Knocked Up by Brother's Best Friend

by Amy Brent

  Over the past half an hour, we had somehow managed to turn the little cabin into a cozy love nest. Sammy turned out to be very handy when it came to building a fire. Turned out, his dad loved the outdoors and took Sammy camping, hunting, and fishing all the time. Thank God, he taught him how to build a fire that put out heat like a blast furnace. Now, the cabin was toasty warm despite the chill of my mood.

  We found two sleeping bags rolled up on a small cot and two kerosene lamps with matches. I lit the lamps and spread out the sleeping bags on the dusty floor in front of the fire place. Sammy had tugged off the sweater and nodded at the me.

  “Okay, clothes off!” he announced, starting to work on getting the damp snow pants pushed down his muscular legs. “Come on. Strip!”

  “You want me to take my clothes off?” I huffed at him. “It’s freezing out there.”

  “We’re not out there,” he said, smiling as his long cock swung free. Even though it was still freezing in the cabin, Sammy’s sausage showed no sign of shrinkage. To the contrary, it started puffing up and getting hard before my eyes. I smiled, knowing I wouldn’t be cold for long.

  We stripped off all our clothes and soon were as toasty as two bugs in a rug, huddled between the sleeping bags in front of the raging fire. We were naked because Sammy said that’s how Eskimos kept warm in the freezing Alaska winters. I didn’t know if it was bullshit or not, nor did I care. I knew the best way to generate tons of body heat and it was not by keeping our clothes on.

  I lay on my back and Sammy propped up on an elbow next to me. “Warming up?” he asked as his lips worked their way up my jawline. His tongue went around the rim of my ear and I sighed in response.

  His tongue wet my lips, then slid inside my mouth to search for my tongue. His right hand slid onto my breast and he kneaded it gently. His finger brushed across my plump, long nipple, making me moan into the warm air. When he pinched my nipple, I felt the waterworks starting to flow from between my legs. I hoped the sleeping bag was waterproof, because I was about to get it extremely wet.

  Sammy trailed his tongue down my neck and swirled little circles around my nipples. Fireworks exploded throughout my body as he took one nipple between his lips and teased the tip with his tongue. He suckled the nipple as his fingers squeezed my breast, like he was sucking sweet mother’s milk from a mammary bag.

  Sammy’s lips remained on my nipple as his hand slid down my stomach toward my already drenched pussy. He teased me for a moment, tugging at my short red curls, which he refused to let me wax, then slid his finger down the length of my long clit and rolled it from side to side.

  I sucked in quick gasps of air through my teeth when he slid his finger into my pussy and swirled it around to cover it with warm juices. He had me melting like an avalanche rumbling down the mountain slopes. I could feel a hot stream of lava flowing from my pussy flowing to my asshole and to the sleeping bag beneath me.

  Sammy pressed a thumb to my clit and crossed two fingers and slid them slowly into my pussy as deeply as they would go. As his fingers curled upward and probed for my G-spot, sliding in and out from knuckle to tip, his thumb slid over my clit from side to side.

  When he pressed down on the hard nub of my clit and I exploded all over his hand. I bucked my pussy against him and he started jackhammering the fingers in and out, in and out, until every muscle in my body tensed and I coated his hand with my hot juices.

  I lay there struggling to catch my breath for a moment. Even though it was freezing outside and the snow was falling heavier by the minute, my body was on fire. The smell of my sex wafted through the warm air. A film of sweat covered my body. I tossed the sleeping bag that had been covering me aside.

  “Oh my god,” I moaned, holding a hand over my heart.

  “Still cold?” Sammy asked, his lips on my ear.

  “Hardly,” I said, smiling. “Now, it’s your turn.”

  I pushed him to his back and smiled when I saw his foot-long cock already thick and stiff, jutting up from his dark pubes with little drops seeping from the slit. I got onto my hands and knees and straddled his face so my wet pussy was at his mouth, then leaned forward and took his cock into both hands and started milking it up and down.

  I heard Sammy moan into my pussy when I lowered my lips onto the head of his cock. I held it firm at the base of the shaft so the skin would tighten around the muscles, then licked underneath the head until it looked like a crimson water balloon about to pop. The head of Sammy’s cock glistened with my spit and his juice. It turned a deeper crimson as my tongue worked its magic.

  I felt Sammy’s fingers opening my pussy lips. I felt his tongue licking me from clit to asshole. I felt his tongue plunge deep inside me like a miniature cock. I exploded again, showering his face with my hot juices. He dug his fingers into my ass cheeks and pressed his mouth to my cunt and sucked my juices like a thirsty man who had discovered the world’s tastiest watering hole.

  I slid my lips around his cock and bobbed my head, taking in as much of his twelve-inches as I could.

  I would take as much of him as I could into my mouth, then press my tongue to the underside of the shaft and slowly draw back my lips.

  His cock seemed to grow even bigger in my mouth. It was like sucking on a giant cucumber made of hot flesh.

  I held the head between my lips and flicked my tongue against the slit as my hand milked the shaft. Little drops of juice oozed from the slit and I lapped them up like a hungry kitten.

