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Harem: An MFMM Romance by Abby Angel (63)

Ashley

“Hi this is Misty, who am I speaking with?” I say into the phone as I lean back. I’ve put on white lace stockings with a matching white lace thong and lace bra. I have heels on, and I decide to recline on my sofa.

The truth is, I need this. I need to get back to de-personalizing the sex—especially after yesterday morning.

I can still remember the events as they happened.

“You are fucking amazing,” Arsen said to me as I stared up at him, his cum dripping from my face and body. In that moment, the fog of lust began to slowly clear from my brain and for a moment, I felt…what was it? Familiarity? Love?

I quickly got up from the floor of his living room and ran to the bathroom. I showered as quickly as I could and put on my clothes to look as presentable as possible.

“Where are you going?” Arsen asked me when I emerged all prepared for the day.

“Some of us have to work, you know?” I asked back, rhetorically.

He snorted and took a step closer to me. I took a step back.

I can’t understand why.

“Hi Misty,” the voice on the phone breathes. “My name is Max.”

“Oh, I’ve been waiting for someone like Max with a sexy name all day long,” I coo into the phone. “What are you wearing?”

As Max goes on and on about what he’s wearing, I think back to how I left Arsen’s apartment yesterday morning.

“I thought we could get brunch,” Arsen said to me as I made for the door.

I kept walking.

“Is everything okay?” Arsen asked again. This brought me up short. I turned to him.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you owned the strip club?” I asked him.

He stared at me, putting on a robe so he wasn’t completely naked and walked over.

“Does it bother you?” he asked.

I think it did bother me. Even now, I think it still bothers me.

“What bothers me the most though is what Yasmine said,” I replied back to him. “She said that the owner of the strip club also owned the phone sex company that I work at. Called…”

He didn’t let me finish. “Simulated Pleasures, LLC,” he finished my sentence for me. “And yes, I own that as well.”

At first I didn't know what to say. But I know that Arsen was watching me.

“That means you know what I do for a living,” I stated. It wasn’t so much a question as more a statement to myself. “You know what I’ve had to do in the past. How I’ve had to dance.”

Arsen nodded. “I don’t care about any of that,” he said. “I only inherited this company from my father…”

But I didn't let him finish. “I don’t think this is appropriate, Arsen,” I said. “You own the company I work for, and I don’t think we’d ever be equals in any sort of relationship.”

Arsen snorted and looked at me. “Are you fucking serious?” he asked as he got up. “You didn’t let me cum just now till you were ready for me!”

My defenses must have gone up because I gave him a fake plastic smile and looked at him. “Goodbye Arsen,” I said. “Take care.”

And with that I walked out of his apartment toward the elevator. I stayed still all through the elevator and kept my composure. It was only when I get into the cab that I looked into my lap and tried to make as little noise as possible as I began to cry.

“Hello?” the voice of Max jars me awake from my reverie.

I start and look at the meter on my computer. I recently installed the software that the office gave me. It shows how long the call has been going and the estimated charges as well as the royalties I should expect.

“Are you still there?” Max asks, a bit unsure as to why a phone sex operator would put him on hold.

The thought makes me smile and I let my smile color my voice. “I’m still here, baby,” I whisper into the phone. “Just hearing you talk started getting me so hot and bothered I needed a place to lay down.”

“Oh yeah?” I can see the ear-to-ear grin on Max’s face as he asks this. “What are you wearing?”

“Oh baby, I put on a special lace white thong on for you just now, and a matching bra,” I reply back. “Do you like that?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Max says into the phone. “I like that a lot.”

“How do you want me?” I ask him. I’ve been learning. Sometimes I lead the conversation. Sometimes when I’m feeling generous, I let the client lead. I’ve been trying to get the clients talking more instead of just getting them off as quickly as possible. I think it does two things. It keeps them on the phone longer. But more importantly, having them talk about themselves starts making them regulars. They end up investing in me emotionally.

“I want to bend you over and slide your panties off,” Max whispers into the phone.

