Chapter 3

“Well, those two aren’t mutually exclusive, you know,” I winked at both ladies, who didn’t seem to mind that I called shotgun on the front passenger seat.

“True, and if I didn’t think that it was perhaps a sucker bet, it would be interesting to make things interesting about ... that issue. Or you can just tell us,” Monique laughed as she drove us to work.

“Pretty please?” Rachel gave me the most adorable pout.

“What makes you ladies so sure that I know ... oh, hell, who am I kidding? They really do enjoy both, you’re both right, okay? You’re also right about it being a sucker bet, girls,” I chuckled as we pulled into the Burger King drive-thru instead of work first.

“Um ... this isn’t work, you know,” I pointed out to Monique.

“No, but you haven’t eaten yet, I can just tell, and Sahar gave us strict orders to get you breakfast, on her dime no less. Here’s her credit card! She also told us to ‘stuff our faces,’ I should add. Naturally, she wanted some breakfast for herself, too. Now, what do you want and bear in mind that money’s no object?” Monique insisted, waving Sahar’s plastic indeed.

“Wow ... damn! This must be something very important, for her to make sure that we get a damn good breakfast, even if fast food,” I commented, just as I felt Rachel’s breath on the back of my neck.

“Oh, I love their croissants! Nice and buttery!” Rachel exclaimed.

“Me, too!” I declared.

“Hey, if you’re gonna say things like that, we should at least get to harass you first!” Monique complained as she ran her fingers over my left hand.

“Why would you want to do that?” I inquired as we through the drive-thru and ordered our meals from the rather lispy cashier.

“Ten to one, he’s as gay as they come and he’ll dig Hank here!” Rachel laughed now.

“What if he’s bi instead and more into you two ladies?” I challenged them.

“Ooooh ... a bet! How about we make this one interesting?” Monique interjected.

“Oh, and what would the stakes be, and how we would find out the results?” I queried.

“We ask him directly! Duh! That’s our Hank, so smart, but so dense at times!” Rachel needled me.

“Okay, really quick, what stakes? If I win, you girls have to pose bottomless for me all day long and stay that way for me at my place all night long,” I went for something daring, calling their bluff.

“Done!” Rachel agreed with shocking ease.

“Deal!” Monique fist-bumped her.

“Woah, I thought that would be too rich for your blood! Mind you, I don’t think that Sahar will hold you to that part,” I grinned and blushed.

“Oh, you don’t know us as well as you think, mister!” Monique shouted as another car moved forward, “and you don’t know Sahar as well as we do, it seems.”

“She’s right, papi! You really need to learn to read women better! That’s your only flaw, if you ask me. Otherwise, you’d be able to seduce every woman alive!” Rachel agreed rather oddly.

“Well, since you’re not bluffing, what are your stakes?” I asked them now.

“If we win ... I want the right to sit on your lap whenever I wish!” Rachel definitely pushed the envelope, “don’t worry, I’ll clear it with Sahar. Trust me. She’ll definitely hold you to that.”

“If we win, I can hold, hug, and squeeze you as tightly as I wish, whenever I wish, clutch you to my breasts and everything. I have a rather nice bust, right?” Monique referred to her rather ample bosom, the cleavage nearly a perfect combo with her fulsome tits.

By now, we were at the payment window, and sure enough, Monique asked the cashier, whose name was Martin, that rather awkward question as she paid for the breakfaster orders.

“Oh, honey, I’m as queer as a three-dollar bill, a loud, sassy, flamingo of a Latin homo puta! I’m so gay that I should be dating Ted Allen or something! What about him? Oh, wait, I’m reading bi guy alert on my gaydar, sweetie! Anyway, here’s your croissants, hash browns, OJs, and coffees!” Martin made it abundantly clear where he stood, “and if you don’t mind drag queens, I one of those, too.”

“I knew it!” Monique gloated as she passed the food to Rachel and me, “get ready to pay up, sugar!”

“She’s right, papi! You’re our cuddle buddy now!” Rachel warned me even as we pulled out, but not before Martin slipped me his number through Monique.

“Somehow, I’m not afraid,” I taunted both women.

“That’s because I haven’t sat down on your lap when you’ve had a boner the size of Mexico!” Rachel deliberately played up her heritage by pronouncing her native country’s name with the “h” sound instead of the x.

