His Filthy Game

by Cassandra Dee

As we went further and further into the woods, the vegetation grew denser, sounds muffled, the party fading into the distance. I thought country clubs were known for their manicured grounds but I guess once you go off course, they let nature take over and we were basically in the forest now, trees everywhere, not able to see more than five feet in front of us.

  Suddenly, we burst into a glen and there was a girl standing there. Or more accurately, she was lying on the ground, her dress a mess of material around her, hair filled with twigs.

  “Oh my god!” she squealed, covering her breasts with her arms, “who are you? What are you doing here?” she asked, trying to turn away from us, shielding her body from our gaze.

  Because we were staring. The girl was amazing to look at, and my brother and I have seen a lot of naked females. She was a little thin, sure, but her boobs were big, bouncy Double D’s, and her legs were long and shapely, her dress pulled up around her waist, showing off those creamy thighs. Her hair was spread out on the ground like a blanket, filled with grass like she’d been rolling around.

  But what the hell was she doing, rolling around on the ground in the woods half-naked? Was this some kind of weird fetish, Red Riding Hood gone wild? At least there was no one else in sight, the girl all alone on her patch of grass, sunlight gleaming off those limbs.

  “What the?” growled Pax. And I could tell he was hungry already, not bothering to hide his stiffie. We hadn’t been with a girl in at least a week and it’s not every day that you come upon a hot chick looking like a succulent nymph.

  “What are you doing out here?” she gasped in reply. “I thought I was alone. The party’s back there,” she said, jerking her chin in the direction of the wedding.

  “Yeah, we know,” I drawled, looking at her with amused eyes. Man, her furious efforts to pull down her skirt were futile, that thing was way too tight and she couldn’t get it over those luscious hips while lying on the ground. “Need some help?” I added, my eyebrows raised.

  That caused the girl to blush furiously, it was so cute, pink spreading all over her bosom, her boobs heaving even faster. And whaddya know, her struggles intensified, only causing her dress to drop lower, the strapless material falling away to reveal pale pink nipples, pointed and ready to be kissed.

  Because I had a massive boner. This woman was grade A+ and I was ready to get down. There was still another hour of milling around, so-called “cocktail hour” until the ceremony actually started, and blowing my load would be just the way to pass the time.

  “I was … I was …” the girl sputtered, still writhing on the forest floor.

  She didn’t get out a sentence before my bro and I were on either side of her, our massive builds towering, casting shadows over that nubile, female form. Her eyes opened wide with apprehension, as if taking in our cocks for the first time.

  Because she’d sat up and our stiffies were just about face-level … or more accurately, mouth-level. Our dongs poked out at her ruthlessly through our tux pants, one on each side, almost jabbing her in the cheeks, brushing against that velvety smoothness. Her mouth dropped open automatically, and what do you know, but it was so perfect, that round “O”, that perfect pink pout, our shafts so near. How would it feel? Would she be able to suck with the best, accept our cocks deep, stretch wide and take two?

  And she was on the same wavelength because all of a sudden, her eyes grew ravenous, her boobs heaving quickly, her breathing rapidly accelerating. And were my eyes deceiving me or did she suddenly wiggle her hips, like her cunny had just shivered and given her the go?

  My instincts were spot on. The girl wanted us and her eyes suddenly looked at us wide-eyed, accepting her fate.

  “That’s right, little girl,” rumbled my brother, a big hand reaching out to caress her hair, those dirty blonde locks tumbling over her smooth shoulders, her dress now completely dropping away to sag at her waist, those big gazongas bare to our gaze. Her nips were hard as rocks, they could cut glass, pointy and sticking out like the prow of a ship, begging to be sucked.

  But my twin and I weren’t there to suck … at least not just yet. Instead, we were here to be sucked and the girl’s cheeks were already hollowing, anticipating our need.

  “That’s a good girl,” I grunted, my big hand tracing over that smooth hair as well. “Get it out,” I commanded.

  And with trembling hands, the blonde obeyed. With a small, soft hand, she reached up and undid my waistband, slowly undoing the zip until my cock popped out, almost hitting her in the face.

