Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
WEDNESDAY
I’ve always been a loner, and one of my regrets in life is not indulging in the reckless, freestyle fun of university students trashed on wine. Indulging in fun and flirting, and drunken games.
I would like you to indulge me, and help me gain a taste of what it would have been like.
Truth or dare, spin the bottle, strip poker, and would-you-rather games. Dirty, and fun. Who will win some of those, Joshua? I hope you are still in competition mode.
Be my college buddies tonight, sweet curvas. Reveal your secrets, and share in mine.
Let’s crack open the wine and have some fun.
Proposal duration – 4 hours-ish!
Reward – a wine tasting experience at one of the region’s finest vineyards
I read the proposal through for a second time, grinning in disbelief, because it wasn’t what I was expecting at all. I was expecting some hardcore BDSM, or a game of who can take it? Not flirty, dirty games as we glug on wine.
An evening of college fun sounds amazing, and nothing I ever actually got the chance to indulge in either. I didn’t go to university. I was always too busy supporting Connor’s music dreams to plan out a career for myself. I was certain he’d make it – and yes, despite being an absolute asshole, he did make it. I was sure as fuck I’d be by his side when he did hit the limelight – but no, I wasn’t.
Too bad.
When I was holed up in my shitty bedsit, crying over my loss with barely twenty quid in my bank account, it felt as though my whole life was in ashes.
Oh, how I was wrong.
Funny how life works in mysterious ways.
I sure as fuck never thought I’d be here, with the true love of my life and Heath Mason, my onscreen idol, playing college games .
“Do you like the sound of that proposal?” Heath asks me. “Not quite up to the hardcorer level you’re used to, I imagine.”
“I love the sound of the proposal,” I tell him, and opt for honesty before we’ve even started on truth or dare. “I don’t really have the university scenario to draw on, but I’ll do my best. It was always me and my ex hanging out together, and sure, I got trashed a few times and had some filthy fun in threesomes and foursomes and stuff, but I never got the chance for this kind of thing.” I look at Josh, picturing him and his best friend Tiffany together, and the raucous laughter through the party games they must have shared over the years.
I want a taste of that, too…
With Heath, as well as my boyfriend.
“How about you, Josh?” Heath asks him. “Does the proposal tickle your fancy?”
“I’m definitely still in competition mode, so hell yeah, it tickles my fancy. I’m going to kick your ass at whatever games we play, Heathy baby, don’t worry about that.”
“We’ll see.”
“Yes, we will.”
I want to start with the truth or dares from the off, but the guys insist it’s time for dinner first. Wine will knock us out too early on an empty stomach, Heath assures me.
Josh is chef this evening and starts up making one of his mum’s hearty recipes. A delicious cottage pie with roasted veg. I love having it at her place, and I love Josh’s version, too.
“Smells incredible,” Heath says, but Josh holds up a hand when our client attempts to check it out in the kitchen area.
“Keep your nosey arse out of here, please. I want you to savour the full surprise when it hits your plate.”
“I’m going to be using my nosey arse all night, Josh. Better get used to it. And plenty of full surprises will be heading your way, as well as mine . ”
I have a feeling there will indeed be plenty of surprises this evening. Something feels… strange.
Human.
Fuck it, I can’t help starting up with the questions. Truth or dare, and client confidentiality and all that stuff can get fucked for once.
“Do you ever have people cook for you? Chefs on call, that kind of thing?” I ask Heath as he takes a seat beside me at the breakfast bar.
“Not for years, besides the occasional takeaway delivery. I’m quite the lone wolf. Luckily, I’m a good enough chef to serve myself.”
“You’re a great chef. Your cooking rocks.”
Heath gives me such a beautiful smile. “It’s nice to be able to share my talents with other people’s plates.”
My blabbermouth opens before my brain kicks in.
“Maybe our proposals could be longer when we are back in London together? We could have proposal days as well as nights. Hang out like we do here…”
Heath nods, but looks towards the setting sun through the window, not at me. He seems, reserved? Distracted? I dunno.
