Male Order

Lillian Grant


Chapter One

A dull thud, thud, thud accompanied by yells of, “Yeehaw, ride ‘em cowboy,” made Meg roll her eyes and sigh loudly.

“For fuck’s sake, can you keep it down in there, literally?”

Laura glanced at her, then back at the bedroom door. “What’s he doing?”

Meg shook her head. “You don’t want to know.” She shuddered with mock horror at the memory.

“Really? Oh, please tell me, or I’ll have to go find out for myself.”

Laura got to her feet, a wicked gleam in her dark brown eyes. Geez, she would, too. Not that the sight of Sam laid back in a reclining chair, wearing only a cowboy hat and white socks, with his hand wrapped around his dick, jacking off like it was an Olympic sport, would freak her friend out. Hell no, she’d probably offer to ride him. She wasn’t about to let that happen. Sam was too good for the likes of Laura. He deserved a girl a little fussier about where she slept.

Meg jumped up and grabbed Laura’s arm, spilling coffee down the front of her own white shirt in the process. Shit, why couldn’t she do anything without making a mess of herself?

“If I tell you, will you sit back down and promise never to mention it to Sam?”

Laura retook her seat, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Oh, this is going to be really good.”

Meg glanced at the bedroom door. Despite her yelling at him to shut up, yips of pleasure still reached the lounge room.

“Go, baby, ride em. You got it.”

She looked back at Laura then stared at a slice of salami on the coffee table. It must be from the pizza Sam had after she went to bed last night. What a slob. An extremely well endowed slob, but a slob nonetheless.

“Well? Are you going to tell me or not?”

Meg sighed. “He’s jacking off.”

Laura snorted coffee all over the place. Choking, she banged her chest, tears streaming down her face. If Laura died from asphyxiation, she sure as hell wasn’t telling the paramedics Sam’s wanking caused her death.

Between gasping breaths Laura squeaked, “And you found this out how?”

Meg shrugged nonchalantly. No big deal really. He liked to jack off, a lot, and she wanted to see what had him yelling. How was she supposed to know what he was doing in there? She could feel the heat rising to her face at the memory.

She had shoved the door open and there he lay in all his glory, reclining chair toward her. The moment they made eye contact, a huge grin spread across his face as he continued to pummel his dick.

The thought of that monster in his hand still made her panties dampen and her insides throb. The head red and engorged, the shaft decorated with bulging veins, heavy balls bunched up tight between his widespread thighs. She’d been unable to move until he groaned and shot his wad all over his stomach. The memory of his warm spunk spilling from his cock made her squirm in her seat.

The spell had finally been broken when he winked at her, asking if she wanted to take a turn on his trusty steed. She had turned tail and run out of the house. Hiding in the mall for hours dressed in her food stained hot pink sweats and matching fluffy slippers.

“I went to check on him one afternoon when he got to yelling and I found him sitting in his chair jacking off. Anyway, I thought you were here to talk about work?”

Laura leaned forward, her face flushed. “So you’re not even going to tell me if he’s hung like a horse?”

Having Laura over was a mistake, she made no secret of the fact she liked Sam. Always going on about his buff body and rippling abs. No way was she going to add anything else to her best friend’s fantasy life, she already had an overactive imagination.

Despite all but chasing after him with drool running down her chin, Sam had shown no interest in her. She wondered why. With her heart-shaped face, willowy figure and immaculately styled long blonde hair, most men found her irresistible. Now she thought about it, Sam hadn’t just ignored her not so subtle advances but, as far as Meg remembered, the only dates he had since he moved in were with his right hand. Even if the women he met hadn’t seen him in all his naked glory, his cute smile and pale blue eyes would win him many loyal fans. They had sure as hell worked on her when he turned up in response to the landlord’s advertisement for someone to flat share with her. She glanced at Laura, who was wrapping a fat blonde curl around her finger and staring at her waiting for an answer.

Meg shrugged. “More like My Little Pony.” She was shocked at how easily and convincingly the lie slipped out without guilt or hesitation. “Now, can we please get back to our discussion?”

With a shrug, Laura put her coffee cup on the side table and pulled a pad and pen out of her bag. “Okay, we need a slogan for Wonder Bites.”

“I thought we did that already?”

“I ran them by Bill. His exact words were ‘you girls better get your shit together or you’ll be wearing sandwich boards advertising condoms in a brothel’.”

“Such a lovely turn of phrase, no wonder he’s in marketing. So did he hate both of them? I thought yours truly sucked. ‘Wonder Bites, good all the way from your mouth to the pan’.” She giggled at Laura as she pouted in response to her teasing.

“I was focusing on the health aspects of the cereal. Anyway you can’t talk. You would hardly win the Clio Award for advertising slogans with ‘Wonder Bites smell funky but taste real good’.”

“They do smell funky. I was just being honest. I’m getting sick of all the bullshit.” Meg stretched out the length of the couch and stared at the ceiling. She’d become fed up with peddling crap in New South Wales’ least successful ad agency. How many more lies could she couch in catchy slogans to sell garbage no one wanted? If only she had a product she believed in, or a job she enjoyed. “Laura, have you ever thought about doing something else for a living?”

“Every day, hun, I’ve even researched what else I could do with my skills.”

A kernel of an idea had been growing in Meg’s brain for weeks. Maybe Laura wouldn’t laugh if she told her. “I was thinking of going out on my own. You know, setting up my own business.”

“Doing what?”

Meg sighed. “That’s the big problem.”

Laura leaned forward into Meg’s peripheral vision. “Funny you should mention starting your own business. I’ve been thinking the same thing and I might just have an idea we could both use.”

The door to Sam’s room banged open. Meg glanced over at Laura. She’d lost her attention. Turning her head a little further, she could see why. There he stood. Skin glistening with sweat, his only attire a less than adequate white towel slung low on his hips and a cowboy hat on his head. Every step he took revealed the full length of his thigh, but thankfully not the full length of anything else.

He grinned at them, flashing a perfect set of pearly whites. “Ladies, what are you two plotting now?”

Meg crossed her arms over her chest. “How to kill noisy flat mates.”

She didn’t need to look to know he had moved closer. The scent of fresh sweat and musky cologne tickling her nose announced his arrival. His voice growled in her ear. “I think you enjoy hearing me almost as much as you enjoyed watching me. Maybe if you got out more you wouldn’t find my private life so stimulating. Unless you do really want me, but you’re too sexually repressed to let go.”

His face hovered above hers. Screw him. Why did he have to look so damn good when he had that smug expression on his mug? His blue eyes twinkled with amusement, his full lips quivered with barely contained laughter.

“For someone so ready to hand out dating advice, I can’t say I’ve noticed you being so lucky with the ladies of late.”

“Maybe I’m waiting for the right jockey.”

Meg grinned at him. “Or maybe you can’t find a jockey small enough to enjoy the ride.”

Her jibe missed the mark. He laughed before bending forward and brushing his lips against hers. His breath tickled her neck, making her shiver, as he whispered, “Perhaps you should slide in the saddle one night and take me through my paces. Then you would find out just how big my stallion really is.”

Hands on his shoulders, she shoved him away. It wasn’t the first time he had kissed her, but this time it had felt more intimate. Not the usual friendly peck and definitely part of his teasing. “Fuck off, Sam. We’re trying to work here.”



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