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The Thieving Threesome

The Thieving Threesome

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The Thieving Threesome

evaluări:
4/5 (4 evaluări)
Lungime:
59 pages
53 minutes
Lansat:
Jul 23, 2020
ISBN:
9781094412252
Format:
Carte

Descriere

Raul, Liza, and Peter are a polyamorous triad who lives for fancy parties, delectable food, scandalous rendezvous, and the occasional art theft … or jewelry theft, for that matter, and occasionally a suitcase full of cash if the case arises. You get the idea.
Madly in love, definitely oversexed, and as glamorous and cocky as they come, this delicious threesome wreaks havoc on New York high society in these hilarious, erotic, and utterly over-the-top stories.

Lansat:
Jul 23, 2020
ISBN:
9781094412252
Format:
Carte

Despre autor

Guy New York is a bestselling erotica author, designer, and degenerate who spends most of his time either writing about sex or having it. Sometimes he does both at the same time, much to the chagrin of his partners. With more than 75 titles to his name — including four full-length novels, ten novellas, and numerous short stories — his books have been widely read and often burned. Visit his author site at www.guynewyork.com.

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The Thieving Threesome - Guy New York

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The Safe Job

Where’s Raul?

Liza was standing next to me, but she nevertheless whispered in my ear in her deeply conspiratorial voice. I was sipping a martini and looking around the room trying to remember names. I had met some of the people at the party, but I’d be damned if I really knew any of them. That was Raul’s department.

I assume he’s off looking for something scandalous, I said in a normal tone of voice. Are you sure they said this was a sex party? Or even a sexy party? It feels more like a normal, regular, everyday Soho loft party.

I don’t know, Liza said, wrapping both hands around my arm and leaning on my shoulder. Raul sourced the event, and you know how he is. If there’s not something going on, he’ll try to start it.

It’s why we love him.

"It’s why you love him. I tolerate him at best."

You adore him, I said, turning to kiss the top of her head.

We had been there for an hour, but we only lost our partner twenty minutes ago. The space wasn’t quite large enough for him to have gone far, but when it came to Raul, you never knew where he was going to end up. Once, at a dinner in Midtown, he wormed his way into a backroom casino, where he ended up winning $1,000 in poker before they threw him out.

We all drank Champagne that night.

Maybe we should fire-start, Liza said wistfully.

While not terribly shy, she wasn’t the first person you’d expect to strip off her clothes, even if it was that sort of party, which I was increasingly sure this wasn’t. Half the fun of these things was enjoying the event, but sometimes, you just have to make do with what you have.

Raul would be upset if we did anything without him. And besides, is there anyone here you want to sleep with?

Other than you two? I suppose not, but that doesn’t mean I like it. We can’t spend all our time working.

Liza wasn’t quite pouting, but she was close to it. And a bored Liza was a dangerous one. Nevertheless, she followed me through the crowd as we casually said hello to friends and acquaintances. Thankfully, we weren’t super close to anyone. These things require a delicate balance.

I love you, but we do need to focus, I whispered as we turned the corner to find the entrance to the balcony. Maybe our boy had found himself some new friends, or worse, had managed to bum a cigarette from one of the last smokers in Manhattan. I hadn’t kept track of his drinking, but if he had more than two, anything was possible.

There you are!

Raul took two long steps, kissed us each on the lips, and then promptly stepped in between us as he was prone to doing. I’ve been doing some research, and I have to say, this is absolutely the stuffiest party we’ve been to in ages. There is no doubt about it. Not one single affair to be talked about. Nobody’s sister is selling herself on the street. Even the queer folks are respectable. I’m so depressed.

There’s no orgy room? Liza asked as the three of us walked toward the stone wall that lined the edge of the balcony. Five floors below us, Prince Street was mostly quiet.

Barely a cocaine bathroom! he said, with full-blown exasperation. But at least you’re here. We’re here! It can’t be a total bust if the three of us have made an appearance, right? I mean, isn’t that why they invite us to these things? So everyone can gawk at the incredibly handsome Latino, his beautiful girlfriend, and his slightly less attractive boyfriend?

Oh, be quiet, or I’ll take you over my knee right here, I told him, scolding him with a slap to the arm.

He was too handsome for his own good. And he knew it. And everyone loved him. It would have been sickening if I wasn’t one of them.

You always make promises, he said, as we turned back toward the party.

It was a beautiful event, there was no doubt of that. The apartment was beautiful. The food was beautiful. Even the people were beautiful. But that didn’t make it sexy. It didn’t make it the sort of soirée we’d write down in our oh-so-scandalous memoirs. It would be a footnote in an otherwise

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