Working Girl

It was just after midnight when the phone rang.

I was already in my pink sleep shirt, halfway into bed with a sappy romance novel and a glass of water I didn't really want. At that hour, calls never meant anything good--unless you knew where to find the fun.

I let it ring twice before answering, already guessing what it was about.

"Mmm. You need some company tonight?" I purred into the receiver. "That can be arranged."

It had been a slow week. And while I didn't mind a little peace and quiet, I never turned down a chance to play--especially when it came with a nice stack of spending cash.

"The casino hotel? You and a friend?" I let the words hang in the air, then chuckled. "So you're into that kind of party."

He was eager--almost panting. I could hear it in his voice. Desperate enough to pay, but dumb enough to try negotiating.

"Three hundred each," I said smoothly. "One hour."

He hesitated.

"You're at a casino," I reminded him, leaning back against the pillows. "If you can afford to blow money on poker and drinks, you can afford me."

Another pause.

"Or you can both spend the night jerking off and thinking about what you missed."

That did it.

I ended the call with a smirk and tossed the phone onto the bed. The sleep shirt hit the floor a second later.

⸻

I headed straight to the bathroom to get myself primed.

Smooth first--always. A quick shave of my lady parts, just enough to make everything silky and soft. Then a cloud of hairspray to give my shoulder-length brown hair that wild, tousled lift. Sexy but effortless.

Makeup was minimal: a sweep of blush, smoky shadow to accent my green eyes, and bold red lips that screamed invitation. One last spritz of perfume between my small, perky tits--just enough to tease without overpowering.

The outfit was already hanging in the closet, waiting for the right night. Black lacy garter belt, sheer stockings, a short black cotton skirt that flirted with professional but knew better. The blazer matched--tailored and tight, fastened with two buttons. The neckline plunged nearly to my navel, revealing enough to get the imagination running while barely leaving just enough mystery to make their mouths water.

No panties, of course. Why bother?

I clipped on a faux pearl choker--cheap enough not to cry over if things got rough--and was slipping in the matching earrings when the alarm rang--it was time to go.

Perfect timing.

I slid into the leather driver's seat.

The AC was cranked too high, and the inside of my blazer brushed across my nipples with every bump in the road. They stiffened almost immediately, hypersensitive to every movement, every whisper of fabric. By the time I reached the casino, I was slick between my thighs and more than a little ready myself.

Let them think I was excited for them. That kind of illusion only added to the power I had.

The ride took about thirty minutes--quiet interstate, dark farmland, the occasional passing truck--and then the glow of the riverfront casino came into view. Neon lights shimmered across the water like a promise.

The parking lot was packed. Business was good.

I pulled up to the hotel entrance, and I stepped out, giving the valet a peek of long sensuous legs as I handed over a crisp bill.

He grinned and nodded, excitement in his eyes.

I stepped out into the cool night, heels clicking across the pavement, ready to make a little magic.

⸻

The moment I stepped through the hotel doors, every male gaze in the lobby found me like magnets snapping to steel.

It started slow--a head turning at the check-in desk, a drink paused mid-sip at the lounge bar. Then more. Eyes drifting from slot machines, conversation, cell phone screens. All of them watching me.

Their stares were heat on my skin, trailing down my legs, up the smooth line of my thighs, pausing at the sharp edge where my blazer met bare cleavage. I could feel it--every last one of them mentally stripping me naked and taking turns imagining what they'd do if they had the balls.

The energy was electric, and it crackled across my skin, feeding something deep inside me. I felt the slow curl of arousal pulse between my thighs. Power always did that to me. The kind of raw, undiluted power that came from being wanted--no, needed--by men who would never, ever get to have me.

I strode across the marble lobby with the confidence of a queen crossing her throne room. My heels clicked with sharp precision, echoing beneath the chandeliers. I didn't look at them right away. I made them wait.

But just before I reached the elevator, I let my gaze sweep casually across the room--and drank in the hunger.

A businessman in a tailored suit shifted in his seat, trying to discreetly adjust the sudden bulge in his pants. An older man stared openly, jaw slack, forgetting his drink as his eyes zeroed in on my plunging neckline. One young guy nudged his friend, murmured something, and both of them turned to watch me as if I were walking slow-motion across a screen.

