The way she says it has me feeling more like a toy than a person. But then I remember the MaleOrder.com bullshit…and I recall how that’s exactly what I am right now.
“By all means.” I make a gesture to welcome them inside.
The smaller of the three walks in first, followed by her fellow Amazon warriors. I swear, each one of them could tell me they knew Wonder Woman and I’d believe them. One of them even looks like she could make Superman her bitch.
“Isn’t it a little late in the night?” I ask, scratching the back of my head. I’m still waking up. “Couldn’t you grab me in the morning or something?”
“No, we couldn’t, Mr. Ambrose. You see, we have a strict twenty-four-hour delivery guarantee policy. And we don’t disappoint our clients.”
“Oh, well, do I get to know who’s purchased me?”
I’m just hoping it isn’t someone like Betty White. Unless it was Betty White.
A man
has standards, naturally.
“No, you don’t.”
She gives me that look again, and I just smile and nod.
Damn, they’re intimidating. It’s kind of hot.
“Well, nothing wrong with a little mystery,” I reason.
“Indeed,” the small-ish one agrees.
The two larger ones walk around my place while the smaller one takes in more of my physique.
I can’t blame her.
I have the body of Adonis. Hell, Adonis himself probably would’ve wished he looked this good.
I grab the neck of my whiskey bottle and take a drink while the smaller one steps toward me.
I wonder now if this is where they tell me they’re the ones who bought me and that they’re literally going to eat me alive.
“Your pants. Remove them.”
An eyebrow raises in curiosity, and I fight back the urge to laugh. Her tone and her look tell me she isn’t playing around.
“No dinner and movie, first?”
The other two return and look at me with arms folded over their chests. None of them laugh…or crack a smile. They just stare at me like the prime cut T-bone that I am.
I take another swig of my whiskey, and set it down on my living room table.
My thumbs slide down under the elastic band of my pajamas. Admittedly, they’re not all that sexy, but fuck it. They’re pajamas.
I push them down over my hips and let them fall to my feet. I step out from the heap and put my hands on my hips.
I can see them look down at my cock, and fight the urge to react, just letting their eyes grow wide for themselves. Not that I blame them.
Even when I’m not hard, my uncut cock is thick and long. Like Subway-foot kind of long, though I’d like to think I cost more than just five dollars.
I resist the urge to swing my fucking cock around like a helicopter and decide to wear my most charming smile for them instead.
“So? Liking the angle of the dangle?”