I’ve never been so bored in a four-way in my life.

French girls, right? Fine as hell, but they taste like cigarettes, cheap wine, and stale baguettes.

I was chatting up the blonde, then the redhead at the bar earlier tonight. Just when I was about to drop a cheap line about taking this ménage à trois back to my place at the Bradford, their blue-haired friend came back from the bathroom and suddenly we were talking ménage à quatre.

Don’t get me wrong here—I’m a red-blooded American man, and I have nothing in particular against horny French libertines. In fact, a year or two ago, I would have been coming all over all three of their high-cheekboned faces before they could say sacré fucking bleu—

But either I’m off my game, or I’m just not into four-ways anymore. Tonight, I just couldn’t care less.

I mean, sure. Obviously, I fuck ‘em anyway.

I bend the blonde over the ottoman and do to her what the Russians did to Napoleon.

I take the redhead on the floor by the fireplace until she’s screaming, “Mon Dieu! MON DIEU!”

And I let the bluenette suck me off all she fucking wants—but it doesn’t change anything.

My dick is hard, my balls are aching for release, and my inner caveman is doing everything in its power to convince me to sow seed in all this French pussy…

But man, my heart just isn’t into it.

To my surprise, as the blonde and the redhead drop to their knees on either side of the blue-haired one, I just find myself holding my breath and listening in.

The blonde was yelping like an overexcited poodle on her first day at the dog park just a few minutes ago, so it’s not like we’re not making a ruckus.

Not to mention the shit the redhead was yelling while I gave her multiple consecutive anal orgasms just there on the floor. Either she came so hard she started speaking in tongues, or I seriously need to brush up on my French.

Even now, all the cooing and sighing that these three are doing over my cock has to be reverberating through the floorboards and making 32D grind her pearly white teeth.

So I hold that thought in my head like a promise to my aching balls: pretty soon, her pretty little fingers are going to be wrapping around the hard, thick shaft of her broomstick, and she’ll start ramming it against the ceiling so hard that…

“Do you want to fuck me?” the bluenette gasps, looking up at me with hungry eyes.

I grab her head and push her mouth back down on my cock.

When I picked these three up, I thought the accent was going to be a turn-on.

Instead, it turns out that it just fucking annoys me. And when I’m getting head from three Parisian bimbos at once, the only person who should be getting annoyed is 32-fucking-D.

So where the hell is she?

I know for a fact that she’s gotta be in her apartment. I swear, the only time she ever leaves is to go out for coffee with her mouthy blonde friend.

Otherwise, she’s sitting at home, doing whatever the fuck it is that 32D does when I’m not getting laid—and yelling at me through the floorboards when I am.

But apparently, not tonight.

It crosses my mind that she might be out on a date. All work and no dick isn’t a way for anyone to live—especially not a woman as fine as 32D is.

I bet she’s got no fucking problem getting dates, either. Even though I have her pegged as a fucking shut in—she probably has to turn down twelve marriage proposals daily on the way to that coffee shop alone.

A woman like her…of course she’s on a date.

Probably with another pretentious asswipe who doesn’t fucking deserve her.

That shouldn’t piss me off so bad…

But, Christ. It does. It fucking does.

“Are you okay?” the bluenette asks.

She’s giving me that look that says, Put it in me, and I figure, yeah, I probably ought to…

Then I hear it.

Not 32D’s thumping on the floorboards beneath me.

Not her shrill little voice yelling up through her ceiling.

But instead…a firm little knock on the door.

I make the blonde one answer.

And then there she is.

32D in all her hot, angry, sweater-clad glory.

She’s seriously wearing next to nothing. A sweater that barely covers her sexy little ass. A pair of long socks that go up to her thighs. Glasses—good lord, those sexy fucking glasses.

There’s a look on her face that says she’s here to start some shit. I get twice as hard as I already am, just anticipating what that shit might be.

What can I say? I fucking love me a mouthy, nerdy little brunette.

“32D.” I put on my most charming grin and salute both above the waist and below it.

“33D,” she says back.

“Neighborly visit?”

“Hardly.”

“Wanna tag in?”

Her scowl deepens—and then it turns fucking sassy.

Goddamn. I fucking love sassy.

“Four girls at once? I don’t think even you could handle that.”

The naked blonde at the door is looking at me like who invited this nerd?

The redhead and the other one are still marveling at the way my big, fat, twelve-inch cock just got even bigger.

And me? I’m already imagining what 32D’s eyes are going to look like behind those glasses when I fuck them crossed.

“You’re right,” I say with a laugh.

“Huh?”

Whatever 32D was expecting from me…well, it sure as hell wasn’t that.

Which makes this next part all the sweeter.

“Ladies,” I address the nude French women. “It’s been lovely, but I’m afraid something’s just come up.”

I give my cock an obligatory glance.

“But—” the blue-haired one says, but frankly, I’m already shifting gears here.

They can stay, or they can leave—I don’t fucking care at this point.

32D is standing here in my doorway with a look on her face like she’s not sure whether she wants to kiss me or smack me.

Either way…I know I’m in for a wild fucking night.