I smiled then. Just a little smirk, a curve of red lips that said yes, I see you, and no, you'll never touch.

One man--mid-thirties, cocky--peeled away from the herd and started toward me, his confidence clearly bolstered by a few drinks and too much testosterone.

I reached the elevator with perfect timing and hit the button. The doors slid open like magic. I stepped inside, turned, and met his gaze just as he picked up speed.

He was two steps from reaching me when I smiled sweetly... and let the doors close.

He caught a glimpse of my grin through the narrowing gap--right before it sealed shut.

I giggled to myself as the elevator hummed to life and began its ascent. God, I loved this game. The chase. The teasing. The way they looked at me like I was some forbidden fruit they'd never get a taste of. It made the anticipation of what came next even sweeter.

By the time the elevator chimed for the sixth floor, my pulse was already thrumming with heat.

⸻

The hallway was hushed, carpeted in gold and maroon, dim lights casting a soft glow over polished wood doors. I walked halfway down and stopped in front of Room 614. Took a breath. Adjusted my jacket. Knocked once.

The door opened a moment later.

He was tall. Broad shoulders. Dark eyes. Clean-shaven jaw. The kind of man who looked like he belonged on a football field or in a luxury car ad.

"Thank you for coning on such short notice," he said, voice a warm rumble. He stepped aside and held the door open for me.

I stepped in with a warm, sultry smile, the one that said you're going to remember me for the rest of your life. I greeted both men with soft kisses on the cheek, lingering just long enough to let them catch the scent of my perfume.

"Well, I haven't come yet," I replied, walking in slowly, letting my heels click against the tile, letting him watch..

The suite was tasteful and expensive. A small sitting area with a plush sofa and coffee table. A circular hot tub, sunken into the floor, bubbling quietly under soft recessed lights. It sat between the bedroom and the lounge, perfectly positioned to be seen from anywhere in the room. The centerpiece, really. Like me.

The king-sized bed loomed beyond it--neatly made for now.

That won't last long, I thought, and smiled to myself.

"Gentlemen," I purred, letting my fingers trail lightly across Frank's arm as I passed. "I do hope you're ready."

I knew this room, this moment, this act. But tonight had a special edge. I could feel it. The air practically shimmered with anticipation.

We moved into the bedroom, the suite dimly lit with low amber lamps. A king-sized bed stood center stage, inviting, waiting. I turned to face them, letting the hem of my skirt flirt with the tops of my stockings.

"Before we get carried away," I said, voice light, "let's talk business."

Frank was quick--he always was when he wanted something. He tugged out his wallet and counted six crisp fifties without blinking. His fingers were steady, practiced. I bit my lip watching him, admiring the cut of his suit, the broad stretch of his shoulders. God, I had wanted that body.

Steve, however, stood frozen. His hand hovered near his back pocket. The hesitation was delicious.

He ran his fingers through his thick dark hair, the way men always did when they were nervous. His green eyes flicked to me, then back to the carpet, then back again. He started pacing slowly at the foot of the bed, his whole body tense.

"I don't know, man..." he muttered, clearly talking to himself more than us. "If my wife finds out, she'll rip my balls off."

I tilted my head and smiled sweetly, letting a note of playful venom slip into my voice. "Then don't tell her. Wives can be such jealous little things."

Steve stopped mid-stride, his eyes locked on me. That look--hungry, guilty, turned-on--made my pulse skip. I saw the exact moment the devil on his shoulder won.

Time for the kill.

I unbuttoned my jacket slowly, teasingly, drawing out the moment with just the pad of my finger. When it slid from my shoulders and dropped to the carpet, I stood there bare from the waist up, nipples already hard and begging for attention.

I arched my back and ran my hands slowly up the soft skin of my belly to cup my breasts, giving them the attention I knew both men wanted to give me themselves. My fingers teased and tugged at my peach-colored nipples until they stood out, stiff and flushed.

"Come on, Steve," I whispered, locking eyes with him. "You really want to fuck me, don't you?"

His groan was low and primal. He moved to his wallet like a man possessed and peeled off three hundred-dollar bills with trembling fingers. He didn't say a word--just handed them over, eyes never leaving my chest.

