Six Ways to Sin

by Cassandra Dee

  “Fuck,” he grunted. “Fuck she’s such a butt slut.”

  And with a few more pumps, it was done. Andrew burst within Joanie’s ass, adding his DNA to the mix.

  “Fuuuuuck,” was his low, strangled growl. “Aw shit, my balls are being pumped dry.”

  But there was one person left and I stroked Joanie’s breast as Charlie positioned himself in back of her.

  “You’ve done fifty inches sweetheart,” was my soothing praise. “You’ve done five us already, there’s just one left.”

  Joanie made us proud. Head dropping to the mattress, her hands crept back, pulling those big white cheeks apart to show us the anal gape.

  “Please,” she moaned. “Please, give it to me. I need it.”

  And fuck, it was dirty. Her rim looked a little chafed now, reddened and horny. Plus, it wasn’t like there was semen boiling deep within. She’d been pumped so full that now the hot white was right there at the brim, threatening to spill over.

  And Charlie did it good.

  “Let’s make this little ass slosh,” he rasped. “I wanna see you overflow, baby girl.”

  With one smooth stroke, he did it. It’s like when you stick something into an overfilled bathtub, and the water comes surging out in a wave. But here, it wasn’t water. It was creamy white as Charlie went sliding in. The bubbly swelled from her asshole as he made entrance, dripping down her bottom in smooth white waves.

  “Oh,” Joanie moaned, burying her face in the mattress, big boobies swinging deliciously. “Oh god, my butt is so fucked.”

  “That it is,” agreed Charlie between heavy pants. “That it is, baby girl.”

  And to his credit, he didn’t explode immediately. Maybe it was the extra lube from all the sperm. Or maybe it’s because he’s a better man. Because Charlie actually lasted for a full five minutes, sawing away at her bottom before those balls rose high and tight, releasing deep inside.

  “Ummm,” moaned Joanie ecstatically, anal muscles contracting around him. “Yes, give it to me,” she panted.

  Charlie pumped and pumped like a man on a mission. If she was gonna get pregnant, it was gonna be from this dirty mofo because the guy had liters in his balls, the sticky substance endless.

  But finally, he finished, pulling out, shaft coated in a mix of six men’s sperm. But Charlie’s an asshole because he took it one step further. Not missing a moment, the man plunged his dick into her pussy, squeezing himself into that tight, clamping cunt.

  “Oh!” shrieked Joanie. “Not in my pussy! I’ll get pregnant. Pull out, pull out! Please Mr. Childs, pull out!”

  But do CEOs listen? Especially when their cum guns are pumping like automatic rifles? Hell no. So gripping her hips tight, Charlie thrust in once more, face strained, ab and chest muscles tight with ecstasy.

  “It’s all good,” he managed in a raspy voice. “It’s all good sweetheart. Because my fuck stick’s dipped in the semen of six men. So you’ll get pregnant from all six of us.”

  Yeah, that’s how we roll. We’re depraved motherfuckers, promising to use a girl’s ass as a form of contraception. But there’s always a kicker to our deals because upon seeing that creamy, heaving form, we lost it, and Charlie buried his cock deep into her fertile female form, unable to resist the temptation of teenage pussy.

  What can I say? If I’d been last I would have done the same thing. Joanie was just too good, a dream come true in every way, slutty like a whore. Better than a whore because she’d enjoyed every moment, moaning and juicing, baiting us with those tantalizing curves.

  And shit, after this session, we were blown away. Because the brunette’s sweet. Innocent. Slutty and appetizing, with a creamy body and a willingness to try it all. Smart as a whip, yet naïve too. But one thing was totally clear … the girl was six ways to screwed, and we were about to turn the dial to max.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Joanie

  I don’t know what to think, not really.

  Especially not after checking my bank account.

  Because a new deposit had been made. One hundred and twenty thousand dollars, marked as “bonus pay.”

  Oh my god.

  Just a week ago, I had only thirty bucks in there. No way to make next month’s rent. But it was okay because there was a plan. After my first paycheck, I’d throw myself at my landlord’s feet, begging for mercy while proffering the cash.

