Entangled With The Mafia Triplets

Chapter 1: You Are All Wet For Us 

Sophie

“Take off your clothes.” A voice demanded as soon as they had settled into the chair in a room I recognized to be a playroom.

My hands shook a little as I reached for the hem of my dress, ready to throw it off me.

“Slowly,” another voice instructed.

I gradually slid the fabric up, revealing my body little by little until finally, it was completely off and laying on the floor beside me.

“Now the bra,” the third and deep voice muttered, his eyes glued to my breasts moving up and down with my rapid breathing. 

It was impossible to calm down my breathing, I was too worked up. The chill in the room instantly made my nipples hardened as I got the bra off and they knotted even further from the gaze of the three men watching.

“And your panties,” the order comes again 

It was like they were collaborating and I found it hot. Holding my thumb in my thong, I slid my panties off. I was now standing completely naked in front of three fully dressed men. Just that alone made me grow more wetter. I was theirs to do with as they pleased and I was merely here to give and take whatever they wanted.

“Turn around and let us see you.” He commanded and with hesitant steps, I did as I was told. 

I could literally feel their eyes on me, their gaze was so heavy that I could swear they were touching me.

“Bend down and touch your toes with your fingers.” 

I didn't know which of them the growl came from, my ears were buzzing too much to differentiate between their voices. The blush came back with full force and I was pretty sure it hadn't just settled on my cheeks only because my whole body was burning with it. It was humiliating as I bent down and stretched my arms until I reached my toes. They could see everything now and some part of me loved that, my whole body loves that. I loved the feeling of humiliation mixed with nerve and excitement. It was a heady blend of emotions, almost enough to get high off.

“Good girl. You are all wet for us, do you like this? Do you like us ordering you around?” One of them, I held my position, they hadn't told me to stand up yet.

“Y..yes, Sir.” I moaned, my legs burned with the stretch but still I didn't move.

“What do you want us to do for you?” 

I could hear the words but I can't pinpoint whose voice it was. The loud pulse in my ears hadn't stepped, in fact, at this point, it had gotten worse. The blood was rushing to my head. Infinite ideas sprung to mind at their question but I dismissed them all, wanting them to choose for me.

“Anything you want, sir.” I responded honestly, my voice a husky tone that I hardly recognized.

“Then, spread your legs more, let us see you.” I spread my legs, showing them my glistening pussy, my juice dripping onto the floor. 

Without warning, I was pushed on all fours, a month fiercely attacking my pussy and sucking my clit as his life depends on it. There were hands everywhere, and it felt like heaven. Another mouth leached onto one of my nipples, twisting the other in between his fingers. Then I heard the sound of a zipper opening before I felt a dick shoved down my throat, making me gag. The feeling was pure bliss, hands everywhere, lips leaving wet kisses all over my body and voice whispering what a good girl I was. I could feel my orgasm approaching and it felt like the best orgasm ever. I was being pleasured by three men. Fuck, it feels so good.

Suddenly, I began hearing the sound of my alarm. The sound grew louder, I jumped up and my eyes fluttered open. Looking around, I was alone, laying down on the bed in my small apartment. Out of impulse I reached down to my pussy, I was all soaked. 

“Fuck,” I cursed, this is one hell of a dream.

I ripped my covers off the bed, sending a copy of Iliad and a few paint brushes I had been painting my hand with to the floor, adding to the mess my tiny apartment already had. I changed the covers, hating every moment of it. There was nothing in this world that I hated more than changing bedsheets. It was a frustrating task and no one in my life now had been able to give me a good reason why it needed to be done frequently. I was positive I was changing them after about three weeks, my mother would lose her head if she knew.

Speaking of the devil, as soon as I relaxed myself over the comfortable surface of my bed and started gazing at the ceiling I had painted the darkest shade of purple and then finished with making constellations on it using a perfect golden color which has been too expensive, my mother decided to call. Pushing my anger down and convincing myself that she no longer held any power over my life even though I knew that was a lie. I reached towards my nightstand table which had my hoodie hanging from it for some reason and grabbed my phone. I took my time admiring the back case of it that had my favorite artist smiling at me in a rather adorable way before I decided to pick up the call.

“The number you are calling…’

“Sophie Taylor!” She yelled.

“Mother,” I sighed, already exhausted with the conversation, rolling in my small bed to lay on my stomach. 

I put the phone between my ear and bed and looked at the window on my left which showed nothing but the apartment building in front of mine. It was a rather ugly one, not that the one I lived in was made of diamonds. I could not afford much, not when I was trying to not use much of my mother's money.

“I saw the pictures.” She snapped and her voice was always like that, accusing. So very accusing.

“You can at least wear good clothes when going out.”

I had good clothes, really nice clothes but I just valued my comfort over my need of looking good sometimes and those times were the time paparazzi would capture me in their stupid little cameras. It didn't even make sense, my stepfather was my step father. I was not his biological daughter, he had three of them, so I was just an unwanted addition to my mother.

“My bunny slippers are awesome, mother.”

Yes, it was a little embarrassing to be walking around with them on but I had not slept the whole night. Her furious breathing was her answer and I sighed.

“I was tired.” I muttered.