Beg Me: Sold to My Dad's Boss

by Cassandra Dee

  “Good thinking,” he growled, bending his head to nuzzle at my breast, the edge of the nylon fabric just preventing him from accessing my boobs. “Let’s see what you’ve got here,” he continued hungrily, and with a teasing, tantalizing move, pulled the string of my bikini slowly, undoing it, pulling off that pink ruffled fabric.

  And judging from his expression, I’ve never been so happy as to have natural Double Ds. They’ve been a pain in the past because sometimes I get back aches, and they make certain outfits look ridiculous as if I were Jessica Rabbit in heat.

  But right now, my boobs were full, luscious, the dark pink nips doing me proud. They were erect, standing stiffly in the cool air, and Blake wasted no time in descending on them, suckling the pink into his mouth, rolling the tip around like it was the tastiest piece of candy he’d ever had.

  “Ohhh,” I moaned, tossing my head, “mmmm.”

  And the big man continued, circling the nub with his tongue, slowly making concentric circles until he’d consumed all of my breast flesh before moving to the other side to do more of the same, suckling hard this time, pulling the hard, sensitive meat against his palate as I writhed and cried out beneath him.

  But he was dirtier than I imagined. While suckling, he pulled my hand up to my own breast, directing me to cup my jug.

  “Taste,” he commanded.

  “What?” I gasped. It felt so good when he did it, but he wanted to do it to myself now?

  Blake nodded. “I like seeing my girls taste themselves … everywhere,” he said.

  And with a trembling hand, I lifted my mound to my mouth, tentatively licking the point. It was wet, and hard, and … I dunno, good, I guess. It clearly turned Blake on because he watched with rapt eyes as I licked my own tit, that huge mound pressed to my face.

  And I started to get into it, never breaking eye contact with the big man, smiling at him as I suckled, massaging my boob, getting into it by rolling the pink a bit before starting up a flat-tongued lave.

  “Now both knockers,” he commanded and I gasped again. But I understood exactly what he wanted this time.

  With my other hand, I lifted my left breast to my mouth, licking this one as well, savoring it, trailing my tongue over my sensitive areola, moaning a bit as I massaged both jugs at once, even slavering a bit, letting my saliva coat my pink nubs with the glossiest, most tantalizing wetness.

  Holding both Double D’s up, I pushed both nipples into my mouth at once, the creamy flesh pendulous and succulent, practically slipping out of my grip. It was fucking dirty and I loved it, feeling twin jets of sensation shoot straight from my nips to my cunt, my little twat getting wet and dirty because of my self-play.

  And Blake ate it up. He had his dick out now, his pants unzipped, the huge purple member jutting out as he stroked it firmly, pulling off the head with slight popping sounds, growling as he gazed at me with ravenous eyes.

  And it only spurred me on further, knowing that I had a man in my hands, ready to do my bidding like putty.

  “Kiss me down there,” I said. “I want to feel you tongue me,” I nodded to my creaming snatch.

  The big man was before me on his knees in a flash, his mouth open and panting as he scrabbled furiously at my bikini bottoms. I don’t shave, but I make sure to trim and my landing strip was a mini-rectangle, cute and beckoning. With a moan, Blake dove between my lips, burrowing his tongue into my slit.

  “Oohhh!” I squealed, lifting up from my nips. It felt so good to have a man there, to have him sample my female cream, my cunt lips dripping wetly, a trail running down my thigh I was so turned on. Blake was a master – he pulled apart my labia, revealing my little clit standing to attention, and circled it with his tongue before beginning a suck, the jets of sensation making my legs go weak as he devoured the nub of flesh.

  Then he pulled my nether lips apart even wider to look straight up my cunt, enjoying the view of ruby rose insides, the walls wet with need and want.

  “My dick goes there,” he growled, before diving in to lick my inner channel, hungrily kissing my puss, making me squeal with desire. “But I’m not sure it’s going to fit.”

  “Oh it’ll fit,” I gasped. At least I hoped it would, I prayed silently to myself. I’d seen that dong and it was godawful huge but I looked forward to the challenge, I wanted it in me, wanted to be impaled, to feel the commanding presence of a big dick deep in my vag.