Men are so predictable, I thought with a grin, tucking the bills into the pocket of my discarded jacket. Then, from that same pocket, I pulled out two shiny foil wrappers and held them up like prizes.

Frank's face twisted immediately. "Really? Can't we pass on those?"

I turned to him slowly, blinking as if he'd just spoken another language. "You expect me to fuck the two of you raw?"

He gave a little shrug, those gorgeous shoulders rolling like a guilty schoolboy caught cheating. "I had hoped so..."

I took a slow step toward him, my bare breasts just inches from his chest, my voice dropping to a seductive whisper. "Frank, darling... I love how hopeful you are."

I tapped the condoms against his shirt. "But hope doesn't stop STDs."

He opened his mouth to argue, but I cut him off with a smile that said try me.

"Another hundred each, and maybe I forget the foil this time."

Frank sighed with theatrical defeat, but he didn't hesitate. He reached into his wallet again and handed over two more bills--big ones this time. I slipped them into my jacket with a wink.

"Thanks for picking up the tab, baby," I said, then turned to Steve. "Tell him he's a good friend."

Steve just nodded, mouth half-open, like he wasn't sure if he'd stumbled into heaven or hell.

Probably both.

⸻

Frank's mouth was hot on mine, his kiss deep and insistent. His tongue moved with the confidence of a man who knew exactly how I liked to be kissed--slow at first, then greedy. I melted into it, drunk on his taste, the heat of his breath, the subtle scrape of stubble along my jaw.

Behind me, Steve pressed close, his presence undeniable. His hands slid along my hips, strong and curious, before cupping my ass with both palms and pulling me tight to him. I could feel him--his cock thick, hard, and straining through his pants, nudging against the curve of my backside with growing impatience.

The sensation of both of them--surrounding me, pressing into me, touching me--sent a sharp thrill through my body. My skin prickled, heat blooming between my thighs like a low, steady flame. God, I could feel myself getting wet already. And I was actually getting paid for this as well

I broke away from Frank's kiss just long enough to let out a slow, breathy laugh. "Mmm... are you two planning to behave, or am I about to be thoroughly misbehaved with?"

They didn't answer--at least not with words.

Steve's hands slid up my sides and over my ribs until they met Frank's, both men cupping my bare breasts from either side. Their palms were warm and rough, their fingers skilled as they began to explore me, brushing across my stiff, aching nipples. They worked in tandem, teasing, squeezing, rolling each sensitive peak between their fingers. My body arched, caught between them, surrendering to the sensation.

I tilted my head and kissed Frank again, wet and open-mouthed, then turned and gave Steve the same--just as hungry, just as deep. My lips tingled with heat, my heart racing as I kissed one, then the other, back and forth like I couldn't decide who I wanted more. And maybe I didn't. Maybe I wanted everything.

My hands moved with purpose now, reaching for their belts, their buttons, stroking the hard lines of muscle beneath their shirts. God, they were built--still toned and broad, like athletes who hadn't let age slow them down. My fingers wandered along Frank's firm chest, tracing the ridge of his abs, then drifted to Steve's belly, warm and tight beneath his shirt, a fine dusting of hair beneath my fingertips.

They were both hard--aching hard--and I could see it now, their cocks pressing visibly against the fronts of their pants. I smiled wickedly and let my hands slide down between them.

Frank groaned when I palmed him through his trousers, the size and weight of him impossible to ignore. Thick. Solid. Ready. Steve sucked in a breath as my other hand cupped his bulge, stroking slowly along the length of him through the fabric. He was longer than Frank--noticeably so--and curved just enough that I imagined how it would feel pressing up against the sweet spot inside me.

I licked my lips, caught in a moment of gleeful indecision. "God," I whispered, half to myself, "you boys brought me quite the dilemma."

They chuckled, but their hands didn't stop. Frank kissed down my neck as Steve flicked his thumbs across my nipples again, sending little jolts of heat through my core.

Together, they moved lower. I felt the fingers of one--maybe both--find the side zipper on my skirt. A gentle tug. A whisper of sliding fabric. The skirt loosened and fell to the floor in a slow puddle of black cotton, leaving me in nothing but stockings and heels.

The cool air kissed the heat between my thighs, and I knew they could smell me--my arousal slick and eager, dripping with anticipation.

