Tasting Candy

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Tasting Candy Page 116

by Candy Quinn


  I cried out, my throat exposed as my skin prickled with excitement. My hand moved along my clit, touching myself so gently and finding my digits smacked by those balls with Mr. Robins thrusts.

  It all felt so good, though. Like my senses were peaked and I could feel and smell and hear everything so much more acutely.

  Mr. Robin’s pace grew, and the tall, hard man was breaking in my poor little body so roughly. The initial ease of entry a thing long forgotten as he plowed his dick into me up to the hilt, hammering himself again and again, each thrust accompanied by a lewd swelling of his manhood.

  “You’re gonna suck our dicks tonight too,” Mr. Thatcher said so lewdly, stroking back my hair, the two men tearing me back and forth between the wider reality of the room, the world, us, and the intense focus of my pussy getting so stuffed by my principal. “As soon as we’re done dumping our loads in you, little slut.”

  The words were crass but sounded so affectionate, and my blue eyes fluttered shut as a moan passed my lips. It wasn’t much thanks for the compliment, but oh, it was sincere. Having the two men I’d looked up to most my whole life, even more than my own family, doting on me like this?

  Promising me such taboo pleasures as they worked to breed me? Make a mess of my little pussy?

  It was sublime.

  Mr. Robins, god bless his heart, slapped another rough spank to my ass, never letting me grow too complacent. Never letting my body settle into just pleasure, always giving me that edge of stinging pain as he fucked me up against the bar. His cock swelled lewdly, and I knew the man wanted to cum inside me, I just knew it by instinct. Though he held back, savouring his honour at being the first to pound my pussy.

  “We’ll make you the luckiest, happiest lil’ slut on the whole island,” my teacher said, cupping my jaw, letting his thumb work up to tease my plush lower lip.

  It was such a high compliment, an honour, and I whimpered at it with such desire. They knew me so well, knew what I needed and wanted more than anyone, and those words, combined with the wriggling of my fingers over my clit, made my body well up with electricity.

  “Oh God,” I whimpered, as that spring began to uncoil within me.

  And then there was nothing but fireworks as my pussy tightened around Mr. Robins, the muscles squeezing him as I cried out.

  It was as explosive a moment for Mr. Robins as it was for me, as with the convulsion of my body, my narrow little cunny milked his dick dry, and he found himself caught in its vice grip. He buried his length into me, balls deep, his dick swelling, spewing such thick gouts of virile seed from his older cock. The elder principal lost in a deep series of moans as he pumped all the creamy contents of his loins into my pussy, claiming it first.

  “There you go,” Mr. Thatcher said, smiling and leaning in to press his sweet kisses to my lips.

  My entire body felt like it was vibrating and I lashed my tongue along Mr. Thatcher’s as my principal’s cock spurt another blast of cum against my cervix.

  I felt so... proud. So much more mature and feminine, and when I opened my eyes at Mr. Thatcher, I knew there wasn’t going to be any waiting, or teasing games. No, I wanted him next, now, taking Mr. Robins’ place behind me.

  Instead, however, the older men took charge of me, and once Mr. Robins pulled out of me cunny — leaving me so sadly, achingly empty! — he left me drooling his seed as he slapped my ass again, making me squeal.

  “Onto the couch,” Mr Robins dictated, and he took hold of my hair, using it like a leash as he guided me to the thick leather couch. I could feel his cum running down my inner thigh as he got me to kneel down and bend over the arm rest. Then he got before me, undoing the buttons of his shirt, to show his hard chest, peppered with a mixture of grey and black hair, looking so ruggedly masculine as his thick, glistening cock suspended before my mouth.

  “Now’s your chance, girl, go on,” he told me as Mr. Thatcher stripped off his own jacket, and prepared to have me from behind.

  I looked at his dick, throbbing so full with blood and covered in my own juices and cum as it glistened in the dim light, and I felt my pussy pulse in anticipation.

  I wanted it so bad. More than anything.

  I opened my lips and instantly brought my mouth about him, ravenous to taste him. My tongue lay flat against the bottom row of my teeth, and I went down until I could feel that crown throb against the back of my throat as I wiggled my dripping pussy and round hips towards Mr. Thatcher.