  “Ohhhhh,” came her whisper, a look of shock in her eyes, her mouth literally dropping with amazement and open hunger.

  Because I’m fifteen inches and today was no exception. I’m a monster and my dick is my weapon. Girl after girl has struggled with it, hopelessly humping against it, desperate to get it however they can, their mouth, their puss, their hiney, anywhere to make them feel good. And even better … there are two.

  Because Pax had whipped out his cock as well, his donkey dong bouncing off the girl’s cheek, and that boner was at full mast, a hard vein pumping along the top, his balls raised and ready to shoot. Fuck, this girl had done us good and she hadn’t even touched us yet, we were ready to cover her in sperm.

  And the woman was a natural. Getting up onto her knees, she reached for a cock in each hand, her eyes filled with wonder, those boobs trembling as she stroked and squeezed our shafts. I threw my head back, my eyes closed and groaned as she massaged my fuckpole, feeling that soft hand move up and down my rod again and again, milking me, exploring every contour, pumping me like a machine as the tension built.

  And without warning, the little girl leaned forward and took my dick in her mouth, enveloping me in that hot, warm cavern, her lips stretching to caress my width. She sipped the tip at first, her eyes looking up at me with a question, and I was ruthless. I fucked my hips forward with no mercy and she opened in response. It always works. Don’t let up, that’s how a girl realizes she can do fifteen inches.

  But we were far from done yet. With her other hand on my brother’s shaft, the blonde angled her head slightly and began sucking more of my dong in, the massive steel disappearing into her mouth inch by inch, swallowing like a python. I could tell she was struggling, her eyes closed in concentration, breathing rhythmically through her nose as she worked, the length visibly moving down her throat.

  And I practically gave it up right then, it’s so amazing to see a girl on her knees in front of you, nude, sucking your dick without abandon, loving it, eating it up, all the while jacking off your brother.

  But Pax is one dirty fucker and he wasn’t going to be happy with just a hand job.

  “Turn around,” he grunted.

  The girl’s eyes flew open. Was he commanding her to suck him instead? She started pulling off my dick, getting ready to do another man, my veiny length retreating from her throat, inch after inch pulling out, slick and shiny with saliva.

  But I wasn’t about to give it up either. I wanted to blow, and erupting in this girl’s mouth was exactly what I needed to make it through a boring wedding. So I let her pull out until only an inch or two was left in her mouth and then seized her head so she couldn’t move, immobilized.

  Her eyes flew up at me questioningly. How would she suck my brother if she was sucking me? But the answer was coming.

  Pax angled his hips until he was in front of her face as well, and pushed his dickhead up against that rosy mouth, his glans nudging against the corner of those pink lips, insisting entry.

  “Ummph!” squealed the girl, her exclamation muffled by my dick. “Umph! Umph?”

  I knew what she was asking. How could this be happening? Two dicks in one small mouth? But it was true … we were doing it, no holds barred.

  Slowly but surely, her mouth opened and my bro’s dick found its way in until she was sucking both our heads at once, her mouth double-stuffed with pure penis power. And it was obscene and wrong but totally amazing. It felt so good, seeing her cheeks full
, and I didn’t need much more.

  I started moving in her mouth, my brother too, our strokes coordinated so that I pushed in as he pulled out, our cockpoles like clockwork, covered in saliva and pre-cum, the gooey mix streaming down her chin to drop onto those luscious breasts heaving with exertion, her little mouth used to the max yet hungry for more.

  And after a few good pulls I blew my load, filling the little girl with hot, virile sperm, pumping man juice into her oral cavity, the excess spilling from her mouth, pooling around her knees.

  And then my twin did the same, his semen spurting with hot jets, mixing with mine in that little throat as the girl swallowed furiously, drinking with everything she was worth, swallowing with audible gulps as if reluctant to waste a single drop.

  And even after we finished pumping, the girl kept sucking, determined to drain us dry, squeezing our balls down below, milking us to the last tasty drop. She was into it, moaning, her eyes fluttering closed, those big boobs still heaving, and damn but if there wasn’t a wet spot under her cunny on the ground. She’d creamed as she’d sucked and her little pussy had spurted juice, that female nectar aromatic, musky to our nostrils.

