Oh yeah.
Could she see how fat I was, massive and ready to take?
Could she see the wet glans, how my pole dripped with lust?
Suddenly, Mason coughed beside me, and I whipped my dick back into my pants. Oh yeah, the motherfucker was dying of laughter, even if his own rod begged to make an entrance. That tent at his crotch was just as bad as mine, if not worse.
So yeah, I put it back in. Enough had been done already. After all, I pulled my dick out and stroked it during someone else’s wedding, right in front of a crowd of onlookers. Sure, no one could see because we stood a particular angle that blocked the view. But still. It was fucked-up. It was my best friend’s wedding, and I’d been a sick motherfucker.
But it was worth it because that one act made the sweet girl’s eyes go round, her face flushing, pink pout forming a round “O” of shock. Was it wrong? Hell yeah. Triple X dirty? You bet. Happening again? For sure, times three.
Because Mason and Kane want in on the game too. We’re fucked-up assholes, guys who go at it three on one, owning females left and right. And here, in tiny Knox? There was only one brunette who fit the bill, who could possibly satisfy us all. And fortunately or unfortunately for the beautiful bridesmaid … her time was up.
CHAPTER THREE
Kane
Aw shit, Tyler’s so fucking disgusting. Pulling out your dong during a wedding ceremony? Showing it in its full glory as people are getting married? Doing it at the wedding of our buddy, no less, Bobby Winkle from childhood?
But Tyler’s just like that. Hell, Mason and I are like that too. Because shit, I would have done the same if I’d been standing where he was positioned. Fucker was turned so that no one could see except us and the beautiful brunette. And then that fuckpole came out, hard and glistening, as he smiled lasciviously at the girl.
But I don’t blame him. Because the chick was a sight for sore eyes. Gorgeous as all get-out, with tits out to there, and a huge, lush ass. Oh yeah, that sassy butt was enormous, the material of her dress stretched so tight that the seams were practically splitting on her precious crack. Let it split, I prayed. Let her have a wardrobe malfunction right here so that I can get a glimpse of that creamy goodness.
No such luck though. Her outfit was ugly as fuck, but it held together, squeezing her curves tight, emphasizing that hourglass figure. Shit, you could have put her in a gunnysack and she would have been fucking unstoppable.
So yeah, Tyler went balls to the wall, and pulled out his dong to tease and tantalize the innocent bridesmaid. And she was innocent for sure. As we stood there in front of the minister, her eyes literally grew wide as saucers, a sharp inhale causing those big boobies to lift in the air, begging to be kissed.
My dick jerked sharply then, straining against the zip painfully. And fuck, but a choked growl escaped my throat, forcing Tyler to stuff it back in immediately as people turned to make sure I was okay. Nothing to see, folks, keep moving. Yeah, right. More like we were in for a NC-17 show, straight out of the gutter.
But that’s just how us dudes roll. We’ve been friends since fourth grade, ever since Mason stood up for poor Bobby during a particularly nasty game of kickball. Even back then, Bobby was pudgy and overweight, one of those guys who’s always sweaty. And when a ball hit him straight in the face courtesy of one of the older boys, Mason went for it. Or more accurately, we all jumped into the melee, fists flying, amateur boxers all.
And sure, those boys were older than us. But it didn’t mean that they knew how to fight. Because me and my bros are assholes all around, and we’re not above doing some serious damage. So yeah, the fists came out, a couple cuts and tears, and pretty soon, the neighborhood bullies went running, scared shitless and screaming.
That was the beginning of the Four Musketeers. Me, Tyler, and Mason, plus Bobby, our mascot. During college, we’d been inseparable, roaming campus together and making trouble. These are my bros. One for all, and all for one.
But a few years after college, Bobby went on leave. Or more accurately, he left to follow his dreams. The man’s always been into politics, so when the opportunity to work for the Governor of Tennessee came along, Bobby jumped.
And surprisingly, he’s done well. The sweating pinkness that’s always defined him works well in politics. The bumbling persona comes off as genuine, his stammer is the mark of an “everyman,” and lo and behold, but our buddy is mayor of a tiny town in Tennessee now.
