Stuffed by Two (BBW Steamy FMM Menage Romance) (3 page)

Jason’s hand wraps around my front,
his fingers working furiously at my clit.

I lose myself in the pain and
pleasure, observing my anxieties melt away into ecstasy. Fluids gush from me
and my body trembles. Brent is balls deep in my ass now.

A foreign kind of pleasure invades
my faculties, taking away my sense of control. I scream and moan, gyrating my
hips to the orgasmic tremors erupting from my core.

My body is still shaking in a fit
of euphoric convulsions when Madeline says, “Get her on the floor. I want to
see the way her tits bounce while you’re fucking her from behind.”

“Yes, Madeline.” My limbs, limp and
numb, fold to their will. The two of them waste no time getting on my hands and
knees.

Jason gets himself in front of me
and lifts my head beneath the chin, stroking his enormous cock, ready for his
turn to feel the inside of my throat.

As my lips close around his cock, I
can feel Brent’s tip gliding up and down between my slick folds. The head
pushes against my sopping wet entrance and my aching pussy starts to give way.

And then Brent is inside me.

My deep, desperate moans vibrate
the length of Jason’s cock down my throat. My back arches and my busty tits
sway in the air.

Madeline cracks a sinister smile,
sitting there with her perfect view.

Thick saliva drools from my lips
and lands on the plush pink carpet as I suck and gargle Jason’s cock down my
esophagus.

Brent grabs hold of my round ass
and thrusts himself inside until he bottoms out at my cervix.

My hips buck wildly against him,
riding his whole dick like a true slut.

“Cum for me, now! Cum inside her!”

Madeline’s words ring in my ears. I
stop sucking; my body is frozen.

Is she being
serious
? But
what if Brent gets me…

Brent grunts and huffs behind me,
holding my ass like a vise on each cheek. His enormous cock drills into me,
building speed, impaling me with every determined hump. My whole body jolts
forward in time with his relentless fucking. Dark tears of mascara roll down my
flush cheeks. Is he really going to…

But my mind goes blank—lost
in the haze of another climax that pours down my extremities like molten
ecstasy.

I wail as loud as I can with
Jason’s cock lodged in my throat. My pussy quivers around Brent’s cock as his
warm cum fills my insides. My walls squeeze tight in orgasmic spasms, coaxing
the load from his balls in thick spurts.

Jason’s knees begin to quake. His
grip on my jaw tightens and holds my head in place while his hot spunk fills
the very depths of my throat.

I want to gag, but swallow hard
instead. Salty cum continues to jet from his pulsating cock and my tongue laps
along the twitching shaft. Bubbly spit rolls from my lips, down his ball sac.

Our bodies quake together; my holes
accepting their endless streams of cum at both ends until my arms and legs
begin to buckle.

My heart flutters and my limbs give
way. At last, my full weight collapses on the floor in a mess of cum and spit
and fluids.

“Congratulations,” Madeline claps
her hands unenthusiastically, “welcome to Triple Pi.”

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Filled by the General and His Men

I must look pathetic. Here I am
running in this sweltering desert heat--and for what? Because I can't learn to
say 'no' to my boss? Because he takes advantage of me and likes to send me out
to the middle of fucking nowhere? That jerk just wants to keep my career
stagnant like his.

But I take it because I have to.

It's true. Being a journalist means
you're either sucking up or sucking cocks. If it's not your boss's dick then
it's some other dick. In my field, it's usually an agent I have to get through
for an interview.

They're the gatekeepers, and I have
to pay my toll. But if that's what it takes to succeed, then can put it up my
ass for all I care. Lube is optional. I want it
that
bad.

 So long as it's furthering my
career, I'll go down on just about any guy. A quick blowjob under an office
desk while the douchebag bitches to his secretary.

Or maybe just a handy if he's
particularly busy--it's all part of the job description, really.

And nothing
ever
stops me
from getting what I want. A meaningless fuck with a big suit who never got any
in high school--you'd be surprised what a girl with sexy curves can do with a
little ambition

And everything standing in my way
has some sexual desire to exploit. Hell, I'll go down on women too if that's
what they're into. A girl who doesn't mind a little scissor fucking is going
places. 

