Bad Boy Billionaires #3 - The Vegas Shark(17)

Treston covered his mouth with both hands and stopped breathing for a second.

Chad laughed and said, "It's probably just the house settling, pussycat. Big new houses like this make all kinds of noises."

"You're probably right, sweetie-pie," Dare said. "You're always right about everything."

Treston looked up at the dark ceiling and shook his head, then took a deep breath and exhaled slowly so they wouldn't hear him. He sat dead still on a suitcase, terrified to blink too fast, praying this wouldn't take long. He thought about taking a nap, but he might start snoring and knew he couldn't take that chance.

To both his absolute relief and utter disdain, Treston soon discovered he didn't have to be as quiet as he'd originally portended. When Chad and Dare started screwing around-it couldn't be called making love-Dare started to say things that twisted Treston's stomach into fifty different knots. The little blond pussycat didn't just talk dirty-he got into some of the filthiest, raunchiest sex talk Treston had ever heard or would hear in the future.

Though Chad was obviously the top man in bed, Dare gave the orders. Within moments after Chad had left the closet Dare started saying things like, "Get up here and give me some of that big fat dirty man-dick, sweetie-pie. I want you to shove that fucking man-meat all the way up my tight little man-pussy and breed me like a come dump until I can't fucking walk."




 

 

And that was only the lighter brand of sex talk. The rest was so depraved, and so outrageous at the same time, Treston found it amusing after the initial shock wore off. At one point, when Dare's voice went deeper and he said, "Fuck my tight little pussy with your big dirty dick and bang me like the little come-pig, fuck-whore I am, you big stud-fucker," Treston had to cover his mouth with both hands to keep from laughing aloud. He couldn't have made this shit up if he'd tried. He'd heard plenty of dirty talk in his time, so it wasn't a shock to hear people talking in bed. It was the nature, and the desperate tone, of Dare's words he found so entertaining.

Chad never said a word. The only voice that rang through the dark bedroom was Dare's, and each time he said something different, it turned out to be even more ridiculous than the time before. Treston's eyes started to tear up from laughter when Dare said, "Yes, you big fucking dirty studly fucker. Fuck my pink rosebud pussy harder. Fucking bang my tight little cunt and give me your fucking seed. I'm a whore, I'm a slut, fuck me with your dirty come-filled ram rod, you big horny stud." At one point Treston doubled over in pain when Dare screamed, "Oh, daddy, fuck me. Yes, daddy, fuck me with the big weeping cock like the pig that I am. I'm your come-pig and I want your fucking nasty load in my tight little pussy. Oh, breed me, daddy, fucking breed my tight little pussy."

Through all this vulgar screaming and bizarre one-sided sex banter, Treston wondered what Chad thought about all this. When he'd been with Chad an hour earlier, they'd laughed, joked around, and treated each other with unspoken natural affection. But there was no laughing with potty mouth Dare during their sex--Treston's own private amusement didn't count. There was nothing romantic or tender about it and this made Treston wonder if Chad liked all this silly dirty talk during sex. With some men it was hard to tell. They would pretend they didn't like it but the moment they heard it they got so excited you could see their chests heaving. And it was usually the biggest assholes who liked that kind of thing the most.

Treston had once met a dark scruffy man with tattoos whom he'd been attracted to. He'd even thought, for an instant, he could fall in love with this man. Treston had just been dumped by someone and he'd been sitting alone in a small bar sipping a vodka tonic. They guy seemed to come from nowhere and he had large hands and a deep swarthy voice. He said he lived in a big house in Los Angeles and he was in Vegas for the weekend. But when the guy pulled Treston's pants off in the backseat of his car a few minutes later and asked, "Do you wanna be my dirty, nasty little come pig?" Treston's eyes grew wide and he said, "I left my cigarettes on the bar." Then he put on his pants, jumped over the seat, and said, "I'll be right back." He didn't smoke, and he didn't go back to the bar. He ducked into the entrance, waited for a moment near the door, then slipped out and walked away as fast as he could. He never saw the guy again. It wans't that he thought there was anything wrong with dirty talk in bed. He wasn't judging anyone either. But he thought it had to be done a certain way, and if it wasn't, it could be either creepy or hysterical. With the guy he'd met at the bar it felt creepy; with Dare and Chad it sounded hysterical. 

