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Cocky AF: A Secret Baby Forbidden Romance

Page 24

by Katie Ford


  Our woman loves it. Throwing those brown curls back, the female moans once more.

  “Unnh,” comes her pant, rocking back and forth on my joystick. “Oh oh oh yeah!”

  A warm rush of cunt fluid slides over my stomach then, wet and nasty. Oh yeah, that juice is like Niagara Falls, there’s so much that I’m not sure what to do for a sec. Grab a towel? Open my mouth and let it flood inside, tasting her female nectar?

  But suddenly, Macy’s eyes jerk open with a gasp.

  “Oh god oh god!” she pants, scrambling to try and get up. “That’s my water! My water’s broken!”

  Shit. Fuck. I wasn’t supposed to do it in her vag, the seven of us pledged on anal only so close to the due date. But she begged me for it, I swear. And now, oh shit, oh shit, the baby’s coming.

  Macy’s frantic, trying to scramble up. But it’s impossible, she’s seated deep on my cock, huge and bulbous like a beach ball, slippery with fluid. Her hands and feet slide this way and that and on the marble countertop, unable to get any traction.

  “Oh god!” comes her pant once more. “Oh god!” she cries again, both hands on her belly this time. It literally ripples as my eyes stare.

  But I’m not worried. The baby knows his mother is loved, and this is the manifestation of that love. So slowly, I reach both arms around that ripe torso and gently lift that curvy form off me.

  “Slow, baby girl,” comes my growl. “All in good time.”

  And as my dick exits her warm vaginal passage, a hard contraction slams down on my cock. It’s literally the tightest squeeze ever, and a groan erupts from my chest reflexively.

  But Macy’s eyes go wide.

  “Matt,” she pants. “That wasn’t an orgasm squeeze. That was a LABOR CONTRACTION!”

  Awww fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

  I shouldn’t have let myself get carried away.

  Our heir is being born.

  This very second.

  So calling upstairs, I let out a roar.

  “Yo! Go time!”

  And six sets of feet come pounding down, a herd of elephants if there ever was one.

  “Aw shit!” rumbles Matt, his eyes taking in everything.

  “Fuck!” snarls Smith, staring at Macy’s nude body, the semen dripping down her thighs.

  “Let’s go,” says Trent tightly, bundling Macy into a robe. “Sit still, honey, we gotcha.”

  And that’s how Casey Morgan came into the world. That’s right, she was born with her seven dads watching, almost swooning at the sight of the beautiful child. It was gorgeous for sure, Macy moaning and panting, the labor difficult. And yet, everything went off without a hitch. Our daughter. Our heir is here.

  Because life has turned out okay. Against all odds, we’ve made it work for the eight of us. For sure, it wasn’t easy at first. Our sweet girl was filled with doubts, having seen the wreckage of the past.

  “How do I know I won’t become like Heather?” came her soft voice once more.

  I hated that name. Heather. It was enough to make my dick wither.

  But my bros handled it better.

  “You won’t,” rumbled Will, resting one hand on top of hers reassuringly. “We won’t let it.”

  “Never again,” swore Tim. “We’ll never make that mistake with you.”

  But balance had to be struck in the world, and Macy wanted us to do something for the poor thing. And what our girl wants, she gets. So yeah, we checked our ex into a facility that helps with mood disorders, and last we heard, the blonde’s put on weight and is going to therapy three times a week. She’s young still. She’ll be fine.

  But more important is our relationship with Macy. Because the teen is the answer to our dreams, the mother of our child, and the lover of seven men. Yes, she takes us deep in her body all the time, screaming and crying to the heavens. Yes, she rides the dick wall with glee, humping each of our cocks one after another. Or she takes seven cocks simultaneously, opening her holes for an unbelievable pummel.

  But psychologically, she’s okay too. Macy has accepted that we’ll always be the way we are, the good, the bad and the ugly for better or worse. And she’s realized that there’s more than one side when it comes to using someone. Because yes, we used her. We used that sweet female body as a vessel for our heir, as the receptacle for our desires.