They dropped to their knees like I was something holy, their mouths returning to my breasts. Frank suckled my right nipple, slow and purposeful, while Steve flicked and licked the left, switching between soft sucks and teasing bites. Their mouths were warm and greedy, and I whimpered, just once, unable to hold it in.

I reached down between them, fingers slipping beneath their waistbands. My hands found skin. Then heat. Then the velvet hardness of two cocks that were more than I dreamed of--thicker, longer, pulsing with desire.

I wrapped my fingers around them both, stroking slowly. One hand for each man.

They moaned against me, mouths still fastened to my breasts. I could feel their cocks twitching in my hands, their balls heavy in my palms as I gently cupped and caressed them.

My breath came faster. My thighs were slick. My whole body was alive, humming, poised.

And we hadn't even started yet.

I dropped to my knees between them, not out of submission, but out of intention.

I knelt like a priestess before her altar, not to be taken--but to give, to honor, to worship.

Their hands trembled slightly as they unfastened their pants. And then--there they were. Two thick, throbbing cocks standing proudly before me. Steve's arched with a graceful curve, long and eager, already glistening at the tip. Frank's was thicker, blunt and powerful, jutting straight from his hips like it had every intention of claiming me whole.

My breath hitched. I smiled.

God, I adored cocks--especially when they were this ready, this exposed, this desperate. Especially when I was the reason.

I leaned in, pressing a slow kiss to the tip of Steve's cock, soft lips meeting velvet skin. He groaned, the sound raw and needy. Then I turned and gave Frank the same--a lingering kiss on the head of his shaft, followed by a gentle swirl of my tongue. His body tensed. He hissed through his teeth.

Both men stood above me, one on either side, and I looked up at them with a smirk, their cocks poised at my lips like offerings.

I licked them both--back and forth, one tip then the other--my tongue painting lazy strokes across their slick heads. Precum coated my lips. I savored the taste. Salt and heat and desire.

My hands moved without conscious thought, fingers wrapping around their shafts. I stroked them slowly, enjoying the contrast--Frank thick and heavy in my left hand, Steve long and twitching in my right. They moaned in stereo, their bodies reacting to my touch like instruments perfectly in tune.

I leaned into Steve first. His cock slid between my lips, and I sucked him deep, feeling the smooth glide of him across my tongue. My throat welcomed him like an old friend--tight and warm--and I let myself sink forward until my nose was buried in the soft, musky hair at his base.

He gasped. "Holy shit..."

His cock pulsed in my mouth, and I looked up at him as I swallowed him whole, loving the way his face flushed, the way his hands curled into fists at his sides.

When I finally pulled back for air, saliva clung in a silvery string from my lip to his cock. I gave it one last lick before turning to Frank.

My fingers never stopped stroking Steve as I opened wide for Frank. He was thicker--God, so thick--and I had to work to take him in. My lips stretched around him, and my jaw ached almost instantly, but I loved it. The challenge. The fullness. The way he growled when I began to suck.

He grabbed my hair--not roughly, not yet--and held me steady as he began to thrust, slow at first, then deeper, fuller, until he was gliding down my throat in smooth, wet strokes. I closed my eyes, focused on the feel of him, the taste, the heat, the weight of his cock moving in and out of my mouth like a metronome of lust.

I was floating. Drenched. Soaking wet between my legs just from their sounds, their scents, the sounds of my lips and throat working them over.

They were both groaning now, muttering praise, cursing softly.

I pulled back from Frank, panting slightly, strings of spit connecting us. My lipstick was smeared. My chest heaved. I looked up at them, licking my lips slow and deliberate.

"Fuck," Steve whispered. "You're... Jesus, Romy."

Frank only smiled, the kind of smug, primal smile of a man who knew he was being worshiped properly.

Then they both leaned in, cocks pressing against my cheeks, balls brushing my skin. I turned my head side to side, kissing the heads, licking both shafts, my hands never stopping their slow strokes. I cradled their balls in my palms, rolling them gently, feeling the tension building in each of them.

And then--because I could--I took them both into my mouth. Not fully, but just the tips, lips stretched wide, tongue flicking back and forth, teasing them both at once.

They lost it.