  I heard Sammy say, “I want to fuck you. Now!”

  I peered down between my dangling tits and saw him smiling at me.

  Sammy…

  I pressed my lips to Andrea’s gushing pussy and sucked in her wonderful salty juice, lapping it out with my tongue and humming happily as I drank her down. She was sucking the head of my cock and I knew I couldn’t hold out much longer. I peered down between our bodies and watched her milking my cock with both hands for a moment, then said, “I want to fuck you. Now!”

  Andrea gave me an upside-down smile and licked her lips. She swung herself around so her pussy moved from my mouth to my cock. She held my cock steady as she lowered her pussy hole onto the head.

  The tip of my cock pressed against her wet hole and she sucked in a quick breath of air. She wiggled her pussy down over the head, slowly, then down onto the first inch of the shaft. She put her hands on my chest and stared into my eyes as she impaled herself slowly onto the first five or six inches of my cock.

  Her eyes rolled back into her head for a moment, then she took a deep breath and started sliding her pussy up and down, up and down, up and down... Then faster… faster… much faster… oh shit…

  The breath rushed from my lungs each time Andrea slammed her pussy down onto my cock. I put my hands on her swaying breasts and squeezed the nipples hard. She moaned at the sweet pain and dug her fingernails into my chest. I always had scratches on my chest or my back now. Andrea was a fucking wildcat! And I fucking loved it!

  I put my hands on her hips and dug in my fingers to set the motion. Andrea’s eyes were closed, her mouth hanging open, her tongue darting across her lips. I nearly came just watching her about to cum.

  Andrea squeezed her eyes tight and moaned, “I’m cumming… oh… god… Sammy… I’m cumming…”

  “Come with me, baby,” I said, feeling the fire shooting from my balls, up the shaft, and out the tip of my cock buried deep inside her. I held on to her hips and lifted my ass off the floor and filled her with my hot seed.

  Andrea moaned my name again as she came with me, showering my cock and balls with her hot juices. She collapsed on top of me and we lay there trying to catch our breath for a few minutes as the air around us grew hot.

  The fire roared in the fireplace.

  The little cabin was toasty warm.

  We were covered with sweat and juice and cum.

  Andrea opened her eyes and smiled.

  “You planned this, didn’t you?” she asked, giving me a tired smile. “A
midnight walk in the snow… getting lost… finding this cabin…”

  “Maybe,” I said, shrugging with my eyebrows. “Would that make me a bad boy if I did?”

  “No,” she said, smiling, eyes dreamy. She wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me close. “That just makes you my Sammy.”

  ***The End***

  Thank you for reading and for your support.

  Continue reading for yet another bestseller – My Best Friend’s Brother.

  My Best Friend’s Brother

  Chapter 1

  Sarah

  “Good afternoon, Dallas. Today, we have a very special guest here with us. Mason Baker, branded in the media as the second-coming of Steve Jobs, will be here with us today sharing his story, his success, and his secrets. Stick around because it’s going to be a doozy.”

  “Sounds good to me,” my makeup artist said.

  “You think so, Ang? I wasn’t sure if I should use his media persona in the opening or not,” I said.

  “It’s what all the newspapers and magazines are saying about him. Can you believe his success? I think he made a deal with the devil,” she said and gave me a look.

  “Have you seen his looks? I think he definitely made a deal with the devil.” I tried to hide the smirk playing at the edge of my mouth. Anyone with a pulse knew how fucking hot Mason was. Hell, he knew it too.

  Angie and I giggled while she put on my makeup. In the three years I’d hosted my talk show in Dallas, she was the only veteran still here. ‘Does This Affect Dallas?’ was a show premise I had rolling around in the back of my mind for years before I finally pitched it to someone. All the talk shows nowadays were glorified gossip tables. I wanted something that would inform as well as entertain, a show that would dive into things that affected our beautiful city, breaking them down in entertaining ways to educate as well as distract.

  And Mason Baker was just that.

  “I can’t get over his dimples. I wanna poke my fingers in them,” Angie said.

  “I could swim in those beautiful peridot eyes all day,” I said.

  “And that thick, dark hair of his? Kill me in the face, please. I’d pay so much money to run my fingers through it.”

  “His hair? I’d give anything to run my hands up those meaty arms of his. Did you see that picture of him in the media last week? Jogging around like he didn’t know the entire world was watching him?”

  “Did you see the fucking video?” Angie asked. “The guy needs a damn jock strap.”

  “There’s a video? Let me see.”

  Angie put down the makeup and pulled her phone from her pocket. I watched the video and practically salivated, watching that cock swinging between his legs. The man was doing this on purpose. He had to be. No one made a hundred and fifty-seven million dollars in revenue their first year in business and didn’t understand he was being watched.

  Then again, he wasn’t only known for his quickly-rising technology company.

  “No wonder he’s a playboy,” I said, smirking. “That swinging cock could satisfy an entire block.”

  “Then come back around for dessert,” Angie said, mumbling.

