by Katie Ford
Not able to manage? That was hard to believe. Again, we’re professionals with the most elastic bodies, the most accommodating sweet spots. Not being able to manage meant something real special.
And as a matter of fact, it was my turn to do a blue light. It’s the most depraved thing ever, I can’t believe I’m so into the specials, they make my insides tingle, my toes curl with anticipation. Whatever happened to sweet little Karlie, high school senior? But I know inside I was never that sweet. I was demure, sure, but it was a disguise. Inside, I was hungry, pure and simple, dreaming of multiples, being taken in every way, shape and form.
And my brothers were the stars of the show … in my mind at least. It was their giant donkey dongs that I imagined, loving, sucking, fucking, doing them this way and that until we collapsed in a sweaty mess.
But it was purely in my brain because Cain and Colt were ignoring me still. Or even worse, not even ignoring, less than that. I was an afterthought to them, just someone who happened to live in their house like a piece of silent furniture.
Of course I watch them, silently moaning from behind their door as the boys banged one girl after another, totally unaware of my presence. It was so unfair. Why was I always on edge around them, electrified by their very proximity, while they were completely oblivious to me?
But mornings were practically routine at this point. A beautiful girl coming down the stairs, her hair disheveled, her body sore, limping sometimes from the double pummel she’d gotten the night before.
Me, on the staircase silent as a mouse, looking on with wide eyes, dressed in my jammies, a stark contrast to her negligee, torn in a couple places, one lacy strap slipping over her shoulder, almost baring a rosy nipple.
“Hey,” one of my brothers would grunt, the other reaching for a coffee.
“Hiya,” she’d coo, her eyes flirtatious, a couple hickeys on her long, slim throat.
“Oh hey, want some breakfast?” they’d ask casually, tossing back a carton of orange juice in the meantime.
And the girl would simper, make some excuse about how she was never hungry in the mornings, but her eyes inevitably swung back to the boys, ravenous even though they’d just put her through the wringer.
“Colt, Cain,” she’d begin, “When am I going to see you next?”
That always brought a moment of silence but my brothers had seen this movie before.
“Soon, chica, soon,” said Colt between mouthfuls of sausage.
“Did you say tomorrow?” the girl cooed. “I’m free starting at 3 p.m.”
She was probably free all day, she’d cut school, quit her job, do whatever they wanted, anything to be with the twins again.
But my brothers were pros, this was routine morning-after chitchat.
“Naw,” drawled Cain. “We’ve got practice, there’s a game coming up. Maybe after.”
Now it was her turn to pout.
“But when?” she demanded, her voice rising to a whiny high-pitched squeal. God, it sounded bad. It was kind of arousing when they were fucking her, drilling her front and back, but now it just sounded like nails on chalkboard.
Colt answered nonchalantly.
“Chica, you know we have a big game coming up, we can’t make any promises. But we’ll see you around, okay? Cain and I loved last night, it was awesome and we have a keepsake for you.” And with that, he reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a used condom, the latex limp and slimy, the tip filled with white bubbly which could only be one thing.
“Oh my god!” breathed the blonde. “Is this the one …?” her voice trailed off.
And my brothers nodded. I knew exactly what they were referring to, I’d been spying on them again, masturbating to the threesome. Colt had drilled her good, coming hard in that pretty pussy, filling the condom with cum. And then after all was well and done, he’d unrolled it, getting ready to toss it I was sure.
But instead, he’d handed it to Cain, who took the rubber while grunting with satisfaction.
“Oh yeah, stretched out,” he rumbled. “Perfect.”
And my eyes flew open at what happened next. Because he started pulling the used condom over his massive donkey dong, straining, his dick pushing this way and that as it was sheathed in tight rubber, the latex constricting his penis. It must have been painful, his face was a blend of agony and ecstasy, but finally the job was done and he had the condom on, the tip already filled with jizz.
“Turn around little girl,” he grunted. “It’s time.”
And with that, the fucking continued until both my brothers came again, this time Cain shooting his baby batter into the used rubber, that precious cream mixing until it was a perfect blend of DNA.
And now they were offering it to Chrissy as a take-home prize, a souvenir from their night together.
“Oh god,” she moaned, looking at the rubber, holding it up to the light as she licked her lips, remembering the depravity. “Yes, yes, yes,” she sighed.
And with that, Colt and Cain were done. They were courteous, showing her to the door, helping her on with her coat, even walking her to her car, slamming the door behind her.
But when they got back to the house, it was almost as if the girl had never existed.
“Good pussy,” grunted one to the other.
“Amazing,” agreed the other, and that was it. It was onto the next one, I knew we’d never see her again.
And believe it or not, I’ve witnessed this scene multiple times, my brothers bringing up a string of beautiful, creaming women home, the females only too happy to service gorgeous twins. It’s been frustrating, my body shaking and trembling as I watch girl after girl get taken… wishing it were me.
