DOUBLE PRINCES: A Twin Step Royal Romance (With BONUS Book His Tight Little Brat)

by Cassandra Dee

  Slowly, oh so slowly, the men lifted me into a sitting position. Holt raised my bottom in his bare hands and settled me in his lap facing in, his shaft a huge club between us. The tip settled between my boobs, he was so huge, his balls pressed snugly against my hole.

  “You like?” he asked, and I merely squirmed in return. My folds had parted and my clit was smack up against the base of his shaft, rubbing against that velvety hardness. Oh yeah, he was hard and soft at once, stiff hotness covered by the soft skin, warm and loose.

  And I squirmed instinctively, grinding my clit against his rod, tentatively lifting my hips up and down to let my nub rub up against that fuckpole, it felt so good. Tremors ran through my cunt and my nips tingled as my body rocked up and down against his dick, riding up against it, the friction electrifying on my secret spot.

  And the big man chuckled deeply, pulling me closer while stroking the small of my back.

  “Keep going with the camel toe,” he ground out, “make yourself feel good, baby girl.”

  And I threw my head back and moaned, eyes closing halfway as I pleasured myself against his hardness. Oh fuck, it felt amazing and I rocked my hips furiously, rubbing myself to heaven, losing myself when suddenly my eyes flew open with a shocked gasp. Something had wormed against my ass. Could it be? No, not in my dirtiest dreams.

  But it was. Hayden knelt behind me and was stroking my anus, his big fingers rubbing the tight pleats, massaging my dark star. I gasped, the sensation incredible yet oh so wrong, nasty and depraved.

  “You’ll like it little girl,” the big man assured me, his finger making its first penetration despite my shocked gasp. “Just let yourself enjoy,” he commanded, wriggling the tip inside.

  The touch was strange but felt so right that I didn’t try to push him away. Instead, I humped myself against Holt’s dick harder as Hayden fingered my butthole, worming in, penetrating slightly into that dry cavity.

  “Oh oh oh!” I moaned, my head thrashing, my body trembling, my cunny quivering as my ass was tickled. “Ohhhhh!”

  “I knew she’d like it,” ground out Hayden behind me, “she looks about ready.”

  But the men weren’t letting me release my pleasure just yet. Slowly, oh so slowly, Holt lifted me, his big hands against my bottom so that my puss was almost level with his chin. His tongue swiped my clit for an instant and I almost came right then, the intimacy incredible, like a fever overtaking my brain. My vision literally began to blur, the tongue on my clit melding with the fingers in my behind for an incredible explosion.

  But Holt began lowering me on his fuckpole. His glans bumped up against my vaginal opening, my labia pulsing, wetness dripping down my thighs and the big man began dropping me down on his shaft. He was so big that I squealed and struggled at first, unsure that I could take it.

  “I can’t!” I squirmed uncomfortably, my pussy lips pulled apart obscenely by that massive shaft, struggling to grip him. “I can’t!” I cried again.

  “No worries little girl,” he rumbled soothingly. “Just go slow, let gravity do its work.”

  And I twisted some more, mewling, my cunny soaked, and it was the wetness that paved the way. I was dripping so much that his rod was positively coated in cream, and slowly, oh so slowly, inches began disappearing into my vag, that enormous donkey dong sliding up my private place.

  “Oh god,” I moaned, leaning forward, my boobs quivering as my cunt got stuffed. “Oh god, oh god.”

  The slide was so delicious, the fit so tight that I felt like I was being split in two. But after a couple agonizing minutes, minutes of relentless pressure, a massive rod staked my insides, buried to the balls, the shaft so deep I felt like it might pop out in my throat.

  “Good girl,” Holt murmured into my mouth, nuzzling my neck, his breath hot against my skin. “Good girl, now lean forward.”

  Because unbelievably, Hayden been massaging my anus the entire time I struggled to take his brother’s shaft, and now the big man probed my bottom with his dick, trailing the head lightly against my back channel.