  But at the same time, Macy’s benefitted as well. The cookbook’s out now, published by Morgan Enterprises, and we’re in talks to buy a network. That’s right. Our girl wants to be on TV, and we’re gonna make it happen, even if it means owning the Food Channel to give her a platform.

  So yeah. Benefits run both ways in this relationship, and although it sounds materialistic, that’s the hard reality of life. But underneath it all is something much more solid. Love. There’s real love, caring and adoration, and we never hesitate to reiterate how much she means to us.

  “Sweet thing,” growls Ford, tracing a finger over her clit, watching as the girl moans and twists, spreading her legs even more. “Are you ready?”

  She mewls a bit, titties heaving.

  “I don’t know,” comes that whisper, eyes flickering as she gazes over her shoulder at Ford. “I don’t know because I’m already so stuffed.”

  Because yeah, she’s seated on my thick rod already. I’m on my back, and Macy’s riding me, bent over with my pole stuffed deep inside. But this isn’t double penetration. Or it is, but not that type of deep dicking. This is double vaginal, two cocks in her puss.

  Yeah, that’s right, Macy’s gonna take two dicks into that sweet cavern, two stiff, hot rods into that slutty cunt.

  “You can do it,” I rasp, locking strong arms around the female’s torso so that she can’t move, those big tits squashed against my chest. “Try now,” is my low command.

  And Ford does it then. His dick nudges at her hole, the tiny crevice that’s already plugged full. But sure enough, his glans finds a way in, Macy moaning breathily, writhing helplessly in my arms. And then it happens. Aw fuck! I feel my bro’s dick slide against my own, hot, heavy and hard, and our best girl lets out a shrill scream.

  “Fuck! I’m so fucked!” she gasps, eyes squeezed shut, pussy stretched incredibly wide. “Oh god!”

  And Ford and I chuckle in unison. Because yeah, this is how we like it. Dirty and deep, with the woman of our dreams … and we’ll never let go of Macy Jones now.

  THE END

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  All the Best Men

  ~An MFMM Ménage Romance~

  © 2017

  By Cassandra Dee

  Want to hear about my newest illicit romance? Addicted to virgins and alpha males? Join my mailing list at www.subscribepage.com/alphamalesontop and get a FREE BOOK unavailable elsewhere!

  © 2017 Cassandra Dee

  All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters are all productions of the author's imagination.

  Please note that this work is intended only for adults over the age of 18 and all characters are represented as 18 or over.

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  If you bought this book from any site other than Amazon, you should know that it was stolen and the author received no royalties.

  DEDICATION

  To all the dirty girls who dream in threes.

  This book’s for you!

  ABOUT THIS BOOK

  ALL THE BEST MEN: An MFMM Ménage Romance

 
I went to a wedding and came out with not one hot guy, but three.

  They say weddings are the best places to meet someone.

  Yeah, right.

  In my putrid green bridesmaid dress, I just wanted to disappear.

  But I saw the best man looking at me.

  And then his friend looked too.

  And then his friend as well.

  Was I crazy?

  Was I going nuts?

  But it was true. Mason, Kane and Tyler were definitely interested, sending hot vibes my way.

  But it’s wrong.

  This is a wedding for crying out loud.

  I’m supposed to be the maid of honor with flowers in my hair, projecting innocence and purity.

  Because this is dirty and nasty, taboo as hell.

  But I want it.

  Bad.

  Hot and hungry.

  Bent over and screaming.

  And the three best men?

  Well they’re only too happy to do the honors …

  CHAPTER ONE

  Katie

  “I need something blue to wear. Someone give me something blue nowwwww!”

  Elaine’s howls rang through the church belfry. Because for the better part of an hour, my best friend had been ranting and raving like a lunatic on steroids.

  “Nowwww!” she screeched again, causing a couple of us to shield our ears with hurried hands. “Noooowwww!”

