When I stand up, I move over and watch Aaron do the same thing. “Have fun today, Lucky.” Then he gives her a kiss on the forehead, a kiss on the lips, and then one on the cunt. Jesus, we are going to fucking ruin her. The two of us are going to fuck her little body until she’s overflowing with cum and begging us to stop.
“Bye, baby,” I whisper, and blow her a kiss on the way out.
7
STELLA
I feel almost paralyzed as I lie in the middle of the massive bed. Both men departed the room like nothing is strange about any of this. They both seemed so casual and relaxed, as if them both kissing me like that, one after the other, was normal.
Justin said it wasn’t, but it all seems so easy for them. The norm, even. As if we’ve been doing this for months. That I wake up every day between two men hungrily eating at my body, touching me in ways I’d never been touched before. When I first started to wake, I thought it had all been a dream.
I’d had dreams about them before. Maybe not as delicious, but I’d had plenty of them. They seem to grow in intensity every time I see them. Now I lie here in their bed at a loss for words, my body still buzzing from what they did to it.
It seemed like they knew my own body better than even I did. When I would try to find relief at my own hand, I would always be left frustrated or unsatisfied by the orgasm I pulled from my body. They seemed to be able to get me there in seconds and give me an orgasm more powerful than I thought was possible. I’d always wondered what all the talk was about. Now I know.
Peeling myself from the bed, I make my way to the bathroom, but stop when I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Turning, I look at myself. For some reason I look different, or maybe it’s because I feel a little different. The Las Vegas sun pours through the windows, lighting up the entire room, and I just stand and stare at myself for a moment.
My long black hair looks wild and untamed, my lips swollen, even my nipples have little marks on them like they have been well used. I feel sexy. Like a part of me I didn’t know existed has woken up. Before I felt like my hips were too wide, my boobs too big. Now, looking at myself, I feel womanly. Something I’d never felt before. I feel desired. Sure I’d been hit on, but I never felt a compulsion to really explore. Now I want more. I can still feel their wetness and mine mixed together between my legs, dampening my thighs.
Maybe the next month won’t be as hard as I first thought it would be. If the Cortez brothers make me feel like that every morning this will probably be the best thirty days of my life. If I can keep my heart out of it.
That would be the real challenge. I already care more than I should. I was holding on too tightly when Justin had told me no other women had slept in their bed, and that the clothes were just for me.
Going to the bathroom, I can’t help but notice the set up. I’ve never in my life seen a three person sink. I can tell the middle one is for me. A pink toothbrush and hair brush sit next to it, the toothbrush still in the wrapping. Pulling my hair on top of my head, I jump into a shower that looks like it could fit ten of me. Normally I love to take baths, but the one in here looks like it might take forever to fill because of its giant size. It takes me a few moments to figure out all the knobs and buttons before I finally get the shower heads to come on.
I don’t know when this Mandy will be getting here so I make quick work of my shower and end up just doing my hair in a simple braid so I don’t have to worry about it.
I make my way to the closet that is bigger than my bedroom back home on the farm. Hell, this might even be bigger than the master bedroom. Half of the room is lined with suits, Justin’s and Aaron’s. It’s simple and clean. The other half of the room is lined with…my stuff, I guess. Part of it is lined with clothes—dresses, jeans, t-shirts, and nice dressy tops. When I start going through them, I notice everything is in my size. The other part of the room is lined with glass shelves stacked with shoes of all varieties, tons of purses to match all the clothes, and pieces of jewelry hang on little stands that are scattered on the glass shelves.
What. The. Fuck.
There are hundreds of thousands of dollars’ worth of clothes and accessories for me in here. I would have to change my outfit ten times a day to wear everything in the thirty days I am set to be here. To top it off, how did they know I was going to be here? Were they looking for a type and I just fit it? Did they go into the auction knowing they wanted a certain kind of woman and I just fit the bill? It made sense if that was so. They had been trying to get me to go out with them for weeks. They say men have a type. Or did they know I would be here?
I’m not sure how I feel about that. Vegas is a small big city. All the important players know each other, and the Mistress Auctions are for the elite. I have no clue who else was being auctioned or the details of how the auctions work. For all I know, Samantha sends out a portfolio before each auction and maybe they had seen me on it and thought it was their chance to finally get what they had been wanting.