HUGE X3: A MFMM Menage Stepbrother Romance (4 page)

BOOK: HUGE X3: A MFMM Menage Stepbrother Romance
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3

“Welcome to the pleasure-dome,” Jason says in a mock
game show host voice.

“Smooth, dude,” Austin laughs.
 
I think I manage a nervous chuckle at his
stupid humor and take a long swallow of the remaining champagne in my glass.

“Just trying to lighten the moment.
 
It was feeling a little intense in here.”

“That’s cool,” I say.
 
“I guess I’m a little nervous.”

“You don’t have to be nervous with us.”
 
Austin cups my cheek with his big warm palm
and looks directly into my eyes.
 
“Tonight is all about you, baby girl.
 
You tell us what you want and we deliver.
 
Simple as that.”

“Simple,” I murmur.
 
Somehow none of what he said sounds simple.
 
How often do women really communicate their
desires to their partners.
 
I never
have.
 
Not really.
 
I guarantee most married couples haven’t
talked about what really makes them tick in the deepest recesses of their
brains.
 
We just muddle through our
sexual relationships hoping that P in V with a little or T on C will do the
trick.
 
And that might be okay for your
average guy, but most women have sex more in their mind than their body. It’s
why reading saucy books does it for me so much more than watching porn.
 
I can create my own appealing pictures from
the words.

It’s kind of freeing to hear that if I wanted to take
the chance, I could really tell them what really turns me on.
 
These sexy twins that have appeared from
nowhere, with the sole purpose of making my sexual desires come true.
 

Austin takes my empty glass from me and hands it to
Jason.
 
I know this from my peripheral
vision only as I’m so taken up with Austin’s hand in my hair and his lips
almost on mine that I think I forget to breathe.
 
His lips press against mine in a ghost of a
kiss.
 
It’s so soft I find myself falling
forward when I seek more pressure and he has already pulled away.

“Easy,” he says as though he’s trying to calm a
frightened animal rather than an overeager sex-starved woman.

Jason steps forward and takes over from Austin,
stroking my curls and pressing kisses to my jaw.
 
When he looks into my eyes, I think I see
something darker there than his brothers.
 
His hand grips me tightly on my hips, his lips press harder.

I feel Austin’s hand on my arm, stroking my skin
gently, waking all the nerves there so I shiver.
 
He slips behind me and presses his body
against me.
 
When he lifts my hair and kisses
my neck I have to press my legs together to ease the rush of arousal
there.
 

“Close your eyes,” Jason whispers.
 
I gaze at him for a moment, wondering if I
can do that.
 
Can I let myself go that
much?

“It’s okay.” Austin’s voice behind me is equally
soothing.

I nod and do as they ask.
 
It’s strange to stand in darkness with two
virtual strangers so close to me.
 
Now
I’ve agreed to this, I don’t feel as though it would be okay to open them.
 

“Tell us what you want,” Jason says close to my ear,
taking the soft flesh of my lobe between his teeth and nibbling gently.

“You,” I say.
 
“Both of you.”

“How?”
 
It’s
Austin who wants to know.

“Together,” I say.
 

“How?”

“Just…” I don’t know how to describe what I want.
 
It’s all there in my mind but I’ve never told
anyone.
 
I’ve never verbalized any of it,
and to do so feels so strange.

“Not ‘just’,” Jason says.
 
“’Just’ is a cop out.
 
‘Just’ isn’t want you want.
 
Tell us your fantasy, Katelin.
 
We can make it real.”

In the darkness behind my eyelids, his words are like
poetry.
 
Like dripping liquid chocolate,
like sweet music.
 
Just those words of
his are half my fantasy.
 
To have two men
want to make my desires real is almost too much.

“Tell us,” Austin urges. His hands rest at my waist
and I feel the hardness of his cock press against me.
 
It’s a reminder of what I have on offer and
it makes me greedy, feverish, desperate enough to tell them.

“Blindfold me.”

“Yes,” they say in unison, the excitement in their
voices so evident I want to smile.

“Hold me down.”

“Yes.”

“Take turns,” I say, flushing from head to foot.

“Oh, baby.
 
We
intend to,” Jason says.

“Tell each other what to do, so I can hear.”

“You want us to whisper dirty things,” Austin says
from behind me.

“Yes.”

“And do dirty things,” Jason adds, pressing his lips
to the hollow of my throat.

“Yes.”

“How dirty, baby?” Austin’s voice is so thick with
longing that I barely hear the words.

“Dirty.”

“Fuck.” Jason growls the word, kissing me hard on the
mouth.
 
With my eyes closed it’s a pretty
overwhelming experience. Then he’s gone.

“Keep your eyes closed,” Austin says.
 
His hand travels up my front, stopping just
under my breasts.
 
His breath on my neck
is hot and fast and his chest presses against me with each inhale.
 
Oh god, I want to open my eyes to see what’s
going on but I can’t.
 
I don’t want to
spoil the moment.
 
Not for anything.
 
This is my once in a lifetime chance.
 
This is my moment to know what it’s really
like to let go, to hand over all control, to ask for what I want and hopefully
to be given what I need.

I feel like a kid at Christmas who can see that the
gift they are about to unwrap might just be the thing they’ve been hoping for for
months.

I hear Jason opening a door; the closet, maybe.
 
I’m trembling with anticipation.
 
I’m so turned on I feel faint and weak at the
knees.
 