  “I can’t!” I gasped for the second time that afternoon, craning my head over my shoulder, eyes wide and pleading. “I’m stuffed full already! I can’t!”

  But Hayden wasn’t deterred.

  “You will,” he ground out, “it’ll be fantastic,” and with that began the slide. He pushed me forward so that I leaned into his brother, my brown pucker on view and circled his dick around my dark star, sticky pre-cum lubing that hole.

  It was unbelievable. I was filled to the brim already, fifteen inches of dong buried deep in my cunt and there was more? But what could I do? My mind was hazy, my body awash in pleasure and to my surprise, I leaned forward voluntarily, stretching lazily, opening myself to give Hayden better access.

  “Ahhhh,” I moaned as his dick slid in, the dry rub titillating, my back end relaxed to the max.

  And Hayden nudged forward slightly.

  “Slow, slow,” he ground out, his big hands seizing my hips. “Brother, I can feel your cock through her cunny wall, it’s fucking jammed in there.”

  And with that, both men began moving, slow at first, speeding up as I moaned and gasped with pleasure. I was caught in the middle, the receptacle for thirty inches of pure dong, moving in and out in a syncopated rhythm as I shivered between two hard slabs of muscle, the double penetration delicious and oh so dirty. I squealed, I squirmed, but the men were relentless, running into my ass and cunny in a steady rhythm, drilling me, pounding me, their cocks like huge, hungry hammers.

  And finally, I gave it up. My puss spasmed, the energy running through my body in electric tremors, my clit pounding and throbbing as dicks pummeled both holes.

  “Aieee!” I squealed, clenching down on the double donkey, my orifices filled with hard male flesh. I almost fainted, stars literally appearing before my eyes, my cunny sizzling with a hundred percent pure pleasure as I clenched and spasmed on the deep meat buried inside.

  And the two men responded.

  “Fuuuck,” roared Holt, his cock quaking, shaking as it erupted inside me, shooting rope after rope of sperm into my cunny, the creamy white coating my fertile fields.

  “Daaayyuum,” grunted Hayden simultaneously, his dong jerking as man milk spurted up my rectum, spraying deep into the recesses of my GI tract, creaming me, seeding me with that precious man jism.

  And I smiled then, completely filled with their sperm, the precious cream trailing from my bottom and puss. It’s why I think back to my time at Operation Smile fondly. I joined as a girl, an intern volunteering for college credit … and came out a woman with not one, but two delicious secrets.

  PART ONE

  CHAPTER ONE

  Hayden

  It’s easy to explain our interest in Summer because she’s pretty much the opposite of the girls we’ve bedded so far. Intelligent, vivacious, with a fun-loving personality, and not stuck-up at all. She was like her name. A warm, beautiful day, the sunlight on your skin, melodious laughter filling your ears.

  So we’d watched from afar at first. Summer was the cutest thing, round and curvy in a t-shirt and shorts, translating from perfect Slovanian into English and then back again. We watched as she helped villagers fill out intake forms, read prescriptions aloud, and even care for some of the needier kids. The girl was sweet and giving, with a healthy dose of the smarts.

  But that was the problem. The brunette was smart, too smart. Normally, we have no problem passing ourselves off as Americans, with perfect accents and medical degrees from NYU. When someone asks us where we’re from, we just say New Jersey because it’s a guaranteed conversation-stopper. No one’s interested in the Garden State.

  But Summer was more perceptive than that.

  “Oh, I love Jersey,” she said, studying us closely. “Whereabouts?”

  We were ready for this.

  “Near Manhattan,” I said vaguely. “We spend most of our time in the City.”

  That got most people talking about New York a
nd what an amazing place it was, the museums, Times Square, taking the subway, visiting the Statute of Liberty. But Summer wasn’t deterred.

  “Whereabouts near Manhattan?” she asked, tipping her head in the sweetest manner. “Jersey City? Hoboken? West New York?”

