by Jess Bentley
“Come on, man,” Tom teases him. “We know you can get her going! Put your back into it!”
Stan chuckles. “Yeah, we've all seen you bring a girl to life. Focus!”
“Fuck off,” Hank says, ripping at the cord twice more before giving up. He chucks the chainsaw onto the pile of weeds. A surprised family of rodents scurries out from underneath.
“Looks like somebody needs a another session with our fairytale princess,” Tom chuckles. “Let off a little steam, eh?”
Hank sucks his teeth. He walks over to the barn and turns around, crossing his arms and leaning against it, glaring at each of us.
“You guys are really serious about her, are you?” he finally says. “Can we talk about this for a second?”
Tom looks affronted. “We are talking about it? Where is this coming from?”
Stan shrugs. “She says she’s serious, if that helps.”
“Oh yeah?” Charlie asks, suddenly curious. “Did she say something?”
Stan nods slowly. He looks Hank up and down, measuring him out.
“She's a grown woman, Hank. She seems to know her mind pretty well.”
“Yeah, but what did she say, exactly?” Tom persists.
“She said she wants to be here. She says she wants to hang out… you know. With us.”
“All of us?” I ask.
Stan nods.
“Like, literally? You asked her again? You explained to her how we are?”
Stan raises his hands and lets them fall so that his palms slap against his thighs. “What, you guys want a written transcript or something? Yes. I asked her. Yes. She's down. She's totally on board.”
“Or so she says,” Hank rolls his eyes.
“Isn’t that the way with anybody?” Stan says. “I mean, she's not a prisoner. She could change her mind at any time, yes. So you got to be nice, Hank. I mean, give it a try, why don't you?”
“I am nice,” Stan mutters.
“Nice and sarcastic,” Tom continues for him.
“Nice and cranky,” I pipe in.
“Oh, fuck you guys,” Hank replies. “You're the ones who messed up that whole situation with Mandy, aren't you? Like I'm going to take your word for anything.”
“Hey!” Tom objects.
“That's not their fault,” Stan says, stepping between us to bring the peace again. “Nobody saw that coming. I don't even know if Mandy saw it coming. And whatever happens with Vanessa… well, that's gonna happen. But you can't let your shitty attitude cut everything off before it even has a chance to take root, Hank.”
Hank mutters something under his breath I can't hear, something sullen.
“If you want to keep this family together,” Stan continues, “we gotta work at it. All of us, you know what I mean? That's what we talked about.”
Hank digs his toe into the dirt.
“You hear me? Say you hear me,” Stan insists.
Hank sighs, blowing his cheeks up and rolling his eyes.
“Fine, I hear you,” he finally says. “If she says she's down, maybe she really is. We'll see. Not like she's had anybody's dick in her yet. Not too late to cut her loose.”
“Now you’re talking!” Charlie laughs. “That's the real test, isn't it?”
Stan laughs into his hand. “Yeah, that's definitely the real test. Five dicks? I call that a test.”
“So let's ask her to dinner,” I suggest.
Tom glances at me, nodding immediately. He comes shoulder to shoulder with me so we can face them all.
“Yeah,” he continues my thought, “let’s invite the little princess to dinner. Find out what she's really made of.”
“I'm telling you, she says she wants it,” Stan shrugs. “Hank? Charlie? You ready?”
“Yeah, invite her to dinner,” Charlie says. “I'm dying to get a little slice of the pie, to tell you the truth.”
We all stare at Hank, waiting for him to agree. He pretends like he doesn't see us watching him and pushes himself up to standing then starts walking away.
“Invite her to dinner,” he calls out as he walks past the lifeless chainsaw toward the barn door. “I guess if we’re all in, might as well go all in.”
Chapter 12
Vanessa
My stomach is tight as I walk up the steps of the guys’ house. My footsteps are loud and boomy on the floorboards, and I try to step lightly to be more subtle.
Charlie must've heard me. He comes to the screen door and swings it open, grinning broadly.
“You look nice,” he smiles, dropping a kiss on to my cheek as I cross the threshold.