  But now, there’s a hundred and seventy thousand dollars staring back at me from my bank account. Fifty thousand from individual encounters, plus the new deposit from our group session in Tucson.

  Oh god.

  It’s enough to pay a year of rent upfront.

  Scratch that. I could easily fork over five or ten years of rent right now.

  I could even go back to school.

  I could get my degree, and start the path to becoming a chemist.

  But instead, here I am on the G6 again.

  But not as a stewardess. Instead, Nick and Charlie are treating me like I belong, a guest instead of the help.

  “Thank you,” I said sweetly as Mr. North brought me a glass of orange juice. He’s probably never served anyone in his life before.

  But the alpha didn’t blink an eye.

  “Of course,” he growled, blue gaze intense. “You must be dehydrated after that work out. We want you to be in tip top shape baby. Help yourself to the refrigerator onboard, there’s plenty of food. You feel tired, take a nap in back,” he rumbled, nodding to the closed door.

  I flushed. The twins and I had already used that mattress, so I was well aware of its presence.

  “Thank you,” I murmured, flashing him a smile over the rim of the glass. “I appreciate it.”

  “No, thank you ,” interjected Mr. Childs. “We want to thank you for your hard work.”

  Because after the incredible session in the conference room, I accompanied the six men back to their house in the desert. It’d been surprising at first.

  “You have a house?” my voice quivered. “All six of you share a home in Tucson?”

  Andrew threw his head back with laughter, eyes quizzical and amused.

  “Yes. Why, is that weird, sweetheart?”

  I didn’t know what to say. It was strange for sure. First, because they could certainly afford six homes. So why buy just one? And second, why would six adult males share a home to begin with? Didn’t they want to live separately?

  But Aaron answered, reading my mind.

  “Think of it like a time share,” he remarked casually. “None of us are in Tucson very often, not even Tom,” he drawled. “Asshole is always in the air, flying here and there. So it made sense to share a home. Plunk down some cash, whoever’s in town uses it.”

  “I’ve only been in Tucson twice this year,” added Damien. “Makes no sense to have a huge house that’s empty.”

  I nodded slowly. Of course. Billionaires don’t waste, it’s how they got rich in the first place.

  “But is it awkward?” I managed on a whisper. “You know … when things get down?”

  Oh god, it was so embarrassing asking this question. But I should have known. Because the alphas weren’t embarrassed at all.

  “Awkward how, sweet thing?” teased Andrew, brows waggling. “You mean do our swords cross?”

  “No!” I gasped. “Well. Maybe, yes?”

  The six men burst out laughing then as we pulled up in front of the mansion. And I do mean mansion. The house was giant, with soaring ceilings and a fountain in front. Imagine that. In the middle of the desert was a burbling fountain, a graceful nymph dancing on one foot.

  “This place costs a fortune to maintain,” said Aaron, shaking his head. “But it’s worth it. We buy what makes us happy, and coming home to this,” he said, gesturing at the stone estate with a sweeping lawn. “Is what makes us happy.”

  But still, there was the question on the tip of my tongue as we made our way inside.

  “But do your swords cross?” I asked tentatively again, almost too
embarrassed to look them in the eye. “I mean, it’s totally fine if they do, no judgment. I just wanted to ask.”

  The alphas were amused, tilting those dark heads back to reveal perfect white smiles.

  “Naw honey. We only get up to no good if there’s a woman around. It takes two X chromosomes to play, none of us are into that man on man shit. Although Aaron wants me, I’m sure,” cracked Nick.

  “Fuck you, asshole,” was Aaron’s retort. “Get that fucking fuck stick out of sight.”

  I nodded. Okay, that was one thing cleared up. So the guys weren’t into any erotic play among themselves, it was all female-centric.

  “But what about the night time situation?” I asked, voice only slightly quavery. “Is there only one bed? Or do you guys have barracks?”

  That one made them dissolve into hearty gusts of laughter.

  “Like Madeline and her friends, twelve little girls with twelve little beds in the dorm? Naw, honey. How many bedrooms do you think this place has?”