  Before he could even enter me, Mr. Robins took hold of my head and began to pump that shaft of his into my mouth, taking control of the situation as was his way. Ever the domineering man in every situation.

  My dear, handsome teacher, however, stripped away his shirt, showing off his smooth, hard chest before his own gloriously beautiful cock sprang into view. He was about thirty, and just marvelously put together. So it satisfied me so deeply to feel him climb up onto the couch behind me, and then slide his dick on into my cum-coated pussy with a soft squelch of juices.

  He showed no disappointment with how Mr. Robins had stretched me out, because he moaned lewdly, took hold of my hips about the edge of my dress, and began to pump his dick into me with such sweet gusto and energy.

  Never before had I been pinned between two men like that, and it was hard for me to fully concentrate on lavishing Mr. Robins’ dick with my tongue. Though, with how he was manipulating my head, I didn’t feel as if he were disappointed with my mouth.

  Besides, with him controlling my blow job, I was able to better focus on how Mr. Thatcher was pounding into me. Both my professor and my teacher working in tandem to knock me up, to father my children.

  They’d offered me the world — or as much of it as our little island could handle — and all I had to give in exchange was my body. And, oh, how they showed their appreciation for it. Not just with the promised gifts, but the way they thrust into me, the way their cocks throbbed and pulsed with desire.

  Mr. Thatcher was behind me, but then I noticed that the tall glass door behind Mr. Robins showed his reflection crystal clear, and could see how that stunning older man pounded into me. How beautiful the motions of his body highlighted his rock hard abs and bulging pecs. He was stunning to behold, and exquisite to feel inside me, though the spurt of salty cum onto my tongue sought to steal my attention away from that gorgeous sight.

  I closed my eyes so I could better focus, that crown throbbing against the back of my throat as Mr. Thatcher pushed into my creamy pussy. I felt so dirty, so good, and I slammed my ass back against him as hard as I could, begging him in deep.

  My tongue ran along Mr. Robins’ flared tip, eager to taste his own rich seed against my tongue.

  The two of them were so different, yet alike, and they pistoned me between their two cocks. My throat put to the test as Mr. Robins stretched it about the tip of his shaft before I was pulled back down around Mr. Thatcher’s entirely. It was intense, dizzyingly so, and I let loose such a throaty hum that it made the dick in my mouth vibrate, getting my principal to let loose a deep moan of his own.

  It was the most overwhelming moment of my life, and I wanted it all and more. I wanted more of their cum, and I could feel Mr. Thatcher building up to his release, eager to add his seed to my womb. Though before he got there, he reached down around me with both hands, one grasped a hold of my heavy tit, squeezed and kneaded its flesh. The other… oh, it went down and began to tease my sensitive clit.

  I’d already cum once, and by God, I was already so close to the second time I couldn’t even believe it. I’d never cum more than once. It was the most intense sensation and I almost choked on Mr. Robins’ dick as my body began to quiver and shake, my mind growing dim.

  I was nothing, just a body, pistoning between two men as they used me and filled me up with their seed, and it felt... sublime.

  Again, the convulsions of my spasming cunny caused that dick inside me to topple over the edge with me. The clench of those slick, narrow walls pulled my teacher into blis
s, pulling his thick, creamy spunk deep into my cunt, so that his load would help fertilize my womb with Mr. Robins’.

  It was all so intense, and I quivered and quaked through each moment, crying out even with the dick in my mouth, making it thrum with the sounds, and sending Mr. Robins to heaven along with us. We were a threeway mess of pleasure, cum and honey, and the salty tang of more jism upon my tongue as my principal shot off into my mouth.

  I couldn’t ever remember being happier in my life.

  Six months later…

  Freedom from my parents place was sweeter than I had imagined. I had two places to pick from on a whim, my own bedroom off in a rather private area of Mr. Robins’ house, or a cozy spot alongside Mr. Thatcher.

  Though one thing that took some getting used to was the sting in my bottom. I took some of the pressure off it in my shiny new car by leaning over, my tits spilling out of my top as I unzipped Mr. Thatcher’s pants, letting that thick, meaty shaft pop out.

