Hot Bodies Boxed Set: The Complete Vital Signs Erotic Romance Trilogy (26 page)

What the hell was with this guy? Dr. Randall Hamm was a mystery wrapped inside of an enigma. Shirley’s jaw clenched as she realized that she couldn’t read this man at all. Nobody could. He was about as transparent as your average smokestack.

Shirley ground her teeth in frustration as she gathered her things to leave. She just needed to face facts. Dr. Randall Hamm would never be hers to possess. Hell, he’d never be
anyone’s
to possess. He apparently just wasn’t that kind of guy. He was a hot, sexy, mysterious, desirable—loner. Unattainable. Untouchable. In a word, forbidden.

And that just made Shirley want him all the more.

Damn it.

Shirley shifted back and forth on her feet, trying in vain to stifle the hot itch at her crotch.
Well, I suppose there’s always Ed
, she thought as she headed for the parking lot.

Eight

Shirley sat slumped in front of her television, watching the latest episode of
Celebrity Rehab
while munching on Triscuits straight from the box. Even though he was approaching fifty and not at all her type, she found herself fantasizing about Dr. Drew Pinsky while he consoled a relapsed B-movie-queen-turned-junkie as she puked her guts up into a wastebasket.

Fantasizing about sex about someone who was on late-night cable TV helping a junkie puke. Nice. She must be really, really horny to commit such a desperate act.

She sighed and reached into the box for another Triscuit—only to find that she’d scarfed down the whole box.

Well, I guess that’s dinner, then
, she thought. Pathetic. She really needed to get a life.

She really needed to get laid, too.

Shirley would have much preferred to have Dr. Randall Hamm in her bed tonight. But she was afraid Ed Main would have to do. She had itches to scratch, and she couldn’t afford to be choosy.

Then again, there was no guaranteeing that Ed would even be up for the job. She’d gotten the distinct feeling when he left her apartment this morning that last night was strictly a one-time-only, “wham-bam, thank you ma’am,” kind of thing. And as hot and young as he was, Shirley figured he was probably off banging someone else right now—probably someone younger and prettier than she was. Definitely someone who wasn’t stretched out in front of the TV in raggy sweats eating Triscuits.

Still, she figured there was always a chance—however slight—that her hot young neighbor wasn’t busy, and might be up for another romp with the sultry older woman from upstairs.

Don’t ask, don’t get
, Shirley reminded herself.
At least give it a shot.

But she couldn’t exactly give it a shot wearing the same raggy sweatpants she’d been sleeping in since college and a faded-out novelty T-shirt that read “I’m Going Nucking Futs.” Not exactly sexy, even if it was a pretty good description of how she felt right now.

She went to her room and rummaged through her closet, searching for something suitable for seduction. There weren’t a whole lot of choices, since her wardrobe consisted mostly of nursing scrubs, a few pairs of faded jeans and knit tops, and two dressy outfits for special occasions. The dressy outfits would be overkill for a trip downstairs, so she chose her tightest pair of jeans and a bright red knit top that clung to her curves like a leotard. She topped it off with a matching red silk headband that tamed her disheveled locks, and a smidgen of peachy lip gloss. Now all that was left was the right pair of shoes.

She tossed aside the sensible loafers and slip-on flats that had dominated her wardrobe for years. As a nurse who spent hours on her feet, Shirley had always concentrated on comfortable, practical footwear. But even she had a shoe fetish. Way back in the back of her closet were a pair of patent-leather stilettos that she hadn’t worn since she went on her first nooky run as a fresh-n-free single gal. On that hot, carefree spring evening, she had seduced a University of North Carolina fratboy almost half her age, and still managed to get to work in the morning. On that hot, carefree spring evening, she’d fucked a hot college boy wearing nothing but these stilettos, and their shiny patent-leather finish had gotten foggy from all the heat that encounter had created.

If that wasn’t a sign she should wear them again tonight, she didn’t know what was.

She slipped the stilettos on without bothering with stockings. It took all the balance and control she had to make it down the two narrow flights of stairs in those fuck-me shoes. She made it to Ed’s door, and was about to knock when it opened by itself.

A pert little blonde with huge breasts stood in the doorway. She wore polka-dotted bikini underwear, a skimpy crop-top—and nothing else.

“Um, Ed?” the pert little blonde called over her shoulder. “There’s somebody out here.”

Damn,
Shirley thought to herself.
Somebody already beat me to him.