“Ooh, yeah, baby, I like that,” I say into the phone. I can’t help it, but I picture bending over the table in my kitchen with Arsen behind me.

“I want to rub my hands up and down your body, and take off your bra so I can lick those hard nipples of yours,” Max says slowly.

“Oh, they’re so hard right now,” I say into the phone. And guess what? They are. Because I’m thinking of this happening to me. With Arsen, no less. I can’t help it. I can’t get his body out of my head. But more than his body. He’s got the heart of a saint. I know he says he’s not a good man. But he’s been nothing but gracious to me. Kind, warm, protective … loving.

I want to use one hand to squeeze those nipples as I suck them,” Max says into the phone. “I want to use the other hand to smack that ass.”

I close my eyes and picture Arsen squeezing my tits. Of Arsen slapping my ass cheek.

“Sounds like you like it, baby,” Max says. I didn’t realize it but I had given an involuntarily moan into the phone.

“I want to slap that ass,” Max says again. He’s breathing erratically. I can tell he’s stroking himself. “Hard.”

“Ohhh, baby,” I moan. He’s starting to have an effect on me. I bring my free hand down and begin to gently rub my clit over my panties.

“I want to lower my face and use my tongue to lick around your folds,” Max says.

Arsen’s face as he licked my pussy goes through my head. As he scooped out cum with his tongue before he fed it to me.

“Ohhhh,” I groan as arcs of pleasure start to permeate through my body. Max continues, obviously excited by the fact that his words seem to be having a real and noticeable affect on me.

“I want to pull out my cock and…” Max continues but somehow I stop paying attention to what he says.

All I can see, and trust me, it seems so real, is Arsen stroking his thick, 12-inch cock in front of me. I’m on my knees. Then all of a sudden I’m grinding my ass against that hard cock of his. Like yesterday morning. Feeling it pulse. Thick and hard.

I can feel Arsen’s hands on my body as I begin to stimulate my clit. I can feel his thick and powerful tongue flick my clit. I can feel him use his tongue to press against my clit, playing with it. Teasing it. Massaging it. Biting it. Licking it. Sucking it.

Oh my God. What am I doing? Is Max still on the line?

I don’t care. But I don’t dare talk. All I do is moan. All I do is breathe and mewl.

In my head, Arsen is my Angel of Sin. I run my tongue between the creases of his abs. He runs his tongue over my asshole.

Shudders of pleasure go through me. My body seizes up. I let loose a growl. And then a lewd moan escapes my lips as I forget all about what's polite. A seizure of ecstasy travels through my body and I’m left shaking for a moment.

I’m light-headed when I open my eyes. I’m panting. Sweating. Hot.

“That was so fucking hot!” Max says into the phone.

I want to reply, but I can’t. I just lay there, my panties damp and my body satisfied.

“I’m calling you back every day!” Max says. He says something more but I honestly am having trouble paying attention. It’s the most I can do to tell him I’ll be waiting and then he hangs up.

I look at the computer. He was on the line for 15 minutes. That’s at least $54. With $26 going to me. Not a bad gig for 15 minutes of work.

I could get used to this.

And then an email pops up on my phone.

“Congratulations on a solid 5-star rating from all clients over the last 24 hours!” the email reads. It goes on to congratulate me on my repeat clients and my rating.

I read it and realized that I just made Arsen half the money that I’m getting. Maybe it goes to other people, but it’s based on a company he started and still owns.

The thought chills me. With so much sex at this man’s disposal, why is he interested in me? And how long will it even last? With those looks and body of his, I’m surprised if he ever speaks to me again. It’s already been over 24 hours and I haven’t heard from him at all.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not prude or anything. I’ve had a pretty dirty past and I’m very, very sexual as you can tell.

But Arsen is a line that’s in a completely different league. And right now, this job and the money it affords me needs to take priority. The only way I can do that is by keeping Arsen Hawke at arm’s length.

I hope to myself that his gorgeous body will start to fade from memory over time.

But the part of my brain that uses logic tells me that I’m already in too deep. There’s nothing I can do now, it tells me.

Great. Thanks for nothing, brain!

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