All the Best Men: An MFMM Menage Romance

by Cassandra Dee

  Hmm, identical or fraternal? My mom probably had no idea so I immediately began googling again. Damn it. “Jones” and “twins” and “White Plains” still turned up nothing. I needed first names.

  But my mom was useless.

  “I’m sorry honey,” she sighed. “I just can’t remember. But they’re nice boys, Gordy said they were really athletic, maybe wrestlers? Or soccer players? I’m sorry baby, this deal has drained me.”

  I shook my head silently from my seat on the bed, the laptop glare reflecting on my face. Well, at least Virginia brought in the big bucks for how hard she worked.

  “How about my new school?” I asked. “Do you know the name of that?”

  My mom shook her head miserably.

  “Ana, right now I just can’t. This transaction is about to close, it’s a six billion dollar deal. Could you ask me in the morning?”

  I heaved a sigh of exasperation but let it slide. It was just Mom being Mom again. With a sigh I got up, snapping my laptop shut, picking up the cord.

  “Remember we have the wedding dress fitting tomorrow, you need to be there,” I warned.

  “Oh don’t worry honey,” she said, looking up quickly. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I asked the tailor to come to my office, it’s easier that way, we can do it right in my office.”

  That was smart actually, otherwise my busy mom would probably blow-off her own appointment. And in fact, I had an idea.

  Running into my room, I came back with a long garment bag.

  “Mom, do you think you could ask the tailor to hem this dress tomorrow?” I asked, pulling off the cover to reveal a long, pink gown. It was gorgeous, floor length, made of a filmy chiffon with a strapless bodice and demure waist sash.

  “Oh honey, it’s beautiful,” praised Virginia. “Is this your maid of honor dress?”

  “It is,” I said, pleased with myself while looking it over again. It was modest with just a hint of sexiness, perfect for a daytime event. “It’s just a little too long, so if you could ask them to take off three inches at the bottom, that’d be perfect.”

  “Sure baby, I’ll ask them tomorrow,” said Virginia.

  But that was the problem. When I pulled out the dress the next day, it’d been transformed into a mini-dress.

  “What happened?” I gasped. “I said take off three inches, not three feet!” I wailed.

  “Honey, I’m so sorry,” apologized Virginia. “I think it still looks okay,” she added hesitantly.

  “No it doesn’t!” I cried, looking at myself in the mirror. What had previously been classy and elegant was now indecently short, the hem at the tops of my thighs. If I bent over, you could even see the tiniest bit of underwear.

  But my mom just tsked.

  “Baby, don’t worry, the dress looks better this way,” she soothed. “You’re so tall, no one will notice.”

  “What are you talking about?” I said plaintively. “The problem is that I’m so tall. All you see are miles of skin now, if I were shorter, this dress would still be a decent length,” I wailed. “I’m going to be humiliated. I can’t wear this.”

  My mom stood by, her mouth pursed, looking miserable.

  “Here,” she said, taking the veil off her head. “Maybe if we drape this material around your waist, it’ll cover a little more,” she began.

  “Mom no!” I said pitifully. “That’s your wedding veil, I can’t steal your veil on your wedding day, that’s so inappropriate.”

  “Honey, I don’t mind,” she rushed. “Here, doesn’t that look nice?” she asked hopefully, turning me to look in the mirror.

  And I looked at myself with dismay. Virginia was no artist and the gauzy veil was wrapped around my legs awkwardly, looking like a giant filmy band-aid.

  “No Mom,” I said miserably, unwinding it from my lower half. “Here, it’s yours, I’m just going to have to walk down the aisle in this outfit.”

  “I swear honey, you look good, no one will even notice anything’s wrong,” she said. “No one knew that it was supposed to be long,” she called after me as I ran off.

  But I couldn’t be consoled. It was so embarrassing, practically looking like a hooker at my own mom’s wedding, and I ducked out the service door to get outside. I didn’t want anyone seeing me and figured I’d make a last minute entrance, stepping out onto the grass when the wedding march began. No sense in going out a second sooner, it was better to avoid as much humiliation as possible.

