Wild Beast_A Mountain Man Romance

by Katie Ford

  “What?” Sax growled. “This better be good.”

  But when he saw the face on screen, his jaw dropped, and blindly, he reached for a chair, pulling up to the monitor.

  “Holy fucking shit,” I managed. “It’s Melanie,” I choked, pressing play again.

  And fuck, our new sister was absolutely magnetic. At first she was stilted and shy, moving robotically, but it only lent authenticity to the whole thing. She was the original nubile co-ed, doe-eyed and innocent. But it got even better. Soon enough, she warmed up to the camera and was working her tits and ass like a pro, flashing bits here and there, teasing the camera, letting us dream, our dongs stiff and hard.

  “Hey big boy,” she cooed, while slurping on a nipple. “You like?”

  Yes, my brother and I liked very much, judging from the bulges at our groins. Fuck, the little girl was sexy!

  I heard a low moan from Saxon when Melanie began fucking herself with the dildo. Her snatch was so tight, so wet, that the dildo could hardly stay in, she had to shove forcefully with her wrist, that big piece of rubber coated and dripping with her fluids. Her scene ended with a magnificent orgasm, her little snatch twisting and turning on the monster, her head thrown back as she gave the sweetest of whimpers, breasts heaving as liquids dripped onto the couch.

  And as soon as the tape ended, I turned to my brother.

  “We have to get her here,” I ground out.

  “Fly her out immediately,” he agreed.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Melanie

  Things have moved really fast. After the audition, I’d confronted Lauren.

  “You said we were stripping, not doing porn!” I’d accused in the dressing room of the club, ignoring the dancers who brushed past us.

  Lauren was nonchalant, applying make-up under the bright bulb of the vanity mirror.

  “Oh stop,” she said breezily. “It was just an audition tape, no one’s going to see it except Ralph and the producers,” she said. “Plus I can tell Ralph really liked you,” she confided with a wink.

  Oh really? And what gave it away? The huge jet of semen that’d erupted when he came? The disgusting moaning sounds he’d made all throughout my audition?

  “No seriously Mel,” said Lauren, turning to face me. “Lots of girls audition at the Donkey Club because it’s a gateway to the NYC club scene. There are actually talent scouts and agents in the crowd here, you never know who you’re going to meet,” she said.

  “Talent scouts? Agents?” I practically screamed. “Did you get a look at that crowd? Rednecks without a dollar to their name!” I shrieked.

  “Shh,” hushed Lauren, looking around. “Careful what you say, some of those ‘so-called’ rednecks are regulars, don’t be a snob.”

  That shut me up. I didn’t see myself as snooty, I was part of the ninety-nine percent, not the one percent, and that was why I was stripping. So I kept my trap shut, aware that the conversation had veered off course.

  “Listen, am I going to be dancing tonight?” I demanded. Tuition was due next week, and maybe I could figure out some kind of payment program with the Trinity registrar. Seriously, anything would help.

  “Nah, Ralph says that he needs to talk with the producers first,” said Lauren casually, putting on the final touches to her make-up. “But I’m sure you’ll hear back, and soon you’ll be up on that pole, shaking that moneymaker,” she grinned devilishly. “Plus, it’s time for me to get my own moneymaker going,” she said. “See you later, babe.”

  And with that, Lauren pranced on stage, shimmying and jiggling like a real professional. Oh wait, I guess she is a professional. But she was damn good, swinging that long blonde hair, jiggling her boobies, and spreading her snatch for men to kiss and lick. Because the Donkey Club was a no-holds-barred type of place … guys got to touch, feel and smell, fingering girls here and there, pulling their dicks out as the girls circled around them. I thought I even saw a girl seat herself in a dude’s lap, throwing her head back as his cock wormed into her, but I couldn’t see very well and frankly, I was so delirious that my mind could have been playing tricks.

  So I just observed that first night, my mouth hanging open at the utter debauchery of the Donkey Club. After we made it back to Virginia, my cell rang almost immediately.

  “Melanie?” said a male voice. “This is Ralph, you auditioned for me today?” As if I could forget.

  “The directors like you and want you to fly to LA for an in-person interview,” he said. “I booked you a ticket for tomorrow at 8 am, arriving in LA around noon. A car will meet you at the airport and take you straight to the set,” he said, before hanging up abruptly.

  What the hell? Lauren hadn’t mentioned that there’d be another interview. Besides I had class tomorrow! But again … eyes on the prize. I needed money for school, and didn’t have any other options.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Saxon

  My brother and I were nervous, although you wouldn’t be able to tell just looking at us. We sat cool and composed in our office, idly watching some porn, checking our email, giving instructions to employees. After watching the audition tape, we’d been on the phone to New York immediately.

  “Get her here,” was all I said, and Ralph had made the arrangements pronto.

  Now we sat in our office, waiting for Melanie to arrive. Goddamn but life was weird.

  The door opened, and our secretary popped her head in.

  “Ms. Jones here to see you,” she said. I nodded, and Melanie made her way into the room.

  She stopped short as soon as the door closed, unable to keep the shock off her face. Because instead of some seedy, anonymous, middle-aged dude, Stryke and I sat there, immaculately groomed, looking at her with a glimmer in our eyes.

