Three years ago . . .
Trevor suckled her pink buds, teasing her, making her writhe until she panted. Mistress B was rolling around with Bruce, her arch nemesis who she can’t seem to get out of her head. They pulled each other’s hair as they cursed each other to hell and back.
“What?” Christopher said an octave above his usual tone with amusement.
Mistress B wasn’t going to take his shit any longer. She grabbed the half empty champagne bottle from the table and whacked it over Bruce’s head.
Christopher laughed boisterously. “I know how she feels. I wish I can do that.”
Bruce grabbed his head. The mistress took advantage by shoving him in the floor. Then she quickly pulled his sweats down to his knees and grabbed the dildo from the row of sex toys on the long table. Mistress B rammed half of the ten inch purple wand in his rectum.
“Holy fucking shit,” Christopher shouted with astonishment. Then, he laughed at the scene. “The last thing Bruce needs is anything else up his ass, but to each his own.”
Bruce yelled out.
“You like it, don’t you?” Mistress B asked sternly as she moved the dildo in and out of him. “Admit it!”
He kept quiet, but he wasn’t fighting it.
“Admit it or I’ll stop, asshole!”
“Bitch,” Bruce sneered.
“Shit,” Christopher chuckled as tears weld in his eyes. He reached over to the phone and pressed the button.
After a few moments, William, the butler came over the intercom. “Yes, sir?”
“William,” Christopher said as he suppressed his laughter. “Ask my brothers to meet me in the study. Tell them I have come across some files that might be of interest to them.”
“Yes, sir.”
Christopher let his laughter go as he leaned back in the chair. It took a few minutes for his younger brothers to join him in the study.
“What is it, Christopher?” Bruce asked as they approached the desk.
“Selena, accidently left me her . . . personal flash drive instead of the one I had asked for.” Christopher informed them smugly. “There are . . . stories on it . . . about us.”
“Oh, yeah?” Trevor inquired. “What kind of stories?” He rounded the desk and stood next to Christopher. Trevor’s curly brown hair was neatly styled.
“I’ll let you two be the judge of that.” Christopher re-read the passage he had just read to them out loud.
When Christopher was finished, he and Trevor laughed their heads off from behind the desk as Bruce stood next to them with a sour expression.
“This isn’t the only story either,” Christopher said between chuckles.
“That one is more than enough,” Bruce stated sternly.
“Oh, come on,” Trevor said with a grin. “Where’s your sense of humor?”
“Here’s one you might like, Bruce,” Christopher began. “The Brut and the Bitch.”
“Oh, good grief!” Bruce exclaimed with disgust and walked to the bar.
“Ah, here’s a good paragraph,” Christopher said with a smirk. “Bruce smacked the mistress’s ass as he pressed his erection against her thigh. She reached up and grabbed the front of his brown hair –”
“Stop it!” Bruce snapped. He dropped ice into a glass.
Christopher and Trevor laughed.
“All right, play the audio that says, Story Time with Mistress B,” Trevor said as he leaned over the laptop.
Christopher clicked on the audio file and turned up the speakers.
“I sashayed into my bedroom after my shower. I pulled the black satin sheets down on the bed,” the sultry voice began. “Then my brown hair got grabbed from behind. Bruce, the bastard, pulled my head back and nicked my cheek. I could feel he was naked. Before I could protest, he shoved me face first onto the bed.”
“There isn’t anything on there about your two?” Bruce snarled over the sultry woman.
Christopher cut the audio. He’d listen to the rest of it later. “Absolutely. Most of the files appear to be about me. I got a chance to skim a few of them before you two came in.”
“Did you recognize the voice, Bruce?” Trevor asked amusement.
“No,” he spat out as he walked around the bar. The ice clinked against the glass of clear liquid.
“Are you sure? I mean you are a bastard. How would Mistress B know that if you’ve never met her?” Trevor asked with a grin as he stood up straight.
Christopher chuckled.
“Go to hell, Trevor,” Bruce sneered and stopped at the side of the desk.
The present . . . Beverly Balsom had called her friend and the building’s maintenance man, Chuck, to look at her kitchen sink faucet. When Chuck started taking the long handle faucet apart, water spurted in his face and on his white tank top. “Argh!” he yelled and dipped down in the floor. He whipped the cabinet door open. Beverly watched him with a smirk on her face as he turned off the water. “I thought you said you turned off the water!” He stood up with a frown. “I thought I
Sunday Mass was enjoyable at St. Joseph’s as usual. In truth, Selena was the only confirmed Catholic among them. When she had joined the family, she had wanted to attend Christmas mass. In an attempt to make her feel welcomed and give her the feeling of having a real family, they had gone with her. It had turned into a weekly family event. They rode in the back of the limo as little Chris Jr. looked around at them in his car seat. His brother’s only son was over a year old now. He was the spitting image of Christopher - hair and all. Hudson men has had brown hair for at least a hundred years. Different varieties of brown, yes, but brown nonetheless. They pulled up to the Van Dyke mansion. Just like the Hudsons, the Van Dykes were blue bloods – from an ol
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Beverly had gone to the bathroom. There was no one around – not even William. She took the liberty to look around. She had only been to the Hudson Estate a few times and most of those times she had been confined to the ballroom. She quietly and carefully walked down the hall. She found the den, but she didn’t linger there. It didn’t look very interesting. Beverly walked to a room she knew. The study. She had been in there twice. The first time was a few months ago when Trevor and Joanna had given her an exclusive interview on their nuptials. Beverly hadn’t had a chance to really look around. That room looked like it held some secrets. The second time had been when Beverly and Selena broke into it three years ago to retrieve the flash drive that held their fantasy erotic fiction about the Hudson brothers. They had been ca
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Beverly had just finished giving her statement to the cop in uniform. Her black tights were ruined, but it kept her legs and knees from getting scraped up. Half her palm was red from where she had caught herself falling all the way on the ground when that jerk mugger slung her to the ground. All in all she was fine – physically. Bruce was talking to a sergeant in uniform. Beverly began walking up the sidewalk to them. As she was, two EMTs wheeled the mugger on a gurney pass Bruce and the cop. “God damn,” the sergeant eased out. “You said you roughed him up a little.” The mugger’s eyes were crossed. Cotton was up his nose and his upper lip looked
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