She moaned when my erection, still exposed, rubbed at her lace-covered clit. At an impatient noise from my brother, I gently released her, guiding her to sit on the bed. Andrew, impatient and hungry, fell to his knees, pulling those panties away from her, baring her cunt as it glistened with the sweet juices of desire.
My twin pushed her legs further apart before feasting. He gave her no preamble, just shoved his face between her legs like a man starved. Sweet Joanie’s hips bucked at the attention, her noises confirming what we already knew – she loved it.
I undressed, my cock twitching with excitement as I crawled onto the bed. “Open that gorgeous mouth, Joanie,” I commanded.
She looked nervously at my dick but obeyed. She took in just a little bit of it, at first, her tongue tasting the head, the small hole there.
“Wider,” I growled, wanting much more from her.
She knew how to follow directions, that was for sure, as her mouth opened, allowing me to plow deeper, my cock settling down into her throat. Instinctively, her hands moved up, one to cup my balls, one to grip the base as she sucked and licked.
“Uhn, ahh, uhn,” she grunted and moaned as my brother pushed two fingers inside that tight hole, his tongue vibrating against her swollen clit.
Her hips bucked against him and her thighs were wet. My god, she was so wet, so juicy. My brother was in heaven, pushing her so hard toward the release she needed, the release that would make taking her virginity more pleasurable for her.
See, we’re nice guys.
When she stilled, her mouth going slack I knew she was there.
“Come for us, baby,” I said. “Andrew’s working hard down there. Let him feel that pussy clench, go ahead and let go.”
“Ahh, ahhh, ahhhhh,” she let out a symphony of orgasm noises as I just sat back and watched her face as she left reality for a moment, her body taking her to another plane of existence.
Andrew kept pumping his fingers, a smile on his face as he, too, watched the display.
When she settled, he asked, “More?”
“Yesssss,” she said on a long breath out, her chest rising and falling heavily.
Andrew moved away and I took his place between her legs as he undressed fully. That motherfucker still had his tie on.
I made my way to her entrance and made her meet my gaze. Hooded eyelids and a dreamy, dazed expression showed me she was still riding the high of orgasm, so I slipped inside, slowly, while she was relaxed.
She stiffened almost immediately.
“Stay relaxed,” I said. “Let me feel you.”
Andrew, leaned over her, kissing her, his hands deftly working at her nipples, kneading and pinching at those perfect, thick breasts. Joanie arched up to the kiss, her virginal channel opening up for me as I pushed a little further inside until I was fully inside her.
“Mmmmnnnn,” she moaned, adjusting to the foreign feeling of fullness. “Hurts a little.”
“We only want it if you want it,” I said. “You want it?”
“Mmm,” she groaned. “Uhhhnnnn. Yessss. Yessss, I want it.”
“Then just breathe,” I instructed, pulling a thumb on that throbbing clit, still wracked with aftershocks from her epic orgasm. She arched to that, the pain temporarily forgotten, her juices coating my cock as her body remembered the pleasure. “Yes, Joanie. There you go.”
I moved just a little, letting her get used to the friction.
“Move those hips, Joanie,” I instructed. “Move with me. Feel me. Push that sweet cunt up against me.”
She started to move and I moved at her pace, letting her find her own rhythm with me, her body overstimulated as I continued to press her clit and as Andrew paid continued homage to her breasts and lips.
“Soft or hard?” I asked. “You want it soft or hard? I’ll let you pick, just this once.”
Andrew let her answer, his lips only leaving hers long enough for her to say, “Hard.”
“Hard it is,” I said as I pushed.
Her legs pushed up, giving me deeper access. God, this girl was made for us. Hands braced on the bed, I pumped my cock into the tight hole, harder and harder as those tits bounced on her chest. Andrew replaced his mouth with his cock and she opened wide, taking him in so that he, too, could pump his pleasure into her.
“You like this, Joanie?” Andrew asked, his face tight with desire.
She moaned an affirmation. “Uhhhhh huhhhhh.”
And she meant it, because that pussy clenched again, orgasm pushing her hips up, her muscles tight as the orgasm gripped her and sent Andrew over the edge as he fucked her mouth.
What a gift this woman was, so soft and sensual, so sensitive and responsive. I’d certainly never been with a virgin so easy to climax, so willing to listen to directions. It was as if that sweet slut knew that we could help her feel maximum pleasure – all she had to do was follow directions and let herself feel the pleasure.
This was going to be fun.
Andrew came first, his release pouring down her throat as she sucked him dry, still coming on my dick as I neared the edge of my control. I came and came, pumping white, creamy jizz into that perfect pussy.
