I grunted because I literally couldn’t speak. But no, Melly wasn’t dressed in a little girl outfit, no plaid jumpers, no frilly dresses with bobby socks and a bow in her hair. Instead, the brunette was wearing a cocktail dress with a bunch of boob showing, complete with four inch stilettos.
And I couldn’t lie, she was so gorgeous, so absolutely delectable.
“You look amazing,” I breathed, cock popping up stiffly in my tux. “Shit you look beautiful.”
Melly tittered as she twirled for me in the front hall, showing off her curves, doing a three-sixty so I could get a complete view.
“You think?” she teased, fluffing out her hair. No pigtails for tonight, although maybe later, she’d put them up just for me, to stoke the fires of her Daddy.
“Absolutely,” I nodded furiously, “absolutely baby girl, you look amazing.”
And Melly winked at me then.
“Well, maybe you’ll like this then,” she cooed, and as I watched, mesmerized, she began pulling up the hem of that skirt. Oh shit, oh shit, those thighs were so thick, so delectable, like huge, juicy ham hocks, and as she pulled the material upwards, I literally stopped breathing as her cunt came into view. Because instead of a sexy lingerie, she’d put on a pair of plain white panties, cotton, virginal and pure except for the fact that they were soaked through at the crotch.
“I thought you’d like it Daddy,” she said, wiggling her hips a bit. “I thought I’d be fun while we were at dinner if you knew I was wearing these. And guess what else?” she said, rotating so that her back side was to me. “Look what else I have?”
And with slow fingers, she pulled the white cotton to the side so that her anus was exposed. Well, not exactly her anus but a little butt plug, one that was tiny, the pink knob jutting out from her asshole, stretching that brown pucker, getting her ready for me.
“Baby, is that for tonight?” I rasped, one eyebrow quirked. “Do you want Daddy to assfuck you tonight?”
“Mmm-hmm,” she smiled coyly once again. “But Mr. Lancaster, I hope you’re not going to wait until we’re home to diddle me. I want you to pop that buttplug out while we’re at the White House, and do me there. What better place?” she asked coyly. “What better place than the White House?”
Because yeah, we’re married now and I’m taking Melly with me to a State Dinner. The ambassador from Kazakhstan is in town, and I’ve been invited to a private meal to discuss oil and gas issues, something about putting a pipeline down to tap their natural resources. It’s bound to be boring, but now that Melly had offered her bottom to me illicitly, suddenly the dinner took on new dimensions.
“You sure?” I growled, palming my cock in one hand, the crotch of my tuxedo pants strained like a tent. “You sure?”
And with another flick of her wrist, Melly flashed that butthole at me once more, the little plug winking and teasing.
“Absolutely,” she whispered. “I want you to own my bottom when you’re talking to the ambassador, I want your dick leaking cum and spurting into me as the President leans forward to listen.”
And I chuckled deep then, reaching for that curvy body, slipping my fingers over the plug, testing its size, how deep it was in her anal canal. Oh yeah, this would work great, and I tweaked it a bit, making her squirm, to cry out in ecstasy, a squeal of “Oh Mr. Lancaster!”
Because this is my life now. The twenty year-old whom I originally hired to be my little is now my new wife. She’s young, she’s horny, she’s a little girl sometimes, and a woman others. Melissa is everything I’ve ever wanted, and our life is cornucopia of variety, every day our play more intense, more wild, with new tweaks, new surprises, new everything.
And today, Melly had surprised me with the buttplug sure, but the biggest surprise was coming. Because as I screwed that plug in a little deeper, I asked the question I knew she’d been waiting to hear.
“And is the baby gonna be okay if I assfuck you hard?” I ground out, dark streaks slashing across my cheeks. “Is he or she going to be traumatized in any way?”
The brunette just laughed then, the giggles rising into a high pitched whine as I screwed the toy in deeper.