  I get that brides want everything to be perfect on their wedding day. But this was taking Bridezilla to a new level. Elaine’s tantrum had everyone terrorized, including both her grandmas and the lone cat cowering under a wooden bench.

  “Damnit!” she shrieked again, face purple with rage. I swear, my friend was going to have a stroke, and then it’d be a real disaster for sure. But Elaine couldn’t be stopped. She rushed around furiously, ransacking the small room, throwing things this way and that.

  “Nowwww!” she screeched again, the cords in her neck standing out unattractively. “Blue, I swear, it needs to be blue!”

  I ran forwards then.

  “Elaine, it’s just a saying,” I said hurriedly, one hand on her arm. “Don’t worry about it, it’s just a metaphor.”

  Because what could we do? It was literally minutes until the ceremony, and somehow this small detail had slipped. But trust Elaine to overreact because she whipped her head from right to left, almost dislodging the tiara on her head.

  “No!” she shrieked. “I can’t get married unless I have something blue. Haven’t you heard the old saying? Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue. I have everything but the blue item. If I don’t have it, then I’m gonna be cursed forever! We might as well get divorced nowwwww!” she wailed again, face crumpling into an ugly mask.

  Oh god, snot was beginning to come out of that perfect ski-slope nose, runny yellow goopy stuff. So thinking on the fly, I did the only thing that came to mind.

  “Here,” I said hurriedly, reaching down to tear a strip from the bottom of my dress. Thank god this thing was almost floor length. Hopefully no one would notice that it was now ragged at the hem. “You can use this,” I said holding up the material.

  But it just made things worse. Because Elaine lunged at me then, eyes wild, nails ready to scratch.

  “Are you crazy Katie?” she shrieked. “That’s green, not blue!”

  I ducked out of the way, saving my own life. Anyone else would have quit right about now. But like a trooper, I plowed on ahead.

  “Here,” I said hurriedly, fumbling for a blue magic marker that just happened to be lying on a nearby table. Uncapping the felt pen, I colored the strip of green silk until it was blue in the center. It was ugly for sure, a first-grader could have done better, but hey, difficult circumstances call for ingenious solutions, and this was my MacGyver attempt.

  “Here,” I pushed the strip of silk towards her. “It’s blue now.”

  Elaine took it, eyeing the ribbon suspiciously.

  “This is still green,” she said imperiously, sniffing. “I can’t use it.”

  Exasperated, I grabbed the material from her again, coloring furiously once more so that it was definitely blue. Sad and limp-looking yes, but still better than nothing.

  “Here,” I said as calmly as possible, pushing it into her hands. “This is blue.”

  Elaine’s chin began to wobble.

  “Bu- but how am I going to wear it?” cried Elaine tearfully. “I’m decked out to the nines in my wedding gown, how am I gonna wear this?”

  A tear perched precariously on the edge of her black lashes. Oh god, oh god, disaster was coming. Because Elaine had on globs of mascara, almost like spiders around her eyes. And if she cried, black streaks were gonna run down her face, making her look like a witchy ghoul. We’d really be done for then.

  And like a nightmare, the wedding march started outside, organ strains rising melodiously from behind the closed church doors. Uh oh. Time to pull out all the stops and get this show on the road.

  In a flash, I was down on my knees next to Elaine, which was no easy feat given my curvy form and the puke-green bridesmaid dress that poufed everywhere.

  “Here,” I said urgently. “I’ll tie it around your leg. No one will see, and no one has to see. As long as you have something blue on, you’re gonna be fine.”

  With that, the bluish-green strip of silk was fastened around Elaine’s thigh with a jerk, the knot tied tight. I got up again, brushing curls out of my face, heaving and panting from stress.

  “Elaine,” I said seriously, taking those narrow shoulders between my hands and staring my friend in the eye. “It’s fine. You can do it. Everything’s perfect.”