At least the sex between Chad and Dare didn't last long. From what Treston could gather, there wasn't any foreplay at all. He doubted they kissed once. How could they with Dare screaming all those asinine obscenities? It also sounded as though Chad's job description in bed consisted of stud services. When Dare reached the point of climax and shouted, "Ah yes, give me that fat dirty cock, stud-man, because your little pussycat is coming … deeper, fucking breed my pussy," and Treston could hear Chad's pelvis slapping into Dare's ass. It all ended with Dare howling so hard it caused a chill to run up Treston's spine. For a moment, he thought Dare's screaming had transitioned into a yodel. But it was too high-pitched for that. If Treston had heard this sound coming toward him in the distance on a dark night, he would have thought an animal had been hit by a car. The last time he'd heard anything so obnoxious, had been when a feral cat had been run over in front of his apartment complex. The cops came and had to put the poor cat out of its misery with a revolver.

After they came, Dare did something that made Treston flinch. First he said, "That was fucking hot, sweetie-pie. You're the only stud who can do things like that to me." The room went silent for a moment while Chad was either whispering something or gesturing. Then Dare asked, "Was it as good for you, sweetie-pie? Tell me how much you love to fuck my tight man-pussy."

Treston wondered what kind of idiot would ask a question like that, and then he leaned into the cracked door to hear how Chad would answer. After a moment of silence, Chad said, "Ah, well, it was very nice, pussycat," then climbed out of bed and went into the bathroom.

Five or ten minutes later-Treston had lost track of time by then-Chad slipped into the closet again and found him sitting on the suitcase. "I think it's safe now. He's sleeping." He'd put on his black sweatpants again and his sandy blond hair was all messed up on top.

Treston flung him a look. "He's sleeping already?" After Chad came out of the bathroom he didn't hear Dare get up to go next. He wondered what kind of bottom had sex and didn't clean up afterward. He liked to at least brush his teeth and wipe the lube out of his ass with that clichéd soapy warm rag. Evidently, Dare's tight little man-pussy wasn't the cleanest one in town.

Chad shrugged. "He's completely out for the night. He's a very sound sleeper, especially after a good pounding."

Treston didn't smile. He reached for his backpack and stood up. "Good, because I'm tired and I want to go home. I just hope I don't have nightmares after what I just heard."

Chad's face tightened. "You were listening?"

"You left the door open, asshat," Treston said. "I couldn't help it."

Chad frowned. "Dare is a little vocal in bed."

"I'll say."

Chad smiled and handed him a photo. "I signed it and dated it for you."

Treston took the photo and gaped at it for a moment. It was one of those black-and-white head shots actors have mass-produced to hand out to fans. This one had to be at least fifteen years old, back when Chad still had identical dimples on both sides of his face instead of the sexy middle-aged creases he had now. Treston kissed him on the cheek and spoke in a flat deadpan tone. "I'll frame it, cherish it forever, and hang it over my bed, studly."




 

 

Chad laughed. "I knew you'd say something like that. I gave it to you on purpose. I wasn't really serious and don't feel obligated to take it."

"You did not," Treston said. "You're only saying that now because I made a snide comment. You thought I'd be thrilled you'd given me a personally autographed photo. You expected me to be falling all over you and thanking you, just like all your other groupies."

"You're wrong again," Chad said. "I'm not that much of an asshole."

Treston turned and stepped toward the door. "Well, I guess I'll never really know for sure, because I'm going home." He opened the door slowly, keeping the squeaking noise as low as he could. "I've had enough fun and games for one night. Have a nice life." But he didn't hand the photo back to Chad.

As Treston tip-toed out of the bedroom and down the grand front staircase, he heard Chad following him in his bare feet. When they reached the main hall on the first floor, the old man in the white coat was holding the front door open for Treston and he saw the long black limo waiting outside in the driveway with the back door open. He crossed through the open doorway and nodded at the older man without giving Chad a backward glance. He told himself if he just kept walking forward and didn't turn around he could get out of there without emotional scars.

But when he reached the steps that led to the driveway, Chad grabbed him by the arm and turned him around. "That's it? I don't even get a kiss goodbye? I thought we had fun tonight."