  I flushed.

  “No, it’s not that there aren’t enough bedrooms. I mean, yes,” I said miserably, tongue-tied and confused. “I mean no.”

  Charlie took my hand, pressing a kiss to the palm.

  “Sweetheart, we’re not into each other. Trust me. The sperm mixes, but only inside a woman’s beautiful body. If there’s no female, then we’re not interested in seeing one another. At all,” he said with emphasis, looking at the other guys.

  I understood perfectly.

  “So six bedrooms,” I said finally. “There’s six different bedrooms.”

  “For sure,” drawled Tom. “There’s dozens of rooms in this place sweetheart. We’ll even let you pick your own. But choose a suite, baby, because that’s where we’ll be spending most of our time.”

  I nodded, cheeks flushing hotly. Of course. The guys wanted to do me again and again, and the room of the female was where they congregated. So as we traipsed upstairs, I oohed and ahed over all the guest suites, finally settling on one that had an enormous round bed in the center, enough to accommodate all of us.

  “This one,” I pronounced happily, bouncing up and down on the mattress, curves flying. “This one is good.”

  “Perfect choice,” growled Damien.

  “Absolutely on target,” agreed Tom.

  And in a moment, they were on it, six alpha forms, hard and muscular, their cocks pointing my way.

  Did I shiver?

  Did I shriek?

  Did I open myself for them, giving my everything?

  Yes to all three questions. Because it was an unbelievable night, my holes so used, creaming and pumping like mad. I wanted the billionaires desperately. All caution was thrown to the wind as I took six men every which way.

  “Fuck my butt,” came my breathy moan, bent over a table as I held my ass cheeks open. “Put it in big boy.”

  And of course they did, Damien sliding out as Aaron pushed in.

  “Oooh!” was my delighted cry, chin lifting from the hard marble. “Ooooh!”

  And the situation was so dirty, so intense, yet so good. Because I was owned all over that house, my curves belonging to the alphas. We did it on the bed, on the chair in the living room, on the dining room table, and even in the shower. Yes, they have a shower that fits seven people and I was in heaven, letting the hot water stream over my curves as I moaned and bent over, grabbing my ankles.

  “Yes there,” was my breathy gasp. “Oh right there Tom!”

  So on the plane the next day, it was no wonder Nick and Charlie were solicitous of my health, offering orange juice and a place to nap. I’d become their cumbucket, a repository for sperm, squeezing and milking until the six men spurted their all into my creamy holes.

  But now that we were back on the plane, Nick and Charlie seemed ready to go again. My body quivered, already responding to the call of these magnetic, charismatic males.

  But instead, the two alphas leaned back in their seats, blue eyes stroking over my curves.

  “So tell us sweetheart,” rumbled Nick. “What deep secrets do you have to share?”

  I flushed. Did he mean sexually? Had to be.

  “Well, I have looked at porn on my laptop before,” I admitted in a small voice, blushing red as a fire engine. “Not too much, just a little. I was always afraid my mom would burst into my room and catch me. Plus, I heard the government can see everything you look at on the web. So I didn’t want them to see me … well, you know.”

  How in the world did these guys always keep me on my toes? But it was an exciting feeling, like the world sparkled. I’d come alive, every cell in my body alert and sizzling.

  Charlie threw his head back with a smile, displaying even white teeth.

  “Sweetheart, that’s cute. Real cute. It’s been twenty-five years since I lived at home, I forgot what it’s like to duck from your parents, hiding under the covers and such.”

  I blushed.

  “Oh my mom’s just like that,” I confided. “Linda’s always been nosy, she’s continually up in my business. But she’s my best friend,” I added on a second thought. “Always supporting me, even when I was down.”

  The two billionaires looked at me quizzically, big forms sprawled in their seats as the plane zoomed on its way to New York.

  “What do you mean?” drawled Charlie. “When were you down, honey? Why would a pretty girl like you be down?”

