The Knocked Up Lust Bundle (3 page)

With a grunt and a smile, he did exactly that. She had heard talk how usually a guy's second orgasm was weaker than his first—it didn't have as much volume. If that was the case, Andre was the exception that proved the rule.

His hot spunk layered over her neck, her chin, and then her cheeks and lips and forehead, coating her completely. It was so deliciously warm and gooey. With her fingers, she scooped it up and slurped it down. Andre smiled as he watched her, biting one lower lip.

“That's good,” he said. “You're a natural.”

“I'm just happy to please.”

When she was all cleaned off, he slid down next to her and wrapped an arm around her curves. She snuggled against Andre’s strong body, holding him tight. Next to him, she felt safe; and it was so nice knowing that at any given time, there would always be someone who thought she was perfect just the way she was.

* * * * *

M
onday afternoon, Holly was humming along, finishing off her work in the office. Today was her last day.

All weekend long, Andre had drilled her beautifully. They planned to go out to nice dinners, but whenever they saw each other, all either of them could think to do was hot, beautiful, perfect sex right away. Afterward they just raided the fridge for leftovers.

She had left her office for about ten minutes, transporting boxes of documents to her car. There was only one box left—all her office supplies. By this time, she had gotten rather good at transporting them.

In front of her office was Andre, a smile on his face.

“I’ve got a surprise for you, gorgeous.”

“Oh yeah?” she smiled, putting a hand on her hip in a mock-sultry manner. “Whatever could it be?”

Obviously, she imagined the surprise had something to do with the wonderful meat in his pants. “Close your eyes, and take my hand, and you’ll find out.”

Obediently, she closed her eyes—she even put her free hand over her eyelids—and took Andre’s hand. The latching sound of the door to her office reverberated through the small, emptied building as he led her inside. This late in the day, there was no one left but them.

“You can open your eyes, now.”

She did, and gasped. The facts of the situation rolled over her slowly.

It was Rick.

It was Rick, naked.

It was Rick, naked, stroking his hard-on while he looked at Holly. His taut, muscled body was tensed up with need.

Andre explained, “He and I had a talk over the weekend. You see, he felt just awful about what he said about you.”

“I did,” said Rick. “I do.”

“And he wanted to apologize.”

Rick nodded, still stroking himself. “I do apologize, Holly. I’m really sorry. I was just trying to keep up appearances. It wasn't fair to you at all.”

“Oh,” said Holly. “I sort of...sort of suspected something like that.” She recalled that sad, sad look on his face. “It's all right. It all turned out.”

Clearly relieved, Rick smiled. Holly could smell him—his hot manly musk, the sweat rolling off his muscles.

“But,” Andre explained, gripping Holly's shoulders and kissing her on the neck, “we both wanted him to make it up to you a little more. And we decided the best way to do that was to show you how much we like a girl with some meat on her bones.”

Rick smiled, stroking his cock slow. “What do you say, Holly? Give me another chance?”

Eyes wide, pussy clenching with need, Holly nodded slowly. “Oh yeah,” she moaned. “I’ll give you another chance right now.”

Andre turned her around and kissed her then, pulling roughly at her blouse. Everything ripped off easily, her expensive blouse, her designer skirt. Soon all her clothes were in tatters on the floor, even her bra and panties. She didn’t care at all.

Then, Rick grabbed her from the other side and kissed her hard, his tongue hard into her mouth. His hands groped and tugged at her big tits, kneading them with strong, dense fingers. Both of them felt so warm and snug against her voluptuous offerings.

“You see,” Andre said into her ear. “Thicker girls...they can be used as rough as we like. And we do like to use ‘em rough. What do you think, sweetheart?”

Rick's hand reached up onto her pussy, squeezing, his fingers dipping into her folds. Andre's hand met Rick's from the other way around, both of them holding on to her middle like a handle.

Holly’s mind was positively melting. “Yes, please!” she gasped, her breasts heaving. “
Please
.”

“You want us to use you together?” Rick breathed into her other ear. “Fuck you at the same time, like the hot fucktoy you are?”