Ed appeared in the doorway, wearing nothing but a pair of skintight black Jockeys. “Howdy, Shirley. C’mon in.”

Shirley froze in her tracks instead. “I—um, I don’t want to interrupt anything,” she stammered. “Why don’t I just go back upstairs? I didn’t really want anything important.” She bit her lip, searching for a plausible lie. “I just needed to—uhhh, borrow a cup of sugar.”

As if it were perfectly normal for women dressed in skintight jeans and stiletto heels to borrow cups of sugar at ten o’clock at night.

Ed’s eyebrows raised; the lie didn’t fool him for a minute. “It’s all right, Shirley, ya ain’t interruptin’ nothin’ nohow. If anything, yer jest in time to join in on some fun. Ain’t that right, Billie?” He winked at the pert little blonde, who giggled.

Ed pushed the door open wider and beckoned. Against her better judgment, Shirley teetered inside, her feet throbbing inside her stilettos. And her feet weren’t the only part of her that were throbbing now, either.

Ed swept the door closed behind her and fastened all three locks. Shirley’s violet eyes swept the room, took in its unusual furnishings. There was a low-slung platform sofa straight out of the 70s, strewn with fat red velvet cushions. There was a thick tufted angora rug on the floor, with soft pile almost four inches thick. A framed “LOVE” poster hung over the sofa in a gilded frame. The room was dotted with dozens of lighted candles, and the scent of sandalwood incense wafted towards her nostrils. Barry White’s deep, sexy voice purred from two huge stereo speakers mounted on the wall. A heart-shaped straw basket sat next to the thick, tufted rug, filled with bottles of sensual oils, massage implements, lubricant, a box of condoms.

Shirley had to stifle a gasp as she realized she’d just stepped into a sex chamber. Ed and his gal-pal Billie were obviously about to get it on together—so why had they been so quick to invite her inside?

Why, indeed.

Shirley was about to take part in her first threesome.

“Billie, why don’t ya go an’ pour us all some wine?” Ed asked, keeping his eyes fixed on Shirley the whole time. Billie nodded and disappeared into the kitchen. “Ya know Shirl—d’ye mind if I call ya Shirl?”

“Go right ahead.”

“Ya know Shirl, I’d just finished tellin’ Billie what a great fuck ya were last night, an’ how much I’d like to have ya join us tonight, but ya beat me to it. Billie was just ‘bout to head upstairs to yer apartment when ya just happened to show right up. Whatcha think ‘bout that?”

Shirley shrugged and sipped her wine. She was at a complete loss for words—this was uncharted territory.

“Well, I’ll tell ya what
I
think,” Ed went on. “I think it’s fate. We’re destined to be together, you an’ me. Not in some big real romantic way, with weddings an’ flowers or nuthin’ like that. Just in a hot sexy way. ‘Cause I think you are one hot sexy lady. Billie thinks so, too. Ain’t that right, Billie?”

Billie appeared, balancing three glasses of red wine on a tray. “Damn straight,” she quipped. Her voice was tinny and high-pitched, almost like a bird’s voice. “Any gal that Ed thinks is hot is hot in my book, too. Ed’s got real high standards.” She handed Shirley a glass of wine, then reached out and squeezed Shirley’s left breast, testing it like a melon. “Oooohh,” she cooed. “I ain’t never seen boobs that big that were
real
before!”

Guess that means yours aren’t, toots
, Shirley mused. But try as she might to dislike the girl, she just couldn’t bring herself to. She was sweet and bubbly and seemed genuinely thrilled that Shirley had joined their sexy little soiree. “We’re so lucky to have you, Shirley,” the younger woman gushed. “Ed and I have wanted to do something like this for months now.”

Months?
So apparently Billie wasn’t one of Ed’s one-night stands—as Shirley had obviously been the night before. Shirley didn’t know if that should make her feel cheap—or lucky.

In any case, Ed must have had a good enough time with her last night to come back for more.
Much
more.

Ed gazed at her lasciviously, undressing her with his eyes. She suddenly felt very exposed.

What exactly was she getting herself into? Should she cut and run now while she still had a chance? Or should she stay and see what it really meant to have a threesome? What was all the fuss about threesomes, anyway? Why were they considered so taboo?

And why did the very thought of having one turn Shirley’s crotch to cream?

There was only one way to find out.

“Let’s get this party started, gals,” Ed said. He gulped the last of his wine and tossed his wineglass in the fireplace, where it shattered. Then he stepped out of his Jockeys and tossed them across the room. They landed on the corner of the “LOVE” poster.