So I’ve been going to the Donkey on nights when I’m desperate, when I have to let the real Karlie out, put myself on display, live my own life, and tonight was going to be my first blue light special. I’d thought about it some … was I really ready to have sex in public? And after five minutes of deliberation, I knew the answer was yes. I wanted it, I wanted to get dick in pussy in full view of an audience, feel the added stimulation of hungry men’s eyes watching me get drilled.
And when Joy squealed about the football team, my interest was piqued. Because that’s what we do for blue lights. It’s not like we go out there and bang a random dude, most girls prepare a little. The standard protocol is to scope out the audience, pick out a hot guy or two, home in on your prey before the show started.
So I peeped out, looking into the gloom and gasped. The entire Saratoga Eagles football team was there, and my brothers were at the center, those chiseled faces, the athletic builds unmistakable even in the dim light.
Holy shit! This could be my chance to do Cain and Colt, it was exactly what I needed. But I didn’t want anyone to know that I was doing them. What to do? Hmmm.
I turned to the “treasure chest” we keep backstage. It’s a box stuffed to the brim with all sorts of things that strippers might need … pasties, lube for you know where, double-sided tape, and props, leftover from past shows.
And oh yeah, the props we use are wonderful … toys, dildos, balls, gloves, and more. I fumbled through the chest until I found what I was looking for. A discreet mesh mask, the fabric as sheer as a stocking, with a cut-out for the mouth. It was perfect, it’d hide my features, giving me an air of mystery, while letting me see the crowd without any problem.
I donned it, and then pulled on a blonde wig to better disguise myself. Thank god it was dim in the club, the wig wasn’t exactly expensive, you’d never think that this was my real hair by daylight. But so long as it covered my brunette locks, that was enough.
So once the blue light flicked on overhead, I assumed my place, crouching in the cardboard box in the corner. It wasn’t exactly classy, no cake or giant shiny present, just a cardboard box that looked like part of the weekly recycling. But I loved it, because no one suspected anything.
And the spotlight felt so good as I languidly pulled the box apart to show my limbs, w
arm, bathed in the golden light, until I was completely revealed. The roar from the crowd enormous, the men’s grunts and growls turning me on, making me shimmy and shake ever more sinuously, baring myself for the male attention.
But I knew what I wanted. The Eagles were in the back, a group of massive men, toned, athletic alpha males. Colt and Cain were dominant among them, a head taller, darker, with a predatory air even in the dim atmosphere.
I sashayed to the back as stray hands trailed over my curves, men unable to resist stroking my golden flanks as I made my way through the tables. What can I say? This is the Donkey, patrons like to touch.
But I was like a magnet drawn to a pole, my brothers were beckoning, their eyes following my every move, glued to my curves. And finally I stopped in front of Colt, my body twisting in time to the beat, moving with the music.
“Hi big boy,” I breathed. And it was spot on because he had his dick out, that massive boner pointing straight at me, fifteen inches to the max. I gasped and stilled for just a second. Oh my god, what was I getting myself into? Could I take it? Could I do it?
But I was determined to try. They obviously had no idea who I was, no one did. The football team had closed like a circle around us, the heat of male gazes turning me on, making my body squirm with an intensity that jolted me to my toes.
With a delicate red nail, I traced Colt’s boner, reaching down to squeeze his sacs, running those balls between my fingers before massaging a vein that pulsed along the top, the beats growing more insistent as I stroked it.
“Like it big boy?” I breathed again, smiling under my mask.
And Colt was in the grip of a pre-orgasm already, his jaw clenched, head thrown back as he struggled not to move, his dick literally shaking with energy as I palmed it. I took the opportunity to reach down and massage that little space below his sacs, that sensitive spot that only the dirtiest of girls know, smiling slyly.
And that did it. With a roar, Colt seized my hips and pulled me onto his lap, spinning me around so that I faced forward. With big hands, he pushed me down so that my legs were up on his shoulders, headfirst between his knees. What the? This was a position that I’d only seen on-screen, done by professionals. Oh wait, but I was a professional now.
And I didn’t have long to wait. With a gust of warm air, he was on me, his mouth kissing my twat, savoring each slick fold, devouring me from up above.
“Aieee!” I squealed, squirming, almost losing my balance in the precarious position. But Colt held me securely, he was a big man, those thighs like tree trunks, his biceps bulging as he pinned his prey in place.
It was so delicious that I almost passed out, right then right there, with a dozen men’s eyes on me, my pussy getting licked in clear sight. But I hadn’t counted on what happened next.
Cain took his place in front of me, I could see the tips of his shoes in my sightline. And my brother had unfastened his jeans, I know because there was the unmistakable fall of sticky substance to the floor, another drip drip as he maneuvered closer, the sticky cum the liquid of life.
And then, oh god, I felt another pair of lips on my ass, caressing the round mounds, lightly tickling my cheeks with his tongue, making the hairs on my body stand up with electricity. So this is what it felt like to have two men on you, two aroused, hot, hungry twins determined to take.
And while Colt sipped at my cunny, Cain made his way over to my crevice, lightly tonguing that beautiful flesh, the skin bouncy and elastic, filled with my arousal.
