Chapter Seven

Marissa

Things are going so well with Elon, my parents have decided to leave us alone to continue our courtship. He has taken me to fine restaurants all over the city, and I’ve done enough to make him think I’m still interested, while keeping things non-contact and extremely traditional. Elon must think I’m either frigid to the point of frozen, inexperienced and scared to commit, or just disinterested in developing the physical part of what he must think is a burgeoning partnership.

In all honesty, it’s like having a rather annoying tour guide by my side rather than a suitor interested in winning my heart, which, by the way, Elon has clearly demonstrated over the last few days he is completely incapable of doing. He hasn’t worsened, but he hasn’t improved in the slightest either.

I probably sound like a complete and utter bitch, but this hasn’t been easy for me either. My parents have left me with little choice, and this is the only way I can play it to get what I really want, which is Carter and Logan in bed for a night, and after that, who knows? If they both want to fall in love with me and are okay with there being three of us, I can see myself falling hard. If not, I’ll just have to start the search again.

It was Elon that spoke to my parents actually, albeit after I spoke to him to ask on our behalf, the reasoning being that with the initial introductions made there didn’t seem any sense in my parents staying around. One week is plenty for a holiday, especially when there are other tasks at hand, and other family members to concern themselves with. They don’t trust me, but that doesn’t matter at all, as long as they trust Elon, and somehow or another he’s managed to convince them to head back home and leave me alone. We haven’t decided between us how long that might be, and I’ve been asked to give them constant updates, but as long as Elon thinks he has a chance, and neither one of them finds out I’m secretly seeing a stunning pair of celebrity bad boy footballers, I’ll be fine to carry it on for as long as I need to.

There is nothing between Elon and me, I want to make that absolutely clear, even if he thinks that there could be at some point. These aren’t traditional dates we are going on either. I’m there in his company and nothing else, and most of the time I’m thinking about Carter and Logan. I guess that makes me a naughty girl, but like I’ve already said, I don’t have much choice. I’ll get the real men to punish me if they think I need it, each one of their fine bodies making me the meat in a sexy football sandwich.

I’m not prepared to live my life without experiencing the best the world has to offer, and I’m not going to settle for Elon just to please my parents. It’s not fair for me to chuck away a chance at love just because Mom and Dad are worried about me disgracing the family name. Logan and Carter aren’t businessmen or ivy league graduates, but I’m not looking for that anyway, and even if they aren’t academically successful that doesn’t mean they aren’t right for me. You can’t choose who you are attracted to, nor who you fall in love with, but you should be able to choose who you date at the very least.

My parents flew back home this morning. I was worried I’d have to reschedule for tonight, but they decided it would be better to be back at home before the weekend and Elon had done enough to convince them that he’d really prefer they gave me a little freedom because he thought it would have a positive effect on our potential relationship - bullshit I fed him to get the result I wanted.

Elon and I have agreed to meet tomorrow night, which means I have tonight, and tomorrow morning to fulfill my wicked plan. I can hardly believe I’m doing this, not because it’s out of character for me, but because at one point I thought something like this would never happen. Bear in mind I’m also still a virgin, so going to dinner with two men and one very naughty goal in mind requires a confidence I haven’t had time to build up.

Also, I haven’t told Carter that I plan for Logan to join us too, which could see the whole thing end in disaster. I hope not, and I am confident I don’t think it will, but he might need a little more convincing than Logan.

I tell my parents I’m staying in the hotel for the night, because Elon has to work, which is true and because I’m tired anyway, which is definitely not true.

I buy new clothes, I spend the afternoon relaxing and then I bath and shave my legs, armpits, and tight little pussy. I love the shape and feel of my pussy, and how thick and meaty and tender my inner and outer labia are. I have a big clitoris as well, not that I have ever had much to compare it to in real life, but just from looking at pictures on the internet, it’s clear I have more thickness than most other girls. I love touching myself and while I shave my pubic hair into a neat little strip, I let my fingers delve inside and test my wetness. I could easily make myself come like this in a matter of seconds, but I decide that it would be better for all three of us if I left myself wanting so it comes across subconsciously. I know I’m flirtatious anyway, but I notice it, even more, when I’m horny and want to come, and haven’t yet relieved myself. I think that’s what Logan and Carter both picked up on last week, even though Logan was the only one to admit it.

