Give Me More (Salacious Players’ Club)

Drake

I’m a fucking scoundrel. I guess that’s an old-fashioned term, but I don’t really like the modern-day translation as much. Playboy. Man whore. Fuck boy.

I get around. I don’t do relationships, and I can’t stand the idea of commitment. The only people I’ve been with for any amount of time, I cheated on—multiple times. The first one being my high school girlfriend, whose name I can’t even remember, and I didn’t just cheat on her, I cheated on her with her best friend…only hours after taking her virginity.

I told you, scoundrel.

I’m not proud of it. I don’t think it makes me a good guy and I’m not the kind of douchebag to flaunt it, but that’s just who I am. I like to fuck, and while I respect every single person I’m with, it’s not really a priority to me to learn shit about them. We can have a good time together and part ways, and no one gets hurt.

So it comes as a shock to no one that when my best friend offered me a job as head of renovations at his new sex club, I said, sign me the fuck up. I paved the bricks of my own paradise. Finally in the prime of my life, I should be set to live out my days exactly like this. At Salacious, I don’t have to worry about sex partners who want tomorrows and forevers. I get to fuck as much as I want. Be as kinky as I want. With whoever I want—girls or guys.

Which leads me here. With one beautiful set of lips around my cock while another petite brunette rides my face. She’s howling like she’s been possessed by the devil as her clit grinds against my tongue. I’m about two seconds away from yanking my cock out of her friend’s mouth and shoving it down her throat, just to shut her up.

I was going to let her come first, but she’s getting out of hand, so I toss her off of me and pull her friend’s lips off my cock to replace one mouth with the other. This isn’t their first rodeo…that much is obvious.

Sometimes when it’s their first threesome, you can tell by the way they stumble through the transitions, not quite knowing where to go when we change positions or where their parts belong, but these girls are seasoned. I can tell when the quiet one starts going to town on the other girl like she’s in a pie-eating contest.

How exactly did I get here?

Well, technically, I got to this Phoenix rental house with Hunter and Isabel yesterday afternoon.

But more specifically, I landed here in pussy heaven after my aforementioned best friends decided to ditch me to celebrate their anniversary with a night on the town, leaving me to hunt down some mattress ornaments at the local nightclub. Obviously, it worked like a charm.

I mean…it’s not like I wanted to celebrate their anniversary with them. Not even their wedding anniversary, but their ten-year dating anniversary. Who even celebrates those after getting married?

I don’t know why I sound bitter because I’m definitely not. I mean…I’m about to shoot my load down a twenty-two-year-old’s throat. Why would I complain?

Being the third wheel with those two is getting old anyway. I’ve been the third wheel for the entire decade of their relationship. Fuck, I was there the day they met too. I remember the look on my best friend’s lovestruck face when he locked eyes with the demure four-eyed redhead carrying her books across the street.

I was there for everything after too. Hunter cleaning up his act. Getting a job for her. Climbing his way up the corporate ladder for her. Making himself the owner of a club for her.

Maybe if I had been the kind of guy to settle down with a beautiful girl of my own, I would have flown a little farther from their nest, but since I’m not, they practically treat me like their thirty-four-year-old love child, keeping me around for their holidays and birthdays, and as you can see, vacations.

It’s not like I insert myself in their lives, but they are the only family I have. They’re all I have.

And on that thought—not exactly sure why—I come, shooting straight down the loud girl’s throat, and she swallows it down like a good little girl. I’m not sure either of them has come yet, so after my dick is spent, I collapse onto the mattress and let them finish each other.

In my post-orgasm state, I’m drifting off as I hear the front door open in the distance. There’s some low chatter and movement across the small house until I hear their door close down the hall.

Something heavy weighs on my chest at the thought.

“You’re not done yet, are you?” the quiet girl asks.

“Give me a minute, darlin’.” Heaving a sigh, I relax flat on my back as the one with the nose ring—I think her name starts with a K—starts kissing her way up my body. She’s already stroking my cock, trying to bring it back to life. Kristy, Kelsey, Kyla?

Seriously, woman. It’s been like five minutes. Ever heard of a refractory period?

Then, there’s a high-pitched moan in the distance, and I tense up. There’s only some drywall between my room and theirs, and it’s abundantly clear just how thin it is when I hear Isabel cry out again.

“Here he comes,” the girl says as my dick thickens under her eager tugs. The other girl is in her own post-orgasm recovery next to us.

“Sounds like a party next door,” the sleepy one replies as the bed starts thumping against the wall in a slow, rough cadence.

“Maybe we should ask to join them. Make this one big party,” the girl on my cock adds.

“You talk too much.” I flip her over and grab a rubber off the nightstand. Sheathing my already hard cock, I listen to the sound of my best friends fucking as I slam into the girl on her knees in front of me. She lets out a husky cry, so I grab her by the hair, pulling her up so her ear is next to my mouth as I mutter, “Louder.”

And she does, but it’s not enough to drown out the sounds of the woman in the next room. The one I should not be hearing, thinking about, or getting off to.