  In the meantime, out in the parking lot the sun beat down on my head, stray cigarette butts under my heels. Gross. Instead, I moved towards the woods on the side, resolving I’d stand in the shade and hide out until the ceremony began.

  Furtively, I spied on the guests. The country club was filled with people, no one whom I recognized. There wasn’t much to say about the crowd except that they looked rich. Like dripping with dollars rich, fur stoles, expensive watches, swilling liquor like there was no tomorrow. Definitely my mom’s clients.

  But two guys did catch my eye. In fact they caught every woman’s eye, our bodies running with heat, cunnies growing damp. The men were identical twins, visible even from a distance, tall and dominant. Six four at least, with black hair that seemed to absorb light and imposing builds, pure male animals moving with athletic grace.

  I watched, blushing, as they came closer to my edge of the woods, shrinking further behind a tree. Damn, these leaves were loud and I cursed the fall foliage for making leaves crispy, crackling static. My shoes weren’t helping either as I tried to step gingerly, stay as silent as a mouse.

  But the men drew nearer, oblivious to my secret place. I couldn’t hear what they were saying but the rumble of their voices was audible, a low growl that set my female instincts on fire. Damn, having those voices murmuring dirty words in my ear? In my dreams, I sighed.

  The men moved closer and closer, drinks in their hands, and I saw that they had deep blue eyes and identical clefts in their chins. They almost caught a glimpse of me and I ducked behind a tree again, my breath catching. Oh shit. The crackle of twigs under my stupid heels was ridiculously loud and the men turned my way, heads swiveling, blue eyes taking in everything.

  That was it. In a panic, I made a dash for it deeper into the woods. I’m not sure what came over me, but like a wild animal I began crashing through the trees, my dress catching on brambles, tromping through spiderwebs, a rain of leaves cascading into my hair.

  Not knowing which direction I was headed, I stumbled along, falling to the floor more than once, gasping, picking myself up and then running again, only to trip and fall. My dress was soiled, but I wasn’t thinking straight and finally, I burst into a meadow, the sun shining brightly overhead, the green grass alluringly soft.

  With a relieved gasp, I collapsed into a mess on the ground. Surely I’d lost my pursuers. I was just about to pick myself off the ground when soundlessly, the two men appeared at the edge of the glen, their tall, silent forms materializing seemingly out of nowhere. I was the prey … and caught.

  About to scream, I was already inhaling for a piercing shriek when suddenly the men made eye contact and warmth flooded my chest, lulling me into a sense of calm. Isn’t this what predators did with their prey? Stun them, because the end is near?

  But the men weren’t my demise … they were my saviors. Without saying a word, they moved to either side of me, their twin forms stealthy, swift, towering over me on each side and I saw what I needed. My deliverance. Two cocks, the material straining at their crotches, waiting to be kissed.

  And immediately, my cunny started rushing, the warm, wet fluid coursing from my inner channel to wet my panties, my nips standing on end, my mouth hungry, desperate already. My g-string was soaked through, the pale pink material a sopping, dark satin.

  If I’d been thinking like a rational person, I would have gotten up, brushed myself off and introduced myself before making an exit. It wouldn’t have been graceful, I was totally bedraggled, my clothing in tatters, but it was b
etter than nothing.

  Except I was nowhere near thinking straight. Instead, I’d been overcome by some sort of dazzle, completely overcome by the masculinity in front of me, the scent of male musk so close to my face, making my body gush, my boobs tremble, my insides quiver with need.

  And like a woman in a trance, I got up on my knees and began stroking. Reaching to the twin on my right, I unzipped his fly and a massive piece of meat bounced off my cheek, that fifteen incher literally popping out like a gopher from its hole, enormous, the tip already dripping with arousal.

  “Kiss it,” commanded the man, his blue eyes penetrating, compelling me to obey. And like a mesmerized doll, I did, reaching my hand to stroke it once, twice, savoring that meaty length before opening my mouth and depositing a sweet half-kiss, half-lick to his deep pink glans, the helmeted skin smooth and soft, coming away with a smear of cum on my lips.

  Oh god it tasted good, salty and sweet at once, all man and totally satisfying.