“I’d like that,” he says. “I’d like that a lot.”
So would I. And Josh would. I know it.
I get a pang for Heath, which is bizarre given that he’s not the kind of man I’d ever figured I’d get a pang of sympathy for. He shouldn’t need to pay for any kind of company whatsoever. People would be flocking around him, all day and all night long, if he wanted them there.
“I was always a bit of a lone wolf, it’s not a recent development,” Heath tells me. “Apart from when the high of the spotlight first hit. I was one of the goth kids in the shadows at school. A weirdo on the outskirts.”
“Me, too. Until I met Connor.”
“Connor? Your ex, right?”
“Yes, my ex.”
I don’t want to tell Heath how Connor finally shot to fame with a viral song about a hooker girlfriend who broke his heart. I can’t stand the bloody song. That bullshit was still all over social media when we flew out here. One good thing about not having my phone is not seeing posts about that shitty song everywhere I look.
“How long were you together?” Heath asks.
“Too long. Way, way, way too long. He’s a real piece of shit.”
Heath grins. “Most people say that about their exes, I find.”
Josh heads to the fridge and takes out a bottle of wine. He presents it to us along with three glasses, a towel over his shoulder as he maintains his chef role.
“My ex tore my heart to shreds and then laughed about it,” he says. “She was a jackass with a decent ass. Not as good as Ella’s though.”
“Magpie, yes?” Heath says.
“Yeah. I’m actually pleased she fucked me over. If she hadn’t, I wouldn’t have met Ella.”
I grin as he pours our wine.
“Same,” I tell him. “I’m glad Connor fucked me over, too. Or I wouldn’t have met you.” I take my glass and hold it up to Heath. “Or you.”
Heath raises his glass back at me. “I’m glad to be included in that statement. I’m sure plenty of your other clients would feel the same. We should send him a thank you card. He gave us a treasure.”
The walls between client and lover are crumbling by the day, I can feel it, and I can see it in Heath’s eyes. Not just in the way he looks at Josh, either. It’s spreading further than that. Blossoming like a rose in bloom between me and him as well. That goes both ways. My walls are crumbling, too. Heath is becoming far more to me than Heath Mason the superstar could ever be…
My thoughts are interrupted by Josh presenting the prized cottage pie on the worktop – a steaming tray of perfection. The potatoes have browned around the edges of the dish just right.
“This is really something,” Heath says, and his stare lingers on Josh.
Josh meets his eyes with one of the meaningful looks of his that make me tingle. He raises his wine glass.
“Yes, it is. Cheers.”
We all give a cheers and begin our evening as Josh serves up our dinner. The questions turn back into regular conversation as we all eat together at the dining table, the guys recounting the intensity of their squash matches earlier. They laugh, they talk tactics. They talk like lovers. And I listen. I love listening to both of their voices as I munch on cottage pie and roasted veg.
And all the while, the wine flows.
I love the headiness as one bottle follows the other. I adore the way the sun begins to set through the window, so stunningly.
I’m the one who clears the dinner plates away, waving off the guys’ offer of help so they can carry on talking squash tactics. I watch them as I load the dishwasher, trying to imagine this being London instead of here, and Heath being at our place, instead of his. How amazing it would be.
“Where are we having our games night?” I ask when I return, and Heath points towards the living room.
“Head on through and make yourselves comfy. I’ll stock us up on wine. We’ll be needing it.”
Josh and I saunter towards the lounge with our glasses in our hands. I find I’m looking up at him, examining his expression.
“What?” he asks with a smirk.
“You have a real thing for him, don’t you? Like a real real thing.”
Josh pulls me in and kisses my cheek.
“That’s a truth or dare question, I’d say. Quit it. The proposal hasn’t started yet.”
“What if he asks? In truth or dare, I mean. What if Heath asks what your feelings are towards him?”
We reach the living room and Josh moves the coffee table so it’s closer to the corner sofa. Easy access for all three of us.