“Oh yes, he or she will be fine,” she cooed. “All they’ll know is that their Daddy loves their Mommy,” she said with another sweet smile.
And I grunted then, satisfied, content, and looking forward to the future with anticipation and pride. Because yeah, Melly’s pregnant. My little girl is going to have a baby, swelling up with my seed, my child in that poochy tummy, the woman fertile and round. And you know what? It’s completely right. The brunette started as Daddy’s pretty baby, and now I’m gonna be a Daddy for real – not just to Melly, but to our child too.
THE END
BONUS CHAPTER
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ALSO BY CASSANDRA DEE
Standalones
Beg Me: Sold To My Dad’s Boss
Daddy’s Pretty Baby
Loving the Babysitter
The Sold Series
Sold at the Auction
Virgin for Sale
The Falling Series
Falling for My Dad’s Best Friend
Falling for My Boyfriend’s Dad
Falling for My Son’s Best Friend
The Virgin Series
The Naughty Virgin
The Wicked Virgin
The Dirty Virgin
The Trashy Virgin
Delivering the Virgin
The Double Series
Double Princes
Triple Princes
Double Massive
Double Huge
Double Bang
Double Donkey
DOUBLE PRINCES
A Twin Step Royal Romance
(Erotic Romance, PI, Massive Size, MFM Ménage)
© 2016
By Cassandra Dee
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A SNEAK PEEK
The more we saw of her, the more we liked. Or maybe “saw” is the wrong word, “taste” would be a better descriptor. Because we spent each night sipping at Summer, nuzzling the folds between her legs, licking at her nipples, suckling her clit, losing ourselves in that sweet body.
“Ummm,” murmured the girl, stroking Hayden’s ball sack. “More.”
And my brother and I gave it to her, my twin obligingly squatting over her head so she could suck his testicles, me positioning myself between her legs to run my dick hard into that sweet space.
And it was like this every night and quite a few afternoons too. Because my bro and I are off the reservation at this point, we can’t get enough of the brunette. Summer’s going to be ours no matter what … even if it means giving up our crowns.
PROLOGUE
Summer
“Oh ick,” I murmured, looking down at myself. There was blood on my shirt, just a small red spot at the hem that I’d missed, but still … blood was blood.
My friend Jenny looked over and nodded knowingly.
“No worries,” she consoled me, “just say it’s the sauce from one of the weird things we had at lunch.”
I looked over at her and laughed.
“Okay, but then I’d have to admit that I actually ate that stuff,” I said ruefully, “which is pretty hard to stomach.”
I was referring to the food of Slovania. Their cuisine is typical Eastern European, filled with heavy meat dishes, creamy sauces, and heavily spiced cooked veggies. It would have been an awesome culinary experience if I weren’t a vegetarian but seeing that I was, I was basically subsisting on stale crackers and Slovanian wine, which fortunately is excellent.
Jenny just laughed with me, and I was grateful for her company. My best friend and I were here as volunteer translators, part of a group doi
We’re part of an overseas medical mission called Operation Smile. Doctors and nurses from the United States journey to third world countries to operate on kids with cleft palates, all free of charge. It’s a genius idea. The operation is straightforward and low-risk, and the difference to a child is enormous. Instead of having a gaping hole in their lip, the surgery repairs their palate, making things like swallowing, breathing, and speaking possible. Plus, the child looks normal once again, paving the way for a healthy, productive life. Again, the program was genius and I was honored to be part of the staff.
Well, Jenny and I are sort-of staff. The real staff are the doctors and nurses, Jenny and I were here for college credit, student interns to help with translation from English to Slovanian and back again. Hopefully, our language skills would bridge the gap between the American medical personnel and local doctors learning operating techniques.
But in the meantime, I still had this red spot on my shirt that to my eyes, was unmistakably blood.
“Jen, I’m going to head over to the washroom and try and get this stain out. You know how I feel about this stuff,” I said, wrinkling my nose.