As for the rest of us, life’s taken a huge U. We were bad students. Worse than bad, more like barely graduating. But Mason, Tyler and I made it out alive, and somehow, everything fell into place after that.
I’m now the CEO of a restaurant empire. Mario Batali? That dude’s got nothing on me. A hundred and seventy restaurants are on our roster, more opening each year. Plus, we’re in talks to start our own Food Network channel. Not a show on the Food Network, but actually a channel in and of itself, hosting chefs, cooking shows, you name it, we got it.
Tyler’s an investor at an international bank with offices all over the world. Billions flow through his hands each day, and more than a few folks have called him the next Warren Buffett. Lucky bastard because he’s got the dough but doesn’t have to live in Omaha.
Mason’s the CEO of his own construction company, responsible for building new high-rises and office buildings in major cities all over the world. Dude lives in a penthouse seventy stories about Central Park. And guess what? He built the place to his specs, down to every last detail.
So yeah, we’re all captains of industry. Money rolls in waves, and there’s nothing out of reach. Influence, women, business deals, everything can be bought, at least in a city like New York.
So none of us can understand why Bobby chose to move to this tiny town in Tennessee. Why would you limit yourself? But against all odds, he’s done well, becoming the mayor of this place. So what if it’s population one thousand? So what if the people are mostly senior citizens, doddering up and down Main Street on canes? He’s still the mayor, and it’s just a first step. Pretty soon, Bobby’s gonna be running this fucking zoo. Soon homeboy’s gonna be in the Senate or even the White House, politics come so easy to him.
But still, this wedding. Shit, Mason, Tyler and I just flew in thirty minutes ago, and it was already a drag. Boring as all fuck. Organ music that sounded like monkeys screeching. Ladies who were skinny as scarecrows, like walking clothes hangers. Not attractive. Not by a long shot.
Because heavy girls have always been my kryptonite. Give me a pair of thick thighs, a generous D-cup and a bit of cushion for the pushin’, and I’m in heaven. Sure, models and actresses always throw themselves at me, but they’re just not my size. Cameras do funny things, and girls who look relatively normal in magazines are fucking tiny in real life. Like bobble head dolls, except you’re afraid their brain is gonna come disconnected and roll off during dinner. It’s bad, real bad.
But hey, I’ve never been one to turn down free pussy. So yeah, we let them have it. It’s not like there’s a vow of celibacy or something, and more often, the girls throw themselves at us, and not the other way around. Hell, there were even those who begged for the triple team. That’s right, three dicks at once, filling all their holes. Depraved? Fuck yeah. But satisfying as hell? Definitely, especially for the female plugged tight everywhere. In fact, they usually came back a second time begging for more, offering their bodies, writhing and mewling. So why not? Consenting adults all around.
But now, this godforsaken wedding. One look at Elaine and I was immediately turned off. There’s a radar called the bitch switch, and shit, but the blonde switched that switch ON. Even with an angelic face and perfect Barbie-like blonde hair, this girl has a bad personality. Like a spoiled, whiny persona, the-world-revolves-around-me attitude. There just ain’t time for that where I come from. In our world, the Earth circles around us, not any female.
But shit, surprises can happen anywhere, anytime. Because a beautiful brunette stepped into the church
last, when I’d given up hope altogether. She was the last bridesmaid, ripe and luscious, with a shy smile and innocent brown eyes. And shit, that figure. Yeah, the female busted out everywhere, my dick jerking as I took in those luscious tits, the giant Kim Kardashian ass. What would it feel like to be cushioned between those butt cheeks? To run my pole horizontally first, enjoying the sweaty rub before pushing it into her ass? Hell, I had to know.
But first, this ceremony. Like a dog, Tyler pulled it out and flashed the girl. My man, you’re my hero. A real fuckin’ stud, wish I’d done the same. But it was all over in a couple seconds, and then we were onto the reception.
“Yo guys,” I grunted, once the crowd had dispersed. “Ready to go?”
Mason and Tyler knew exactly what I was talking about. In fact, their packages were pretty huge still, straining at their morning suits.
“Absolutely,” grunted Mason.