She nodded rapidly, hot greedy tongue sliding around her lips, dripping down flecks of eager saliva. “Uh huh!”

Together, they pushed her down onto all fours. Her sexy body faced toward Rick; her rear positioned at Andre. Andre's cock was totally bare. He wasn't wearing protection at all. He let that fact slide over Holly's body as he circled her pussy entrance with his naked meat.

Oh fuck, thought Holly. He could get me pregnant!

She knew she was definitely well within her window...and she hadn't bothered taking birth control for a long time now.

Rick slapped her face with his cock. “You like that, Holly? You like being used like my little fucktoy?”

Oh god, she did, she did! She loved it so fucking much! There was nothing like being used and owned by a man...nothing, except of course, being used by
two
men!

Holding her hair tight, Rick jammed her face full of his cock. From behind, Andre pistoned into her hot pussy, holding her thick behind hard. His fingers kneaded into the ample flesh of her butt, clearly loving how much there was to squeeze and hold with his rough man hands.

Their hands came together at her waist, sliding over each other. They were so glad for the other’s strength—so happy to have another man to share all this woman with.

When Rick pushed, Holly did her best to push back—even as Andre pushed as well. And when Andre thrust forward, she squeezed her cunt walls tight, hoping to provide him with a hot, tight escape into her pussy.

She could feel both of them tightening, tensing, their muscles working together like a machine made to fuck and fill her. Andre spurted suddenly, letting out a hot gushing release of hot cum right into her unprotected cunt. At the same time, Rick moaned, his grip tightening on Holly's face, and shot his sweet, manly load right down her throat.

Holly just couldn't hold back anymore. She came too—sudden and furious, her bliss matching every molecule of cum with ten megatons of pleasure.

Her orgasm shook through her body like she was a palm tree and it a hurricane. Swept away into the winds of this pleasure and absolutely soaked from the men filling her up, nothing was on her mind but rapture. Rick pulled out of her mouth and sprayed her face, marking her as his. Or at least, partly his.

Covered in Rick’s hot jizz, filled with Andre’s amazing spunk, she wrapped her arms around both men and guided them down on the ground, placing their faces into her big breasts. Their foreheads nuzzled together. There they all dozed, each so happy with the other.

And just before dozing off for a few hours, before she took Andre and Rick home with her for even more three way fucking, she thought: what a nice day at the office.

# # #

––––––––

W
armth and bliss washed over the eighteen year-old Paige. She had never been happier, staring up at the studly Michael. He was so big, so chiseled and strong. And all of him—all of his amazing, hot, white gift had just been sprayed all over her. And then...

Then. The door to the bedroom banged open.

“Just
what
do you think you’re doing?” cried Diana, seeing the explicit display Paige had been transformed into.

Paige, trying to gulp, stared in terror at the woman who had burst into the master bedroom. Diana was the hot young wife of Michael, the stud who had just finished fucking Paige’s face and throat. There was absolutely no disguising the fact that Michael had, in fact, just finished all over Paige’s face. The goo dripped down her cheeks, her lips, and even in her fear from suddenly seeing Diana enter the room, the hot young teenage beauty could not help but lick her lips and slide the hot seed into her mouth.

It just tasted so good. So much better than she ever could have dreamt of—and she had dreamed of tasting it often.

Michael, resplendent and studly, was the father of Paige’s best friend, Becky. The busty, slender, brunette Diana was Becky’s stepmother—though really they were more like sisters, since Becky was only about twenty-six, while Michael was in his forties.

Paige felt like she had been living the dream—finally being the one to fuck Becky’s hot dad! All the girls at school talked about what a stud he was.

And now that dream had turned into a nightmare with Diana arriving, a scornful look on her face as she approached.

Paige couldn’t help but wonder how all this had gotten so out of hand.

* * * * *

O
nly an an hour and a half earlier, the night was cool, and Paige was filled with imminent terror about her situation at home.

She stood in front of Becky's house, frantically knocking on the door.

It was late on a Wednesday night—a school night. It was past ten, as a matter of fact. She should be home, studying for her history test tomorrow.