“Or had me smother you good and tight with my rather awesome tits,” Monique threatened me, making me a little more nervous.

‘Yeah, terrifying!” I chuckled sarcastically as I ate my breakfast in the parking lot before we headed back inside Sahar’s Book Bazaar.

“Famous last words,” Sahar announced as she walked out to the parking lot to greet us.

“Sahar, thanks for the lift to work ... and the breakfast!” I greeted her as we got out and Monique handed her back her credit card and meal ... a bit more food than Sahar usually ate.

“Thanks for coming in, my prince,” Sahar welcomed me rather formally, taking my hand as if I were a lover instead of a worker.

“My queen,” I smiled as I opened the door for my boss and she slid her hand down the back of my pants.

“Damn ... if I didn’t know better, I would say that you’re flirting with me, Sahar,” I called her by her first name, a rare privilege that she had insisted upon with me from day one.

“Who says that you know better?” Monique teased me, making Sahar and Rachel both giggle a bit.

That was when we walked inside and I noticed that there were no customers, nor any lights on at all. What kind of workday was this in a bookstore? Rachel even locked the front door behind us and no one even bothered to put up an open sign. This was all very strange, as was what greeted me when I reached Sahar’s office in the heart of the building. There, tied to her office chair and gagged, was Sahar’s husband, Dennis Barker. I looked closer and saw that he wore only his boxers and he still struggled with his bonds. What in the world was going on here?

Sahar must have noticed how my eyes bugged out, because she hurried to plant a very passionate kiss on my mouth, slipping me plenty of tongue. Then she walked over to her hubby and removed his gag, which consisted of her panties, to stuff plenty of croissant in his mouth. While Dennis found himself eating, Sahar knelt and unzipped my pants to free my cock and put her luscious lips around it. Her long, silky, jet-black tresses looked quite sensual as they flowed down her back while she licked and sucked me.

“Surprised? It seems that Dennis here got caught with his hand in the cookie jar and I didn’t like it much at all. We thought of calling the cops, but he begged me not to do so, even threatened her with turning Rachel here into ICE, and that was when we snapped and came up with this alternative form of justice. He’s our dirty little secret for the moment, until we can decide what to do with him, and in the meantime, we all need to pull an extra shift, on payroll, supposedly for ‘special renovation.’ That’s code for guard duty.

“You see, some time back, I asked for a trial separation. Dennis was fine with it at first, though he didn’t grasp why. I suppose that he was as happy as I was to have a break from the bickering and other issues in our marriage. To be frank, I was a virgin when I eloped with Dennis, defying my parents, and we were both happy at first. I thought that it was love, but now I see that it was both my escape and his.

“The problem came when he pimped me out to several of his friends and associates, his idea, not mine, and it unleashed my inner slut. Once she was released, she refused to go back inside. Thus the trial separation, as I wanted to have a better taste of independence, to take a lover or two, or more, of my own choosing, to see if there was more of life than one as his private whore. When I saw you browsing in my store, I knew right away that you were perfect for the role of paramour. Ripe cherry for plucking, babe.

“As for hubby here, well, I quickly discovered that he only wanted me back when he realized my shop would be a great place to launder some money for his kingpin friends and other associates from organized crime. He also learned that if we divorced, I could be forced to testify against him due to lack of spousal privilege. These were two very sudden reasons to want me back. It wasn’t to give us one more chance to make it as a couple, something that I was willing to do, even though I didn’t hold out much hope of making it work by then. I hoped to open up the marriage, but he wouldn’t go for that, except to lend me out as he wished, which wasn’t the same thing.

“He wanted things to return to how they were and so I had one foot out the door already when I found out that he had embezzled some of my petty cash and sold off some merchandise without my permission. That was what I meant by the hand in the proverbial cookie jar, of course. How’s that hash brown, Dennis? Oh, wait, I haven’t gotten to it yet, have I?” Sahar rose from sucking my dick long enough to put the hash browns in her own mouth and share it with him in a kiss, “like the extra flavor? That’s Hank’s precum! I just kissed you straight from sucking his yummy cock!”

I couldn’t help but grow even harder as I watched my sexy boss feed her captive hubby hash browns that tasted of my cock. I was even more pleased when she turned over the feeding to Monique and Rachel for a moment as she resumed sucking my prick, her tongue bathing me from head to base with her spit. She practically inhaled me more than once, my pubes tickling her nose, much to my amusement. While the girls gave Dennis some more coffee, Sahar licked and sucked me without mercy, holding onto my waist to keep me from buckling in case my knees gave out while I came. Her mouth felt like a spa soothing my prick and my balls, it was so wet and hot, soaking and rubbing me just right.