  “Brothers,” she said faintly. “What are you doing here? I was supposed to meet with the heads of Intercon Productions.

  “Sister, we are Intercon Productions,” said Stryke silkily. “Jack Strike at your service.”

  “We were very impressed by your audition tape,” I added, giving her a cool smile.

  She sat limply on the couch in our office, her chestnut hair gently waving over an oversize college sweatshirt, her ass in tight jeans outfitted with sneakers. Perfect. She’d be amazing in our “Naughty Co-eds” production.

  “But,” she stammered. “Weren’t you guys in college at USC? What are you doing here?” she said slowly.

  “Honey,” I said. “We’re still in school. But Stryke and I decided to be entrepreneurial and open our own film development and distribution production in the meantime. After all, why wait until we graduate? That’s four years of productivity wasted.”

  “Plus,” added my brother. “Porn pays a lot, if you know what I mean.”

  Melanie flushed.

  “I’m not here to do porn,” she said stiffly. “I was supposed to interview for a stripper job at the Donkey Club but they told me I had to do an in-person interview with some producers and I figured it was someone from the club,” she stated.

  “Oh yeah,” I said casually. “We don’t own the Donkey Club but we source girls through Ralph for our vids. We were pleasantly surprised, I should say, when we got your audition tape. Why were you there, Melly?”

  And hearing her nickname seemed to make her crumble a bit.

  “I don’t have money for school,” she said softly. “You know your dad’s getting military pay now, and my mom doesn’t have enough to help me with tuition. So I’ve been scrambling,” she admitted. “I’m desperate for tuition money, I love school and don’t want to drop out.”

  My brother and I exchanged a glance.

  “How much do you need?” I asked, curious. I mean, Trinity was an expensive place but could it be more expensive than USC?

  “Forty-six thousand,” said our sister, her eyes downcast, a glimmer of tears shining in those big brown pools. “Forty-six thousand that I’ll never get.”

  My brother shot me a look and I knew exactly what he was thinking. Fort
y-six was a lot, but it wouldn’t be a problem. With our little porn production shindig, we were raking in hundreds of thousands each month, and another fifty or so wouldn’t be a big deal … especially to help our sister.

  “Little sis,” began Stryke, his voice gentle and calm. “I think we have a solution for you,” he said.

  Melanie looked up swiftly.

  “You do?” she asked. “Please, I’ll do anything to stay in school, I never thought of myself as a drop-out,” she said tearily.

  “Yeah, we have some ideas,” Stryke continued. “And they all involve taking your clothes off … for us.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Melanie

  I gasped with shock. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised. I mean, my twin stepbrothers had pretty much admitted that they were running a porn distribution outfit, complete with producing original content. It’s just that we were family. And what did that mean, “taking off my clothes for them”?

  As if sensing my unspoken question, Stryke continued.

  “We make a lot Melly,” he said gently. “It’s all legal, everyone’s legit, no underage girls or any shit like that. But it involves sex … lots of it,” he added.

  “Do you mean dancing at the Donkey Club?” I asked tremulously. I had no problem with that, that’s what I’d originally intended after all.

  “Yeah, that, but maybe a little more, too. If you’re into it, that is,” said Saxon gently.

  I looked between my brothers, their blue gazes so penetrating yet warm at the same time. I could feel myself flushing, my core heating, moistening in the vicinity of these two alpha males.

  “What exactly were you thinking?” I asked softly.

  “Nothing specific just yet,” said Saxon vaguely. “Let’s just get to the tryouts,” he added.

  I’d been ready for this. “Shoot,” I said, mentally steeling myself. I was prepared to answer any questions they had up their sleeve.

  But my brothers shared an amused glance.

  “Melly,” said Sax gently. “We need you to take off your clothes … because we’re going to fuck you, hard.”

  WHAT? WTF? My shock must have shown on my face because my brothers chuckled.

  “Baby, it’s pretty standard in the adult industry to do live auditions. We have you on tape playing with a toy, but we need to get you on film with a man. And Sax and I, we do our own auditions,” said Stryke, his voice playful.

  Holy shit! The dildo hadn’t been enough? What had I gotten myself into?

  But Sax ran a soothing hand over my hip and said, “We’re not so bad, are we? Lots of other girls have no trouble at all,” he said silkily.

  And fuck, that was the thing. I was so turned on by my brothers, the thought of the illicit touching, licking and kissing, that I felt myself melting. I wanted to do it. I wanted to have sex with them, feel them all over my body, in my body, maybe even in my ass. Perhaps I was just fooling myself, but I found myself nodding, meekly adding, “Sure, so long as you guys help me with my tuition?”

  My brothers shared an amused glance before Stryke smiled, leaning over to give me a deep kiss.

  “Honey, you’ve got a four-year all expenses paid ride if you cooperate,” he growled deep into my throat.

  And I gave up to the warmness of his caresses, his big hands trailing my curves, worming underneath my heavy sweatshirt to touch my breasts, grazing the undersides before jiggling them tantalizingly.