Both men and women alike can see
what I have to offer. I've pretty much got it going on in all the right places.
Beautiful curves and a luscious ass just begging to be spanked. Big tits
pleading to be fucked. I've got it all, baby.

And most of the time I pride myself
in having such a figure. A rubenesque slut who knows how to carry herself. I'm
totally comfortable in my body.  These curves could stop a man mid-stride.
Hell, in any other situation I regard myself as pretty fucking hot.

Just not when it comes to exerting
myself in this ridiculous, oppressive heat.

But here I am, running my ass off
to catch an appointment like a hot mess. I certainly don't have a habit of
being late, but I can't help moving slower in the desert. The heat fucks with
my head and my sense of time.

It's not all bad, though. Here at
an army base in the middle of all this sand and rock, there's plenty to look
at. Hot Army studs built like marble in every direction.

The guy standing at the front gate
checking my visitor pass is already making me wet.

"General Sanders is over at
tent #23. Go right on through, Ms. Dalia." The guy says, waving me through
the metal gate. He raises a hand to his beret and nods toward me with a cute,
boyish smile.
Mmmm...
He'd be a fun little fuck.

His eyes shift sideways, toward me,
when I pass him and my knees wobble a bit. With eyes fixed on my ass, he gives
a cute little smirk. Enough to bring a girl to her knees just to suck his cock.

And I know just how good I could
make that boy feel. I could lick and tease that cock of his for days if I
wanted. I could keep him on the edge of orgasm just to see the look on his
face.

He'd moan and beg for me to let him
cum. I'd show him what it takes to be a
real
soldier before I let him
shoot his own little soldiers into my mouth.

I'd guzzle his load like an expert
whore, groping his balls and milking the shaft clean of every last drop. And
then if his bunk mates wanted to be next, I'd show each of them what sort of
pleasure I could give.

I'm more than capable of handling
an entire squad.

All these poor guys must not be
getting
any
. Stuck here in this shithole, they must be desperate for a
shapely woman like me to do them a hell of a favor. I consider myself a
patriot, after all.

If duty called, I know what my role
would be--and it involves giving lots of head.

These men are the elite. They
deserve to be treated as such. If I had to be their little cum whore, then so
be it.

If I had to lie spread eagle on a
shoddy bunk in a room full of soldiers while they came all over my body, in my
mouth and in my hair, I'll do what my country demands of me.

Each one of them would get equal
attention. I don't play favorites when it comes to men in service. I would make
sure to slurp up every ounce of their semen like a good slut should. These men
are marines. They deserve the best treatment I can offer.

Then when I am gone and they are
left alone once again, without a single female within a hundred miles, I would
have at least given them one hell of a memory to hold on to in desperate times.
A good source for masturbation on lonely nights.

******

The base looks more like a
campground with all its brown and green tents set out in rows. The wind was
bustling, and many of the front flaps fluttered in the wind. Living here must
be totally brutal.

But these men are tough. Rugged.
True patriots. They live in a hellhole so the rest of us can live in a world of
pleasure and entertainment. Soldiers like these need to feel the warmth of a
busty woman like me.

It doesn't take me long to find
tent #23. Each of the rows of tents have signs like a street would have, and
they're named after famous war battles. The tent where General Sanders is
waiting was on 'Battle of the Bulge'.

I wonder how big Mr. Sanders' bulge
is...

"Good morning, Ms.
Dalia..." General Sanders says, standing up from this office chair to
greet me. When I move into shake his hand, he glances down at his wristwatch.

"S--Sorry I'm late," I
hear myself stutter. The man's presence has me completely flustered. Sanders is
built like a rock. He is tall and broad, with fierce eyes that penetrate and
see through me. "It's not like me to--"

"We'll have to cut this short
by about ten minutes. I have another appointment at O-eight-hundred.
Sharp." His eyes squint a bit, putting emphasis on the last word. Fuck, if
only he knew I wasn't usually like this...

"Yes, right. Well--shall we
get started?" I say, finding an uncomfortable chair with metal legs. The
general's expression is unchanged.

It is evident after only the first
sixty seconds that this was a man of restraint. Of danger--of punctuality. A
man who has seen and been shaped by war. A man I want to feel between my legs.

