the entire time. You made every fantasy I’ve ever had become a reality, and I needed to see you again. So, I came back. Every fantasy, that is, except one.”

“Oh?” Her brows shot up. “What’s that?”

“I’d like to book an overnight party – a threesome – with you and the redhead. What’s her name again? And is she available?”

Fortunately, Scarlett was available, and they partied through the night as a triad.

“Oh my God, that feels so good. Oh God.” Scarlett’s body bounced around like a seasoned bull rider atop Charlie’s dick as he thrust his hips upward, his abdomen frozen, to create more mutual stimulation. “Keep going! Keep going!” The sound of frantic fucking mixed with her urgent pleas. “Oh baby. Don’t stop. I’m gonna come.”

After three hours of one-on-one bliss yesterday afternoon, Charlie had been the centerpiece of a Pamela and Scarlett sandwich since eleven o’clock last evening with fragmented patches of sleep mixed in here and there. It was past nine in the morning now, and Charlie had forty-one minutes remaining in this threesome overnight party that set him back an additional $15,000 (plus another $750 in credit card processing fees).

Long specialty parties like this didn’t come cheap.

“That’s just the way Scarlett prefers being fucked too.” Pamela trailed her tongue along Charlie’s neck and collarbone, down to his pectoral region, and he couldn’t suppress the burst of air that escaped his lips. His heart jackhammered away. “I looooove watching your dick slide in and out of her like this.”

Charlie had been spoiled rotten by these two. Best of all, it wasn’t over yet.

Pamela’s eyes flashed as she glanced back up at her girlfriend. “What do you say, Scarlett? Do I get another piece of Charlie too?”

Apparently lost in her own personal ecstasy, Scarlett placed both hands across Charlie’s chest and used it as a balancing point. She bounced atop his cock harder, faster, full of energy. “Give me a minute, baby.” Scarlett’s eyes, a lambent, jade green, soon closed, and she lifted her chin skyward. “Just one min...”

She let out a high-pitched screech and faked her twelfth orgasm since their party began over ten hours ago. That seemed like forever and poor Scarlett couldn’t wait for this ordeal to finally end. I’m sick and tired of this pathetic excuse for a man bulldozing my insides. She was more than happy to hand the reins over to Pamela. Thank God. It’s her turn now. Still, Scarlett’s actions were convincing and had Charlie fooled.

Pamela rose to her knees in the aftermath, hugged Scarlett, and kissed the side of her head, her face, her ears, her lips. She tasted like alcohol and sex, and Pamela had a reaction of her own. These ladies had a strong chemistry and preferred having threesomes with their customers. It was much better than a typical one-on-one. The financial payoff was far more substantial, and they shared physical responsibilities instead of being the sole focus.

Pamela still had a hand on Scarlett’s ass and continued to serenade her with kisses and ear nibbles.

“Oh, dear God. That felt good. So good.” Scarlett was all smiles as her body crested downward from the height of an imaginary orgasm. Instead of focusing on Charlie, she met Pamela’s mouth for an amorous kiss that included plenty of tongue action. Though not bisexual in her personal, away-from-the-ranch life, Scarlett had no qualms having sex with Pamela or any other lady employed here. But only if the price is right. They tilted and twisted their heads until finding the right angle.

Charlie lay there watching, heart still thumping.

“You want your turn, sweetheart?” You better say yes.

Blushing and biting her lip, Pamela nodded and cast her gaze toward Charlie. “I want to fuck him again.” Though exhausted and wishing she could sleep for the next seventy-two hours, Pamela had a job to do. “Charlie’s my guy.”