“I’m not sure what I’ll say,” he replies. “What is there to say? He’s a great client. I love our time together.”
“That’s not the truth and you know it.”
Josh takes a seat, and pats the cushion beside him.
“Guess I’d better keep taking dares, then. And it is the truth. He is a great client and I do love our time together.”
Do you love HIM ?
Part of me wants to ask him that question myself, truth or dare be damned. I’ve had my suspicions, but it’s becoming so obvious now – emotions simmering as the days move on. And it’s boiling fast.
How the fuck are we going to be feeling by the time we have to take a flight home?
That’s a question I don’t want to be thinking about.
Heath has four bottles of wine with him when he joins us. I’m in the corner seat, and he flops down on my right side once he’s put the bottles on the table. His eyes are mischievous and alive, as though this really is a party game night. And it needs to be. It’s his proposal after all.
“We’ve got too many bottles to go before a spin the bottle just yet,” he laughs. “So, what do we do first? Any suggestions?”
“ Would you rather? ” I say. “I love that game.”
“Sounds good. Rock, paper, scissors for who goes first?”
Josh wins, as bloody usual. He whacks my scissor fingers with his fist.
He takes a swig of wine while he ponders his question, as though he’s contemplating life itself.
“Heath… would you rather take it up the ass in public, or never be an actor again?”
Ouch. That’s a deep one. I raise my eyebrows at him.
“What?” Josh asks. “This is an authentic games night, right? Let’s hit it right from the off.”
I look at Heath, who leans back against the sofa cushions, his fingers knitted together across his chest.
“What do you mean when you say public, exactly?”
“I mean, you get caught by the paparazzi, being fucked in the ass by a hot stud in a back alley.”
Heath winces. “I wouldn’t particularly want videos of my ass being savaged popping up all over the internet. Hot stud or not.”
“Exactly, genius.” Josh laughs. “That’s the fucking point. Would you rather that than give up your career? What’s it gonna be? Career success or taking a viral slammer online?”
“I love my career,” Heath says. “It’s extremely important to me.”
“I know.”
“But so is staying private.”
“Yes, I know.” Josh fake sighs. “Jesus, Heath, good job you didn’t get to play this college buddy shit for real, or you’d still be there now. It’s supposed to be quickfire.”
Heath holds up his hands.
“Fine. Career. I’d give up my career.”
Josh widens his eyes. “Whoa. Ok.”
Heath narrows his. “Are you really that surprised?”
The tension has already ramped – my gaze flicking between the pair of them with their locked stares.
“It’s alright to take it up the ass, Heath. It’s no crime.”
“I know that, Josh. This isn’t a counselling session. I just wouldn’t want my ass cheeks spread all over social media, thanks.”
“Social media would,” I laugh, trying to interject. “People would go crazy for it.”
“I’m plenty in the spotlight as it is,” he tells me. “I don’t want people fawning over my ravaged asshole. They fawn over my ass plenty enough.”
“Fine,” Josh says. “Career it is. Your go.”
Heath looks between the two of us.
“Ella… would you rather find Josh in bed with your ex, or in bed with your mum?”
My eyes open wide in horror, even at the thought.
“Jesus, Heath! My ex, definitely. It would at least be vaguely hot. I just hope Connor’s ass would get torn to utter shit by the barbells.”
“And would you forgive him for it?”
I shake my head. “Forgive Josh? No! No way in hell. Connor is a smarmy tosser and can talk a good game, but any kind of betrayal like that would have me out of the door. For good.”
“Good job I won’t be fucking your ex then, isn’t it?” Josh squeezes my knee. “He’s not my type anyway.”
“You’ve seen him?” Heath asks.
“I’ve had the unfortunate experience of meeting him. Multiple times. Ella wasn’t lying when she said he’s a jackass. I wouldn’t go within a mile of his ass with a bargepole.”
My turn for the would you rather question.