  To get me prepped, Blake slipped a finger in me, first one, then two, letting me sigh and moan, tossing my head in ecstasy as he rubbed my pussy walls, stretching me out.

  “Fuck you’re a slut,” he said while nuzzling my clit with his tongue, his fingers still pounding me. And I guess I was. I was nude now except for those high heels, a man’s fingers buried in my cunt as I toyed with my own breasts.

  I was just about to cream on his hand, my pussy going into little throes of pre-spasms when suddenly a clapping sound penetrated the clouds, another deep, low laugh intruding on my senses.

  “Huh?” I asked, half-dazed, turning my head, sure that my mind was playing tricks.

  But it wasn’t my imagination because just inside the door stood Bryan, applauding, watching avidly even as he let out a deep-throated chuckle.

  “Room for another?” he asked, his member already at full-bore, and I could do nothing because my pussy was clenching … tight, tight, tight as I came hard on Blake’s hand.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Bryan

  The girl was beautiful to watch as she orgasmed. Her body was all luscious curves and jiggling flesh as she lost herself to the mini-death, her eyes rolling up in her head a bit as my brother stroked her cunt, his hand buried in her soft folds.

  And my twin was fucking near the edge as well, I could see his donkey dong from where I stood, the mast fully erect, glistening and glossy with saliva. Or wait, shit that wasn’t saliva, there was just so much pre-cum that it was literally dripping down his pole, coating his balls, even running down his thighs.

  And I didn’t blame him. Callie was intriguing and smart, just the kind of girl that we like to romp with. Unfortunately we have to do bimbos as part of our job as undercover cops, building up our cover. But sex on the clock is just that. It’s just a job, and the girls were usually dirty and nasty, the kind of ho you’re praying doesn’t have some kind of weird disease.

  So meeting someone like Callie … god, it was amazing, a welcome breath of fresh air. She’d been so innocent in class, fainting because of that cat, and the interactions we’d had in the intervening week only proved that she was a woman of quality.

  Because one of the things about this particular assignment was that we knew the perpetrators were likely college-bound kids, as one of the victims had gotten into Harvard early admission. So we couldn’t exactly be taking remedial classes, Blake and I had to socialize with the so-called “smart crowd,” the kids who actually had the grades to get into Ivy League schools.

  But that’s the awesome thing about being twenty-five … we’d already graduated from high school and even the advanced classes were cakewalk for us. Not that the material was useful in any sense of the word, life on the beat was a thousand times more educational, but these kids would find that out for themselves.

  So we were in a ton of our classes with our favorite girl, and without her nincompoop of a friend Chrissy. I appreciated the blonde, for sure, she was outgoing and seemed to host a lot of parties, but frankly … there was nothing going on in that airhead.

  During English, I’d seated myself near Callie, the better to get to know her and do some investigating at the same time.

  “So Callie,” I said nonchalantly. “You look like you could be a cheerleader,” I’d winked. “Did you know Brian Adams? We heard he was a great guy, what happened to the football team after he died?”

  Callie had grown quiet at the mention of Adams’ name.

  “I’m not sure what you mean,” she said. “I mean, I’m not a cheerleader but we all knew Brian. Most of us have go
ne to school together since kindergarten,” she clarified.

  Oh right, in these ritzy neighborhoods all the kids knew each other practically since they were babies, born with silver spoons in their mouths.

  “But Brian was always nice to me,” continued Callie. “I started in this district in third grade on scholarship, and I think it was the Adams’ money that made it possible. I’m not sure of course,” she said hastily. “The board never said which donor sponsored my seat, but I think it was Mr. and Mrs. Adams.”

  “Was there anything extraordinary about their son’s death?” I’d asked gently. “Were you close to the Adams? How were they after their son died?”

  She looked down at her hands, not answering at first. “The Adams were devastated,” she confided in a quiet voice. “Nicer people I never knew, and Brian was a good son. No one could understand how it happened. An asthma attack during practice that got out of control, and suddenly poof! He was gone.”