  “Oh you,” I swatted a small hand through the air. “I’m not pretty, I’m just me,” came my teasing voice. “But I’m glad you see it that way because I’ve been tormented about my size in the past.” Here my voice lowered until it was just a whisper, barely audible.

  Both billionaires’ brows quirked.

  “Your size honey? You’re perfect as is,” drawled Nick. “Fuck, if you put on twenty more pounds you’d look even better. It takes a lot of poundage to handle six men you know. Thin girls don’t hold up so good, they tend to collapse if there’s no cushion.”

  Holy cow, I had no idea, and my eyes went round.

  “Really?” came my tentative voice. “My extra makes it a little easier?”

  Nick’s eyes seized mine.

  “Not just easier,” he said smoothly. “Better. We need our girls healthy because it’s six on one, honey. How many females can really take six alphas, in and out, again and again? That’s why we like girls who eat. We like our females well-fed with strong appetites, it’s the only way,” he shrugged.

  Wow. These revelations were astonishing. I’ve always had a love hate relationship with my curves. Looking at magazines made me feel bad, the models airbrushed until they looked about to disappear. Linda would see me looking at the pages, and take my hand.

  “Don’t even look,” my mom would console me. “This isn’t real. Real men like some extra to grab and squeeze.”

  Who knew that Linda would be right? Not just right but absolutely hitting the bull’s eye. Because these alphas were the ultimate validation. The billionaires had already enjoyed me several times, stroking my curves sensuously while releasing non-stop, pumping me full of sperm.

  “My mom always told me guys like generous handfuls. I’m glad it’s true,” I said shyly.

  Both billionaires smiled then, eyes gleaming.

  “What else did your mom tell you little girl?” drawled Charlie. “What else should we know?”

  I took a deep breath. Because the thing is I only have a few deep, dark secrets. And it’s been tough facing my fears, staring them in the eye until they back down.

  “Well, remember how I said my mom has always been a source of support, my best friend?” I asked slowly.

  The alphas nodded.

  “Sure,” drawled Nick. “You’re her baby. Of course she’d love you.”

  I nodded, hesitantly.

  “Well, my adolescent years were rough. More than rough. I got teased a lot about my weight,” I confided, unable to look into their eyes.

  Nick and Charlie were ruthless.

  “A
ssholes,” spat Nick.

  “Total fuckwads,” said Charlie dismissively. “Probably just a bunch of jealous bitches.”

  I nodded.

  “It was that, for sure,” came my acknowledgment. “But there was even more. Because the teasing was so relentless that in ninth grade, I punched Norman Pierce while sitting on his chest,” was my low murmur.

  “So?” asked Charlie. “I would have done the same. I would have run him over with my car actually,” he added reflectively.

  I nodded gratefully.

  “It was bad because I didn’t punch him just once,” was my hesitant admission. “I punched him over and over again, knocking out a couple teeth. We had to pay for his dental bill.”

  But the billionaires didn’t give an inch.

  “Good for you sweetheart,” ground out Nick. “That boy deserved it if he was calling you names.”

  My nod came again. But the worst part hadn’t come yet.

  “They called me names for sure. All sorts of terrible things. The Whale. Shamu. The Titanic. All sorts of hurtful epithets and I guess I just couldn’t take it anymore. Norman was so tiny, about half my size, so I pushed him down and sat on his chest, punching him again and again. I cried as I did it,” came my small voice. “He hurt me with his insults.”

  But again, these men were on my side one hundred percent.

  “Good,” rasped Nick. “You gotta cause some pain to teach certain people a lesson,” he shrugged. “Because some people never learn. They never stop.”

  “Yeah,” agreed Charlie. “I’ve done the same thing before,” he said, throwing me a wink. “Worse even because I put my aggressors into the hospital.”

  That made me feel better, for sure. So I took a deep breath and told my deepest darkest secret, one that made me feel bad even now.

  “Well the thing is that everyone knew what I’d done to Norman. I’d punched his lights out while sitting on his chest. And unfortunately, he developed asthma a couple months later, probably from allergies. But people blamed it on me. They said I squashed him so hard that the asthma was my fault,” was my agonized confession.