  Shutting my eyes, I went with it and blindly reached for more cock, my mouth questing, achingly desperate to take more. Sure enough, another pole came my way, bumping my cheek gently, and I opened my mouth to suck it into my warm, wet cavity, laving it with my tongue, tracing the hard ridges with my mouth, worshiping, like a priestess devouring her god.

  It descended into a frenzy from there. I needed to taste those dicks, to explore where I’d never gone before, and I caressed those massive shafts, savoring every inch, tracing the seams of their ball sacs, massaging the secret space below, even reaching down and tickling the anus of one man, feathering him a bit before he grabbed my hair with a warning glance, tugging hard and putting my mouth back where it belonged.

  But the best was coming yet. It was a shock, I admit, when they stuffed me with two. I’ve never even sucked one dick before, let alone double, but now I was like a woman on fire, tingles running from the tips of my boobs to jet down to my cunny, my womanly vee running like a stream, my juices pouring onto the ground below.

  So when the men nudged my mouth with both their dicks, I did the only thing I could … open. And sure enough, but those fifteen inchers probed in, those massive glans pushed into my warm, wet cavern, stretching my lips, forcing me to open, wider than I ever thought possible, pre-cum dripping from my lips, my breathing labored even as I looked up at the men with dumbfounded delight.

  “She’s good, isn’t she?” rumbled one, stroking my hair.

  “Oh yeah,” replied the other. “Oh yeah.”

  And that’s how I got off two men at once with my mouth. They pulled and pushed into my little lips in syncopated rhythm, their handsome faces hard with pleasure, eyes gleaming until with a grunt, simultaneous jerks of their hips, the men came, filling me with jet after jet of hot semen, sperm shooting down my throat, choking almost, that sticky fluid too precious to lose and I swallowed again and again, unwilling to waste a single drop.

  I looked a mess as they pulled out, those long, veiny lengths leaving me feeling curiously empty, but the men merely laughed, reading the question in my eyes, stroking my hair again.

  “It was good, wasn’t it, little girl?” they asked, their voices deep.

  And I nodded. It’d been beyond good, amazing in fact, because I’d come like a volcano when they spurted, my little pussy down below clenching in pleasure, humping, spasming, leaking nectar as my mouth was drummed up above.

  And the men, seeing the wet spot under me, chuckled deeply, their eyes sweeping over me with satisfaction, a sated wood nymph, nude for their gaze, filled with their seed.

  “We’ll see you back at the wedding,” teased one, zipping himself back up.

  “Oh yeah,” agreed the other, shaking off his dick before covering it up, the droplets hitting me, that special, warm jism a memento.

  And suddenly they were gone, disappearing into the woods in a flash. Oh god, oh god. The men were guests at my mom’s wedding, and I was going to have to get up in front of them and read a poem about eternal bliss and the sanctity of marriage … with the taste of their sperm in my mouth.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Stacey

  Skulking at the edge of the forest, I caught a glimpse of Jenny and grabbed her from the crowd. Virginia had let me invite one friend, and Jenny was turning out to be a lifesaver.

  “What happened to you?” she gasped, looking me up and down. I looked terrible. My pink outfit was torn in several places, the material dirty and stained.

  “Listen, no time to explain,” I rushed. “Switch clothes with me, the ceremony starts in ten minutes.”

  “But ...” she stuttered, “you’re so much taller than me! We’re not the same size at all,” she said, her voice trailing off.

  “It doesn’t matter,” I whispered, desperate, “Come on!”

  And silently my friend obeyed, her expression still doubtful. But I was clearly in a bind, and this was my only option.

  So now I was wearing Jenny’s pale yellow sundress, so tiny on me that if I breathed deeply, the bodice threatened to rip, exposing my boobs. Well beggars can’t be choosers, and besides, the wedding march was starting already. Showtime.

  Taking a deep breath, I stepped out, my high heels sinking into the grass. Oops! I narrowly avoided tripping but after everything that had happened today, it was the least of my worries.