But suddenly his knees straightened as he stood abruptly.
“Karlie,” he ground out, for my ears only.
And I gasped. Cain had recognized me – from the contours of my ass, the rolling hills and mounds unmistakable although he’d only kissed me there once before.
I started squirming with panic, my legs flailing a bit, my breath coming in pants as I struggled to right myself, but Colt’s arms locked in place, holding me down. Thank god my face was buried between his knees, out of sight from the crowd, because the shock was probably visible even through the mask.
I kept squirming, but Colt’s big biceps were relentless, I was immobilized.
“Stay still,” he ground out into my pussy, his voice muffled by my folds. “Don’t move,” he commanded.
And Cain reached over then to stroke my back, running his big hands down the curves, like he was calming a wild animal. Surprisingly enough, it worked. I felt a sense of peace descending, the fear and panic dissipating as his big hands massaged, my muscles relaxing, my breathing growing even.
“So little girl,” he rumbled as his hands did their magic. “This is where you’ve been.”
I couldn’t reply, I was upside down in Colt’s lap but I wiggled my ass in response, drawing chuckles from the men.
“Oh yeah, this is where she’s been,” agreed his brother, and I was again surprised. They’d noticed my absence? Colt and Cain, who barely noticed that I was even alive?
But the boys weren’t done yet.
“We’re gonna go easy,” rumbled Cain. “This isn’t the time or place,” he said to his brother.
Colt just grunted his reply.
“But we can make her cream hard,” he said emphatically.
“Oh yeah,” rumbled Cain. “Oh yeah.”
And with that, big fingers skipped over my pussy to toy with the string between my legs. Because guess what else had been in the treasure chest? Oh yeah, a big pink ball that you insert in your private place. It’s basically a giant ben wa ball, rubber, ribbed, and I’d almost come just inserting it.
“Oh yeah, love this,” rumbled one, his breathing hot on my ass cheeks.
“Do it,” commanded the other. And the fingers began tugging.
I’ve had things pulled out before, it feels amazing, the slide, the delicious passage through my channel, stimulating my insides, rubbing against the g-spot. But the twins finessed it, using subtle technique that made me moan with longing.
The fingers would pull, and then stop, pull and then stop. And I could imagine what the football team was seeing. The pink ball, emerging in glimpses, a peek of pink visible each time they pulled, then disappearing back into my folds, then reappearing again, this time more, before retreating back into my wetness.
It felt so good, I began creaming, the viscous white lubing the ball, rising to the top to the hoots and hollers of the team.
“Get her,” shouted one guy.
“Fuuuuck,” ground out another, no doubt palming himself.
“Oh fuck yeah,” gasped another and from the unmistakable spattering sound, I knew he’d just come, jizz hitting the floor.
It went on for minutes, my brothers teasing me, that ball slowly making its way out, one step forward, one step back, showing itself between my lips, my little cunny stretched and pulled.
And finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. A big finger had reached for my clit, stimulating that little dick, giving it a massage and with a squeal I let go.
“Aieee!” I screamed, my legs straightening, toes pointing as I clenched, my puss shaking with an earthquake of spasms. I couldn’t control it, I was upside down, the plaything of two gorgeous men as ten more watched. My cunny seized, hard, and the ball was forced out with an audible pop, the squelching sound so wet, spatters of my cream flying all over the place.
As if in reply, dribbles of jizz hit the floor, the sign of a dozen men coming hard, their dicks giving it up in the walls of the Donkey Club. Oh yeah, I’d done it. I’d touched only two, but my delicious body had made a roomful of customers spurt, their life force ejaculating with a chorus of moans and hard groans.
And what happened next was even more shocking. Or maybe I should have expected it because dollar bills began to float, drifting down to my hair, landing on my naked body, forming a circle around Colt, Cain and I, like a massive snowfall in green.
We’d made it rain. My brothers and I … together.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Colt
It was un-fuc
king believable. We’d headed to the strip club as part of our “make it rain” tradition. The belief is making it rain for strippers brings good luck, you’ll demolish the opposition in the next game.
And it’s pretty fucking awesome. Guys like Harry, who’s as big as a refrigerator, standing onstage, showering the girls with dollar bills, hundreds if not thousands in cash, intent on upping his karma.
Or Mikey, who uses fifties, his own personal interpretation of the tradition. But whatever it is, we do it before each game, picking a joint where the girls are willing and hot, the money stream flowing like continuous lava.
And the Donkey is one of our favorites. We knew the blue light was coming, we’ve done it before, witnessed all sorts of shenanigans. Last time Mikey did two girls at once, and that was a mistake … he blew his load so hard he could barely make it onto the field the next day.
But fuck, what happened last night was totally unexpected. The stripper had been gorgeous, her body curvy, those flanks golden and gleaming in the low light. And the mask, the red lips, it turned us on, I could feel my body temperature soaring with each twist of her hips.
But something about her had seemed familiar. I couldn’t put my finger on it at first, I was in the throes of pleasure, but the back of my brain was whirring, logging each move, each sinuous glide, something about her was different.