At last, of course, it was too much for me, especially while being watched as I fucked Sahar’s face by her own husband no less! I didn’t want to just cum in my boss’s mouth without warning, so I mouthed it to her. She winked at me and intensified her efforts, running her tongue over the glans several times as if to force me to cum. It worked, as I spurted a rope or two or three in her mouth before I suddenly recalled with panic that my dick had been in Jill’s bottom earlier that morning. I just hoped that Sahar didn’t get sick thanks to this ass-to-mouth action.

“Mmmm ... whose butt am I tasting? Because that flavor is quite clearly one of ass. Some lucky bitch got her sweet booty porked this morning! I don’t blame her! She has great taste! Here, honey, you don’t deserve it, but you get to sample some strange tushy from my tongue along with this snowball!” Sahar winked again at me, licked her lips, and planted her mouth on her ex’s, giving him a taste of Jill’s backdoor as well as my hot jizz.

The grimace that Dennis gave her told me that he didn’t appreciate something in the flavor. He looked green in the face, as if truly repulsed, but Sahar simply put the pair of panties back in his mouth before he could complain. The ladies all laughed, especially when Dennis got shaky as if in need of a cigarette, as he was a rather heavy smoker. Sahar noticed, and being the dutiful wife that she was, took a cancer stick from his pack. Then she ran it along Monique’s butt-crack first, followed by Rachel’s before replacing the panties gag with the same cig, which she just lit as he made faces over something that he tasted.

“What, not partial to the exotic flavors that I just offered you? Too bad! After what you did, count yourself lucky that I haven’t just hit the back of your head with a shovel and burned your unconscious body before you could wake up! Next to that, having to try new tastes such as cum and butt sweat is tame and merciful, if you ask me,” Sahar taunted her husband as she planted a searing hot kiss on my mouth.

“Please, lover, take me back! I don’t care that you’re only nineteen and have no money, that I’m your boss, or that you’re apparently fucking at least one other woman! You’re my favorite lover, hands down! If I’ve learned anything from years of marriage, it’s that fidelity is overrated, jealousy is stupid, and sharing is so much better! I never had half as many orgasms with Dennis as with you and I hope to experience so much more! Fuck fidelity! Dennis was faithful, as far as I can tell, or at least mostly so, and he was far less loving than you!” Sahar encouraged me with her hands on my buns as she kept me from pulling up my pants.

My answer to her consisted of plenty of tongue lodged in her mouth and my hands on her own cheeks to make it clear that I still wanted her, too. Sahar looked at me with so much love that I could tell that Dennis had thrown away a real catch somehow. When she loved a man, she would truly walk through fire for him. This classy, elegant, whip-smart, accomplished, drop-dead gorgeous Persian princess could make men drool from miles away and she wanted nothing more than to please me!

“Yeah, he’s a stud! Even the cashier at the Burger King wanted him and he was a dude! A flamboyantly gay dude, of course. I wonder if he Tops or bottoms! Either way, he wanted some booty from Hank, that’s for sure. A barrio boy, a drag queen, too, from what he told us. In fact, loverboy here made a bet with us ... and lost!” Rachel winked at me as she recalled our wager.

“Yes, and now I’m wondering if his mother and her girlfriend are really just lesbian lovers or do they share Hank, too?” Monique grinned.

“Well, yes ... we’re all lovers, okay? My mother, Morgan Reynolds, is intimate with both Jill Lawson and me ... and obviously, I’m involved with Jill, too. You caught us. Full-on triad, if you don’t count Jill’s hubby or my Persian princess here! Or my two apparent snugglebunnies, assuming that I’m held to that bet,” I blushed a bit.

“You should keep your end of the bet, shouldn’t you? You will, right? That’s the sort of man that I love. A man who honors his word. The man that I know that you are and wish to be. I don’t give two fucks about you screwing your mother or her friend. Actually, that’s not true. It turns me on a bit. You’re a king. Kings get to do that kind of thing. Yes, yes, I know, not actually a king, but you’re my King. Kings also honor their vows, am I right? What was the bet?” Sahar asked me.