  “Good girl,” he said, petting my hair, smiling down at me, fresh out of school, which I was free from now myself.

  My belly was swollen, and I knew it was Mr. Robins or Mr. Thatcher’s baby within me. I knew it was careless to only have two fathers, but hey, like mother like daughter, right? At least they both were able to provide for me better than my dads, and now that I was pregnant, they let me suck them off whenever I wanted.

  My breasts were so swollen, though, and rested against Mr. Thatcher’s thigh as I looked up at him, batting my eyelashes eagerly as I suckled.

  He continued to pet my hair, that utter fondness for me coming through so clearly as he laid back in his seat and sighed. His thick shaft pulsated in my mouth, and I could taste some salty pre-cum spurt upon my tongue as it swirled about his bulging crown.

  “Fuck that’s good,” he remarked in a deep, throaty voice, so laced with pleasure. How I loved making my teacher say such terrible things! “Haven’t been able to stop fantasizing about your sweet lips on my dick all day at work.”

  And I rewarded him with a little swirl, my tongue tracing along the veins of his cock as they throbbed against my tongue. Sometimes I spent so long sucking him off, my jaw would be sore for days.

  But in a seedy little tryst in my car?

  Oh, I worked fast, bobbing up and down so eagerly, even as my tits hung, laden with milk, and my pregnant belly got in the way.

  That strong hand of his though swept back from her hair, down over my body, feeling out the bulge of my belly where our child-to-be lay, then on up to cup one of my breasts. Those hard fingers sinking into that milk-engorged breast flesh and squeezing enough to make me whimper and groan around his dick.

  He was insatiable for me, and though he was the gentler of the two, that sometimes led him to be a little rough with me. Especially with me so far along, and his desire having not abated even a little.

  But I was grateful, because honestly, this pregnancy was making me hornier than anything, and even the pain and discomfort thrilled me as I worked up and down that shaft with such pleasure. Even after all these months, I still loved being able to suck his cock, knocked up or not.

  Bringing such deep, satisfied moans out of my teacher’s lips was such a thrill too, all those little schoolgirl fascinations brought to life as I turned my respected principal and teacher into moaning perverts that just couldn’t get enough of me.

  The lewd bulge of Mr. Thatcher’s dick in my mouth forced my jaw wider, straining my ability to hold him there without my teeth getting in the way. He was a big man, but I had gotten better at taking him, sucking him off, and my fingers went down around his balls to gently fondle them as he pulled my tit from my top to tease and tug at my nipple.

  I was no less a wanton slut, six months pregnant, than I had been the first time I’d lost my virginity to my teacher and principal. Now I was just more skilled, and much curvier.

  I could still feel the gooey slickness of Mr. Robins cum dribble from my bare slit beneath my skirt, running onto the leather car seat. It’d make a mess, but my two men always looked after that, eventually. All I had to think about was how delightful it was to receive their cum, again and again, even when my body was ripe and pregnant, and they were waiting for the next time to knock me up.

  Lynn’s Fertile First Time

  Book Themes:

  M/F/M Sex, Breeding, Impregnating Creampies, Virginity Loss, and Alcohol

  Word Count:

  6,289

  For so long, I’d been dreading the moment I turned eighteen. I knew what was expected of the women of the town, the best ways to get ahead in life, but they never felt like they were what I should do. Looking for multiple men, so many potential fathers for my child... I wanted something more.

  On our island, a woman slept with multiple men, so that when her children were born, they were all the father. And each took some responsibility in helping love and raise those kids. It was a terrifying prospect!

  And since I’d turned eighteen last month, my mother has really been ratcheting it up a few notches, wondering when I was finally going to give my fertile body to the powerful and caring men of the town.

  But I was still scared.

  Until I saw him. I’d never seen him before, which was saying something, in a town my size. He’d just moved here from somewhere else, and had moved into an apartment with his cousin, Jordan, who I’d known when I was a kid but we never really spoke.

  The new guy, though, looked like he’d just walked off the pages of a magazine.