Groaning, swearing, praising me like a goddess.

Frank tugged gently at my hair and guided me to focus on him. I sucked him deep again, tasting the pulse of his arousal. Then Steve pulled me back, his cock sliding easily down my slicked throat. I moaned around him. My whole body was on fire.

They took turns, patient and greedy. I let them. I loved it. Their cocks, their heat, their hunger. The way they trembled every time my lips closed around them. The way their breaths caught every time my tongue traced a vein, or my nails grazed their thighs.

I was dizzy with power, flushed with pleasure, soaked with arousal. This wasn't a job. This wasn't duty.

This was devotion.

Finally, I needed air. I broke free with a gasp, falling back on my heels, lips slick, chest heaving. I stared up at them--my men--with my mouth open and glistening.

They were smiling down at me like I'd hung the stars.

Frank leaned down, hooked his hand in my hair, and pulled me to my feet. He kissed me hard--tongue and teeth and growl. Then he turned me to Steve, who kissed me slower, deeper, reverently.

I stretched out on the bed, deliberately slow, savoring the feel of cool sheets against my fevered skin. My body hummed, still tingling from the way they had kissed me, touched me, tasted me. My thighs were slick, my mouth still wet, my chest rising and falling in soft, lazy waves.

Frank and Steve stood at the foot of the bed, silent now, their cocks glistening, pulsing with need. I could feel their eyes on me--watching, waiting, aching.

I gave them a lazy smile, then spread my legs wide, heels flat on the mattress, stockings still clinging to my thighs like a second skin. My pussy was exposed--open and wet, lips flushed and glistening, practically begging for attention. But it wasn't theirs yet.

It was mine.

I slid one hand down my belly, watching their eyes track the movement like starving men. My fingers brushed over my clit, and I gasped--a soft, helpless sound that felt like surrender, but was anything but.

This was a performance. My show. And they were my audience.

My fingers moved in slow, delicious circles, stroking the swollen nub with practiced ease. I tilted my hips, giving them a better view. Their eyes darkened. I could see the tension in their jaws, the way their fists clenched. They wanted to move. To touch. To take.

But I wasn't done with them yet.

"Look at you," I murmured, voice low and wicked. "Two big, strong men... and not a single one of you making a move."

I dipped two fingers down, sliding them between my slick folds. The wet sound made Steve groan and Frank's cock twitch. I smiled wider, slipping my fingers inside with a slow, deliberate thrust, then pulling them back to circle my clit again.

"You know what I love most?" I asked, breath catching as I found just the right rhythm. "The way you both look at me. Like I'm something sacred. Something you'd crawl for."

I slid my fingers inside again, moaning this time--real, deep, full. The pleasure bloomed fast, curling hot and high in my belly. My other hand came up to cup my breast, fingers teasing my nipple as I writhed gently against the bed.

"You are," Frank muttered, voice rough. "You're... fucking divine."

Steve nodded silently, eyes locked between my thighs, lips parted as if in prayer.

Their cocks were hard as stone, bobbing slightly with each heartbeat, and still--still--they hadn't moved. Not until I let them.

I tilted my head back, back arched, lost in the pleasure of my own touch, the raw hunger in their eyes feeding the fire in my veins. I was soaked. Glowing. Alive.

And when I looked back down at them, pupils blown wide, cheeks flushed, lips slick--I knew I had them. Completely.

"Now," I purred, voice trembling with want, "I think I'm ready to be fucked."

Frank climbed onto the bed, his body stretched out like a throne waiting for its queen. His thick cock stood upright, flushed and glistening, throbbing with anticipation. He didn't have to say anything--but he did anyway.

"Steve mentioned earlier... he was hoping to fuck that sweet little ass of yours." His eyes burned into mine, daring and amused. "What do you think of that?"

I turned to Steve, who stood just behind me, his long cock bobbing slightly with each breath. His face was flushed, his eyes glazed with lust and reverence. He looked at me like I was something divine.

I slowly turned around and bent forward just a little, hands sliding to the round curves of my ass. I spread them for him, teasing him with a soft moan as I tilted my hips."You like my ass, Stevie? You want to fuck it?" My voice was soft, taunting, breathless with arousal.