  Oh, so that’s how people were playing it. Brian had had an unexpected medical emergency which took his life.

  “But didn’t someone try to revive him? Weren’t their coaches and trainers who were skilled in CPR, knew how to help a kid who’s struggling to breathe?”

  Callie shrugged her shoulders sadly.

  “I don’t know,” she said quietly. “I just heard that he went into spasms, was frothing at the mouth, and there was nothing anyone could do. He was gone within minutes.”

  Okay, that part sounded right. When people overdose on drugs, it’s often a nasty sight with flailing limbs, uncontrolled spasms, crossed eyes, you get the picture. Not like dying peacefully in your sleep at all.

  “So was there an investigation?” I asked. “Was anyone held responsible? Did the coroner do an inquiry?”

  But I’d gone too far.

  Callie eyed me suspiciously. “Why? What is this to you? You didn’t even know Brian and now all these questions?” She turned her face away, looking out the window pensively. I gave her credit for that. She’d been friends with these kids since grade school and now a stranger was here, asking all sorts of intrusive questions.

  “Listen, I’m sorry,” I said, backing off immediately. “It’s just that Canterdale is such an awesome place, people have been really nice to my brother and I since we arrived. We’re used to people not giving a shit, you know what I mean? So we want to get to know this school better, the history of the place, what matters to the folks here, that kind of thing.”

  I could tell that she wasn’t completely buying my explanation but it appeased her somewhat.

  “Well, Brian and Tyler were great guys,” she said softly. “They were in this class and as a matter of fact, you’re sitting in Tyler’s seat now.”

  Well, well, well, what a coincidence.

  “I think I’m using his books in fact,” I confided, holding up a copy of The Catcher in the Rye. “Look,” I said, opening up the inside cover. And sure enough, printed on an old-fashioned check-out card was the name “Tyler Needham, Period 3.”

  “Crazy huh?” I said, as Callie’s face turned white.

  “They shouldn’t have given you his book,” she said stiffly, not meeting my eyes. “Those were his things, I don’t know, they should have burned them or something.”

  “Callie honey,” I said gently. “These things didn’t belong to Tyler, they belong to the school district and there’s no sense in wasting perfectly readable books. Besides, I don’t mind. I didn’t know the kid and there’s no harm in re-reading Catcher in the Rye, it’s an amazing piece of work.”

  “You’ve read it before?” she said swiftly, her eyes turned to me inquisitively, sharp and assessing. “Where did you say you went to school again? I thought you said you’d transferred from a low-performing school in Queens.”

  Oh shit! I’d almost blown my cover. Hastily, I tried to make things right.

  “That’s right,” I rumbled, “Blake and I are from New York, and not the nice part. But you know us,” I shrugged. “No one cared what we did, so we had a lot of free time and did some reading on our own.”

  And Callie smiled then. “I had a feeling you guys know a lot more than you let on,” she said warmly. “You’re so … educated and perceptive, you know what I mean? You noticed that I was feeling faint before anyone else did.”

  And I was relieved to be going back to the dead cat because it was safe territory after nearly giving myself away.

  “That cat,” I snorted. “Listen, you wanna catch up on the dissection this weekend? Grimes says the new animal is ready, we can come in anytime Sunday.”

  Callie flushed. “Sure,” she said, “I need to do the make-up. But you’re coming to Chrissy’s party on Friday right? She made me promise to get you guys to come,” she confessed. “It’s so embarrassing, I’m sorry.”

  I just laughed. “Yeah, Chrissy’s only mentioned it to us a hundred times already. But no worries, you’ll look great in a swimsuit,” I’d chuckled, looking over her figure appreciatively.

  And the girl had flushed, ducking her head shyly even as her breasts quivered with pleasure. But I was gazing at her nude form now, that swimsuit on the floor of the bedroom, discarded in pieces as my brother kissed her cunt, the creaminess rising to the fore as she spasmed … with her eyes locked on mine.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Callie

  Oh my god. Oh my god. I could barely think as my body shook, my insides pulsing, the cream spurting wetly around Blake’s hand. Because he’d finger-fucked me to ecstasy as I cried out in pleasure, screaming as my boobs trembled and jiggled, doing their own little dance.

