TWENTY-SIX Longevity
DOMINIC
I’m not shy by any stretch of the imagination. Also, Maxine the house manager is the same age as many of the former Janes I used to service back in Boston. Yet she’s not a customer or client. She’s the lady who does our laundry, keeps us fed, and looks after all the domestic shit within the house.
Which makes this awkward.
We’ve all gone motionless as if the woman is a T-Rex and can’t see us if we stay still. But with her staring through her cupped hands like she is, I’m pretty sure she’s able to determine plenty. If Maxine didn’t realize what’s been happening with her beloved Sadie up till now, she’s just been handed a really explicit update.
Talk about a rude awakening.
“Max, step back. I’m fine. We’re all fine, but we’d like some privacy, if you don’t mind,” Sadie counters in a tone as stern as the house manager’s.
I expect some blowback. This lady may not be Sadie’s mother, but our client is barely twenty-three years old. I’ve heard of some mothers who baby their kids—particularly their daughters—way past then.
Will Maxine be like that?
The woman straightens as if chastised. “Very well, then.”
After that, she does a brisk about-face and stalks away. I can’t tell if she’s pissed off, embarrassed, or what. But it’s not every day that you find your employer having a full-on orgy in the backseat of her SUV, either.
Hope this doesn’t cause Sadie any trouble.
I peek over at Jerome and frown. Of all of us, he’s the one who stays the most level-headed, but if his eyes were any wider, I swear they’d roll right out of his head. I nudge him with an elbow, and he blinks, looking normal again.
Good.
Despite having had an orgasm a minute ago, my shaft is still holding its shape inside Sadie’s perfect little pucker because of the snug confines, but it’s time to disengage.
And the sooner Zach pulls out and Sadie rotates off me, the sooner we can all get decent and face the music, whatever that music might be.
Jerome, who has tucked his junk back in and buttoned up, is opening the back door and getting out. Zach hauls himself off Sadie who then leans over that back seat to retrieve her clothing, tossing ours back to us as well. Within minutes, we’re all clothed and as modest looking as anyone else during January in New Hampshire.
It’s the best I can hope for. Even if it’s Sadie rather than Maxine who looks peeved.
“What she’s even doing here on the weekend?” she mumbles out loud, although this doesn’t seem directed at any one of us.
All the chemical satiation we’ve accomplished has evaporated, and I think we’re all on pins and needles as we file one by one into the main part of the residence. We follow Sadie in, and I’m anticipating some big knock-down drag-out to happen as she confronts her house manager.
Only that’s not what goes down.
“Why are you here, Max?”
“I realized I forgot to defrost those mini quiches for Monday, so I reckoned I’d drop by. I’ll be out of your hair shortly.” The lady clears her throat all stiff-like. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“Oh,” Sadie says, any hackles she raised settling. “We’ll leave you to it then.”
I stand there for a sec, not sure if this is over or not. It’s like hearing thunder getting closer and closer only for it to dissipate into nothing when it was about to be right on top of you.
When no one else speaks up, I take the task on myself. “We good?”
Sadie peers at me through eyes that don’t seem stressed in the least and grins. Grins after all that. “We’re excellent.”
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FEbrUARY
After January dashed by in what my mother used to call dribs and drabs, February arrives both too soon and too late. Time will move at a snail’s pace anytime I’m missing Paisley, then lurch forward like a bat out of hell at other points.
As screwball as living with a client and two other dudes originally sounded, I’ve become used to their company. We all get along, and once our goal altered to gathering our resources together to bring Sadie whatever she wants or needs—meals, companionship, entertainment, orgasms—time at this place became... comfortable. Familiar. Cozy.
If we part ways, I might even miss them.
We sleep in her massive rigged-up beds every night. There’s enough mattress space for all of us but somehow we all seem to wake snuggled up. Even if I’m next to Sadie and she’s not against me when I drift off, she’ll be all tucked into my side when I roll over after sunrise.
She’s not the only person who migrates all over the bed while asleep. I had to drown my amusement one day when Zach apparently took Jerome’s back to be his pillow and woke up huddled over the man as if Jerome was his teddy bear. I wish I’d taken a pic of it. The look on the younger man’s face was priceless.
Mornings around here are always interesting, mainly due to the amount of wood tenting the sheets. Even if we conk out in PJs rather than nude, nature’s going to take its course. At first, Sadie wouldn’t notice any of this because of how late she sleeps in. But lately, we’ve all been rising and shining closer to the same time.
Especially the rising part.
Just today, Sadie went from what Jerome calls her drowsy grumpy face to lighting up like the pinball machine in the arcade.
“What do we have here?” she asks me tilting her head toward my obvious erection pushing up the covers before sliding her hand under there.
I take a breath when she does. I love it when she’s like this, all sleep-tousled and touchy-feely. I tuck her caramel-brown hair behind her ear, my thumb brushing the scarring on her left cheek.
“Something just for you.”
She grins. She’s doing that so much more lately. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“I might have to do something about that.”
“He’s not the only one,” Jerome says from the other side of me, lying on his back to display his similar plight.
Zach, who often dozes face up, is hard under there, too. He opens his eyes, scrubbing a hand along his chin, and blinks at us all staring at his crotch.
“What’s going on?”
Sadie doesn’t answer him. Instead, she propels herself up into a seated position. “Anyone interested in playing a game?”
She has this glimmer in her eye, the one that means she’s up to something more impish than usual. We all dutifully give in. It is what we’re here for.
“Anyone have a timer?” she inquires next, and though Jerome’s brows bunch, he reaches for his phone.
“Sure.”