He nodded--eager, hungry, almost overwhelmed. I bit back a laugh, not because it was funny, but because the power of it all--the way these two men, strong and experienced and aching--were completely under my spell.

God, I loved this.

I crawled up onto the bed and straddled Frank's hips. His cock stood tall beneath me, thick and pulsing, and my body responded instantly--my pussy slick, swollen, ready.

I reached between us, wrapped my fingers around his shaft, and guided him to my entrance. The first press was electric--his head stretching me open, slow and steady. I exhaled, eyes fluttering closed, hips sinking downward inch by inch. The fullness was exquisite. My body resisted, then yielded, taking more of him inside with every heartbeat.

"Ohh... fuck," I whispered, barely able to breathe.

I sank down until my thighs met his, his cock buried deep inside me, filling me completely. My inner walls throbbed, stretched wide around his girth, and I stayed there for a moment, motionless, relishing the mass of him inside me. My hands braced against his chest, feeling the hard thump of his heart beneath my palms.

Frank grinned up at me. "You look so goddamn beautiful like that."

And then the mattress shifted behind me--Steve climbing up, his body heat rolling over me like a second wave.

I leaned forward, laying my torso across Frank's chest, still impaled on his cock, and felt Steve's hands on my hips. His fingers traced the curve of my ass, spreading me open again. The head of his cock slid up and down my slick cleft, gathering wetness, teasing my tight entrance.

My breath hitched. My whole body was a live wire.

Then I felt it--his tip pressing firmly against my puckered hole.

The pressure made me whimper, not from pain, but from the wild anticipation. I gripped the sheets, my entire body coiled and bracing for the slow burn.

And then he pushed.

The head of his cock stretched me, inch by aching inch, and I gasped--sharp, breathless. My back arched. Frank held my thighs gently as Steve entered me, whispering something low and unintelligible against my back, his voice rough with restraint.

It burned. God, it burned. But beneath the burn was pleasure--deep, molten, raw. The thrill of being filled completely--claimed in every way a woman could be.

When Steve was finally seated inside me, hips flush against my ass, I was trembling.

They were both inside me.

So full. So stretched. So utterly consumed.

I couldn't speak. Could barely breathe.

I was pinned between them--Frank beneath me, Steve behind me--their cocks brushing against each other through the thin wall that separated my most intimate places. My body throbbed, clenching and fluttering around both men, overwhelmed with sensation.

And then... they moved.

Frank began to thrust first--slow, deep pulses up into my pussy--while Steve held still, anchoring me to him. Then Steve followed, rocking his hips in counter-rhythm, his cock sliding into my ass while Frank pulled back. The dual motion was hypnotic, relentless, dizzying.

I cried out--a raw, primal sound torn from my chest.

They filled me over and over, moving in perfect sync, my body caught between them like the eye of a storm. I was moaning, gasping, begging. And still, it wasn't enough. I needed more.

"Fuck me," I panted. "Oh God, please--fuck me."

And they did.

Their rhythm quickened, bodies slamming into me, heat building between us like fire catching wind. I couldn't tell where one ended and the other began. My pussy clutched at Frank's cock while my ass squeezed around Steve's, and the friction between them sent shockwaves through my core.

I came.

It hit me like lightning--sudden and violent and pure. My body seized, trembled, arched. I screamed, my voice echoing off the hotel room walls, fingers digging into Frank's chest, my thighs trembling as my orgasm tore through me.

They didn't stop.

They kept moving, driving into me, dragging out every aftershock until I was shaking--ruined--and still needing.

Then another climax built, fast and furious, cresting in my belly. I couldn't stop it. I didn't want to.

"Fuck! Oh God--oh fuck--I'm coming again!"

The pleasure detonated. My body went rigid. My toes curled. My throat went raw with another cry, and still they fucked me through it, their grunts and moans thick with urgency.

My body wasn't mine anymore. I was nothing but pleasure--wet, stretched, filled, and adored.

I was being worshipped. And I loved every second.

I was still coming.

It didn't feel like one orgasm anymore. It felt like all of them--stacked and layered, rising and crashing in waves that had no end. My body was soaked, trembling, locked in a constant flood of sensation. Every thrust, every twitch of cock inside me, set off another ripple. My breath came in gasps, my fingers were numb, my legs jelly. And still--they fucked me.