  Finally, with a last lap at our dickheads, the little girl pulled off, licking her lips to savor the final droplets of semen, her eyes teasing as she sat back, tucking herself back into her dress.

  “You taste good,” she said with a sultry sigh, and immediately the tingle started in my ball sack again, our dicks springing back to life. Thirty inches was coming her way … again.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Stacey

  The wedding planning had been seriously weird. First of all, my mom didn’t know the name of her future stepsons.

  “What do you mean, you don’t know?” I asked, puzzled. “They’re going to be related to you, how could you not know?”

  My mom sat back at her desk. As usual, she was working again and her face was weary with a grayish cast. This was bad, considering that her wedding was in three days.

  “Ana, I just can’t remember at this moment,” she said with a sigh. “I’ve been so busy and Gordon told me, but I can’t remember.”

  “How many conversations have you had with Gordon?” I asked, my eyes disbelieving, still unable to accept that my mom was so disconnected from what should be the biggest day of her life. “How could you not know? Has he never mentioned them?”

  “Of course he’s mentioned them, we talk about you guys a lot,” she said with another sigh. “Stacey, you’ll never understand, this deal has taken so much of my time lately, I haven’t been able to focus on much else recently.”

  And that was definitely true because instead of my mom planning her wedding, I was doing it for her. I’d called the Union League Club out on Long Island and asked for a rush job, could they spare their ballroom and outdoor space this weekend? We’d been lucky. No one had booked the venue and we were good to go. Of course, this was costing a ton of money, you always pay through the nose for last minute deals, but that was fine. Virginia could afford it.

  “But Mom,” I said. “We’re printing the materials for the ceremony, what am I supposed to put down for the boys? Just say “Gordon’s sons”? This is so awkward.”

  My mom shrugged.

  “Just leave it out,” she replied. “Mr. Gordon Jones, groom, and his sons. No need for names.”

  This was going to be the weirdest wedding program ever, but okay. Maybe if we got gold leaf for the paper, no one would notice the lack of detail on the program.

  But this was seriously inconvenient. Because not only were we missing significant information, but I wouldn’t be able to google my new brothers, stalk them on-line. Everyone’s connected with Facebook and LinkedIn these days, but you have to at least know their names. It’s pretty tough to randomly google around and hit the jackpot.

  Suddenly, my mom piped up.

  “I do remember one thing,” she said slowly, cocking her head to the side as if thinking hard. “His sons are twins.”

  Hmm, identical or fraternal? My mom probably had no idea so I immediately began googling again. Damn it. “Jones” and “twins” and “White Plains” still turned up nothing. I needed first names.

  But my mom was useless.

  “I’m sorry honey,” she sighed. “I just can’t remember. But they’re nice boys, Gordy said they were really athletic, maybe wrestlers? Or soccer players? I’m sorry baby, this deal has drained me.”

  I shook my head silently from my seat on the bed, the laptop glare reflecting on my face. Well, at least Virginia brought in the big bucks for how hard she worked.

  “How about my new school?” I asked. “Do you know the name of that?”

  My mom shook her head miserably.

  “Ana, right now I just can’t. This transaction is about to close, it’s a six billion dollar deal. Could you ask me in the morning?”

  I heaved a sigh of exasperation but let it slide. It was just Mom being Mom again. With a sigh I got up, snapping my laptop shut, picking up the cord.

  “Remember we have the wedding dress fitting tomorrow, you need to be there,” I warned.

  “Oh don’t worry honey,” she said, looking up quickly. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I asked the tailor to come to my office, it’s easier that way, we can do it right in my office.”

  That was smart actually, otherwise my busy mom would probably blow-off her own appointment. And in fact, I had an idea.

  Running into my room, I came back with a long garment bag.

  “Mom, do you think you could ask the tailor to hem this dress tomorrow?” I asked, pulling off the cover to reveal a long, pink gown. It was gorgeous, floor length, made of a filmy chiffon with a strapless bodice and demure waist sash.