  But it had only gotten more raunchy because Bryan was here too. Somehow Bryan had finagled his way into the master bedroom and stared at us now, pumping his dick while his twin fingered me to heaven.

  “Blake!” I screamed. “Bryan!” I shrieked.

  “Mmmm, little girl, say my name again,” said the man between my legs. And with a lascivious grin, he lifted his head, wiping his mouth of wet cream as I continued to shake, the shivers only subsiding slightly with each passing moment.

  With a soft sucking sound, he pulled his fingers out and put them to his nose. Inhaling deeply with his eyes closed, he murmured, “Wet cunny, fuck yeah.”

  But Bryan wasn’t about to be left out.

  “A taste brother?” he asked, kneeling next to Blake on the bed. And never taking his eyes from mine, he began to suck his brother’s fingers, sampling my pussy liquid, licking between each finger to savor as much as possible.

  And was it my imagination or was the licking fucked up in a gay sense? I mean, both these males were so alpha, so straight, so hetero, that it was a little weird to see Bryan licking Blake’s fingers, even if it was my juice he was tasting.

  But my instincts were right. Blake moaned as his brother made love to his fingers and ran his free hand through his twin’s hair, caressing his scalp.

  “We’ve been waiting,” he grunted softly. “Where have you been?”

  Bryan paused momentarily. “You fucker,” he said softly. “You left me with that blonde girl, I practically had to kick her ass to get away.”

  That made Blake chuckle. “That’s right, the real treat was up here. Left the door unlocked for you.”

  “I know baby, I know,” said Bryan softly before leaning forward for a kiss, locking lips with his twin.

  And this is when I screamed. My eyes were practically bugging out of my head now, I could hardly believe what was happening.

  “You’re brothers!” I shrieked. “Twins even! What the fuck are you doing?”

  The men broke off the kiss, but only momentarily, turning to look at me with devious eyes.

  “What does it look like we’re doing?” said Blake deeply, his eyes mischievous and dark with lust. “We’re about to fuck.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Callie

  And that was my plunge into the mysterious world of twincest. I’d never imagined it, not even in my raunchiest moments. Sure,
I’d thought of being pummeled by two men, a dirty MFM ménage where I took dick in my mouth and dick in my puss at once, but I’d never imagined it with brothers … much less twins who also serviced each other.

  Because it was clear that this was a two-way street. Most of the time I was the main course, both men focused on my pleasure. But Blake and Bryan. God, they had some ways of taking it up the ass that I’d never even dreamed of.

  “Unnf,” grunted Bryan one day as Blake pummeled him from behind.

  I watched raptly, seated on the couch in their trailer. Both men were kneeling on the shag rug, Bryan bent over as his brother stuffed a toy in his anus. And I don’t mean just any toy. I mean a ten-inch dong, the black shaft dry as bone, ridged for whose pleasure, I wasn’t sure.

  But I loved seeing it. I loved seeing these alpha males, their bodies masculine, hard, muscular, fucking each other, their little anuses violated again and again. And I’d done my share of violating as well.

  “Give it to me,” I commanded, getting up from the sofa. I was dressed in nothing but a mask and high heels, my boobs and cunt on full display, the wetness streaming like a river from between my legs.

  “Yes Mistress,” groaned Blake, obediently placing the black dildo in my hand. And I licked it. That’s right, what had just been in Bryan’s ass, I tasted, savoring the musky butt smell, disgusting but a turn on as well.

  Salivating as much as I could, I lubed it up and then pressed the handle into Bryan’s mouth, the man still nude on his fours on the living room shag rug.

  “Now insert it into my vag,” I commanded, lifting one leg, baring my cunny so that my pinkness was on display, the slit dripping wet.

  And like a slave, he crawled over, the dildo gleaming and used. With a soft nudge, he pushed it into my cunt with his lips and tongue, making sure to aim right for my little hole just so. And reader, it felt so good, getting stretched that way, having two live dicks on call while getting fucked by a third plastic one.