When I’m finished I observe myself in the mirror. I’m petite but it’s never bothered me and I’ve never felt too small either. My tits are firm and a good size in proportion to my body, my nipples are quick to harden when I’m horny and are so sensitive to the touch I think someone could make me come just by sucking them.

I stand with my legs parted a little, run my hands across my belly and down to my now perfectly prepared snatch. There is a little line of hair that dusts the skin at the top of my slit and leads like an arrow to my clitoris. I pull the skin back to show off my nub, before pushing my hands further down across my lips and into my thighs. The sensation that bolts back through my body is enough to make me gasp, and I have to take my hands away quickly before it becomes too difficult to leave my pussy alone. I turn, bend over slightly and look at myself over my shoulder, before dropping to my knees to do the same, this time with my legs spread.

I imagine Logan behind me and Carter in front, before switching them over in my mind, both of their huge swollen dicks parting my lips and pushing past my tight little teenage pussy muscles and deep into my hole. The idea makes my skin fizz excitedly and my stomach turn over itself. Like this would be perfect to begin, before the hundred and one other positions I’ve imagined myself fucking in.

I may look like butter wouldn’t melt in my mouth but I’ve got one hell of an imagination, and I’m not afraid to use it. Just before I gather myself and get up, I spread my sex wide just to see my pink little hole. I’m as wet and sticky as I have ever been, even hornier perhaps that tonight could well be the night I lose my virginity.

I bet Mom and Dad didn’t consider this when they punished me for the gardener and I bet the gardener is kicking himself he’s going to miss out.

Not many men get to deflower an eighteen-year-old girl, and even fewer an eighteen-year-old princess.

Carter

I can’t wait to see the look on her face when I call her out. Princess Marissa, the teenage temptress of Ceylon. She could have picked a country that still exists for a cover story, or something a little bit more believable, like being a catwalk model or a porn actress. She certainly has the potential, and I know it would have worked equally well on Logan. The thing is, I’m way too experienced for it to work on me.

When I get there, as pretty a girl as she is, and unless she can convince me otherwise, which I’m almost a hundred percent sure she won’t be able to, I’m going to say my piece, make sure the whole thing is loud enough to be caught on whatever hidden microphone or camera she’s brought along, hope the whole scene is being televised live somewhere and then get out of there and get back home.

I’ve had enough bad experiences with women to last a lifetime, and it’s always the prettiest ones that are inevitably the most dangerous. If she makes my dick twitch like I’m eighteen again, my head knows I better step away quickly. Nothing in life is as easy as she’s making out, and princesses don’t fall into people’s laps unless they want something for it.

That doesn’t stop me dressing up, and it doesn’t stop me hoping I’m wrong either. If Marissa really is a princess of who knows where country in who knows what continent, and she is seriously looking for a man to show her what she hasn’t yet experienced, I’m clearly the right person to step up and do that for her.

Had Logan somehow managed to catch that dancing ball out of the air and taken it all the way to the end of the field, and he was on the way to the restaurant now and not me, that poor girl wouldn’t get half of what she could. I expect Logan fucks like a dog chasing after a ball - mouth wide open, eyes fixed on something in the distance, going full pelt until he can’t go anymore. The whole thing would probably last about two and a half minutes and I doubt he’d care if she even came. All of that is at the back of my mind, because even though she looked like she wanted to drop to her knees and pull both of us out right there in the tunnel in front of everyone else, looks can definitely be misleading.

I’d put her in the dirty as hell in the bedroom, clean as you like out of it category, which means even though she wants it, and she saw me seeing that look in her, it might take a bit of convincing to put the play into action. Until I find out otherwise, what I’m pretty sure I’m dealing with here is a cock-tease journalist playing a role to get a story and not a cock-tease princess showing me all of her cards at once.

From where the car drops me off, to the entrance of the restaurant, which seems to be in the belly of a hotel I haven’t stayed in before, I have to walk a handful of meters. I’m barely out of the car before someone recognizes me and wants to snap a selfie. I’m polite and stand there like a chump to let him take it before someone else comes along and does the same.