  And with that, my best friend took a long, slow, snuffly breath.

  “I guess so,” she murmured, blinking back tears. “I guess so.”

  “Go!” I said, physically turning her shoulders so that she faced the big doors. “We’re gonna walk out after you. Go!”

  And with that the doors swung open, revealing a rapturous crowd. Like in a movie, a ray of sunlight streamed from the heavens, hitting Elaine’s blonde head and making her glow. And what do you know, but my friend beamed then, as beautiful as a fairy princess.

  Even for me, it was hard to believe that a mere five seconds earlier, she’d been screaming and cursing like a sailor, practically purple with rage.

  But all’s well that ends well, and relieved, I breathed a huge sigh of relief. Thank god. An epic disaster averted, and mentally, I made note to award myself with an extra large slice of cake later.

  But suddenly Mary, the wedding coordinator turned to me, hand gestures frantic.

  “Ready,” she mouthed. “Three, two, one …” and then she pointed straight at me like a movie director. It was my turn.

  The timing couldn’t have been worse. Not only was I hassled and annoyed, panting and sweaty, but I had on a puke-green bridesmaid dress with an ugly tear at the bottom. To add to my misery, Elaine had picked something with ruffles. Not just a discreet ruffle here, or a discreet ruffle there. But literally ten tiers of ruffles, making me look like the big green monster from Hell.

  But there were no options. It was Elaine’s big day, and when she’d presented me with the dress, it had been all I could do to smile weakly and say, “Thanks.”

  “You’re gonna look beautiful!” Elaine cooed, eyeing the gown and admiring her own taste. “Absolutely ravishing.”

  I swallowed hard. Was my friend for real? Because anyone with eyes could tell that even a professional model would look bad in this thing. But brides often pick ugly bridesmaids dresses so they look better by comparison. Swallowing hard, I could only manage another weak, “Thanks,” before taking a swig of my drink.

  But now the moment was here. It was time to parade down the aisle, all eyes on me in this massive glob of green. Oh, and the hem had a million loose threads. If I was lucky, I wouldn’t trip and land flat on my face. The perfect ending to this debacle.

  Suddenly the org
an music swelled loudly again, Mary’s hand gestures growing ever more frantic. So smacking a smile on my face, I tried to look thrilled, taking one step forwards. There was no gasp of awe, no delighted smiles when the guests saw me. If anything, there were only shocked stares instead.

  Because yeah, I’m a big girl. I’m curvy everywhere, and the thing about these ruffles were they were in all the wrong spots. The ones at my bust made my Double Ds seem even bigger, and the ones at my hips only emphasized my sassy figure. I tried to walk gracefully, but the ruffles on my ass wiggled and swayed like a showgirl’s feathers.

  Smiling frozenly, I placed one foot in front of the other, mentally telling myself to move forwards. Keep going, keep going, the voice in my head urged. Almost there.

  And finally, I was at the end of the aisle. The entire walk, my eyes faced forward, seeing but not seeing, almost like headlights frozen in place. But now I had to turn left, and my head jerked slightly as I got my bearings. Smile. Keep smiling.

  But as my eyes focused, suddenly the world was upended. Because there was Bobby, the groom, standing there sweating bullets. I felt sorry for the poor guy, his suit looked too tight on that portly figure, and clearly, the A/C in the church wasn’t enough to keep him cool. There were growing wet patches under his arms, showing through his wedding suit.

  But it was the men standing next to him that made my breath catch, insides going warm and loose. Because there were three gorgeous, dark-haired men lined up next to the groom. Massive with incredible builds, they took me in with bright blue eyes, knowing smiles curving those lips.

  Who were these guys? Why hadn’t I seen them before? Suddenly it came rushing back. That’s right, these were Bobby’s friends from childhood, three alpha males allegedly so successful that they couldn’t leave their fancy careers in New York until the last minute. So they’d missed the pre-wedding dinner last night, as well as the ceremony rehearsal this afternoon.

 

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