  I was too nervous to approach him, but thankfully, I didn’t have to. Unfortunately, it was because his German Shepherd leapt up to give me kisses and instead made me topple into the grass of the dog park, my green skirt flying up and the large paw print pressed into my white blouse.

  It was hard to laugh it off with how much I was blushing, especially when I saw him looming over me, trying to calm his dog down.

  “I am so sorry!” he said, embarrassed for the behaviour of his dog as he pushed the big beast away, and came over to me. He extended his arms and took my hands, his touch smooth and well-cared for, unlike most of the labourers around my little rural town. But when he pulled me to my feet, I could see his bare biceps bulge so thickly. He was definitely not weak.

  Fair-skinned and tall, he was such a handsome man, blonde and with green eyes that glittered in the summer sun like emeralds. He looked like he’d just walked off a movie screen and into my life.

  “Are you okay?” he asked in that rich, masculine voice of his, genuine concern there as he looked me over.

  I didn’t even know what to say. Words fumbled in my mind until I stupidly uttered, “New. You’re.... new here,” I clarified, wanting nothing more than to melt into the ground. Especially when Jordan came up behind him, clapping him on the back.

  “Hey, Marcus. Goldie mauling Lynn here?” he asked, looking first to the grinning dog, then to me.

  Marcus. His name was Marcus. Such a lovely name that reminded me of a stunning statue of some Roman deity perhaps.

  “Yeah man, he brutalized the poor girl,” Marcus said, looking at me with such concern.

  He wore a white cotton shirt and a pair of dark jeans. Simple, right? But they looked so great on him, with his far-away good-looks. Like a dashing young man with some culture to him, more worldly than the boys around town.

  Okay, maybe I was getting a little carried away. But he was the most handsome young man on the whole island, by far. And on that, you have to believe me!

  “You sure you’re okay?” Marcus asked me, still holding my hands for support as I stood there, staring, like an idiot.

  I was dazed by his presence, but the little bit of strange scent he carried, and I had to take in a deep breath, nodding my head vigorously, even though I knew I was blushing like a maniac, and my stomach was fluttering and my heart was racing. I didn’t want to be okay. I wanted him to stay, to be near to me.

  I was definitely getting a little in over my head.

 
Jordan looked me over and gave an odd look, obviously noticing my strange behaviour. Yet Marcus? He just looked on with that plain concern.

  “Well hey, we messed up your dress, like… totally ruined it,” he said, that perfect brow of his furrowed. “How about we get it cleaned for you? Or… better yet,” he said, a light going on behind those gorgeous eyes of his as he smiled. “How about you let me take you shopping for a new one sometime, huh?” he offered, a big smile upon his face, showing off those perfect, white teeth of his.

  I barely knew what to say to that, but it was an excuse as good as any. The only problem being, of course, that we’d probably have to talk, and that was quickly becoming a problem for me. My peachy lips were hung open, and another blush went through me.

  “Uh...” was all I could manage, my eyes flitting between the two, my hands fidgeting at my sides, my thighs pressed together tight.

  “She doesn’t wanna go on some date with you, man,” Jordan said with a laugh, holding back Goldie. “Just ‘cause you were hot shit in the big city doesn’t mean they’ll all cream their panties over you now, y’know?” he taunted his cousin, though Marcus looked unfazed through it all. He only had eyes for me, as strange as that was to believe.

  “Well how about I give you some money then and you can go get one yourself,” Marcus said, reaching into his back pocket to pull out his wallet.

  I almost felt like I was going to faint. My head was so light, and the world started spinning a little bit. I couldn’t believe he was even real, and my lips must have curled into a heady smile because they both looked at me a bit strangely as I brought my hand to my cheek, feeling how warm it was.

  I must’ve looked a little dizzy, because Marcus reached out and put his hands upon me, one on my hip the other on my shoulder as his strong grasp helped keep me steady.

  “Whoa whoa whoa,” he said, and then he did the most amazing thing. He plucked me up off the ground and carried me in his arms, like some classy gentleman out of the stories. He brought me over to the park bench, laying me down so gently, those emerald eyes of his glittering with concern. “Did you hit your head when Goldie pounced on you?” he asked.

 

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