Excerpt: Genetic Celebrity by Tara Lain; MMF Menage with Food!
Tommy Riley loves cooking and the simple life. But his passion for Angie “Booky” Edelson is anything but simple. Beautiful, ambitious, hard-driving and 10 years older than Tommy, Booky represents all the things Tommy has tried to leave behind. Besides, she only seems to love him for his food! Then Tommy’s boss brings home Shay Shaleen, a pierced, tattooed, androgynous street kid for Booky to turn into a top male model. Tommy sizzles for the beautiful guy but Shay gets caught up in the flattery of a famous fashion designer. Why does Tommy have to fall for two people who can’t love him back? Is there a recipe for blending with these genetic celebrities?
THE MUSIC CHANGED to something classical. Baroque, he thought. Tommy looked up from his program. The show had been incredible, in no small part due to Shay. Every outfit the guy wore looked even more special just because he wore it. All around them, people were still whispering about the amazing new model—the face of de Chauvigny. Booky was in hog heaven. How did he feel? Confused.
Every time Shay walked out on the runway, Tommy’s cock leaped. Yet he was sitting here with his thigh pressed to Booky’s, their fingers twining and his brain plotting how soon he could get his dick back in her.
Maybe how he felt was normal. Hell, Shay was beautiful, and he had sucked Tommy’s cock. Really well. Of course, so had Booky. Tommy had gone from lonely masturbation to two fantastic hookups in a few days. It was lucky he didn’t have cock whiplash. Shay’s hadn’t been for real, but Tommy’s cock didn’t know that.
One of the female models walked out in a beautiful ruby-red evening gown. Sinuous and silky, it clung to her thinness like it was moving on its own. These women were beautiful, but he had no cock response. Booky, with her full breasts and cute round butt, did it for him down to the ground. The only model who turned him on was Shay.
Two more female models pranced down the aisle in gowns, their exaggerated walks and somber faces showing the clothes to advantage. They must be getting near the end.
Again the music changed subtly, this time to the Pachelbel Canon. The runway sat empty. The lights turned a little pinker, and a background of flowers came on the screen at the back of the stage. He could feel people holding their breath. He knew he was.
Out onto the stage walked Roan wearing a tuxedo to die for. The lights glistened off the sheen of the fabric and the shiny black hair that hovered around his face. People started to applaud. Technically it should be for the clothes, but Tommy knew it was for Roan. He was that famous in his own right, and this was his first appearance in the show.
He walked to the end of the runway with that graceful stride that made everyone else look clumsy, then turned and walked back to the place where he’d entered. But he didn’t exit. Instead, he stepped to the side and waited.
The lights came up a little more, and the music swelled.
The bride. Here comes the bride.
The gown filled the stage, billowing white poufy stuff that shone like silk, as simple as a song. The high collar pushed up under Shay’s chin with a ruffle, and the slashed shoulders showed off his beautiful collarbone.
As he stepped out, people gasped. The pale hair piled on his head and fell in tendrils around his face. An embroidered veil covered the shaved side. His expression was…interesting. Bemused, with a slight smile as if he had seen himself and been just as mesmerized as the audience.
Someone whistled. Applause began and grew. He glided to the end to thunderous clapping that drowned out the music, then turned and walked halfway back until Roan came forward to meet him. Roan tucked Shay’s arm around his, and they walked again the full length of the runway, bride and groom, husband and husband.
Tommy felt wetness sliding down his cheek. His heart didn’t fit in his chest. Shay was so beautiful, and Tommy loved him.
Booky pressed a hand to his arm. “Are you okay?”
He swiped at the tears. “Yeah. They just look so…special.”
She beamed. “They do, don’t they?”
The place was going ape shit. When Roan and Shay got back to the head of the runway, they moved to the side. The parade of models passed in front of them, their jewels and satins sparkling. De Chauvigny stepped out at the end of the row, and Roan and Shay flanked him. He took both their arms and walked the runway between them to cheers, flashes, and applause. A man sitting next to Tommy was madly filing a story on his laptop, and fashion bloggers tweeted and texted in every corner.
Tommy wasn’t sure he could move, his cock hurt so bad.
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