Those four or five meters to the door of the restaurant take almost fifteen minutes, and by the time I get in I remember why I usually try and stay away from the center of town.

“Do you have a reservation?” The Maitre d’ asks me.

“I’m here with Marissa, pretty girl, small, plaits, I didn’t catch her last name”, I say. “I’m Carter Kane, if she mentioned me.”

It’s clear the Maitre d’ doesn’t recognize me, but he does seem to recognize the name. “Marissa Knight”, he says. “Please come with me.”

The place is huge, maybe spread out across the entire footprint of the hotel which spans an entire block. There are sculptures that look like they belong in art galleries, a central waterfall that dominates much of the middle of one of the dining rooms and a mix of celebrities and nobodies all trying to mind their own business.

We wind through it all to the large circular table where Marissa is sat like a queen in waiting, her hair done up in a different style to the one I saw her in last week - although equally as intricate - and expensive but casual clothes, neither a princess or a journalist would normally wear.

She looks stunning. A dash of makeup but not too much, a slight perfumed scent when I reach in and give her a kiss, a huge genuine smile across her face that creases up her button nose when she gives it, and if life experience hadn’t made me skeptical I’d say she was a little bit nervous.

“Carter Kane”, she says, eyeing me seductively.

“Marissa Knight, princess of Ceylon”, I say, eyeing her suspiciously.

“Logan O’Connor, wide receiver of the Patriots”, I hear in my ear, before a hand drops down on my shoulder.

I turn quickly to see Logan standing there, dressed up in an expensive suit that looks a little too big for him, a huge smile across his face and an energy about him that could do with tranquilizing.

“Logan, what the fuck are you doing here?” I say, genuinely surprised.

Logan drops his jacket on a chair and gets into it as though it’s always been his. “Nice place, huh?” he says casually.

I’m stunned. “Is this a joke?” I say to Marissa. “Some kind of setup?”

“She said you’d say that”, Logan says, holding a breadstick like a cigar.

“No joke”, Marissa says. “It just didn’t seem fair that one of you had to lose.”

“Sit down, buddy”, Logan says. “You don’t need to feel bad. You are the official winner after all.”

I’m still too stunned to move. “Seriously?” I say.

“Come on, don’t be a jerk about it. I’ll let you pick up the tab if you like”, Logan says.

“You’re an idiot”, I tell him. “You think this is for real?”

Marissa and Logan look at each other and then back up to me. “You are way less trusting than you used to be”, Logan says.

“Do you really believe this girl is a princess?” I say, shocked he can’t see through the scam and a little concerned he’s not more worried we are both here.

“Yes”, Logan says without consideration. “I’ve seen the proof.”

“What proof?” I ask.

“Sit down, Carter”, Marissa says. “Please, just for a moment.”

I take a chair and sit down, happy to hear an explanation, and even happier to be proven wrong. Logan winks at me from the other side of the table and it makes me want to stay here long enough to beat him to this girl if she is for real.

“My parents are the King and Queen of Ceylon, it was a British territory until before my parents were born, and is now known as Sri Lanka. Officially Ceylon doesn’t exist anymore, unofficially it still has a royal family, and I’m one of the princesses.”

I look at Logan and he nods excitedly at me. Marissa continues.

“I was brought here by my parents so they could find me a husband, but the man they want to set me up with is hideous. He’s rich, which is why my parents want me to marry him, but he’s not my kind of man.”

“So that’s why we’re here?” I say.

“I’m just having a bit of fun while I can”, Marissa says. “My parents don’t know I’m here. They think I’m at my hotel watching reruns of some boring TV show.”

“Clever, huh?” Logan says.

I’m still skeptical, but the more she talks, the more convincing she sounds.

“You’re really a princess?” I ask. “A real genuine blue blood royal family princess.”

Marissa nods, while her eyes fall to the table briefly. She looks a little bit embarrassed.

“A princess with a dirty mind”, Logan says.

“Logan”, I remonstrate.

“What, come on? I know you all know it’s true”, he says back.

Marissa’s cheeks go a little red. “I know I want it to be true”, Logan adds.

