The beep of her pager was a live wire against her hip. Rich. A shiver of pure anticipation ran through Erica. She’d been waiting for this all day, the mundane tasks of her supermarket shift fading into a dull hum compared to the electric promise of his summons.

She moved with practiced efficiency in her small apartment. A quick, hot shower, the water slicing away the smell of cardboard and perspiration. Then, the careful ritual he demanded: the razor gliding over her smooth skin until her pussy was perfectly bare. She dabbed the perfume that he liked behind her ears, between her breasts. Finally, the new skirt from Ross’s, a short, flirty thing that clung to her hips and swished around her thighs, the silky fabric a whisper against her bare skin. No panties. Never panties for him.

She took a steadying breath, the perfume mixing with her own rising arousal, and walked downstairs.

Her knuckles had barely brushed the wood of his door when it swung open. But it wasn’t Rich. A stranger stood there, taller, broader, with the same darkly intense eyes but framed by a more boyish, muscular handsomeness. He looked her up and down with an appreciative gaze that was both startling and, she had to admit, thrilling.

“Can I help you?” he asked, his voice a deeper baritone than Rich’s.

“I’m… I’m here for Rich,” she managed, her confidence wobbling for just a second.

“Mike. His brother.” He stepped aside, a polite gesture that felt loaded. “Come on in. He’ll be right out.”

She obeyed, the familiar space feeling suddenly foreign. Mike gestured to the couch. “Can I get you a drink?”

“Yes, please.” She sat, her skirt riding up her thighs, aware of every inch of exposed skin. She accepted the glass of whiskey he offered, the amber liquid doing little to calm her nerves. The ice clinked, a tiny, nervous sound in the thick silence.

Then Rich appeared from the bedroom, a predatory smirk playing on his lips. His eyes traveled over her, a slow, possessive inventory that made her skin flush. He noticed the skirt. He saw her, really saw her, and approved.

“Erica, this is my brother Mike,” Rich said, his voice a low purr. “Mike, this is Erica. The tenant I was telling you about.”

Mike nodded, his eyes lingering on the deep V of her top. Rich stepped closer, his presence dominating the room. “We were just talking about our… arrangement. I’ve got a new proposition for you, Erica. I’ll cover next month’s rent, in full, if you give my brother a blowjob instead of me tonight.”

The air left her lungs. Her eyes darted from Rich’s challenging stare to Mike’s surprised, then intensely interested, face. The financial worry that had been a constant, dull ache evaporated, replaced by a surge of pure, illicit heat. This was a new ledge to step off, a deeper plunge into the world he was building for her. A smile touched her lips, a genuine one of eager excitement.

“Yes,” she breathed, the word barely audible.

She downed the rest of her drink, the whiskey burning a confident path down her throat. She stood, the silky skirt whispering its promise, and walked to where Mike sat. She didn’t hesitate. Leaning down, she captured his mouth in a deep, searching kiss. He tasted of whiskey and mint. Her hand found the hard ridge of his cock through his jeans and she rubbed it firmly, feeling it swell under her palm. So big already.

She straightened up, turning to give him a full view of her ass molded by the thin fabric. Slowly, sensually, she slipped the straps of her top from her shoulders. The garment fluttered to the floor. She was naked from the waist up, her full, heavy breasts on display. Mike groaned, a low, hungry sound, and leaned forward to bury his face between them, his mouth finding a nipple and sucking hard. Oh god. Her head fell back, a deep, throaty moan escaping her as he lavished attention on one breast, then the other, his teeth grazing the sensitive peaks.

His hand slid up her inner thigh, his fingers seeking the heat he knew was there. When his fingertips brushed her bare, wet folds, she gasped, her hips jerking forward. But as his finger pressed to enter her, she found her voice. “No,” she panted, pulling back slightly. “My pussy… my pussy is for Rich.”

A dark, pleased chuckle came from behind her. She could feel Rich’s presence, watching, approving.

She sank to her knees between Mike’s spread legs, her fingers making quick work of his belt and zipper. She tugged his jeans and boxers down. His cock sprang free, thick and heavy and impossibly long. So much bigger than Rich’s. The sight sent a fresh flood of warmth between her own legs. She leaned in, her dark hair falling around her face, and kissed the swollen, velvet-soft head. She tasted his pre-cum, a salty preview. Then she opened her mouth and took him in.

Mike’s groan was one of pure, unadulterated bliss. “Fuck,” he rasped, his hands coming to rest gently on her head. She started slow, savoring the weight and girth of him on her tongue, tracing the thick vein with its tip. Then she took him deeper, her throat relaxing to accommodate his size. She established a rhythm, her head bobbing, her hand working the base of his shaft in time with her mouth.

That’s when she felt Rich behind her. The rustle of his clothes. Then, the hot, familiar press of his bare, rock-hard cock against her. He nudged her legs wider apart with his knee. The slick head of his dick slid through her drenched folds, not entering, just teasing, painting himself with her arousal. She moaned around Mike’s cock, the vibrations making him thrust upwards.

Then Rich pushed. Not slowly, not gently. He filled her in one smooth, devastating thrust that stole her breath. Her cry was muffled by the cock in her mouth. He didn’t wait, setting a brutal, piston-like pace, fucking her from behind as she continued to servile his brother. Each deep, driving plunge from Rich shoved her face further onto Mike’s length. She could feel both of them, one stretching her mouth, the other pounding her pussy, a perfect, filthy rhythm.

She reached up, wrapping her hand around the base of Mike’s shaft, stroking him in time with her sucks and Rich’s thrusts. She was the connection between them, the conduit of their pleasure. Mike’s breathing became ragged, his hips bucking uncontrollably. “I’m gonna… I’m gonna come,” he warned, his voice strangled.

She just took him deeper, urging him on. With a guttural shout, his climax hit. Hot, pulsing jets of cum flooded her mouth, shot after salty-sweet shot. She swallowed desperately, milking him with her throat and hand until he was spent and softening.

The moment Mike was done, Rich’s voice cut through the heavy air, sharp and commanding. “Get the fuck out. Now.”

Mike, dazed and satisfied, quickly pulled his clothes together and left without a word, the door clicking shut behind him.

The second they were alone, something in Rich snapped. The show was over; now it was just for them. A possessive, animalistic energy took hold of him. He gripped her hips tighter, his fingers digging into her flesh, and began fucking her with a renewed, almost savage intensity. The force of it drove her forward, her palms slapping against the floor.

“That’s my pussy,” he growled, each word a punctuation to his thrusts. “You take my cock so fucking good. You like being my good little fuck? My good little whore?”

“Yes! Yes, Rich!” she screamed, her own orgasm building, a tsunami held back only by the overwhelming sensory overload.

He plunged into her one last time, burying himself to the hilt, and roared as his release tore through him. She felt the hot, familiar flood, the pulsing rhythm of his cum filling her, and it was the final trigger. Her body seized, clenching around him in violent, exquisite waves, a silent scream on her lips as pleasure short-circuited her thoughts. So full… so owned…

They stayed like that for a long moment, connected, panting, dripping with sweat. Slowly, he pulled out of her, his cum trickling down her thigh. She collapsed onto the rug, boneless and utterly spent.

She heard him move, then his shadow fell over her. He was already hard again, his erection prodding at her side. He rolled her onto her back, his dark eyes blazing with a feral light. He looked down at her ravaged body, her glistening pussy, his own cum on her skin.

“We’re not nearly done,” he stated, his voice rough and dark with promise. "Get on the table. Now."