“What if I rode each of you to see who’ll last the longest?” A rosy color darkens her complexion. I get the feeling that Sadie likes being risqué but still isn’t as brave about it as she craves to be.
But that has been altering, bit by bit.
Narrowing my gaze at a wide-eyed Zach and a confident-looking Jerome, I flick a glance over to Sadie. “I’m in it to win it.”
“Speaking of winning,” Jerome chimes in, leaning over me to circle her nipple over her nightgown. “Is there a prize?”
“How about the winner gets to see the waterfall?” She poses this as a suggestion, but I’m not the only one confused.
“There’s a waterfall around here?” Zach asks.
“Yes. On the far northeast corner of the property. It’s part of the reason my dad bought the Starlight Chalet.”
“And we’re just now hearing about this because...” Jerome prompts her. He doesn’t sound miffed or anything. That’s not how he rolls. Just curious.
“Let’s just say traveling over there in the winter is enchanting and divine. But it’s also freezing. There’s no easy way to get there without being in danger of falling in. It’s more of a summer activity. So, there’d have to be some delayed gratification involved.”
“Well, I don’t know about these two, but I can delay my gratification, no problem,” Jerome’s flirting style is smooth as silk. Fucker.
“I bet I can delay even longer,” I throw down the gauntlet. I’ve never been to a waterfall, but I’ve wondered what it’d be like.
Sadie shoves her nightgown over her head. “Guess it’s time to determine who’ll be going, then.”
She chooses me as her first player, and while I know I can outlast everyone else, that doesn’t mean it’ll be easy. At least not with Jerome. I’d never refer to Zach as a two-pump chump, but even if his longevity has been getting better, we still have him beat.
Once Sadie crawls aboard, the other two assisting her, it takes me less than two minutes to wring a climax out of her. At this point, we all have this down to a fine science. We’ve learned her body, her likes, and her dislikes well.
I decide to see this as a cycle in the gym and really give her the business. I pound into her from below like a machine, making her come not once, not twice, but three fucking times. In the end, I make it all the way to twenty-two minutes, thirty-three seconds, which is a miracle because when her pussy is milking me, it takes all I’ve got to hold on.
“Top that,” I pant out. And Jerome almost does. But I wind up shutting him out by nineteen seconds. Thin margin, that’s for sure.
When it’s Zach’s turn, Jerome goes to the opposite side of the mattress and sits crossed-legged with his phone timer app in hand, leaning forward like he’s the guy’s coach.
“Come on, man. You can do this. Wipe that smug-ass expression off Dom’s face,” he cheers Zach on, and I snort at them.
“Waterfall, here I come.”
Zach braces himself as Sadie impales herself on him, his voice tight. I’ve so got this. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”
Jerome also had Sadie coming three times—okay, we might still be somewhat competitive—while Zach gets her there once in twenty minutes. But I’m getting more nervous. He shouldn’t have made it this far. But he has. Worse, he’s still going, even if he sounds like he’s being tortured.
“Holy shit. Just fuck...” he complains, or really I suppose this is him expressing how good she feels. Sadie’s pussy is a dream, and her backside is heaven.
I can’t decide which is better. Zach probably won’t ever know. That thick-as-fuck cockhead of his is too big for her to comfortably accommodate, though she’s taken Jerome’s nine inches partway. I might not be the hugest of them, but my upward-tilted shape has its benefits.
But that’s when Zach surpasses my best time and goes all the way to twenty-three minutes, two seconds.
Dammit.
Yeah, I was looking forward to that waterfall, but it’s more the principle of the thing. A twenty-two-year-old kid outdid me. Sure, he’s an athlete, but up till now, being able to move around a pole like a member of the Cirque de Soleil hasn’t provided him any real endurance in the sack. But it seems that has changed.
Shit.
Yet, it’s stuff like this that makes me understand something I never would’ve thought would happen. Despite wanting to be back in Boston, I like being here. It doesn’t feel like prostitution, like I’m getting paid to be some client’s plaything. Sadie doesn’t objectify us. She enjoys us. And we enjoy her.
And I’m doing more than enjoy her, too. I appreciate that she’s doing so much better. That she’s healing. It’s been great watching her transform into someone she wants to be. I’m here for it.
I’m here for her.
And the four of us... I don’t know. I like hanging out not just with Sadie but with the others, too. Even if we have noisy and opposing opinions about hockey, basketball, and football. Even if we’re still competing for points with Sadie but in a totally different way. I think they’ve become my buddies somehow.
Isn’t that wild?
As for Sadie, there’s been no meltdowns, no sleepwalking, and no more tirades. She’s had some restless nights, but she hasn’t wandered around again, at least not beyond our bedroom. She also hasn’t scared us in the middle of the night by having loud arguments with her deceased mom. So, that’s a plus.
But there’s an elephant in the room that no one’s discussing.
The contract. The terms of our agreement to come here aren’t the terms we’ve been living by. Even though none of us ever signed anything to make a change. I may not be a lawyer or anything, but I can’t help wondering where that leaves us.
How does Sadie see this going? Will she honor the contract anyway? Is she considering not hiring just one but all of us?
Or am I being a presumptuous asshole to even think that?
I’ve received every single payment from Elegance so far automatically and on time. And since I’ve been here with Sadie, she’s been more generous than she’s had to be. But this is still her ballgame and her course to plot. It all comes down to this...
Will she continue what we’ve started here in New Hampshire back in Massachusetts?
That’s the question we—all of us—deserve to have answered.
Yet I haven’t brought it up with her. And to my knowledge, none of the rest of us have, either.