Handsome and Greta (Seven Ways to Sin 3) - Page 40

In a matter of minutes, the six of us had torn the place apart. The room was turned completely upside down—furniture upended, drawers pulled from the dresser, their contents strewn about the floor. A set of kitchen knives were stuck randomly into the walls, holding up strips of an old sheet we’d shredded.

“The place looks like it’s been ransacked by maniacs,” said Dalton.

“By sex-crazed maniacs,” said Greta with a gleam in her eyes. “It’s perfect.”

While Greta set up the live stream, we huddled up and discussed what was surely on each of our minds. “We’re really going to go through with this?” I said.

“It’s a little late to object now,” said Erik.

“But we haven’t had any time to talk about it,” I said.

“No time to talk,” said Austin. “It’s time for action.”

Cameron put a hand on my shoulder. “We’re all friends here. And believe me when I tell you if something ever happens to you and you find yourself in a bind, I’ll strip down and have a weekend sex marathon to help you out. You can count on it.”

We all laughed, which had Greta jerk her head around to look at us. At first, she threw us a suspicious glance, but then she laughed too, though I doubted she’d heard the joke.

“Thank you, Cameron,” I said.

“Me too,” said Dalton. “I’d fuck a hot girl to get you out of jail. I bet Jake would as well.”

“But...”

“We should make a pact,” said Erik. “If any one of us ever finds himself in jail, for whatever reason, the rest of us will fuck a smoking hot chick to help out the cause. Agreed?”

He put his hand out, palm down, in the center of the huddle.

“Agreed,” said Austin, and he put his hand on top of Erik’s. The others followed suit. I was the last. All eyes turned to me with expectation.

“But,” I said, “we’re talking about Jake’s girl.”

“I don’t get the impression they’re an item,” said Cameron.

“She obviously cares about him,” I replied.

“And so do we,” said Austin. “And I know you do too.” With a nod, he motioned to the hands. “Either we all do it, or none of us do it.”

I looked at the faces in the huddle and saw eagerness and excitement. After all, we were about to have sex with a smoking hot chick. There simply wasn’t time to consider the implications. And to be honest, I was quite happy about that. I put my hand in the pile. “For Jake,” I said.

“For Jake, on three,” said Erik. “One, two, three.”

“For Jake,” we said in unison, raising our hands and breaking the huddle.

Greta was standing by the laptop. She smiled, but it seemed to me to be a bit forced. I could tell she was nervous. I couldn’t blame her. I was nervous, too.

“It’s all set up,” she said. “The show starts in ten minutes.”

It was Erik’s idea to start one by one. Each time a donation milestone was met, another would join in. It was Greta’s idea to be blindfolded and tied to the bed while the six of us made our individual case to the viewers as to which of us would ravish her first. The one with the highest donations would get things started.

Austin stepped up to the camera. “I’m big and black and ready to pound that ass.” He pulled off his shirt, scowled, and flexed.

Only six dollars in donations.

Erik pushed him aside and faced the camera. He pulled off his boxers and held his erect penis in his hand. “That slut is begging for some Swedish sausage.”

Five dollars in donations.

Gabriel, too, went with the full-out ‘hard dick in the hand’. He put on a Latino accent and said, “She needs a Latino cock in her mouth. And I’m listo. Hit that donate button. Vamos.”

Twenty dollars in donations.

Dalton stepped up. He took off his shirt, flexed, and grunted like an animal. It didn’t work. He had the muscles to flex and, at six foot four, he had an imposing physique, but he was simply too ‘pretty’ to pull off the savage animal thing. If he’d asked, I would have suggested he go with the ‘big and black’ thing as Austin had.

Four dollars in donations.

My turn. I wasn’t buff or black or Latino, but I got the sense from the comments coming in the message board that dark and weird was what the viewers were looking for. I stripped, turned to show the camera my profile, stared down Greta behind me, gritted my teeth, and breathed loudly through my nose in my impression of a sex-crazed psycho.

Twenty-three dollars in donations.

Cameron was next, and last. He stepped up to the camera, pants unbuttoned and hanging from his waist. He slipped his hand under his boxers and stroked himself. Grinding his teeth together, he said, “She’s gonna suck me off then I’m going to come on her face.”

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