We didn’t stop there, though. No, once that little slut discovered how good it felt to be filled, she couldn’t get enough. She mewled like a little cat when I withdrew, her hand going to her throbbing bud, stroking it, trying to push herself toward orgasm once more.
Never one to leave a woman hanging on the edge of ecstasy, I met eyes with Andrew, who was already nodding that he could go another round. He laid down, rubbing his cock, getting it ready, and when he was hard, he pulled the astonished brunette on top of him, impaling her without preamble.
“Move,” he said. “Move those big, beautiful hips, Joanie.”
She moved, her hands resting on Andrew’s chest. I, for one, took a moment to enjoy the view of that wide ass moving up and down, spreading as it rested, plump and juicy as she moved back up. It was a mesmerizing sight, really, and I just watched while I pumped my cock, getting it ready for more of that gorgeous body.
Knowing Joanie was, until just moments before, a virgin, I knew we’d have to edge her toward our more deviant interests. Anal would be out, for now, though I could certainly start to get her ready for it.
As she rode my brother, he couldn’t get enough of those fantastic boobs. He continued licking and motorboating and otherwise obsessing over them as they hung like two pendulums in his face. And little Joanie, our curvy stewardess, she rode him like nobod’s business, up and down as he continued agitating that clit, until she literally stopped breathing, her orgasm taking over mind, body, and soul.
Boneless, she was barely able to hold herself up, so Andrew held her hips and pumped into her, moaning about how good she felt, about how sweet she was. I rubbed my cock into her ass crack as he did, loving the feel, wishing I could shove my cock straight into the tiny brown hole.
As it was, I put just my pinky there, using my other hand to guide my cock into the gooey space from asshole to pussy. She liked it, writhing on my brother, getting her second wind as she came again, taking my brother with her.
Once my brother was spent, I pulled her from him, placing her on all fours, shoving into her once more to finish off. I rubbed that clit, still, urging her to give me one more, to let me feel that sweet cunt squeezing my dick.
And she did not disappoint. She shoved that ass toward me as I fucked her hard, so hard, watching those bags swing from her chest in a circular dance. Just as I erupted, so did she, with a primal cry of release that seemed more animal than human. She sounded less like a kitten and more like a predatory cat, waking up and ready to pounce.
“My little jungle panther,” I said. “Good girl. Now rest.”
I think she was asleep before I even pulled out.
COMING UP NEXT!
Seven Brothers of Sin: A Reverse Harem Romance
Please flip the page to enjoy!
Seven Brothers of Sin
&nb
sp; ~A Reverse Harem Romance~
© 2017
By Cassandra Dee
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© 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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DEDICATION
To all the dirty girls who want their own harem.
This book’s for you!
ABOUT THIS BOOK
SEVEN BROTHERS OF SIN: A REVERSE HAREM ROMANCE
Why pick one when you can have seven?
I grew up next to the Morgans.
All boys, and we played doctor sometimes.
But now it’s ten years later.
I’m back from college.
And the Morgans … well, they make me shiver, everything going hot.
Because the men are gorgeous.
Matt on Monday.
Tim on Tuesday.
Will on Wednesday.
Trent on Thursday.
Ford on Friday.
Sam on Saturday.
And Smith … oh god, Smith’s perfect for Sundays.
Because Sunday’s meant for penance.
Doing right and thinking good thoughts.
Going to church and acting godly.
But I can’t be good.
I can’t possibly choose, they’re too gorgeous.
So I don’t.
Is that wrong?
Or is seven my lucky number?
CHAPTER ONE
Macy
Nothing like the “freshman fifteen” to take a girl down a peg.
Or maybe the freshman twenty.
Or even thirty.
Because I haven’t put a swimsuit on all year and damn, this is tight. When I bought this bikini, it was for an epic post-graduation trip with my girlfriends. We took tons of selfies, giggling and splashing one another, and then the suit went in my drawer and I headed off to my freshman year of college.
But holy curves, Batman! Because since then, I’ve got a little more in the midsection, a little more on the thighs, and a lot more on top. My tits and ass are ready to wage war on these tiny bits of red fabric.
But I can’t just sit up here all day. My parents are throwing a big pool party to celebrate my homecoming. Who will come to such a party, one might ask? Well, that remains to be seen but I’d be willing to guess several middle-aged neighbors and maybe a few old people. People who definitely wouldn’t appreciate a nip slip Janet Jackson-style.
Taking a deep breath, I assess the situation in the full-length for a moment longer. The hair is good, at least. A quick fluff and my long, thick brunette locks fall sexily down my near-naked back. The eyes are good, too, I suppose – big and brown against creamy skin and full, pink lips. Grimacing, I stick a tongue out at my reflection in the mirror. Why is my skin so pale and pasty? It’s probably the library doing that to me, hours spent in my carrel hitting the books.