Shirley turned to stare at Ed’s huge, dripping cock—which seemed even bigger and thicker than she remembered from last night. She wanted to take it into her mouth, taste the familiar, musky-salty flavor of his precome, relish the feel of his cock and balls’ rough, wrinkled skin against her tongue, her cheeks, her hands, her neck.

But Billie had already beat her to it. While Shirley had been reminiscing about Ed’s flavors and textures, Billie had parked herself on her knees right in front Ed and had taken his whole thick, throbbing length into her mouth. Her pert little blonde head bobbed up and down, up and down while she sucked him. Ed had his head thrown back while he enjoyed the blowjob, thrusting his hips forward and back, forward and back while Billie matched his movements in perfect counterpoint. Ed grunted and groaned his pleasure, while Billie gave little squeals of her own as she realized just how much he liked what she was doing to him. Meanwhile, Billie slipped out of her panties and started touching herself, rubbing her clit and fingering her wet hole with one hand while she steadied herself against Ed’s body with the other. The two of them were so into each other, Shirley might as well have not even been there. And still. . .

Shirley stood frozen in her tracks, staring at the obscene display. She wasn’t even doing anything, but she was more turned on that she’d ever been in her entire life. Watching another woman give a man a blowjob was the hottest thing she’d ever seen. Watching another woman give a man a blowjob was practically enough to make her come all by itself.

Okay, so now she understood what all the fuss was about.

Threesomes weren’t so much about three people fucking as they were about one person
watching
two other people fuck.

Instinctively, Shirley’s hand strayed to the flybutton of her jeans. She unfastened the button and slid down the zipper. She stepped out of her stilettos and slid the jeans off, one leg at a time. The panties were next. As Shirley started sliding them off—their soaking-wet crotch leaving trails of moisture on her thighs on the way down—she glanced up to see that Ed was staring at her, watching her impromptu striptease. He licked his lips and smiled as she got the panties off. Her skintight top was next, followed by her bra. Her violet eyes locked with his blue ones, and a bolt of electricity jumped across their room in the space between their bodies, sizzling them both.

Never once breaking his thrusting rhythm into Billie’s mouth, Ed, beckoned Shirley to come and join them. And very very timidly, she did.

As she closed the distance between them, Ed suddenly let out a low moan. He reached down and gently pushed Billie off his cock. “Any more o’ that sweetness, hon, an’ it’ll be all over. Let’s take a breather, huh?” Billie smiled and nodded, then reached out to caress Shirley’s thigh.

“You’re so beautiful, Shirley,” the younger woman said. “I love your skin. It’s so soft and white. Like a magnolia. And you smell so good. I bet you taste good, too.”

Before Shirley knew what was happening, Billie pushed her backwards until she was lying flat on the soft angora rug. Billie pushed her legs apart, parked her pert little blonde head between them—and started eating Shirley’s pussy.

Shirley let out a little cry of surprise. It had been just last night that she’d had her pussy eaten, but Billie was doing such things to her down south that she might as well be a virgin. No sooner than Billie’s tongue hit her clit, Shirley came hard. Hard enough to shake her whole body into submission. Hard enough to make all four of her limbs thrash, hard enough to make her head and heart explode. Billie had all the same juicy wet parts that Shirley did, and boy howdy, did she know how to make them sing.

Ohhhhhhh.
Now Shirley understood why men liked to watch women fuck each other. Because it was hot, hot, hot.

Shirley involuntarily pulled her legs up and back and held onto her knees—making her cunt a wide-open flower in full bloom. Following her cue, Billie sunk her mouth and tongue in deeper, plunging into Shirley’s darkest, sweetest depths. The younger woman darted the tip of her tongue against Shirley’s clit in rapid-fire thrusts, alternating that sensuous treatment with some good-old-fashioned rubbing with her thumbs. When Billie wasn’t rubbing her hot button hard, she was finger-fucking her. Shirley moaned, groaned, screamed and cried. The sensations the younger woman evoked in her body were like nothing she had ever experienced.

And if that weren’t enough, Ed was going to town on her now, too. Ed started by tenderly nuzzling the delicate soft skin of her neck and torso, then worked in harder and deeper until he was sucking whole sections of her skin into his mouth, leaving behind a trail of purple love-bites. Shirley hadn’t had a hickey since she was in high school, when she wore them like badges of honor, showing them off to her friends in the school lunchroom. Now she wondered why she hadn’t kept that practice up.