I go for Josh, and fuck it. I swig back a whole glass of wine before I let rip. Let’s get this party fucking started.
“Would you rather give up your entire client base, or… give up Heath?”
Fuck, I regret the question as soon as I’ve said it. Josh gives me fucking evils, in disbelief as he stares at me.
That touched deep.
He switches his demeanour in seconds, playing it casual, but I know how hard I’ve jabbed.
“Depends on how much he was paying.” Josh laughs as he looks at Heath. “Would you outbid the rest of my client base if it came to it, Heathy baby?”
Heath doesn’t laugh.
“Yes.”
Josh carries on with the tomfoolery regardless.
“They pay me pretty well.”
“I don’t give a fuck. I’d pay you better.”
“In that case, I’d take you over them regardless. Pay rise!” Josh rubs his hands together.
I could thump him in the ribs for evading the question like that, because that’s not what I was asking, and he knows it. He knows what I wanted to hear – even if curiosity does kill the cat.
Josh’s turn next. I see the dark humour in his eyes as they land on mine.
“Tit for tat. Ella, would you rather give up your entire client base, or give up Heath?”
Shit.
It’s not as easy a question as I figured it would be.
Instinct has my mind whirring through all of the clients I’ve formed dirty bonds with since taking up my position at the Agency. From Daddy to the masked CNC freak who chases me through cowsheds, to the utterly crazy savagery of the Agency founders and the blissful subspace that comes from their insane rounds of sadism…
Mr Monthly and our messy fun whenever I’m on my period. My roleplay clients… the incredible humiliation scenes where I get to be a trashy piece of meat for hours on end and love it.
The thought of giving up all of that gives me a thump in the guts far harder than the thump in the ribs I wanted to give Josh. And I get it. From the intensity in his eyes, I get it.
He felt the same way… it’s not an easy call.
So, I use the same fucking copout he did.
I turn to Heath with a beaming smile.
“Would you outbid the rest of my clients if it came to it, Heathy baby ? Or is that privilege reserved for Josh?”
“Of course I would,” Heath answers.
“In that case, the answer is obvious. It’s a yes from me.”
Heath puts a hand on his heart. There is a steely depth to his stare, despite the fact he’s smiling.
“Well, I am flattered. If I gave you a pay rise, you’d opt for my company over any other’s. What a beautiful thing to hear. Such adoration.”
He laughs, but he’s not being genuine. He’s as fake as we are.
Alarm bells go off in my head, because as proposals go, we’re failing bad at this one. This isn’t college humour and games, this is… personal.
“You should be flattered,” Josh says. “I have some incredible clients I’d have to give up.”
“Ditto,” I say, but Heath brushes it aside.
“I’m sure you do, and good job this is a would you rather rather than a will you have to . I’m happy to share.”
Is he, though? Really?
“Strip poker time!” I say. “Come on, I want to see you two with your cocks out. I’m too horny for much more would you rather .”
The guys buy into it, and Heath takes out a poker set from a drawer underneath the coffee table. I breathe a sigh of relief as he sets us up, and I paste on a smile – happy to be back in the familiar turf of performing and nudity.
The guys give an excellent strip show, one piece of clothing at a time, and they may have been competing at squash and kicking ass all day, but I definitely top the leaderboard on this one.
I make it filthy. Really fucking filthy. Splaying my pussy to show off the treasure when the game has me taking my panties off. The last item to play for…
“I’m going to make such a mess of your sofa,” I say to Heath. “I’m so fucking wet.”
“Good,” he replies, and tops up my wine glass. Again. “So, how about truth or dare?”
He rises to straddle me and rubs his swollen shaft against my slit.
“How could I resist? Go for it,” I say. “Truth.”
“Tell me then, Holly. What does your favourite client make you do for them? Excluding me, of course.”
I know the answer in a heartbeat. My eyes are on Heath’s as I answer.
“A client known as Daddy . He makes me call him Daddy while I pretend to be his naughty little girl all through the night.”
Heath keeps rubbing his cock against my slit.