But there’s nothing to be done about that now. No amount of self-tanner will make me a goddess from Baywatch, so might as well own it. Sticking my tongue out one last time, I pad down the stairs, taking a deep breath. Oh no! My breasts bounce like two balls on a playground, jiggling up and down joyfully. God only knows what my ass is doing back there. Probably wobbling like a bowl full of fraternity-spiked Jello.
But the minute I walk into the kitchen my mom has me in a bear hug.
“There you are!” Marsha coos, dancing side to side, not letting go. “We missed you!”
“Um, you just saw me at breakfast,” comes my mumble.
Mom lets go and puts a finger on my nose.
“Boop!” she chirps, doing this dumb thing she’s done ever since I was a little kid. “You can’t blame me for being excited. You’re my only daughter! I was so lonely without you all year.”
I stand stiffly. This is just a show by Marsha. She loves making like she’s an adoring mother, but really, the situation’s a lot more complicated. But this isn’t the time to fight. A quick peek down confirms that half of my breast is pushing its way out of my bathing suit top after all that hugging. I subtly try to squeeze everything back in and say, “I need a new swim suit, Mom. This one is too tight.”
Marsha frowns for a moment.
“Maybe a little,” she acknowledges, “But it’s because you’re a big girl. Big girls have big assets, and it just means that they’re feeding you well at school,” she announces.
My face goes red. Trust Mom to proclaim to the world that I’m a size extra large. But oh well, there’s nothing to be done about it. Marsha will always be Marsha, and no matter how often I tell her not to do something, she’ll always do what she wants.
So I sigh. And just for show, she swoops me into another hug, announcing again how happy she is that I’m home. When I offer to help with food, she clucks, shaking her head.
“You go on outside,” she says, shooing me towards the backyard. “Besides, I expect the Morgans to arrive anytime now. You remember the Morgans, honey? They have seven sons. Seven boys! If I were Maddy Morgan, I’d probably be in a mental facility by now, run ragged with no space to breathe. But Maddy is fantastic, so calm all the time.”
I nod. I do, in fact, remember the Morgans. Somewhat. Vaguely. We never interacted because the boys were so much older than me. But it was always a joke around the house because what family has seven sons? The level of testosterone over there must have been enough to kill an elephant.
Unfortunately, I don’t remember much more than a couple lanky teenage boys zooming around the neighborhood on skateboards. So I shrug nonchalantly.
“Sure,” is my comment. “Let me know when they arrive.”
And fortunately, my bikini manages to stay put as I arrange myself on a lounge chair, stretching out in the sun. Maybe I can just greet people from here, like a queen. I’ll say I have an ankle injury. It’s for the better because if I move, there’s definitely going to be an accident. This is all for the public interest, I tell myself, lying back, sunglasses on top of my head.
But then I hear my mom’s voice again.
“Hello there!” Marsha squeals, throwing her arms around a tall, fit blonde. Even though they’re about the same age, the two women look completely different. My mom is short and pudgy. She hides it well behind professional clothes, but there’s no doubt that Marsha’s wider than she is tall.
By contrast, this woman is long and lean with toned arms and legs, perky breasts, and a great tan. She’s got a short, blonde bob and wears designer sunglasses and a bright blue beach cover-up. She could be a tennis instructor at a fancy country club, or a professional golf player.
“Macy,” my mom calls, gesturing to me. “Come and meet Mrs. Morgan. You remember Mrs. Morgan from next door?”
Slowly, I get up and make my way over. Up close, the blonde is even more tanned and athletic, bursting with health. This is Mrs. Morgan? How in the world does she have seven kids? There’s no hint of pooch on her belly, her abs tight and firm. Damn, I’m always fighting my gut, and I haven’t even been pregnant once.
But Mrs. Morgan smiles widely.
“Hi there Macy,” she says. “Long time no see.”
“Hi,” I say, head down, holding out my hand. “Nice to see you again.�
�
I figure we’ll shake, but instead Mrs. Morgan takes my hand and pulls me in for a hug. Then she holds me away, her hands on my shoulders, giving me the once over.
“Look at you,” she burbles. “Looking healthy after your first year away.”
What? How come these middle aged ladies get to say whatever they want about my appearance? First my mom, and now this?
“I, um,” I start to say, glancing down and flushing.
“Don’t worry, dear,” she interrupts. “The boys like a little meat on a woman’s bones. You’re just gorgeous. I’ll probably have to cage my boys to keep them from bothering you all summer.”
Claiming His Virgin In the Pool Page 42