I wasn't in control of my body anymore... but I was still in control of them.

I felt Frank tense beneath me, his breath hot and ragged against my skin.

"I'm gonna cum," he growled, voice hoarse, broken.

I don't know how I found the strength, but somehow I rolled off of him, my body boneless and buzzing, and slid down to my knees on the floor like the priestess I was. A mess of sex, sweat, and divine power. My thighs were still quivering from the aftershocks, but my hands found their cocks like they were drawn to them--needing to finish this final ritual.

I wrapped one hand around each shaft--one thick, one long--slick with my own arousal, spit, and the heat of their lust.

They towered over me, panting like beasts, eyes locked on mine as I stroked them. Slowly at first. Then faster. Firmer. I could feel them both on the edge, twitching and ready. They were going to give it to me--everything they had.

I looked up at them, eyes glassy with need, lips parted, my chest rising and falling with effort and desire. I wasn't begging. I was claiming it. Their release wasn't just a finish--it was a sacrifice. To me.

Frank came first.

The first jet of cum hit me hard, hot across my throat, splashing over my collarbone. I gasped at the heat of it, at the sheer volume--another rope across my cheek, another strip painting my lips, dripping from my chin.

I tilted my head back and opened my mouth, greedy now, and tasted him as more spilled inside. The salty, primal flavor hit my tongue and I swallowed like it was nectar--offering, tribute, worship made flesh.

Steve wasn't far behind.

With a grunt and a gasp, he erupted--thick spurts landing across my breasts, my lips, my cheeks. One glorious pulse shot straight into my mouth. I moaned around it, my body shaking again as a final, electric burst of pleasure shot through me like lightning.

They covered me completely--my face, my chest, my pearl choker now drenched and glistening with their thick, sticky seed. I felt it drip down between my breasts, across my nipples, pooling warm on my skin. It was obscene. It was beautiful. It was mine.

I couldn't even open my eyes at first. Too much cum. Too much everything. My mouth worked slowly, tasting, savoring, swallowing what they'd given me. I reached up and wiped the mess from my lashes, blinking through the haze to see their faces.

Both of them were grinning like schoolboys who'd just broken every rule and gotten away with it.

They high-fived each other, laughing through their breathless groans.

"Jesus," Steve muttered, still panting. "That was... fuck. That was insane."

Frank flopped into the chair by the window, his cock twitching as it slowly softened. "Told you she was worth it."

I leaned forward and sucked the last dribbles from the heads of their cocks--one, then the other. Gentle. Tender. Like closing a chapter with a kiss.

Steve helped me to my feet, and I wobbled, legs unsteady, chest slick with their seed. He steadied me, smiling, dazed.

I looked down at myself--glazed in cum, flushed with heat, lips bruised from kisses, thighs trembling from pleasure.

I was wrecked.

I was radiant.

I was divine.

My legs barely held me as I staggered across the room, every muscle humming with exhaustion and pleasure. I peeled off the garter belt first, its delicate lace damp and clinging to my skin. Then the stockings--rolled down inch by inch, the sheer fabric sticking to my thighs where sweat and cum mingled in hot streaks.

I was a mess. A glorious, filthy, aching mess.

I flipped on the hot tub, and within seconds the water began to swirl, jets bubbling to life. Steam rose around me like a veil as I stepped in, sinking into the heat with a sigh that came from somewhere deep in my soul. The water wrapped around my body, its warmth kissing every bruised muscle, every tender ache, every inch of overstimulated flesh.

I closed my eyes and let my head fall back, the water sloshing gently around me.

The men watched me--silent, spent, and awed.

I could feel them behind me. Still standing. Still hard. Still mine.

Without opening my eyes, I smiled.

"Well," I murmured, voice lazy, thick with satisfaction, "aren't you two going to help clean up your mess?"

I cracked one eye open to see them exchange a look--amused, eager, reverent. Then they joined me, slipping into the tub on either side, the water rising with their weight.

Warm, strong hands moved to me almost at once. Gentle. Careful. Worshipful.

Steve sat to my left, his fingers sliding across my cheek, dipping into my hair to wash away the sticky strands clinging to my face. Frank reached across my chest from the right, his palms smoothing over my shoulders, down my arms, across my collarbone, rinsing and massaging with a devotion that made me shiver.