  “Oh honey, it’s beautiful,” praised Virginia. “Is this your maid of honor dress?”

  “It is,” I said, pleased with myself while looking it over again. It was modest with just a hint of sexiness, perfect for a daytime event. “It’s just a little too long, so if you could ask them to take off three inches at the bottom, that’d be perfect.”

  “Sure baby, I’ll ask them tomorrow,” said Virginia.

  But that was the problem. When I pulled out the dress the next day, it’d been transformed into a mini-dress.

  “What happened?” I gasped. “I said take off three inches, not three feet!” I wailed.

  “Honey, I’m so sorry,” apologized Virginia. “I think it still looks okay,” she added hesitantly.

  “No it doesn’t!” I cried, looking at myself in the mirror. What had previously been classy and elegant was now indecently short, the hem at the tops of my thighs. If I bent over, you could even see the tiniest bit of underwear.

  But my mom just tsked.

  “Baby, don’t worry, the dress looks better this way,” she soothed. “You’re so tall, no one will notice.”

  “What are you talking about?” I said plaintively. “The problem is that I’m so tall. All you see are miles of skin now, if I were shorter, this dress would still be a decent length,” I wailed. “I’m going to be humiliated. I can’t wear this.”

  My mom stood by, her mouth pursed, looking miserable.

  “Here,” she said, taking the veil off her head. “Maybe if we drape this material around your waist, it’ll cover a little more,” she began.

  “Mom no!” I said pitifully. “That’s your wedding veil, I can’t steal your veil on your wedding day, that’s so inappropriate.”

  “Honey, I don’t mind,” she rushed. “Here, doesn’t that look nice?” she asked hopefully, turning me to look in the mirror.

  And I looked at myself with dismay. Virginia was no artist and the gauzy veil was wrapped around my legs awkwardly, looking like a giant filmy band-aid.

  “No Mom,” I said miserably, unwinding it from my lower half. “Here, it’s yours, I’m just going to have to walk down the aisle in this outfit.”

  “I swear honey, you look good, no one will even notice anything’s wro
ng,” she said. “No one knew that it was supposed to be long,” she called after me as I ran off.

  But I couldn’t be consoled. It was so embarrassing, practically looking like a hooker at my own mom’s wedding, and I ducked out the service door to get outside. I didn’t want anyone seeing me and figured I’d make a last minute entrance, stepping out onto the grass when the wedding march began. No sense in going out a second sooner, it was better to avoid as much humiliation as possible.

  In the meantime, out in the parking lot the sun beat down on my head, stray cigarette butts under my heels. Gross. Instead, I moved towards the woods on the side, resolving I’d stand in the shade and hide out until the ceremony began.

  Furtively, I spied on the guests. The country club was filled with people, no one whom I recognized. There wasn’t much to say about the crowd except that they looked rich. Like dripping with dollars rich, fur stoles, expensive watches, swilling liquor like there was no tomorrow. Definitely my mom’s clients.

  But two guys did catch my eye. In fact they caught every woman’s eye, our bodies running with heat, cunnies growing damp. The men were identical twins, visible even from a distance, tall and dominant. Six four at least, with black hair that seemed to absorb light and imposing builds, pure male animals moving with athletic grace.

  I watched, blushing, as they came closer to my edge of the woods, shrinking further behind a tree. Damn, these leaves were loud and I cursed the fall foliage for making leaves crispy, crackling static. My shoes weren’t helping either as I tried to step gingerly, stay as silent as a mouse.

  But the men drew nearer, oblivious to my secret place. I couldn’t hear what they were saying but the rumble of their voices was audible, a low growl that set my female instincts on fire. Damn, having those voices murmuring dirty words in my ear? In my dreams, I sighed.

  The men moved closer and closer, drinks in their hands, and I saw that they had deep blue eyes and identical clefts in their chins. They almost caught a glimpse of me and I ducked behind a tree again, my breath catching. Oh shit. The crackle of twigs under my stupid heels was ridiculously loud and the men turned my way, heads swiveling, blue eyes taking in everything.