“Um, thanks,” I answer nervously, blushing all the way up to my eyes.
“Yeah, gorgeous,” Tom — no, that's Tim with the eyebrow — agrees, stepping into the front hallway. Right behind him come Tom, Hank, and Stan. All five of them line up shoulder to shoulder, nodding and smiling as they look me over from top to bottom. I just stand there, bouncing lightly on my toes, letting them inspect me. Having all their eyes on me at once thrills me completely, gets me more hot and bothered every second.
“I hope you're hungry,” Tom says in a low, dangerous murmur.
“Starved,” I answer pointedly, not breaking his gaze.
If they think they're going to embarrass me by flirting, I'll show them. I'm not backing down.
“Ha! She's got your number,” Stan jokes, pushing the back of Tom's head. “Want to offer the lady a drink?”
“Definitely!”
Tom rushes off and the rest of us shuffle into the dining room. Charlie pulls out a chair for me and I sit down primly, inhaling the savory aromas of the bowls in front of me.
“This looks like Thanksgiving,” I sigh happily. “What did you guys make?”
“Oh, the usual… a couple of chickens, stuffing, mashed potatoes… roasted carrots, green beans, cornbread…”
“The usual?” I marvel. The sight of it is making my mouth water. And the sight of Tim carving a brown skinned slice of chicken and laying it on my plate makes my mouth water even more.
“Gosh, thank you,” I gush. “You don't have to serve me —”
“— let him,” Stan insists, covering my hand with his again. I shiver automatically at his touch. His eyes are intense, boring into mine. I feel like there's more to the phrase let him than just getting a plateful of dinner.
“Let's have a toast,” Charlie announces, sliding a tray of glasses onto the table. The drinks are passed around and I lift one up, noting that it's the same apple wine that meant so much trouble on the first day.
“What should we toast to?” I ask.
Stan raises his glass high. “To our fairytale princess,” he announces. “May all her dreams come true.”
“Hear hear!” the guys shout, swigging their wine.
I take a healthy gulp, noting how the warmth instantly explodes inside my chest. It's like magic, settling my nerves and loosening me up automatically.
“It really does feel like a fairytale,” I marvel, looking around at everybody's smiling, chewing faces.
They gobble down their food, little dribbles of gravy and butter on their chins, licking their fingers with delight. Every few seconds, I catch someone eyeing me hungrily, staring at the shadow triangle between my breasts, trying to see where my thighs meet as I cross my legs under the table.
It's like they never leave me alone. Someone's always looking. Someone's always checking me out or sizing me up. Someone's always sighing or grunting in my direction. I have never had this much attention, nor sustained it for so long. I feel like a movie star.
They talk among themselves about the farm and about the harvest that's coming up. Charlie rattles off some numbers and statistics, and everybody nods as though they know what it means. I sort of understand that he's estimating sales figures and they sound impressive, but I have nothing to compare it to.
Still, I feel like they're really letting me in on their family secrets, assuming that I'm comfortable with the inner workings of their
business. I love the way they let their guard down in front of me, even while maintaining their manners. It's nice.
I have a few bites left on my plate when I notice they've all stopped eating. They’re watching me, waiting. I cut into the chicken with my knife and my fork, slowly chewing each morsel and swallowing, drawing it out. I almost want to laugh at their eager expressions, like a litter of puppies waiting for a treat.
Finally I set my knife and fork down, crossing them at the top of my plate.
“That was delicious, thank you,” I say in a low voice.
They all lean in, hungrily looking me over.
The last sip of apple wine glimmers in the bottom of my glass and I bring it up to my lips, tipping my head back to let the sweet taste dribble down the back of my tongue.
“What should we do now?” I ask innocently.
Stan clears his throat. “It’s entirely up to you, princess.”
I take a moment to think. This is my last chance to run away, I know. Last chance to call it off. Do I want to?
No way.
Standing up from the table, I feel my thighs are already sticky and damp, my panties already wet from just the thought of them. Just having them look at me like this gets me more excited than anyone’s ever made me.