“Tell me more.”
It feels so dirty to tell Heath how I perform for my client. How I’m the daughter he catches fucking her boyfriend, and how badly he punishes me for it. How he tells me that Daddy is the only one allowed to do those things to me, and how he washes me clean after I’ve been soiled . How he makes me feel like a naughty little bitch when I’m over his knee and taking a spanking.
And how wonderfully wrong it feels when he dumps me in a bathtub and puts the shower on cold, while he ‘cleans’ my fake boyfriend’s dirty cum out of me…
“He fucks you with a flannel?” Heath says, and I nod.
“Yeah. Drenched in ice cold water and wrapped over his fingers. And he makes me gargle warm water straight from the shower hose… to get the taste of cock out of my mouth. He’s so good with the name calling as well. His roleplay skills are off the chart.” I pause. “I get so much morning after syndrome from him… honestly. I begin to believe I’m that dirty little college girl for real.”
“Morning after syndrome?”
“It’s a term we use at the Agency,” Josh explains, with his hard cock in his hand. “It’s when the fantasy bleeds over into real life. Becomes kind of emotional. It’s fleeting. Usually.”
“How about me?” Heath asks. “Do I ever give you morning after syndrome ?”
I nod. “Every. Single. Time.”
Josh grabs one of my tits, squeezing hard. “You’ve given him a truth for free. He owes us one now.”
Heath’s cock is so close to my pussy. I want him inside me so fucking bad.
“Truth or dare,” my boyfriend says to Heath.
“Truth,” Heath replies, still working his swollen cock head against my clit.
“Would you want to give her morning after syndrome? What is it, Heath? Do you sink back into the shadows when Ella leaves, without a second thought about her… or do you want it to hurt her to leave you?”
This is such a fucked up twist.
Call it a whole load of wine, and drunken mouths and swollen cocks, but Josh has a different edge to his voice now. Digging.
“That’s not a fair question,” Heath replies. “I’ll switch to dare.”
Josh takes a fistful of his hair, pressing his mouth right up to Heath’s ear – and I see the dominant side of my boyfriend. One that makes my pulse race.
“No switching, Heath. Answer the question. Do you want my girlfriend to be hurting when she has to leave you? Do you want her to pine for you between sessions?”
“I wouldn’t want to hurt Ella, Josh. Not emotionally.”
“That’s not what I’m asking.” He angles Heath’s face down, so his eyes are locked on mine. “Look at her, baby, and tell me. Do you want my girlfriend to be hurting when she leaves you? Do you want her to need you so fucking bad, it makes her ache?”
I hitch up, coaxing Heath’s cock inside me. Please.
Josh’s words are fucked up, but hot.
“I’ll want Ella to be baring my marks when you fly away,” Heath says. “I certainly want to make our proposals fucking memorable. That’s not in question.”
“Fuck you, Heath, just answer the real question. Fuck her cunt, and tell me the truth.”
One pop of a barbell, and I moan for him. I know what I want the answer to be…
Two, and I wince, my pussy so desperate, it’s screaming.
“Answer the fucking question, Heath,” Josh says again. “You opted for truth, so give it to me. Do you want my girlfriend to be aching after you? Missing you? Crazy with the need to see you again once you say goodbye?”
A pause. So heated, it fucking burns.
“SAY IT!” Josh snaps. “Cut the crap, Heath, and just fucking say it!”
“You already know the fucking answer,” Heath says, and slams all four of the other barbells in, balls deep in my pussy as I yelp. “Yes, I want her to fucking miss me. I want to give her morning after syndrome , I want to drive her fucking crazy, and you know it. You’ve known it since you very first brought her along to my place and admitted she was your fucking girlfriend while my cock was buried deep.”
Heath’s eyes are so deep and savage on Josh’s.
“You can give me a truth yourself now, Josh baby. It’s what you wanted, isn’t it? From the moment you brought her along, you wanted me to be aching too. That’s why you told me she was your girlfriend. You knew it would change the game.”