“Fuck yeah,” swore Tyler. “Shit, I’m gonna burst.”
And like that it was on. As we entered the reception area, our eyes found her, bodies immediately on alert. She was innocent and pure, a lamb waiting to be led to the slaughter, trembling and compliant. And as if in a movie, the brunette’s head turned as we entered, immediately connecting with our gazes. Hell yeah. She knew. The female wasn’t innocent, she wanted us as much as we wanted her.
Grabbing a drink, the three of us made our way over to the gorgeous girl.
“Hey,” I grunted. “Nice to meet you. I’m Kane.”
But before the woman could say anything, another bridesmaid pushed her way in front of us, cooing and preening.
“Hi, I’m Stacy,” she purred, one hand messily sloshing a champagne glass. “You are?”
I eyed her amused.
“Like I said, I’m Kane,” came my deep growl. “And this here is Mason and Tyler.”
“Oh right!” exclaimed the pushy bridesmaid. “You were the ones who just flew in. Was it exciting?” her voice lowered conspiratorially. “I heard one of you, and I’m not saying who,” she singsonged, “has a private jet!”
Right. This woman was already eyeing us greedily, licking her lips thinking about getting on our plane. Fuck no, bitch. That thing is precious, and you’re not getting a ride come hell or high water.
So instead, Mason rumbled casually.
“Lots of people in NYC have private planes,” he growled. “But not everyone has a G-6 like us.”
The bridesmaid almost fainted then, her face literally going sheet white as her eyes bulged.
“A G-6?” she gasped. “Like in the song?”
“Like in the song,” grunted Tyler, nodding darkly. “Exactly like in the song.”
And shit, but the woman literally swooned then, collapsing on the ground in a pile of poof. It was hysterical, to be honest. The combination of plane, plus too much champagne, plus weighing about ninety pounds did her in, and she fell to the side, head landing on the floor with a thunk.
Immediately we bent over to help. But the sweet brunette beat us to it.
“Kacey,” she said urgently, cradling the woman’s head between her hands. “Wake up! It’s okay, it’s okay. Quick, get me some water,” she said urgently.
Magically, a glass appeared, and the brunette held it to this Kacey’s lips.
“Drink,” she commanded her friend. “Drink up Kacey, all that alcohol on an empty stomach isn’t good for you.”
And slowly, the three of us knelt so that we surrounded the brunette, our massive bodies closing in. It was a little weird with an unconscious girl at our feet, but she was gonna be okay. A little food in her stomach, and little time, and she’d revive.
Besides, it was the first moment of privacy we had with our brunette. The world shrank until it was just her and us, people milling around in a blur behind our backs.
“Hey,” I rumbled. “Good thinking with the water. I’m Kane, by the way.”
And the girl looked back at us, brown eyes wide, breasts heaving, even as her friend started blinking and coming to.
“I’m Katie,” she murmured, a flush spreading down her breasts. “I – I –“ she stammered.
My smile grew broader.
“No need for introductions right at this moment, sweet thing,” came Tyler’s growl. “Because we just have one question for you. Did you like what you saw?”
Immediately the girl blushed. Because it was obvious what Tyler was referring to. His dick, out and proud during the ceremony, ready to do damage to this beautiful female’s pussy. And right now, the three of us were crouched around her in a tight circle, the bulges in our pants unmistakable.
Katie licked her lips, eyes going wide as she took in the sight. Her breasts heaved under that ugly green dress, the outlines of her nips visible beneath the thin fabric. What would they feel like in my mouth? Hard, yet luscious? What would her twat taste like, leaking against my tongue?
The brunette was shy, but again, weddings do strange things to women. Because hormones go crazy in this environment, and the girl flushed again beautifully before biting her lip, those big brown eyes wide yet excited.
“Yes, I liked it,” she murmured, eyes cast down. But then she looked up quickly, taking us all in. “Is there more? I- I mean with all of you?” she whispered shyly, stammering a bit.
And oh shit, but we were done for. Because this little girl was the answer to our dreams. We’d come to Nowhere USA expecting the worst, prepared to be bored out of our minds. In fact, the jet was refueling right now, ready to whisk us back to the excitement of big city life.