“Come on, boys,” I sigh and walk out of the room. I hear their chairs scraping as they all stand up and the sound of them shouldering against each other as they follow me toward the den in the back of the house. Slowly I walk into the middle of the room, arching my back as I unbutton the front of my dress. I let it slide from my shoulders and gather around my waist as they rush into the room behind me, then crowd toward the sofa.
“Jesus, you're beautiful,” Charlie says, sighing as he settles back on the sofa. I stand in front of them, letting my dress slide over my hips then fall to the floor. In just my panties, I feel like I'm on stage. Their eyes hungrily scour every inch of me.
“You’re sweet, Charlie,” I smile. “You want to go first?”
He nods fiercely.
“Actually… should we rock paper scissors for it?” Tom suggests.
“Don't be stupid,” Tim scoffs. “She's not the last beer or something.”
“I think it should be the lady’s choice,” Stan insists. “Right? Vanessa? You should pick.”
“You'll all get your chance,” I assure them. I sway back and forth, moving my hips slowly, swiveling, watching the way their eyes track every subtle twist. “But since I've never done this before —”
“Wait, what?” Hank says. “You've never done what before?”
I hold my hands out. “This. Any of this.”
They all look at each other, their expressions ranging from shock to fear.
“Maybe we shouldn't —”
“Oh yes we should!”
“But then won't she —”
“No, wait, this is perfect!”
“Stop!”
Stan stands up, holding his hands out.
“Stop, hold on just a second, guys,” he says breathlessly. He turns to me, his eyes keen. “Vanessa… are you telling me you’re a virgin? Seriously?”
My arms wrap around my middle self-consciously. “Is this a problem?”
“No, it's just…”
He clenches his jaw. After thinking about it for a few seconds, he nods as though he has formatted a plan.
“Tim, Tom… you guys get her warmed up. Charlie, eat her pussy.”
“Yes, sir!”
Suddenly there's a flurry of activity. Jeans are dropping to the floor, T-shirts being flung over the back of chairs. In seconds, they're all naked, cocks hard and heavy and ready. Tim and Tom sit next to each other and hold out a hand to me, indicating a space between them on the sofa.
“Come on, darlin'. Let's get you ready to go.”
“Ready to go?” I repeat nervously as I kneel on the sofa, flipping over and nestling between the big fluffy cushions. Tim and Tom sidle up on either side of me, their hands drifting over my belly, finding the clasp in the front of my bra and setting my breasts free. Tom cups my tit firmly in his hand, drawing the nipple up with his teeth and winking.
“Yeah, we want you ready. We want you ready for all of us,” Tim explains.
I moan as they each take over one side of me. Swirling their tongues in circles, they spiral from my nipples over my breasts to my armpits, over and over, nipping and biting as they knead the flesh in their hands.
Just as I submit to those feelings, Charlie and Stan slide my panties over my hips, gently exposing me. I sense my knees being pushed apart. Stan holds one knee as Charlie kneels closer, sucking at the tender skin on the inside of my thigh. I feel my pussy lips swelling and sliding together as my juices begin to pour out of me.
“That's it, girl,” Stan says. “Just let it happen. Let us take care of you.”
I feel like I'm riding in one of those storybook pleasure barges, the kind with all the cushions and attendants and servants waving palm fronds. Every part of my body is being touched at once. Charlie dips his head, his tongue tracing over the seam between my lips.
“Oh my God, you're delicious,” he sighs, and I feel his breath brushing against my skin.
He opens me with his thumbs, plunging his tongue into the pink parts, sliding the tip of his tongue around, making me wriggle and moan. Slowly his tongue circles me, darting curiously against my hole, then retracting and flickering against my clit. Back and forth he goes, a little deeper into me every time, then retreating and tickling my clit again until I'm past the point of sanity, wriggling and twisting and pushing forward to feel more.
“Yeah, baby, come for me!” Charlie says, his voice muffled by my pussy lips.
My body explodes, clenching, releasing a stream of juices that covers his cheek. When he rises, I see the golden fluid dripping off his chin, just like the apple wine.
“I think she's ready,” Stan says.
