Maddy Takes a Memo (BBW Billionaire Menage Erotica)
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After a long day Madeline Marcos just wants to go home, but when the elevator doors open to reveal Chet Taylor and Sam Lake, the rich, handsome co-founders of the company, Maddy finds herself swept up in their heated conversation. The two playboys are charmers, but Maddy has a bit of charm of her own, and as one thing leads to another, she finds herself the filling in a billionaire sandwich. More
Maddy Marcos certainly isn't the sort of girl the rich, handsome co-founders of her company would ever be interested in: she's curvy instead of slender, mouthy instead of classy, and prefers cheesecake to clubbing. Then a late night at the office puts Maddy in the path of Chet Taylor and Sam Lake, billionaire moguls of Embra Enterprises and best friends, and she finds the full force of their charm turned on her--to ask her to settle a marketing dispute. Maddy, however, knows an opportunity for a little bit of fun when she sees one.
Chet and Sam consider themselves consummate playboys, but Maddy isn't quite like any woman they've encountered, and before they know it they're all five drinks beyond tipsy and the windows of the limo grow steamy as Maddy volunteers to be the filling in a billionaire sandwich!
This 9,000 word short story contains one curvy girl, two sexy billionaires, hints of a first-time M/M encounter, and double-penetration in the back seat of a limo. MFM, some MMF.
The limo hit a bump and Maddy jerked awake to find herself leaning against Sam's chest. “Oh!” she gasped and drew back. “I'm so sorry.”
“You actually sound like you mean that,” Sam said.
In the dark, Maddy couldn't tell if he was serious or not. “Uh, why wouldn't I?” she asked him. “I mean it, if I drool on you I can't afford to buy you a new suit. I'd have to sell my car. Two cars. I'd have to clone my car and sell it twice.”
He didn't laugh at her joke. Instead, his hand left her shoulder and drifted up. For a moment she was confused, and then she felt his fingers running through her hair.
The air between them grew thick and she swallowed.
It's just your imagination, she thought.
Gently, Sam's blunt fingernails scratched against her scalp, and her skin dissolved into shivers.
“You're not really like other women,” he murmured.
Maddy smiled, but she was tired and she didn't feel like playing games. “You must be really drunk, because I'm like a lot of other girls.”
He shook his head. “No,” he said. “You really aren't.”
The limo bumped and they jostled together. Her hands came up, gripping his coat, her breasts pressing into his hard chest. In the dim light of the back seat, his brown eyes bored into hers, and the scent of sweat and aftershave filled her head. She was half-lying on top of him. Years of shame bubbled to the surface. She must be crushing him.
She started to pull away. “I'm sorry—” she began, and then he was kissing her.
For a second she was too stunned to do anything. Then instinct took over and she was parting her lips, her eyes slipping closed. His tongue stroked against hers and she whimpered into his mouth as his arms slid around her, his hands roaming over her body in a restless, hungry rhythm.
His lips broke from hers, tracing a voracious path down her throat, lingering over her pulse.
“Maddy,” he mumbled, and she felt her body respond to his ardent whisper.