“Here, look”, she says, perhaps noting that I’m a little bit wary still. “This is me with my family outside our house in Colombo.”

She shows me the photo on her cell and then scrolls to a few others. The bedroom, the gardens, the throne room. “I can show you the Wikipedia article if you like?”

“No”, I say, stunned again, but in a different way. “You don’t need to do that.”

Logan winks at me again. “Told you”, he says.

“Would you quit winking at me”, I say. “It’s kind of weird. What are you doing here anyway, shouldn’t you be in some dirty club at the other end of town. Kings or Christie's?”

“Hard Top”, Logan says, pointing at me, his mouth full of bread. “That’s where everyone hangs out now.”

“Then why aren’t you there?” I say. “Instead of ruining our date.”

“Our date”, Logan says, his hand circling the table to encompass us all. “If you’re not cool with that-.”

I look at Marissa and she shrugs innocently. “A dirty mind, I guess”, she says, her eyes flitting greedily between the two of us.

Logan looks at me challengingly, and after a Mexican standoff of glances between the three of us, I surprise myself with a laugh.

“You know”, I say. “I thought this could have gone a hundred different ways tonight, but I would never have imagined this one in a million years.”

Logan’s face lights up. “There it is”, he says. “There’s the old Carter Kane. Come in for a high five buddy.”

His hand shoots into the air like a fifteen-year-old at a rock concert. I stare at it as though I have no idea what it might represent.

“Come on, you can’t leave me hanging.”

“Yes I can”, I say. “What you are doing is disrespectful.”

“Leaving a man hanging is disrespectful. You better get me later on”, Logan says, dropping his hand back to the table.

I turn to Marissa again, this new information making me think a little more prominently about what might be on offer here, and whether whatever it is includes Logan too. “So”, I say. “Is this a competition between us or what?”

“Not exactly”, Marissa says.

“Think of it like a partnership”, Logan is excited to add. “Like how a quarterback and a wide receiver share the ball.” His eyes go to her. “Right, Marissa?”

“Let’s just see where the evening takes us”, Marissa says. “No pressure.”

Logan leans over the table slightly to direct his comment at me. “Everyone knows the wide receiver is the one that gets the ball into the end zone, but he can’t do it without the quarterback if you know what I mean? And the quarterback, he’s useless if he hasn’t got anyone to throw to.”

If I understand this correctly, what Logan seems to be getting at is that if either of us wants anything at all here, it’s both of us or nothing. How he’s managed to deduce that in five minutes of conversation, or however long he’s been here already, I have no idea. Unless they’ve already been seeing each other and have decided they want me into the mix as well.

I haven’t got anything against threesomes at all, and I suppose if it’s double or nothing and Logan O’Connor’s my partner, it kind of works in my favor. He’ll be done in less than a few minutes which will leave me plenty of time to show Marissa how it really should be done in the first place.

That’s getting a little ahead of myself, though, because right now we are still strangers around a table together despite what Marissa’s body language is shouting she wants.

“Have you done this before?” I ask her, not being specific about what I’m referring to.

Marissa shakes her head. “Not for real, I haven’t”, she says. “That doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about it enough times, though.”

“You aren’t worried about going on a date with two men at once, where that might lead?” I say. “Especially with the reputation this guy has?”

“My reputation is nothing like the one you used to have.”

“Used to have”, I say. “And that was only because I was setup.”

“A hundred times with a hundred different women”, Logan says, trying not to laugh. “Your little black book must be as thick as a telephone directory.”

“Says the man who concentrates more on his dick that he does his sport.”

“Guys?” Marissa says, cutting in. “Do you want to order food or do you want to take this outside?”

“Sorry”, Logan says. “The food definitely. And I’m not that bad, I promise.”

Marissa turns towards me. “Carter?”

“Sure”, I say. “Logan might need the energy.”

“This is a date”, Marissa reminds us. “Which means if you have any idea about taking me to bed, tucking me in and giving me a goodnight kiss, you’re going to have to do your best to woo me first. That goes for both of you, okay?”

“You are turning me on with your words as well as everything else”, Logan says.

“Behave yourself and I might let you kiss me too”, Marissa says.