But instead, everything turned on a dime. A curvy, innocent girl had just admitted to craving dick, and not just one dick, but three. Although she hadn’t said so explicitly, her body was already reacting, a warm, hungry cunt smell rising in the air between us, her nips likes rocks beneath the dress.
So hell yeah, we’re gonna stay. We’re gonna stay in this godforsaken town. We’re gonna find out what this sweet female has to give … and take everything, until she’s screaming and moaning, bent over with no place to go.
CHAPTER FOUR
Katie
Oh my god, was our secret safe?
Did they see Tyler pop his dick out during the ceremony?
Did they see how I eyed it hungrily?
Because I wasn’t expecting much from this wedding. After Elaine’s shit fit, I figured I’d stumble down the aisle, smile frozenly during the vows, and then go to the reception and be merry. A normal level of merry, not weird and drunken.
But suddenly, the world was different. Regular Katie, the old me, is level headed. I’m the one who’s always the designated driver, the one people make fun of because I set a hard stop a two drinks per night.
But suddenly, the world seemed like it was full of magic and endless possibilities. A golden glow limned everything, making each object shine. Even regular people like Elaine’s Aunt Ida seemed out of a fairytale, her glasses sparkling mysteriously, that tightly curled white hair snowy and pristine.
It’s the influence of the groomsmen, Tyler, Kane and Mason. I know it deep in my bones, the certainty permeating my being. The three of them have transformed everything, making even the mundane extraordinary.
Because Tyler, Kane and Mason are hands-down gorgeous, putting all the other guys to shame. And it wasn’t their thousand dollar suits. It was them, full stop. Tall and commanding, with bronzed skin and penetrating blue eyes that made me go liquid deep inside. Builds that were straight out of a muscle mag with broad shoulders and deep chests, narrowing to a vee. The three of them were male model perfect, except they weren’t male models at all.
Because male models are twenty-one year old beanpoles, guys who have cereal for brains. By contrast, these dudes are titans of industry, people who have so much money that it simply didn’t matter anymore. Bobby had mentioned a little in passing. The Virgin Islands? Please, these folks had their own private islands. Gstaad? They owned a slope in the Austrian Alps. And as for this wedding, Tyler, Mason and Kane had a
llegedly flown in on a private plane, just the three of them in the cabin.
So I was out of my comfort zone for sure. Because no one’s ever been interested in me. My hair’s too frizzy, the brown curls puffing up like a poodle sometimes. And I can’t find anything to wear, the shops only have stuff for girls who are half my size. So yeah, either I’m dressed like a grandma or a nun, take your pick.
But for some reason, these guys found me attractive. Despite the fugly green dress, their eyes were glued to my form the entire ceremony. And when Tyler popped his cock out? I almost dropped to my knees right then, begging him for a taste, saliva heavy in my mouth.
So when they surrounded me during cocktail hour, it’d been all I could do not to offer myself then. I wanted to rip off my dress and spread my legs, cooing and beckoning, urging them to use my body.
But no, this made no sense. This is me, Katie Evans, boring girl. Not just dull, but a twenty-two year-old virgin. It’s crazy, I know. Most girls lose their virginity at fourteen, but here I am, a whole eight years older, and still intact. I’ve never had a man in there, not penis, not fingers, not anything. I’ve never even pushed a toy in. Sure, the vibrator rubs against my clit, making me scream and juice, but there’s no penetration. I guess being a romantic at heart, the thought of long, hard, live dick being my first makes my heart thump with anticipation.
But now it was time for the wedding dinner. Suddenly, reality came crashing down. Oh god, oh god. Of course, as members of the wedding party, we were seated at the same round table, strewn with flowers and crystal.
But instead of feeling relaxed and happy, nervous energy gnawed at me from the inside. Why oh why did I have to be wearing this hideous dress? Why was it such a gross-looking shade of green, making my skin look sallow? Why would Tyler, Mason and Kane be interested in me, anyways? Wouldn’t they rather have a model or actress? Or just someone thin?
Six Ways to Sin Page 36