“Oh sure, meet you at the canteen,” she replied. “I’ll save you something good to eat,” she said with a wink.
That only made me sigh again. More likely, there’d be nothing vegetarian and I’d have to resort to another dinner of bread and cooked goat’s milk, which actually wasn’t bad … if you added about ten packets of sugar.
But in the meantime, the stain. Sighing, I strolled into the locker room, checking to make sure no one was there. Our accommodations were Spartan and there was one restroom for the whole crew, male and female. So it was generally a good idea to scope out who was there before doing your business.
Satisfied that the coast was clear, I locked the door and whipped off my t-shirt, leaving my bra on. Unfortunately, the bralet was looking worse for the wear too, the edges a little grimy, the lace sticky and hot. What the hell, it was sweltering and there was no one around. Might as well hand wash that too.
Snapping the clasp, I let the bra slide down my arms and took a deep breath, looking at myself in the mirror. Hmm, brown hair, nice shoulders, and an even nicer rack. Yep, I’m curvy and my crowning jewels are my girls, Double Ds with a pale pink nipples, my boobs creamy and pendulous in the dim light of the bathroom.
But right, that stain. With a frown, I got busy. Blasting the water in the sink, I leaned over and began scrubbing the cotton, pumping soap from the dispenser liberally, lathering up the worn fabric. The spot was getting fainter, more of a light pink than deep red now, but still visible. Gross.
Suddenly, a shower cranked on, the creak loud and unsettling. What the? I’d thought I was alone in the locker room and clasped the wet t-shirt to my breasts nervously, aware that there was someone else here.
Or two someones in this case. Out of nowhere, twin forms appeared around the corner, coming to a halt when they saw me.
“Um, hi,” I said weakly, throwing a smile at Holt and Hayden. Or should I say Doctors Holt and Hayden. While most of the docs and nurses volunteering their time were middle-aged, Holt and Hayden were two recent medical school grads who’d joined the mission at the last minute.
And Jenny and I had practically swooned the first day during introductions. Six four each, with coal-black hair and penetrating blue eyes, the twins looked more like male models than guys with stethoscopes and prescription pads.
“Oh my god, do you think …?” my friend had giggled.
I knew what she was asking.
“No,” I said, “they’d never be interested in us. Come on Jen, guys like that are always taken and besides, they never go for girls like us. We’re round and they probably date model-types.”
“Oh pooh,” Jenny replied with a pout. “Well, you never know,” she said with another giggle, her voice trailing off again.
But since that first day, our paths hadn’t crossed with the men, all of us busy in our respective positions. So it was unexpected to meet … especially like this, topless, clutching a wet t-shirt to my breasts.
“Um, hi,” I stuttered. “I thought no one was in here.”
Holt raised a dark eyebrow.
“I could see why you’d think that, since it’s the middle of the day,” he rumbled. “Not many people shower at lunchtime.”
I flushed, only half-hearing. Both men wore only towels wrapped around their waists, their abs and pecs on display, bronzed like Greek gods come to life. A tremor ran through me, delicious and shivery, my secret space moistening.
“I guess you were going to shower,” I said weakly. “Let me get out of here,” I babbled, pressing the t-shirt to my breasts. “I just need to get this shirt on, hold on.”
But there was no way to put it on without flashing them. So I continued to stand dumbly, staring, taking in the sheer male beauty before me. Carved chests with defined six-packs, plus heavy arms leading to strong, graceful fingers. With their MDs, the twins were the entire package, brains, brawn and looks.
But instead of turning their backs, Hayden did something unexpected.
“Why don’t we help you with that?” he said with a smile. “You’re Summer, right?”
“Um yeah, I’m Summer Miller, an intern,” I said with a weak smile. “My friend and I, we’re here getting college credits for the experience. Translating, I mean. We’re translators,” I said, cursing as I listened to myself. I’d always thought I was a good at my job because of the fluidity of my thoughts, words came naturally to me, but listening to me now you’d think I had a speech impediment.
