CHAPTER SEVEN
KAREN
When I entered the shop, all my hopes were on meeting the manager, making a good impression and getting an application form. It went so much better than that. The manager was expecting me.
True to his word, Decker had called in and given a glowing report already. After an impromptu interview, the manager, Frank, offered me a trial shift in the shop. There were no guarantees anything would come of it, but I felt exceedingly hopeful.
Apparently, they were severely understaffed, and if it worked out, I could work many extra shifts. Of course, my modeling career paid a far higher hourly rate, but for too few hours. And there was no future in it. I didn't know how much longer they'd actually need me.
Those brothers had so many photos of me naked and in every possible position already. And with so many props. They probably didn't need many more. They'd even tried me up, which felt amazing. I'd like to do that again.
I relived it over and over in my mind.
Two ripped, tattooed guys restraining me until I was completely helpless and exposed with my legs apart and my pussy soaking wet. They could have done anything with me right then, I'd have given my full consent, and I would've enjoyed it.
Of course, they didn't take advantage, pity; they merely took photographs.
For two young single men, they had mindbogglingly impressive self-control along with impeccable manners.
I wanted them to touch me. I longed for it. Desperately. I was almost ready to beg, but I didn't. I kept myself under control too. Perhaps that's what we were all doing: denying ourselves something we all wanted.
They could see how much the situation turned me on, and I could see they were too. I wanted them to undo their belts, to open their flies. I wanted to see their hard cocks in their hands before they entered me. Both of them. Taking me every which way.
Those sessions had been the source of many erotic fantasies. I'd never engaged in such frequent self-pleasure as I had since meeting them. In my dreams, I'd like them to drop their technical equipment and explore a lot more with me.
I felt safe knowing that they wouldn't overstep any boundaries. I felt safe enough to let myself go in front of them. Safe enough to just be aroused and in the moment without any consequences.
I only had to think of our sessions together, and I warmed inside.
And I also recalled the disappointment of the previous night.
Despite all his charm and my high hopes, it seems Decker wasn't interested in me that way, but just as a friend. I misread his signals. When he reached out to me as a friend, I misread the signals and thought he was flirting.
Confusion swirled within me. I couldn't reconcile my attraction toward Decker with the desire I had for his brothers. I suspected it wasn't right to lust after two men and even more wrong to lust after three.
Decker didn't know how much I fantasized about his brothers, but if he did, he certainly wouldn't want to sleep with me. He wouldn't keep meeting up with me before my modeling sessions. He wouldn't want to take me out.
Luckily I hadn't slept with Decker. Still, I owed him an enormous debt of thanks for getting me in the door of the art shop. As soon as I exited the arts shop, I pulled out my cellphone and typed a message.
Karen: Thanks for helping.
Decker: My pleasure.
Karen: I've got a trial shift.
Decker: That's great.
Karen: Will I see you later when I turn up to model for your brothers?
Decker: No today. I am at the college until later.
That was a disappointing blow. Another rejection. He didn't want us to spend the night together and, so far, he had met me every day before I worked for his brothers. Suddenly he has to go to college. While I wondered what I'd done wrong a new message appeared.
Decker: We should celebrate your new job
Karen: I haven't got it yet.
Decker: You will! Dinner?
Karen: Yes. Great.
I didn't have to think twice about it. He wanted to see me again. This message put me on an instant high. I enjoyed his company, and perhaps he didn't sleep with girls on the first date. I just might be in with a chance.