CHAPTER 5

LACY

Someone places my jacket over my body before they take turns showering in the connected bathroom —yes. I don’t want my clients smelling like sex as they leave.

When I get myself and come out of my sex daze, I put on the jacket and move to the couch, sitting with my legs crossed. My pussy is still clenching, whining at the loss of their cocks and sore from the same.

After what feels like forever, someone walks to me. I look up to see Leon.

“How do you know my name?” I ask softly.

Two fingers come under my chin, tilting my face up as he leans down and kisses me softly. I’m so tired, so I just let him take. I sigh into his warm mouth, and the kiss seems to go on forever.

When we break the kiss, he ties my mask back on to my face. I’m too flustered to thank him. Closer to the door, Green leans against the wall, making even the door look so fucking small. Kale is beside him, in his arms, sighing softly as Green plays with his hair.

When Kale meets my eyes there’s a vulnerability in his. Almost as if he’s...scared of something. Maybe he’s scared of me. Or of himself. Of his wants.

Either way, I recognise Leon’s kiss as a distraction and frown up at him. His lips curve.

“There’s no information I cannot get in this country. If I want it hard enough, I’m ready to work hard enough.” Now that I'm out of my daze, I recognise the hint of a British accent over his words.

I scoff. “Big talk for something as irrelevant as my name.”

This time, he actually smiles fully, highlighting dimples I didn’t know he had. My heart skips a beat. Fucking traitor. I’m better than this shit. This gooey, butterfly-ey shit.

I don’t know what spell these men cast on me, but that’s enough voodoo for tonight.

I jerk my face from his hand.

“You all should leave now. The scene is over.” My ice-cold tone is back now, and relief fills me at that. They’ve seen too many sides of me.

“Lacy,” Green drawls from where he stands, hand still in Kale’s hair. Kale is glaring at me now. But his eyes are so sweet, I could mistake it for awe. “Sweet name for a not-so-sweet girl.”

“Woman. I’m a fucking woman.”

He nods, as if considering and agreeing with the notion. When he steps away from the wall, his muscles bulge under his shirt. They’re all wearing the same t-shirt with a horse on the left but in different colours. His hugs him like a second skin.

“You didn’t mind it when I called you Good girl earlier.”

I flush. I hate that I flush. “Well... I didn’t want to burst your bubble." I breathe, his gaze crawling over my skin. "You should leave.”

“Goodbye, Lacy,” Leon drawls. When they open the door, I shift.

“Wait. Green. You didn’t tell me your name.”

His eyes twinkle as he turns. “I’ll tell you next time we meet.”

I'm too busy blushing that I forget to tell him we’ll never meet again.

...

It’s been a week since those three men ruined my life and most importantly, my pussy.

The next day, I was still too sore to take another cock so I had to take a good lashing to please my client. Martins Kilman. Republican. Senator representing Alabama. He came across my swollen behind.

I held quite a grudge on him. It took a large jar of ointment to heal from that one.

The day after, Julian Welchester. Son of Billionaire British Mogul Dave Welchester flew all the way from London to Storey County for me. I had to give him my pussy, of course. Not that he made me cum. One of those guys who has no idea how to use their big cocks the right way. It hurt to a point that I pulled away and settled for using my mouth instead.

I can be a masochist sometimes, but not when it comes to my precious vagina.

The day after that, I declined any client. There was an issue in the house I needed to resolve.

The day after that, Scott Preston. Son of the Vice President of the United States fucked me so hard I came once. Once.

Disappointing.

The other days were pretty similar, then yesterday, I tried it again. I got myself 3 clients. But it ended up getting so overwhelming I pressed the button. They wanted a piece of me at the same time, even growling when I as much as tried to get some air.

So now I’m sitting in my office, sexually and mentally frustrated because I haven’t gotten it good and I can’t stop comparing everyone I meet to them. Leon, Green, and even jealous little Kale.

My office door bursts open, and my hand immediately shoots to pick my mask. But then my secretary walks in, and I sigh. She locks the door behind her and then groans.

“What is it?” I ask. Grace and I have known each other since she was 18, and I was 17 in my first workplace. She was miserable in that lifestyle, not happy like me, no.

So when I got out, I took her with me.

She worked as a receptionist for two years before reaching out to me, saying that she missed the lifestyle. So I gave her the offer to be my secretary.

We found out later on that the reason she was so unhappy was because she wasn’t into men. No. Grace Jones was a full-on Lesbian.

“You need to help me.”

“What is it?” I ask, but I already know it. From the second she locked the door, I knew it.

She removes her panties and rolls up the pencil skirt she insists on wearing every day before removing her shoes and coming to me.

I move back as she shifts my laptop to the side before sitting on the table right in front of me. I don’t consider myself to be attracted to women in this sense. But it’s never been a problem for me to give her relief.

It doesn’t turn me on, but she does so much for me, I’m completely fine with it.

So I excuse myself to the toilet, wash my hands, and return to see her touching herself. She’s moaning so loudly. “Sorry. I’m so worked up. These clients have been pissing me off so much, and then this sexy as sin woman called to book a date with you.”

I raise a brow. “How do you know she’s sexy as sin?” I flick her fingers away and caress her dripping folds. She’s so wet already. She groans.

“Because she said, "Hello, this is Elaine Manchester, and I’d like to book a session with Madame X.""

I laugh. “Shit. She said her full name?” I push one finger into her. The warmth that sucks me in makes me sigh.

“Fuuuuuck. Yes, so I googled her, and she’s the last daughter of the owner of these Manc sport cars everyone’s raving about these days.”

“Damn. That’s filthy rich.”

“I know. And fucking sexy. Gosh, she’s a goddess, Lacy,” she whimpers when I add a second finger, pumping her greedy pussy.

Curiosity gets the best of me and I lean down to give her a long lick. She thrashes. “Fuck shit. How are you so good at this?” she breathes. I’m not doing much, but I don’t point that out.

I know my best friend has a little crush on me. Of course, anything I do will feel good.

“I kept looking at her pictures one by one, and I started dripping, fuuuuck. I’m such a whore,” she laughs.

I finger her harder and faster until the sounds of her wet pussy squelching around my fingers fills the room.

My laptop pings with a notification, and I let my eyes cross over. I keep fucking her even as my eyes widen. My other hand clicks into the email and I read through.

Hello, Madame X.

We understand that you normally do not repeat clients. But I’m certain I speak for everyone when I say that was a night that would never be forgotten. Crudely speaking, my men and I fuck to the memory of your taste, your screams, your whimpers and that juicy stream that busted out from your pretty pink pussy.

We would like to request a repeat session. For 9 pm tomorrow. Special Request from Leon. And I type this exactly as he said it; “Please let me fuck her tight pussy bare until she’s dripping with my cum. Please let me breed her.”

Yours faithfully,

Leon&Green.

Grace groans as she cums hard around my fingers.