If Arsen is going to keep feeding me like this, I’m going to have to start spending an extra hour at the gym. I mean, seriously. We’re sitting on his terrace balcony, overlooking Central Park. He has a massive table that’s laid out with breakfast. I have my choice of scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, slices of white or wheat bread, fruit, yogurt, granola, and croissants.

Oh, there’s also pancakes. There’s coffee, tea, orange juice and cereal.

Apparently, the building concierge has been instructed to prepare a breakfast spread every day for Arsen since I’ve started spending more and more time with him.

Arsen however, is just eating some bacon and a croissant, with some coffee, and reading the New York Daily Journal. The sound of taxis and delivery trucks wafts over to our little terrace in the clouds and I look over at my handsome breakfast companion.

“You live very well, Arsen,” I tell him, smiling. He looks over at me and smiles. Last night he took me to the MOMA where we saw the unveiling of some new Frederick Hart sculptures that hadn’t been released to the public after the sculptor’s death. Variations on Three Goddesses and Cross of the Millennium on both bronze and acrylic resin. I look into the room. Arsen bought one of the pieces and it’s sitting in the living room, purchased and now forgotten. Which would be fine if it was a dress from Bloomingdales, except that this tiny sculpture costs around $150,000.

After we got home, he wasted no time in celebrating his acquisition by unzipping my black dress and kissing my neck. Actually, if we’re being completely honest here, I was already wet when he pulled me over at the MOMA and whispered into my ear, “I want to fuck you senseless right now, Ash. Just rip your fucking panties off and shove my cock inside of you and pound you till you scream so loud that only the fucking birds can hear you.”

I mean, sure, I had splurged a bit on the dress. It was backless and showed off my ass pretty good. But work has been great. I got a $500 bonus this week. So I mean, I didn’t mind that I was having that effect on him.

I take a piece of toast and bite into it, thinking back to last night. It had been a nice night, so by the time his clothes were off and my panties were…I don’t actually know what happened to them. Either he ripped them off or I took them off, but we threw them somewhere and I can’t find them this morning. I think I saw my bra in the kitchen sink. Oh well. Where was I? Oh yeah, by the time I was naked, we actually ended up on the terrace. He lay me down on the table and proceeded to defile me in the most delicious ways possible.

Seriously, having sex with this man each time is like having sex for the first time with him. I cum at least once for sure, but as many as eight times. Although by then, the orgasms are all ripping up my body in one wave after another. There have been times I’ve blacked out for a few minutes because it’s just too much pleasure. And then afterwards, I’m in like some sort of post-orgasm coma, where I just sit there blinking and enjoying the endorphins going through my body.

“What are you up to today?” Arsen asks me looking up from his paper with a look like he just remembered something as I look at him. I’ve never really made a big deal about our schedules, telling him that my schedule is pretty flexible—I mean, I can work whenever. But still, out of habit I pull out my phone.

And I freeze.

I have a meeting with Client 5 on my calendar. Oh my God!

How could I have forgotten? I thought it was yesterday.

No way I’m letting him go to another girl. Not because I’m worried about losing the fees. No, more because I want to talk to him.

As sexed up as Arsen has gotten me, King Henry hits another spot in my brain and in my heart. Because we only talk for little bits, I crave the time I have with him jealously. I need him.

But the meeting—or call—or whatever is scheduled in ten minutes.

I look over at Arsen, wondering what it is that I can say. I mean, what can I even say to someone, anyone, if I have to leave in 10 minutes? Like, sorry I didn’t realize but I have to go have phone sex with a client? To the man who is feeding me breakfast?

How did I ever end up in a situation like this? Where I’m lying to two men?

“Ash, I need to go do something real quick that I forgot,” Arsen says not looking me in the eyes. I nod absently, wondering how I’m going to get away. “You think you’ll be okay having breakfast for like half an hour or so? I just need to pop out real quick but I’ll be back, I promise.”

Wait a second! He’s giving me an out. This is almost like Divine Providence or something giving me an opportunity. Although later on I need to remember to make sure and find out where he’s going. Under normal circumstances I’d be pretty curious where he was off to, but right now, I’m not going to take a gift horse and look it in the mouth. Not this girl. I'm smarter than that.

“I’ll just go lay down for a little bit then,” I tell him with a coy smile. “Still a bit exhausted from last night.”

I give him my best innocent smile and kiss him goodbye thinking to myself how ironic this situation must be because normally I would be so curious where he’s off to.

But not right now.

Now, in this moment, I’ve already started getting wet thinking of King Henry’s deep, gravelly voice. Within a minute, Arsen is out the door. I rush inside and it takes me just a few seconds to slide off my yoga pants and whip off my tank top. I lounge on the bed in my bra and panties, my heart trembling at the call that will get re-routed to my cell phone.

Four minutes to go. They seem to last an eternity. My heart rate increases with each passing second. I feel the dampness in my pussy and can tell that without even talking to me, King Henry has gotten my panties wet.

At last, the call comes and the phone vibrates. It startles me and for a second I’m scared. But the fear doesn’t stop me from accepting the call and with a shaky voice filled with excitement I speak into the phone.

“Hi this is Misty, who am I speaking to?” I say, seeing Client 5 on the screen and holding my breath till he speaks.

There’s a pause and a rustle and finally, “Hi, Misty, where are you?”