Heath fucks me as I moan, my tits bobbing as the two men above me battle out in a stare – just as severe in tension as they were on the court earlier.
“Yes, I knew it would change the game,” my boyfriend admits.
“And how about you? Do you ever suffer with morning after syndrome when you leave my place, or do you just whistle as you walk away?”
Josh tugs on Heath’s hair, running his tongue up my idol’s cheek.
“I had morning after syndrome from the very first moment I met you, Heath. I was already aching before I walked away.”
Jesus Christ, how they kiss.
It’s fucking magical.
Tongues twisting, breaths ragged with grunts and groans as the two men devour each other. It was an explosion of magnitude all set to unleash. A truth ready to boom into the air.
And now it has, it won’t be forgotten. Drunken games night aside, it may be buried under banter , but it’s there now. The veil has been ripped away.
“I’ve got a dare now for you both now,” I moan up at them, Heath’s cock grating at just the right angle. “Be brave boys and double up in my cunt with no rubbers or lube.”
That’s a fucking dare alright. One false move and their piercings could snag on each other’s. Ouch. Blood, sweat and stinging cocks.
“Dare accepted,” Josh says. “Unless Heath is going to be a pussy about it.”
Josh pulls away from Heath and reclines on the sofa beside me, working his giant pierced cock in his hand.
Heath tears his dick out of me in one, and the pair of them haul me onto Josh’s cock, my cunt sucking him in like a hungry mouth. A hungry mouth that is hungry for two…
“I’m not a pussy, Josh. I want pussy.”
“From competition to teamwork,” Josh says as Heath lines up. “Better be careful. If we tangle piercings, we’ll be a mess.”
“Good job we know each other so well then, isn’t it?” Heath says, watching Josh’s dick pumping into me. “Let’s fuck your girlfriend’s cunt on the same fucking pitch.”
Josh pulls out so both men can work their cocks together, and I smile at the ceiling, drunk – heady and waiting. They normally use rubbers for two in one.
Taking two is going to hurt… especially without a warmup.
My cunt has to strain like fuck to take them both at once. Their cocks are so in sync that there is no wiggle room, nothing but one solid double pole that forces its way inside, and then uses me – with deep, long thrusts that have me moaning like the slut I am.
Josh and Heath are two teammates working in perfect union as they savage my pussy, and they are still in perfect union as they reach the crest – Heath striking a delight of a chord for my benefit, with his thumb on my clit.
Excellent work, partners.
We are all on the same team as we come together, my tits bobbing as I groan and swallow them up, crazy for deep, deep, deep, fucking DEEPER!
Heaven is a place on Earth.
It’s in a villa in France, on a weeklong vacation.
The guys are very careful in the aftermath, pulling out slowly to check out their cum slick cocks. Phew. They haven’t tangled. No piercings snagged.
“Great work,” I say as I catch my breath. “Top marks for that dare. You got me good.”
Heath smiles down at me, with a dirty sparkle in his eye.
“About what you shared earlier…” he says. “About a man you call Daddy …”
I lick my lips. “What about him?”
He spreads my thighs, checking out my cum dripping pussy.
“You said he uses a flannel to clean you out when you’ve been a naughty girl… in freezing cold water…”
“Yes, he does.”
Heath tips his head towards the doorway.
“I’ve got another suggestion for a party game,” he says. “ Show not tell .”
Josh nips at my shoulder.
“Fuck, yeah. You’d better get your ass in that shower for Heathy baby,” my boyfriend tells me. “I think our client wants to try out fatherhood .”
“Gladly,” I giggle, and let Heath help me to my feet.
The energy has changed and lightened by the time we each take another glass of wine with a cheers , and Heath is back to our client again. All fun and games, and kinky proposals.
But the truth is out there now. Its face has been unveiled in the room.
Morning after syndrome has nothing on how Josh and I feel about Heathy baby.
Leaving him behind always hurts.
And it’s only going to get worse.