But she hadn't been able to study at all that night after her mother dropped the bomb on her earlier in the day—no, she had to talk to Becky. There was too much going on to concentrate without a good heart-to-heart first

Paige just simply couldn’t
believe
her mother’s actions. To ask that jerk Dan back in their lives, just like that! To get involved with that utter creep again! God! The nerve!

Fuming as she was, she couldn’t
possibly
keep her thoughts inside herself, and she needed Becky as a sounding board.

Becky was Paige's best friend. The two of them had been intertwined together like wires behind a television since they were each in kindergarten. They were both eighteen now, and had lots of the same classes and were on the tennis team together at their high school.

Neither of them were much good at tennis, of course. Paige only played because Becky did, and Becky played to keep herself in shape and stay tanned. Paige stayed in shape and tanned also, of course.

All in all, Paige was a fine looking young woman. She had long straight dark hair, perfect 36C breasts, an astonishingly well-developed hourglass figure, and a heart-shaped face that was the product of fine Scandinavian and German genetics, complete with plush lips, high cheekbones, and sexy blue eyes. Without a doubt, she was a looker—but she was saving herself for someone really special.

Her figure had only really kicked in within the last year, after a sudden growth spurt, and so she had never even been asked out that much. Of course, she caught guys at school looking at her, wanting her. She would have been lying if she said she didn't enjoy it just a bit. But, boys at school always seemed so immature, so obsessed with themselves, so unable to do anything but view Paige as some hottie to put on a pedestal and parade around.

In her dreams, if she had to be honest, she wanted an older man. Someone to guide her through the process—to teach her how to be a hot, perfect lover in the way that her body promised. Paige knew she was sexy—but she just didn't know yet how to really put it all together.

Impatiently, almost desperately, she knocked on the door again. It was rather cool outside, after all, and all she was wearing was a thin white t-shirt and short-short denim shorts. Her platform sandals clomped on the wood of the porch as she shuffled and tried to keep warm.

To Paige's surprise, Becky’s father, Michael, answered the door. He was sweating—wearing gym shorts and a tight white t-shirt. Clearly, he had been working out. His tight, remarkable muscles were bulging, hot veins popping in a rather eye-pleasing manner. His gym shorts were rather short, and she could see the defined nature of his tanned thighs, and how alluringly hairy they were. And there, between his legs...was a definite bulge. A really, really big bulge.

Paige was surprised to see him. She almost never talked with Michael one-on-one.

It was difficult to say with exactitude why she found Michael so attractive—though only because there were only so many possible areas of interest.

Was it the hard, chiseled nature of his runner’s body? Was it the rugged, bearded jawline that was peppered with a sexy amount of gray? Was it the ice blue eyes, or the deep voice, or the thick strong hands, or his manly swath of chest hair...the list went on.

He was a hunk. Paige wanted him. End of discussion.

Lots of times Paige had spoken privately with Diana—Michael’s beautifully busty young wife—to the point where the two of them were great friends. Paige felt almost as close to the vivacious Diana as she did to Becky, as a matter of fact.

Becky’s mother—Michael’s first wife—had died some time ago, and Michael remarried the voluptuous brunette Diana only a few years back. Diana always had a smile on her face, and Paige was always hearing stories from Becky about the fun little gifts she brought home every other week for the family—things like stuffed animals and little thank-you cards for everyday occurrences like taking care of chores. Her zest for life had seemed to reinvigorate Michael, who had been falling into something of a depression from grief.

Paige had read in the past that when a man married a younger woman and had a daughter who was in her late teens, that some conflict was inevitable. Diana and Becky had been no exception. For the first several months of the new marriage, Becky had constantly called Paige, confiding in her about how much she hated her wicked new stepmother.

But then, with time and a few well-placed vacations, their relationship turned around. The girls both realized that they both loved Michael, and that the best way to make him happy, truly, was just to get along.

It worked out well for Paige—after Becky and Diana made up, Diana had become Paige's fast friend and mentor, and had gotten her a job as an intern at the local hospital where Diana worked as a night administrator. Paige was always happy for the new bits to add to her resume. College was just around the corner.