I'm not sure that I am, but I trust his opinion. Charlie nods, shuffling forward on his knees with his cock in his hand. Stan and Hank hold my thighs open, kneading my muscles, watching intently as Tim and Tom continue suckling and massaging my tits.
At first it feels like it won't fit. It feels even thicker than I thought it looked, but Charlie leans forward, balancing his weight on his hand as he guides himself past my opening, pushing slightly until it almost hurts, then retreating. He pushes again, deeper this time.
“Oh, oh,” I hear myself groan as my body is opened, explored for the first time. I wiggle my hips, trying to guide him along my secret passage. With every millimeter that he breaches, I want a millimeter more.
“Fuck, yeah, that feels amazing,” he grunts, his eyes half closed.
“Hurry up, Charlie,” Tom says with my tit still in his mouth. “I'm gonna bust a nut over here!”
“Yeah, yeah, ohhhhh,” Charlie says, grabbing both my thighs in his hands and squeezing, squeezing until I almost cry out. He pushes up harder, arching his back and groaning loudly before he slides out.
I feel his come inside me, dribbling out and sliding down my ass crack. It puddles on the leather cushion below me as Tom releases my breast and climbs over me.
“My turn,” he grunts. “Okay, princess?”
My pussy clenches, suddenly feeling empty, knowing there's more.
“Yes, please,” I groan, wanting to be filled again.
I'm tight all over again as he tries to get inside me. I remember his cock is thicker, but I didn't expected to feel like the first time. He's insistent, though, angling back and forth, finally curving his thick member deep into me.
“You are doing it, baby girl,” Stan coos, close to my ear. His tongue flutters against my earlobe, sending chills through my core. “Take his cock, baby. Take it all.”
I open my legs further, somehow miraculously making room for more of Tom's hard dick. He bounces against me, his hips slapping against the back of my thighs. He thrusts and moans in time. Then he comes, bellowing like a bear, slapping the couch c
ushion in a show of restraint.
“Now Tim,” I say, realizing that this may be a much harder feat that I thought it was going to be. Three more? It seems impossible.
But Tim is slightly different than Tom. He's angled the other way and fits inside me with just a little twist. I feel like I'm being explored like a secret cave, mapped out like new terrain. Tim rolls his hips in circles, diving in enthusiastically to the lush pools made by his brothers’ cum. It's sloppy and surreal, but somehow perfect. Luxurious and extravagant.
“Hang in there, princess,” Stan tells me.
His fingers drift across my belly and tickle my hips. I feel his fingertips sliding across my pubic hair and burying themselves in my sopping wet lips as Tim continues to pound against me. He pinches my clit lightly, sending sparks through the middle of me. Playing me like a violin, he vibrates my pearl while Tim plows me, bringing me to a screeching orgasm at the same time as his brother.
I barely have time to catch my breath before Hank appears over me, stroking my hair.
“You with us, Vanessa? You doing okay?”
“I love it,” I nod. “It's amazing!”
He smiles. “I'm glad to hear it. Would you mind rolling over for me?”
I try wiggling, but my hips feel weird, stretched out.
“Nevermind, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “Let me do that for you.”
I feel his arm slip beneath me as he pulls me toward the edge of the couch and then deftly flips me over. I land on my belly with my legs spread and he positions himself right behind me. His hips slide over my ass, which is wet and sticky. I feel his dick between my ass cheeks, sliding up and down.
“Wait, no… I don't want to, um,” I object, trying to wiggle away. He's far too close to my asshole, and I'm not sure if I want to do that.
“You’ll give me your ass eventually,” he whispers in my ear from behind, making me shudder. It's half threat, half promise. “But not today. We’ll all get your ass. We want all of you, understand?”
I nod silently. I can already feel his dick moving into my pussy, his hand reaching around the front.
“Oh, yeah… you feel that? All of that?”
“Yeah, I feel it!” I nod, my voice thick. From this angle, there's so much more. His fingers pinch and massage my clit while his cock plunges the depths of me. The sensation is so intense, feel like I'm going to come again.