Now it’s my turn to pause. I don’t know what to answer.

“Are you at home?” he asks me.

“N-No,” I say.

“No what?” he retorts.

I close my eyes. “No, King Henry.”

“Good, you remembered.”

“Yes, King.”

“Where are you? Are you with someone? At their place?” he asks me and I close my eyes.

“Yes, King, I’m at someone else’s place. On their bed,” I answer. My heart is beating at what he’ll say.

“What are you wearing?” he asks.

“I have on a pink cheeky and a lace pink bra, King,” I reply back. “I’m on his bed talking to you.”

“Does he know you’re talking to me?” my King asks.

“No, King,” I tell him. “He went out for a while.”

“Does he make you cum when you fuck him?” my King asks.

I gulp. But I’m this far in anyways. And I’m so wet. “Yes, King, he makes me cum,” I reply. And I can’t help but add, “Hard.”

“Good,” the King says. “I want you to touch yourself and tell me what you’re doing.”

“I have my fingers under my panties,” I tell him. “I’m stroking my clit.”

“Are you wet, kitten?” he asks.

I gasp. A momentary shudder goes through me. “Yes, King,” I say. “I’m very wet.”

“I want you to imagine me next to you, kitten,” he says. “I want you to imagine me pressing my fingers over your wetness, sliding one finger into your pussy.”

My heart races as I begin to stroke my clit to his words.

“I want you to think of my hands stroking your clit, faster, and harder, and faster still,” he says and my fingers time themselves to stroke with every cadence of his speech. I let out a moan.

“Are you enjoying this, kitten?” he asks.

“Yes, King,” I reply. “Please don’t stop.”

“Beg me to not stop,” he orders. “Beg me to keep going. To tell you how my tongue traces the contours of your pussy and flicks itself against your nub.”

Oh my God. I’m panting as my fingers continue.

“Tell me,” he commands.

“Please don’t stop, King,” I moan as he breaths deeply. “Please don’t stop licking my pussy.”

“I want to slide another finger inside of you kitten, do that for me now,” he commands and I do as he says.

“I want to hook it inside of you and massage your walls while my tongue flicks your clit,” he continues.

The way he says the word clit sends shivers up my spine and it times perfectly with my fingers as they do their work.

“Are your nipples hard?” he asks me. I can feel that they are and it takes me a moment to clear my throat. “Yes, King, my nipples are hard for you.”

“I want to twist them. Do that for me,” he orders and I pull my bra down, place the phone on the bed putting it on speakerphone and begin to flick and twist my nipple.

It feels so wrong, doing this on Arsen’s bed. I know what I’m doing. But I just don’t care at this point. Lust has overtaken my brain as King Henry comes through the speakers of the phone.

“Now imagine my cock, thick and hard, kitten,” he says. “Blood pumping through its veins as it hovers over you, ready to penetrate your pussy. Imagine it as it slides in and fills you. Expands you.”

I can’t take much more of this. I’m going to cum soon. I feel the threshold lowering and myself passing the point of no return.

“Imagine my hands over you, squeezing your ass as I pound your pussy,” he says over the phone. “Imagine as I suck your tits and spank your ass. Hard.”

I wouldn’t care at this point who walked in the door. At that very moment I’ve lost myself to the pleasure I’m about to experience.

“Imagine my hands as they spank your ass cheeks. My cock pistoning in and out of you…”

I don’t hear any more. I’ve lost the capacity. I close my eyes. The body of Arsen Hawke is over me in my head with the voice of King Henry. Fucking me. Dominating me completely.

I let go and cum.

Waves of pleasure go through my body and I let out a moan that is earthy and lewd at the same time. A fire spreads from my loins and rips through my body, leaving me sweating and trembling as my muscles seize up and contract. Pleasure knocks me out and my eyes roll back inside my head. I arch my body and feel myself give way to numbness and nothingness. I’m awake, but incapacitated by fire. And ice. I’m weightless but can’t move. My body twitches and I lose my sight. Stars fill my vision and I lose myself in a void.

When I come to, I’m breathing heavily. So is King Henry on the other side of the phone. My heart is pounding and I take the phone.

“Are you there?” he asks me.

“Yes, King,” I say weakly, still recovering from the orgasm that ripped through my body.

“Good, be kind to your friend when he returns,” King Henry says, and with that he hangs up.

Leaving me lying there on Arsen’s bed.

My panties are wet so I take them off, and I throw my bra across the room as well. I’m lying naked in a haze on Arsen’s bed and all I want is more sex. I don’t care if Arsen asks me what I’m doing when he comes back in and I lay there.

After a few minutes, I hear the door open and footsteps come into his room.

I’m staring at the ceiling, lost in a sea of post-orgasmic bliss when I notice him taking his clothes off. He joins me on the bed, kissing my stomach, and then my tits. I shudder. Not in fear, but in pleasure as his hands roam my body before settling on my mound, pressing down on it.

I’m ready for more and I wrap my arms around him and pull him closer to me.

“You look like you need a good fucking,” Arsen says with a smirk.

“Less talk,” I say to him, wrapping my legs around his torso and bucking my hips like a wild woman. “More cock.”

I’m going to have a price to pay at one point. I know that. But for now, all I can think of is the moment. I just pray that this pleasure never stops.