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And the best thing about dating two guys? At least one of them is almost always down to fuck.
“Protein shake, Kara?” Eric says, jogging down the stairs from the kitchen with a bottle of Protein Plus in one hand and a frosted glass in the other.
“Fancy,” I say. Chase’s hands start working my lower back, and I can already feel all the tension dissolving into thin air. “What flavor is this one?”
Eric holds the bottle in front of my face, and I have to stare at it for a full minute to be sure of what I just read.
“Tropical Man-goo?” I say, dripping with disbelief. “Oh my god—who names these fucking things?”
“We did,” Chase says. “That one was my favorite!”
I giggle as he smacks my ass?and then moan as he digs his fingers into a knot my muscles have formed into just to the side of my spine. It hurts so good—and not just because my boyfriends are the worst product namers of all time.
“It’s like you want women to know that these are full of cum,” I laugh, watching Eric pour the shake into a glass for me.
“I mean, it is right there on the label,” Eric says, shrugging as he hands me my treat.
“Bitches never read the right parts of the label,” Chase adds, shaking his head.
It’s been a month since my big win at Miss Sexy USA, and we’ve been training hard every day since. Even when I’m not working out, I’m practicing my speeches with Eric or getting massages from Chase.
I’ve practically moved into Eric’s Bel Air mansion at this point so we can maximize the amount of time I can put into training…well, and so I can be around for him to fuck any time either of us wants. Chase sleeps over most nights, too, which makes me glad Eric has such a huge fucking bed.
I can’t even count the number of nights since the pageant that I’ve fallen asleep between the two of them. Two warm, muscular beefcakes—one on either side of me. With Chase and Eric around, I’m a proper Kara sandwich—not that I mind.
The only thing that I miss a little bit is my apartment with Holly-Anne and Lucy. We video chat all the time, but it’s not quite enough to make me stop missing them. Plus, I’m pretty sure Holly-Anne keeps feeding Lucy pizza—she’s making my cat a little tubster while I’m away, and I know that when this pageant is over, it will be Lucy’s time to go on a diet of her own.
Speaking of dieting—I’ve never eaten better than this in my fucking life. Eric loves cooking healthy fucking food that’s totally to die for. I’m starting to not feel guilty about consuming calories again—which is awesome, because we burn off a whole fuckload during our workouts.
I’ve perfected the blowjob push-up, the anal sex pull-up, deep throat sit-ups, and, of course, squatting on my gorgeous boyfriends’ dicks. It’s just like they promised, too: I’m gaining muscle, but I couldn’t look any less like a man.
Some combination of their protein shakes, these workouts, healthier eating habits, and a lot of sex has my tits looking bigger and perkier than ever. My ass also looks peachier, and my skin looks clearer, my hair shinier. Fuck, I even think my teeth are looking whiter.
It’s a fucking dream come true, and none of it would be possible without these guys.
“I’m a really lucky woman,” I sigh, giving myself over to the pleasure of both their hands smoothing down my back. They’re taking turns laying little kisses down my spine as I relax naked on the massage table.
It feels so fucking good, I never want it to stop.
“We’re lucky men,” Eric counters. “How are your feet feeling?”
“Sore,” I laugh. “Chase and I did that 10k run while you were making dinner. I think I need new jogging shoes or something—these ones make my feet cramp.”
“Your body might just still be getting used to running,” Chase supplies while Eric moves to massage my arches in his big, strong hands. “You weren’t exactly a cardio queen before you met us. I can’t even imagine what you had to do to lose all that weight.”
“Starved, mostly,” I laugh. Not because it’s funny—but because it’s true.
I spent two miserable years denying myself all of life’s pleasures to get to the weight that I was when I met Chase and Eric. And now, I’ve spent three fucking months indulging in everything I could ever dream of, and I’m only getting hotter.
These fucking guys. They’re literally like magic—I can’t get enough of them.
“It’s good to see you eating better now,” Eric says, stroking my foot between his hands. “You’re too fucking pretty to be suffering, babe.”
“Unless you’re suffering around our cocks,” says Chase. “That’s the only way a hot little bitch like you ought to ever suffer.”
“I’m hardly suffering,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Or is there something about the phrase, Please, Chase, don’t stop, I’m coming! that sounds like suffering to you?”
“Careful, Kara,” Chase warns, sliding his fingers up my inner thigh toward my cunt. It immediately starts throbbing and aching for him—like I said, it’s gotten greedy after all the spoiling Chase and Eric to do it. “Or I might have to show you some fucking suffering…”