  It’s kind of embarrassing to admit but even at this important moment, I was still distracted by the unexpected encounter. How could I not be? The feel of those massive dongs in my mouth was unforgettable, the tangy taste of semen still on my tongue.

  Except as I drew near to the minister, the bower of flowers parted and I was looking straight at a man with penetrating blue eyes … and he stared back at me, his brother at his side.

  I stumbled slightly, causing the crowd to gasp. Oh my god, I shrieked internally before taking a deep breath, keep going, keep going, things will be fine. Because the twin gods, those gorgeous men I’d just blown were my new stepbrothers, Peyton and Pax.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Pax

  “What do you think?” drawled my brother.

  He could have been referring to the setting, the guests who milled around, even the cute waitress who kept trying to catch our eye. But I knew what he was talking about, or more accurately, who.

  And that was the girl twirling around the dance floor, her dark blonde hair swept into an immaculate updo, tendrils clinging around that lovely, swanlike neck, the slope of her shoulders feminine and sweet.

  Because she’d found a new outfit, a yellow number, but it was still definitely her. Oh yeah, and if I wasn’t mistaken those lips looked a little swollen and ripe.

  Now would be the time that I gave you her name, said yeah, this is Cindy, Jane, Claudia, anything. But the fact is we didn’t know her name, didn’t know the name of the girl we’d just been with. It’s not that unusual, actually. My brother and I aren’t known for being the most honorable guys around, we’re not looking for a long-term relationship or even a short-term one, come to think of it. So for us a relationship was only good if it lasted an hour … or three on a good night.

  And if you’re thinking it takes two to tango, then you’re wrong, three works just as well. My twin and I, well, we always shared things growing up and we haven’t stopped even now, especially when it comes to girls. Blondes, brunettes, redheads, so long as she’s gorgeous and willing, then why not?

  But right now, our attention was drawn by only one gorgeous girl, and that was our illicit liaison in the forest. Watching her glide smoothly on the dance floor, you wouldn’t know that she’d done two men an hour ago, hungry and panting on her knees because at the moment she was being whirled around by an old geezer. The guy had to be sixty at least, holding her way too close, his hand pressing insistently on the small of her back, forcing her into his personal space.

  But that’s the thing with old, rich guys. They always think their money is a trump card and they’d buy their way into bed even if they couldn’t get it up without two
hours of foreplay and a blue pill.

  But our girl wasn’t into it. She was craning her neck backwards, a forced smile on her face, trying to laugh and make awkward conversation instead of being pressed into full-body contact with the dude.

  Without a word I began making my way across the dance floor, my face giving nothing away.

  “Ahem,” I rumbled, tapping the old man on the shoulder. Instead of wearing a suit in black, grey, or navy like a normal wedding guest, he’d put on a pinstripe get-up with a cravat, natty like a Mad Hatter. This might have been trendy back when he was a young man, but not now.

  But I’m not one to pick fights with senior citizens, so I asked politely, “May I cut in?”

  The girl shot me a grateful look, she was on the brink of being molested by this dude, I could see a gnarled hand creeping towards her ass, just about to land on that luscious mound.

  But the old man had clearly set his sights on bedding her this evening and instead pulled her closer, forcing that nubile body into contact with his aging, wrinkled self. The girl gasped with disgust, unable to stifle her reaction, but the old man didn’t even notice, he was so used to his money doing the talking.

  “Scat,” he sneered. “Ana’s busy.”

  Ah ha, so her name was Ana. That was pretty, and I mentally filed it away. But in the meantime, “scat”? What was that, slang from the Stone Age? Whatever, I kept my calm, my massive form towering over him, twice his height and three times his weight.

  “Pardon me,” I said smoothly, “but I’d like to get a dance in with the prettiest girl at this party before it’s over.”

  The girl flushed shyly and shot me another grateful smile, innocent and beautiful. Damn, but appearances can be deceiving. If I hadn’t shot my sperm into her just hours ago, I would have thought she was an angel, someone with zero experience with hungry males. Clearly I was wrong, girls are a tricky lot.

  But back to the problem at hand. The old dude wasn’t giving up and instead, reached into his pocket to pull out a bulging money clip.