  “Baby, you’re built just right,” he whispered in my ear. “The Double D’s, the wet cunny, you’re perfect for the camera,” he breathed.

  And it made me feel so confident, so female, so good. With a mewl, I let my brothers pull my sweatshirt off, shaking my breasts free, and then pull the tight jeans off my legs, stroking my long, golden pins as they were revealed. Finally, I stood before them in a tiny pink bra and panty set, the moisture seeping from between my legs, a dark spot visible at my crotch.

  And my brothers were fixated on the sight.

  “Dance,” commanded Sax, and I started gyrating obediently.

  Running my hands through my hair, I gave them with a smoldering gaze, running my tongue over my lips, picturing their dicks in my mouth, their cocks in my cunny. Slowly, I reached around to unfasten my bra, letting it pop free, my girls spilling out. That’s one of the things about being a curvy vixen – we’ve got mountains and valleys in all the right places, no anorexic model-types here.

  Once my boobs were free, I shook them right and left, letting them jiggle, my tits bouncing up and down, the creamy flesh like smooth vanilla mounds. Tantalizingly, I ran a finger over the areola of one, then the other, circling those deep pink nips, watching as my brothers’ eyes hardened with lust, their bodies like rocks as I pranced seductively.

  Keeping full eye contact, I lifted one of my tits to my mouth and licked the nipple, before doing the same with the other.

  “Ohhh fuck,” groaned Sax. I could see the material at his groin twitching and I giggled a bit, smiling seductively at him.

  But Stryke wasn’t to be outdone. He unzipped his zipper and a massive twelve-inch cock popped out. I almost stopped dancing, I was so shocked at the size of that dong. I mean, I’ve had sex before, but twelve inches? I couldn’t take that in my cunny, it was going to be pure hell.

  As if reading my thoughts, Stryke smiled at me, devilishly licking his palm before lubing up that monster, rubbing his hand up and down. And oh my god, my cunny started loosening, gushing with anticipated pleasure, eager to straddle him and try.

  But I wasn’t done dancing yet. Slowly, I turned around and bent over, pushing my ass out for them to see. My butt cheeks are my crowning glory. They’re firm and round, squeezable but not saggy, with just the amount of heft to make men cry. I shook my hips, making my ass bounce up and down before swaying right and left, the meaty flesh yummy and tasty.

  Finally, I began edging my g-string off. I have to admit, this was a delicate maneuver. I was so wet by now that the material was completely soaked through, the pink fabric so drenched it was stuck to my lips. Slowly, slowly, I eased the lace over my hips, pulling the string away before removing the tiny triangle.

  And this is where I got them. I know they’d been expecting me to dance around nude some more, but I wanted to give them something special. Without dropping eye contact, I brought the lace to my nose, sniffing gently, before running my tongue against the crotch of my panties, licking my own pussy juice.

  “Mmm,” I murmured, batting my lashes seductively. “Delicious.”

  Slowly, I began eating the g-string, slipping the material into my mouth, moaning as I gagged myself with my own cream. My brothers watched raptly, not even beating their dicks now, they were so fucking mesmerized by the show.

  “Fuck she’s a whore,” ground out Stryke.

  “Fuuuuuck,” was all Sax could manage.

  And they were on me in a flash. Both my steps were naked in a New York second, their male physiques perfect, all tanned, toned flesh, carved like wood. They spun me around and pushed me down so that they could inspect my cunny from the back, running their big fingers through my folds.

  “Fuck, she's perfect,” said one.

  “Tastes fucking good,” said the other, as he slurped his fingers, sniffing that aromatic female cream.

  And with a thrust, one of them shoved his dick into my cunt. I screamed at the penetration. I didn’t know which of my brothers had done it, but this was the biggest dong I’d ever ridden in my teenage life, and it literally lifted me up in the air, it was so huge. I struggled and squealed, impaled like a roasted pig, trying to edge down a bit, willing my twat juices to flow, helping me lube this monster.

  “Shhh, shhh,” soothed a male voice, hands reaching around to fondle my breasts, tweaking my nipples and squeezing that creamy flesh. “We’ll help you take us sister, all in good time.”

  And I squealed again, still squirming on that donkey dong, but calmer now. The initial penetration had been shocking. I was totally stuffed a
nd full, although I knew I hadn’t taken anywhere near the entire shaft, and I moaned lustily, reaching my hands back to part my butt cheeks, inviting them in for more.

  “That’s it,” one of them chuckled, and the dick edged in further, exploring my vaginal channel, making me moan and toss, my little pussy used and abused.

  “Oh! Oh! Oh!” I shuddered beneath them. Just when I thought the dick was all the way in, I felt something probe at my lips.

  Looking up, I glanced into the sky-blue eyes of Stryke, and he smiled at me, gripping my chin.

  “You’ve done so well with Sax in your bottom, you think you can fit my fuckpole in your mouth?” he rumbled.

  I nodded helplessly and Stryke smiled, reaching a finger into my mouth to pull out the wet g-string, the fabric utterly soaked from saliva and female cum.

  “Now that’s my type of girl,” he remarked, inspecting the lingerie before dropping it on the floor, probing again with his penis. “Open,” he commanded.