“Not if I have anything to do with that”, I say.

“So let’s eat”, Logan says, ignoring me. “I’m absolutely starving.”

Logan

This is awesome. Just seeing the look on Carter’s face when he realized I was here too makes this night worthwhile already. What an uptight dick that guy has turned into, thinking that Marissa was here to punk us, refusing my high five, ordering the house wine instead of the most expensive. If this ends up where I hope it’s going to end up, it’s going to do a world of good to Carter’s personality.

I’m touched he’s concerned about me messing up my career, and genuinely flattered he thinks I have the potential to become one of the best football players of all time, and he doesn’t have a bigger fan in or out of the game than me, which is why I hate to see him so serious all the time.

He’s loosened up since the beginning of this weird threesome date, but he’s still got a long way to go before he’s back to where he was. I guess women can do that to you, especially ones you think you’ve fallen in love with who turn out to be callow, blood sucking wenches, only in it to sap you of every good thing you once used to have. But all that was in the past for him and a long time ago and it has nothing to do with the delightful girl wedged in between us right now.

I’m not overstating his reputation either, even though he thinks I am. Carter Kane used to go through women like he does forward lines.

Marissa is nothing like the women Carter has become so scared of, though. This woman, barely out of her teens, is an absolute gem. I could do nothing but stare at her from across the table and be happy, which, to be honest, is pretty much all I’ve been doing all night.

Carter can take care of the conversation, I’ll take care of the flirtatious body language, and together Marissa can make us all a team. I’ve always wanted to pair up with Carter as well, I just never thought it would be quite like this. Getting his dick sucked by this incredible specimen of humankind ought to be enough to mellow him out, which is why making sure she lets us take her to bed tonight is absolutely essential for our shared well-being.

I’ve been thinking about this girl since I first laid eyes on her, so, as you can imagine, I’m chomping at the bit to show her exactly what I think she’s asking for. I reckon Carter’s been thinking the same too, even though he’s playing his cards close to his chest and acting all civil and subtle.

Carter actually seems to think he’s on a proper date, which has made me giggle constantly all evening. He’s minding his language, is careful not to overtly express his intentions and seems to be acting like his life depends on it.

It’s hilarious, but I can totally understand it, because Marissa is absolutely priceless. Eighteen years old, a virgin by all accounts, hot as hell and as dirty as a dutch oven, she has fuck me written all over her, and if Carter can’t work that out, he’s totally lost his touch.

The other thing, which is totally scary and absolutely ball-explodingly exciting at the same time, even though I’ve only been in her company for an hour or so, is that I think I’m falling in love. Yes, Logan O’Connor isn’t shy with his emotions, and yes I’m quick to feel it, but right now, I’m absolutely charmed by this girl and we haven’t even made it to stage two yet. Talk about insta-love. That’s the kind of crazy shit you see in films or Carter reads about it classic romance novels.

I can only imagine that if Carter doesn’t fuck this up for both of us by pretending to be utterly sophisticated and nothing like he really is, by the very end of the night I’m not going to want to let her out of my sight.

We drink, we eat, we joke around with each other, and the conversation flows perfectly between all three of us. I tease Carter and I flirt with Marissa, and because he’s obviously a fan of my style, Carter does the same in return, copycatting me to get approval from our princess.

When the plates get cleared away after dessert, and the meal seems to be moving towards that magical moment when decisions start to get made, I get the sensation we are all thinking about the same thing, but are waiting for someone else to say it.

I move my eyes from Marissa to Carter and back again, while the silence of sexual tension descends upon us. Marissa giggles flirtatiously, while Carter taps the bottom of his teaspoon on the table, his eyes doing little to hide what are clearly filthy thoughts.

“So”, Carter begins, before hesitating back into silence.

Fuck it, I think. Too much pretense is never a good thing. “Your place, Carter’s place or mine?” I say, pointing at each of them in turn with a spoon.

Carter and I flash our eyes quickly to Marissa, where the silence persists a little bit longer than is comfortable. Carter shifts in his seat as I wait on the edge of mine for a response.

“Whichever one is closer”, Marissa says, smiling broadly. “As long as we are all there, I’m happy.”