Their cum clung to me in streaks, now warmed and thinned by the water--but I let them touch every place it remained. I let them wipe it from my face, from the curve of my breasts, from the hollow of my throat.

Every pass of their hands felt like a gift. A promise. A goodbye.

I shifted between them slightly, arching as Frank's hands slid lower to cup my breasts. He caressed them slowly, his thumbs brushing over my nipples, still swollen and tender. I sighed and leaned against him, allowing it--inviting it. Steve's hands had moved down too, ghosting along my belly, then dipping between my legs.

My breath caught.

Even the gentlest touch made me twitch. My pussy was raw, sensitive, stretched. My ass throbbed in echo. But when Steve's fingers swept through my folds, barely a whisper of a touch, I moaned softly--not in pain, but in recognition.

He was reverent. Patient. Cleaning me with nothing but devotion in every pass.

Frank's hand slid along the back of my thigh and up to my ass, his touch feather-light. He washed the tender cleft with care, rinsing me, caressing me, honoring the body they had both so thoroughly ravaged.

Their cocks were hard again beneath the water. I felt them, pulsing faintly, brushing my thighs, but they didn't press. Didn't beg.

They just held me.

I leaned into them both, one hand resting on each of their thighs beneath the water, not stroking--just holding on, grounding myself in the heat of their presence.

"I should hate how wrecked I feel," I whispered. "But I don't. I feel... divine."

"You are," Frank murmured against my neck.

Steve kissed my shoulder. "We should be thanking you."

"You already did," I smirked, eyes still closed. "All over me."

We stayed that way for another long moment--soaked, soothed, wrapped in a cocoon of steam and sex and slow, quiet affection.

Even goddesses deserve to rest.

Eventually, the heat of the tub faded, and the water settled into stillness. I stretched, languid and sated, before climbing out with a soft groan. My body was thoroughly used--thighs sore, breasts tender, my pussy still tingling--but I felt glorious. Triumphant.

Divine.

I stood for a moment, water dripping from my curves, completely unbothered by the two very naked, very hard men who watched my every move.

I bent to retrieve my discarded skirt, shimmying it up my hips with practiced grace, letting them watch the fabric slide over my still-damp skin. I didn't bother looking at them--but I could feel their eyes glued to every inch.

Next came the blazer. I slipped it on, buttoned it--bare beneath it still--and gave my hips a shake. The stockings and garter belt were far too ruined to bother with.

I plucked them from the floor and, with a casual flick, tossed them at Frank's chest.

"Souvenirs," I said with a smirk. "Hang them somewhere special."

Frank caught them with a chuckle. "I'll frame them."

Steve climbed out of the tub next, dripping and dazed, running a hand through his wet hair like he was trying to reset his brain. His cock was still half-hard, swaying as he stepped toward his clothes. He looked at me like he wanted to speak--but couldn't quite find the words.

Then he sighed. "Fuck... my wife can never find out about this. Seriously. If Kim knew I just fucked your wife, Frank... she'd kill both of us."

I laughed as I smoothed down my skirt. "Oh, Steve..."

He paused. Hopeful. Nervous.

"... I'm going shopping with Kim tomorrow."

His face blanched. His cock gave up entirely.

"Romy," he said in a strangled whisper, "you can't tell her."

I blew him a kiss. "Relax. Girls have secrets too."

Behind me, Frank laughed--full, relaxed, amused. He stepped up and wrapped his arms around me from behind, pressing his bare body to my back, the soft thud of his cock resting against my ass.

His hands slipped around to fondle my breasts through the blazer, fingers teasing my nipples like they hadn't had nearly enough attention yet.

"Thanks, baby," he murmured against my ear. "I was hoping you'd be up for this."

I turned toward the door, my heels clicking softly on the tile. My legs still trembled slightly, but I walked like a queen--head high, lips painted, jacket clinging to damp skin, the scent of sex still clinging to me like perfume.

"See you tomorrow, Stevie," I called over my shoulder. "Kim loves shopping."

And then I left, smiling to myself as I disappeared down the hallway, still drunk on power, pleasure... and the promise of a very amusing morning.