“Well Summer,” said Holt smoothly. “Why don’t we give you a hand?”
I figured they would toss me an extra t-shirt, maybe turn their backs as I scrambled for a towel, but instead both men approached me, their massive builds consuming my field of vision, making the small space seem even smaller.
“You’ve got blood in your hair,” remarked Hayden, running a hand through the tips of my brunette locks. And sure enough, his fingers came away smudged with red. Oh gross, my stomach started convulsing.
That’s the thing about this particular trip. Although I’m an ace with linguistics, I’m squeamish about cutting people open, and it was tough translating in the operating room, every day a challenge. But now the blood was smeared in my hair and my stomach heaved.
“Uck,” I moaned, suddenly feeling faint. And the twins must have seen the color drain from my face, my legs going weak, because they caught me in their arms.
“Hold up,” murmured one, “we gotcha.”
“Let’s help her rinse that out,” said the other, gently positioning me against his chest.
It felt so good, so right, leaning against a wall of muscle. I was now almost delirious with … what exactly? Definitely nausea, but if I was being honest, there was also arousal at being around these gorgeous men.
And Hayden and Holt were gentle yet powerful. They maneuvered me in front of the sink, bent over at the waist so that they could run warm water through my hair. I was in a daze now, almost a dream.
“God, she’s beautiful,” said one from above me, running his hands through my locks, massaging my scalp.
“Mmm, amazing,” agreed the other.
It felt so good to have those fingers rubbing away the stress that I gave a deep sigh of relaxation, of contentment, only to hear male chuckles above me.
“Maybe we should do more,” suggested a deep voice and sure enough, I felt strong fingers move to my neck next, massaging the tension from the muscles there, going even lower to squeeze my shoulders, rubbing my back. Pure bliss crept over me, like I was floating in a sea of warm goo.
Suddenly, the sink went crazy and water blasted, spraying me in the face, getting in my ears, up my nose, making me choke and sputter.
“Ack!” I gasped, making garbled, incoherent noises. It was the plumbing in this drat Slovanian camp left over from the Cold War era. You never knew if things were going to work, or in this case, over-work. I was now a mess, completely drenched, my eyes closed as I hacked and coughed.
“Poor baby,” growled Holt. “Why don’t we help you out?”
And with that he swept me up into his arms, bringing me over to the showers. The water was still running, pounding onto the cement ground and the door swung closed around the three of us. Suddenly, I realized where I was. In the shower with two gorgeous, nearly-nude men, myself practically naked and soaking wet.
“I shouldn’t be here,” I gasped. “This is so against camp rules.”
The men shared an amused smile.
“But we’re not at camp, baby girl,” growled Hayden. “This is a medical mission for adults, not kids.”
“But still,” I panted, trying to wipe some of the moisture out of my eyes. “I shouldn’t be here.” The spray from the sink must have gone straight up my nose, it tingled and stung, making me snort unattractively again.
But the men chuckled low and deep.
“No worries girlie,” said Holt smoothly. “We’re not going to do anything but get you clean. Besides, you can’t go out there the way you are now,” he added reasonably.
And I looked down at myself. That was true. I looked like a bedraggled mouse at this point, my clothes drenched and hair plastered to my head like a skullcap. With a sigh, I gave in.
“Okay, what then?” I asked nervously. “Do you have an extra towel or something?”
“Extra towel,” chuckled one brother, “we got more than that. We’re going to help you get clean.”
“Get clean?” I gasped. “Wait … what?” I wasn’t exactly at my most articulate, my mouth gaping open with delicious shock.
“Just relax,” growled Holt, “you’re gonna feel good,” and with that, a big hand gently pulled away the shirt that I was still clutching to my chest, revealing my girls, the generous curves like tasty scoops of vanilla ice cream. Immediately, my nipples peaked under their gaze, the rosy buds rising to attention.
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