  Out of all the interviews I’d done, I’d never been nervous. I had scored daily interviews with scandalous senators and had video interviews with some of the hottest names in Hollywood so they could talk about their charities. Anything that could educate Dallas and get them off their asses to help the world is what I focused on.

  And Mason Baker’s product was no different.

  His idea started with a social media campaign and the premise was simple, a device you could adhere to any surface to keep track of something. It came with an application you could put on your phone, tablet, or computer, and from there you could track up to thirty different devices. Thirty. You could stick it on the inside of your phone. You could wrap it around the keyring of your keys. It was pliable, bendable, waterproof, fireproof, and you couldn’t ruin it if you stepped on it.

  The original campaign was set to raise two hundred thousand dollars, and it ended up raising almost four million fucking dollars.

  All from donations.

  The applications of this item were endless. You could put it on your car and track your car. You could put it on your children’s electronic toys and track where they were. Hell, you could put it on your fucking kid and track where they were.

  The moment the product launched, it flew off the shelves, and it was Baker’s customer service setup that took the prize for that one. Complaints came flying in immediately from people who used it, and they used those complaints to tweak the product further. An updated product hit the shelves while those who complained about problems got a free upgraded replacement, and the product went viral.

  Eight months into their official launch, they were trying to figure out how to ship overseas, and from there the rest is history. One hundred and fifty-seven million in flat-out revenue for their first year, and they’d only begun to scratch the surface.

  It was absolutely incredible, and it was something that most definitely affected Dallas.

  But those piercing green eyes and that muscular body. It was almost disarming how sexy this man was. Angie was finishing up my makeup while everyone started bustling around me, and that’s when I heard someone say it in the distance.

  I heard them whisper that Mason Baker was here.

  I knew I was going to nail this interview. I always did. But never had I found anyone I’d interviewed this hot. I mean, I could feel my pussy heating up for crying out loud. That was beyond unprofessional, and it wasn’t a road I was willing to travel down again, not after I’d caught my ex-boyfriend making out with who was now my ex-host.

  It really wasn’t a big deal. I’d gotten the bitch fired within five minutes of figuring it out. Then, I took to kindly blasting them on social media. I made it apparent that the show does not tolerate unprofessional behavior of any kind, especially when it hurts multiple people involved. I told my fans that I’d interviewed senators and mayors and governors caught in scandals where they’d cheated on their spouses, and I took those accusations seriously. I used the moment as a platform to take a stand against men who manipulated, abused, cheated, and otherwise dealt anything else less than full respect to women they claimed to love.

  Especially after what I’d endured in high school.

  “Sarah?”

  “Yeah, Ang?”

  “You’ve got about ten minutes. You okay?” she asked.

  I double-checked my makeup in the mirror before I gave her a confident smile. I stood from my chair and embraced her, pulling her close to me. She was the closest thing I had to a friend in this town, and I would always respect her and love her for allowing me to talk to her before every single show I did.

  “You know I appreciate you, right?” I asked.

  “Oh, yes. I know,” she said. “I just have to remember not to make out with your boyfriends. I quite like my job.”

  We giggled one last time before I shook my head at her. I walked out of the room and down the hallway, smoothing out my outfit one last time. I got to the entrance of the stage as they were running the intro to the show, and then it was time for me to take my place on stage.

  I walked up to the middle of the stage as the crowd cheered. Cameras panned around me, and I waved to the audience. Then, I made eyes with Camera 3 as it panned around me. I waved to my at-home audience and blew them a kiss like I did every show. I drew in a deep breath and started the opening I’d rehearsed in the makeup room.

  “Good afternoon, Dallas. How’s everybody doing?”

  The crowd of people erupted into cheers as I clapped for joy.

  “Today, we have a very special guest here with us. Mason Baker, branded in the media as the second-coming of Steve Jobs himself, will be here with us today sharing his story, his success, and his secrets. Stick around because it’s going to be a doozy.”

  I walked back to my chair and took a sip of water while the credits for our spon
sors rolled, and it gave me just enough time to fluff my hair before the camera was back on me.

  “I could go on and on about the man standing backstage, but something tells me he wants to do that himself,” I said, winking. “Without further delay, welcome into your homes Mason Baker.”

  I stood from my chair as I watched him come out from behind the screen. He was even taller in person, standing at a looming six-foot-four. His beaming white smile contrasted with his tan skin wonderfully, making his peridot eyes sparkle more than ever. His thick, luscious mane of dark hair was parted to one side, combed back expertly as his gray suit tailored itself to every curve and dip of his strong, throbbing muscles. He shook my hand, his palm dwarfing me, and for a second, I could’ve sworn he winked at me.

  “Mr. Baker, thank you for your time. I’m so glad you could be with us,” I said as I sat down.

  “It’s a pleasure. Anything I can do to educate the city of Dallas is all right by me,” he said.

  The crowd whooped and hollered at his statement while I simply shook my head.

  “So, tell us a bit about this product. How in the world did you come up with a concept like this?” I asked.

  “To be honest, I can never find my wallet. Ever. And I got sick and tired of hunting it down at the last minute only for it to make me late. I tried going online and finding something that could work, but everything on the market was subpar.”