Chapter 274: Chapter 274: Morning Fuel
Alexander walked back into the penthouse suite, finding both women hurriedly getting dressed. Amy was pulling on a short pleated skirt, while Helen was smoothing out a tailored crimson dress that fit her mature curves.
"You’re back," said Amy, her eyes flashing with playful triumph as she zipped up her top. "Good. Because I’m starving, and you’re buying us breakfast."
"There’s a private VIP buffet downstairs in the garden courtyard," Helen said, walking over to Alexander and leaning in to press a soft, lingering kiss against his jaw. "Let’s go down. I need some coffee after what you put me through last night."
The three of them took the private elevator down to the hotel’s exclusive outdoor dining area. The courtyard was beautifully landscaped, filled with lush greenery and white marble tables quiet and secluded from the main lobby. They took a booth tucked away near the back corner, surrounded by thick hedges that offered plenty of privacy.
The table was quickly loaded with fresh pastries, exotic fruits, coffee, and savory breakfast platters. The mood was light, the previous night’s hanging in the air like a delicious electric charge.
"Try this," said Helen, scooping up a delicate piece of smoked salmon with her fork and sliding it right to Alexander’s lips. "You burned a lot of calories, dear. You need your strength."
Alexander bit it off the fork, his eyes locking with hers as a confident smirk cut through his face. "I have plenty of strength left, Helen. Don’t worry about that."
Amy let out a soft, competitive huff picking up a glazed strawberry and pressing it against her mouth. "Eat mine too! Mine is sweeter."
Alexander chuckled, chewing the fruit as his hands drifted beneath the white linen tablecloth. He didn’t miss a beat, his palm sliding up Amy’s bare thigh under her skirt, his fingers finding her freshly shaved slick opening. She was already dripping, the lingering heat from the sofa still active.
"Ah..." Amy let out a sharp, choked gasp, her fingers tightening around her coffee cup. Her face turned a brilliant shade of pink as she looked around the quiet courtyard, terrified a waiter might walk by.
"What’s the matter, Amy?" asked Helen, a knowing, wicked gleam flashing in her violet eyes as she took a slow sip of her espresso. "Is the coffee too hot for you?"
"No... it’s fine," Amy whispered, her lower lip trembling as Alexander’s fingers began a rhythmic friction against her sensitive clitoris right under the table. She bit her lip, her chest heaving as she forced herself to look at her mother. "Mom... tell him to stop..."
"Why would I do that?" chuckled Helen, her own bare foot sliding out of her high heel beneath the table. She extended her leg, her smooth, mature foot rubbing right against Alexander’s groin, feeling his thick erection hardening against her arches. "He has two hands, doesn’t he?"
Amy’s eyes went wide with an adrenaline. Caught between the stimulation from Alexander’s fingers and her mother’s blatant teasing, she lost her mind. Without a word, she slid out of her seat and dropped directly beneath the table, disappearing beneath the long white cloth.
Alexander raised an eyebrow, keeping his composure as he leaned back against the leather cushion.
Beneath the tablecloth, Amy unbuttoned his trousers with trembling fingers, freeing his thick, throbbing length. She didn’t hesitate for a second; she opened her mouth wide and buried his shaft deep down her throat, her hands gripping her thighs for balance as she began a morning blowjob.
Gulp... Gulp...
"My, the weather is beautiful today, isn’t it, Alexander?" asked Helen, her voice smooth and casual as she watched his eyes darken, fully aware of what her daughter was doing to him out of sight. She reached across the table, dipping her finger into a bowl of whipped cream, then reached down to slide it directly along Alexander’s lower lip. "You look a little tense, dear. Let me help you relax."
Helen chuckled, a low sultry sound as she leaned further across the table. Her mature breasts pressed firmly against the edge of the marble, her hair cascading forward to frame her face.
"Don’t let her have all the fun," whispered Helen, her hand dropping beneath the white linen tablecloth. She grabbed Alexander’s left hand, guiding it up her own dress, forcing his fingers right into her soaking wet satin panties. "Manhandle me, Alex."
Alexander gripped her mature, soft flesh, his fingers burying deep into her slick opening with an aggressive friction. Helen let out a sharp, trembling breath, her eyes rolling back slightly as she gripped his shoulder for balance, her manicured nails digging through his jacket.
Right beneath them, Amy was still working, her throat swallowing his thick length in a ruthless, soaking rhythm. The dual stimulation had Alexander’s eyes turning pitch black, his jaw clenched as the wet, muffled sounds of the morning performance echoed under the heavy cloth.
Suddenly, a shadow fell over the table.
"Pardon the interruption, sir, ma’am," said a polite, stiff voice.
Helen froze, pulling her upper body back with an sharp, icy expression. She glared up at the young hotel waiter, her eyes flashing with a dangerous fury that could have melted steel. "What is it?"
"I brought the freshly squeezed orange juice you requested," said the waiter, his voice though his eyes instinctively dropped toward the table.
As he set the crystal glasses down, the white tablecloth shifted slightly due to Amy’s frantic, bobbing head beneath it. The heavy fabric parted for a fraction of a second exposing the view from the waiter’s angle: Alexander’s thick, throbbing length fully slicked with saliva, and Amy on her knees right in front of his lap, her lips wrapped tightly around the shaft.
The waiter’s hands stiffened for a microsecond. He looked up, his gaze locking with Alexander’s unbothered, dangerous smirk, and then with Helen’s threatening glare.
The waiter didn’t blink. He pulled his hands back, straightened his vest, and gave a deep, flawless ninety-degree bow.
"Enjoy your breakfast, sir, ladies," said the waiter, his tone void of judgment as he turned on his heel and walked away with perfect composure.
Helen let out a sharp, breathy laugh, leaning back against the leather cushion as she looked at Alexander. "Well... that’s what a million dollars buys you, I suppose."
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