"
Ahem
General Sanders,
what would you say of the public opinion about your decision to--"

"I don't give a flying fuck
about that," he says, and the tone of his voice makes me jolt. His stare
is cold and dismissive. I take a moment to cross my legs, showing a good bit of
bare thigh, and compose myself again to ask,

"What about the unfortunate
loss of troops last week at--"

"Those men served their
country bravely," he says sharply. The man hasn't blinked once since I sat
down. There's no way the interview can continue this way, or I'm going to leave
with nothing.

 I'm on a mission here, just
as much as any soldier in this camp.

"Look--have I... have I
offended
you in some way?"  I ask. He seems a bit taken aback by my sudden
boldness. He raises his hands in the air, palms facing me, saying,

"Ms. Dalia, I simply don't
have time to waste with people who waste mine." I can't believe this shit.
Ten minutes late and the General has lost all respect for me.

 I'm going to show this dick
that just because I'm not in uniform doesn't mean I'm not ready to serve.

"I can see that we're not
going to get anywhere this way..." My fingertips of glinting red nail
polish caress their way up the side of my thigh and curl beneath my short black
skirt to lift it just a bit higher. "Perhaps there is...
another
way we could go about getting what I need from you."

Sanders shakes his head, as if he had
just heard defiance from a soldier's mouth. But at least I got him to blink.

"Ms. Dalia?"

My tongue darts to one corner of my
mouth, slicking across my upper lip, leaving a wet sheen that glints in the dim
light of the room.

"What if I sucked your cock
right here, right now? Would that move things along in the right
direction?" His eyes go wide.

General Sanders stands up from his
chair with clenched fists, looking indignant. A thick vein bulges on his neck,
pulsing in annoyance at my words.

"Do you mean to disrespect me,
here
, in my own quarters?"

I get up from my chair, taking a
few bold steps toward him. I won't allow myself to be turned down by this man,
powerful as he may be.

"General--you of all people
should know what battles to fight..." I get up close enough to trace an
index finger across his rippling pectoral. His tight green shirt seems to burst
at the seams, stretched by the taut skin beneath. "And this is one I
never
lose."

His brow furrows and his fists
shake at his sides. Before he has a chance to respond, my finger presses
against his puffed lips as if to silence them.

"
Shhh
..." I pinch
the cleft of his chin, saying, "Just
relax
, and let me give you
something you
deserve
."

My hand wraps the nape of his neck
to bring him in close. I press the flat of my tongue against his chin,
sensually licking upward across his lips.

Then our lips connect in a drugging
kiss while a deft hand works at his belt buckle. The fire in his eyes cools and
his eyelids droop shut. A woman like me knows how to tame the fury of a
soldier.

When my fingers dip past the hem of
his camo pants, the General lets out a long, soft moan. Apparently, General
Sanders likes to go commando.

As my hand dives deeper, he seems
to catch himself. His eyes shoot wide and he grips my forearm tight.

"If you start this," he
says with a stern, biting stare, "you'd better be prepared to finish
it." Sanders reaches around my waist to pull me in against the firmness of
his chest. His bulging abdomen feels like steel against my round belly.

"Don't worry, General. I know
how this ends." My fingers wrap delicately around his shaft and give it a
gentle stroke. "The only thing I'm unsure of is if I'll be able to fit
your
whole
cock down my naughty little throat..."

And it
is
enormous. As his
dick grows in my hand, I can tell that getting it all down will be difficult.
Luckily, I'm a girl who enjoys a good challenge.

The General grunts and his head
tilts back when I cup his ball sac, tickling playfully at his scrotum.

A tent is rising in the crotch of
pants like a beast rattling the bars of its cage, waiting to be unleashed. My
other hand moves in to unzip his fly, and his thick, stiff dick springs forth.
It throbs in the softness of my hand, dribbling precum that drips onto the cold
concrete floor.

Getting down on my knees, I guide
the head of his dick to my puckered lips. Staring up at General Sanders through
long, fluttering lashes of dark mascara and deep purple eye shadow, I plant a
soft kiss at the tip.

"
Mmmm
..." I moan, lapping
at the clear fluid dribbling off the end. For such a grizzled sort of man,
General Sanders actually tastes pretty sweet.

I smear his precum around my lips
like a kind of chapstick. My eyes shift, lustfully gazing down at his throbbing
dick.