If Austin wasn’t holding me I’d
need to reach for some furniture to prop me up or bend over and rest my hands
on my knees like I do after a really long run.

Jason’s moving again and so are Austin’s hands,
cupping my breasts gently as though he is weighing them in his palm, or testing
them for fit.
 
I want to scream at him to
squeeze harder, pinch my nipples, show me how much he wants this.
 
I want him frenzied and out of control, but
he’s making me wait.
 
Or maybe he’s just
waiting for his brother.

“I’m going to wrap this over your eyes,” Jason
says.
 
His voice is gruffer than before
and it hits me straight between the legs.
 
I’m wet.
 
I can feel it in my
panties.
 
I blink and look at him for
just a second and when his eyes meet mine they are dark; black pupils so wide
they have almost obliterated his green irises.
 
He doesn’t smile at me, just stares, moving in closer with the fabric in
his hands.
 
It’s a tank top of some kind,
I think.
 
It’s summer and they’re from
out of town so I’m guessing that scarves weren’t really on their packing
list.
 
“No peeking,” Jason says and
Austin makes a little sound in his throat that sounds disapproving.
 

“Was she looking?” he asks his brother.

“Yeah.
 
Her eyes
were open.”

Austin’s hands grip my breasts tighter as though he’s
displeased, then he moves to take hold of the straps of my dress and pulls it
down to my waist.

The air is cool on my chest and back but my senses are
so focused on what Jason is doing that I don’t shiver.
 
The fabric is soft over my face and smells
good, like fabric softener with a hint of something alpine fresh.
 
I imagine them wearing the shirt, the gray
cloth stretched across their broad chests and I get the urge to nuzzle into in
and inhale deeply.
 
I’m momentarily
perplexed by my train of thought and the urgency of my feelings for these
men.
 
I’m not the kind of girl who sniffs
her boyfriend’s clothes that he’s behind.
 
Yeah, I like the clean smell of aftershave or shower products, but
nuzzling the t-shirts of people I barely know is something totally new.

Unable to see, I allow myself to be led backward
toward the bed.
 
Someone strips my dress
down my thighs and I’m left standing in just my Wonder Woman thong.

“Oh, baby,” someone says.
 
I think it’s Austin because I can hear something
wicked in his voice.

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Jason replies.

“They’re so cool I almost don’t want to take them
off,” Austin says.

“They’re cool, but not that cool.”

I feel a finger hook through the elastic at one hip
and then the other.
 
They are slow in
pulling my panties off and the wait is excruciating.
 
My nipples are so hard that my breasts feel
smaller and tighter.
 
The air is warm but
I’m a mess of shivers and goosebumps.
 
My
arms hang at my sides because I don’t know where they are and whether it’s okay
for me to touch them.
 
I feel like a
piece of artwork, inanimate and standing for their consideration.

“Fuck,” someone mutters.
 
“She’s beautiful.”

“Yeah,” someone else replies softly.
 
When their voices are quiet, I can’t quite
make out who is who.

I shift on my feet, feeling so exposed and aroused
too.
 
There’s something very sexy about
being looked at and talked about, especially as it feels as though I’m not
really present or involved.

I’m not expecting to feel a hot mouth tugging at one
of my nipples as the first contact they make.
 
At the same time, a hot, rough palm strokes over the swell of my ass
really slowly.

“Her skin is soft like a peach.”

The fingers stroke a little between the cheeks and I
jump, not expecting it at all.
 
“You’re
sensitive,” a voice whispers close to my ear.

I nod and he chuckles.
 
“Good.”

A hand moves to stroke my belly; long languid rubs
from side to side that make me dizzy.
 
Every swipe gets closer to my pussy and I shift my feet again so that I
can press my legs together.

The mouth suckles hard, teeth nipping and I gasp.

“I think she likes that.”

“Touch her. She’s ready.”

Fingers slip down, caressing the small patch of hair
on my mound, teasing at my lips but not quite slipping between.

“Open your legs.” A rough voice in my ear, hot breath
on my cheek.
 
Press of lips against mine.

I do as I’m told, spreading them wide enough that
whoever is touching me can get where he wants to go.
 

“Sit on the bed,” a voice says.
 
The mouth leaves my nipple wet and a little
sore as hands guide me into a seated position.
 
Hands on my knees spread my legs wide.
 
The bed shifts behind me and I’m moved so I’m lying with my legs still
resting on the floor.

Fingers stroke my labia so gently, teasing them apart
like they are trying to make my pussy open like a flower.
 
I wriggle and hands move to grip my wrists,
holding my arms tight to the bed.

“Lick her.” I think it’s Jason holding me and Austin
between my legs.
 

“Oh fuck,” I say when a tongue touches my clit.
 
The roughness of it, the probing of the point
moving in circles feels so amazing that I can’t keep my hips still.
 
Austin’s hands grip my thighs, fingers
digging in hard.
 
He licks and licks,
sometimes using this tongue to push inside me, sometimes gently tapping my
clit, keeping me waiting for each contact.
 
I whimper.
 
I need fingers inside
me.
 
I need them to fuck me.

“I think she wants more,” Jason says.
 

“Bite her nipples,” Austin orders and Jason does
exactly what he’s told, moving from one to the other as his brother finally
pushes a finger inside me.
 
My orgasm
takes me by surprise, my body going so tight that my back arches up off the
bed.
 
Austin presses on my lower belly
and the orgasm keeps going; wave after wave of pleasure that feels too amazing
to be real.

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