  Now I had to laugh. Jersey City and Hoboken were reasonable guesses, they were nice middle class communities just across the water from New York, perfect for folks who worked in the city but didn’t want to live there. But West New York was a shitshow, a crime-ridden area filled with hoodlums.

  “Why, do we look like West New Yorkers?” I teased.

  Summer’s face colored.

  “No, not at all,” she rushed. “I didn’t mean to imply that you looked like criminals or anything, you’re doctors, I just thought … um,” she said, biting her lip, looking genuinely mortified.

  “No worries,” growled Holt. “We get it all the time,” he assured her.

  But I could see why Summer was asking. Since starting this mission, my twin and I had dressed downright sloppy, like mountain men living in the wild. When we weren’t in scrubs, we were in t-shirts with holes, frayed cargo shorts and shower slippers. She probably thought we were new grads, paying off loads of student debt.

  And it felt nice to be anonymous for once, to have someone judge you on your merits and not on your family name, the generational wealth, the entire reputation of your country lying on your shoulders. So we let it slide.

  “Actually, we’re from Fort Lee,” I said, referring to a small town in Jersey that most people had never heard about. That usually stopped the conversation, it was too obscure.

  But the girl cocked her head at us again.

  “Oh Fort Lee!” she said, surprised. “What do you guys think of Chris Christie? Bridgegate was such a fiasco for him, his political career is probably over.”

  She was referring to the closure of the George Washington Bridge by Christie’s administration, supposedly an act of political revenge on the mayor of Fort Lee. But even more, I was impressed. Most undergrads, especially attractive young eighteen-year olds, are immersed in a world of boys, partying, sororities and maybe a little bit of studying thrown in. I hadn’t expected Summer to know about Bridgegate, much less have an opinion about our governor’s career prospects.

  “Christie’s scum,” I said smoothly. “He’s doomed, there’s no way he’ll ever be elected again.” I didn’t add that my Dad had paid for Christie and his family to vacation in the Mediterranean last year, we’d hosted him on our yacht.

  “I agree,” mused Summer. “I think that’s why he’s backing Donald Trump now. If The Donald wins, Christie’s hoping he’ll be appointed Attorney General. Not that Preet Bharara or any U.S. Attorney would ever bow down to Christie,” she said hastily.

  Again, I was impressed by the girl’s knowledge of inside politics and my brother and I exchanged a glance. The brunette was so much more than your average teen, she was keen, intelligent, and insightful when it came to current events.

  And knowing that was even more reason for Holt and I to stay away. It was brutal, but necessary because we had too much at stake. It would have been amazing to spend time together, to get to know the girl, but for her safety and for the integrity of our mission, it was better to remain aloof.

  So my twin and I avoided Summer afterwards, which wasn’t too hard given that we were in surgery from the crack of dawn until late at night. The more kids we could help, the better.

  But life is unexpected and despite our busy schedules, Hayden and I cracked. We’d been fixing a cleft palate and a kid’s lip had spurted, blasting us with blood, literally spraying our faces. It’s par for the course in our line of work, happens all the time, but after the operation, we retreated to the locker room while the rest of the staff cleaned up. Yeah, a shower was in order, there wasn’t any other way to get the blood out.

  And unexpectedly, Summer let herself in, locking the door after her. We heard her immediately, humming to herself slightly, padding around the locker room before stopping in front of the sinks.

  And when she took off her shirt, Hayden and I looked at each other incredulously. What the hell? What the fuck was going on? But she’d whipped off her bra as well, setting those gazongas free, the creamy mounds like juicy balls with just the right amount of heft, the right amount of jounce. Again, I’m a plastic surgeon and know beauty when I see it.

  But when the girl had begun playing with her tits, rubbing her nipples a little, giggling at she stared at herself in the mirror, that’d been too much. My brother and I stepped out of the shadows … ready to do some serious damage.

  And what happened next was only natural for two alpha males and a pretty girl. We’d taken care to be gentle, stroking her cunny, running our tongues along her bottom lips, our fingers caressing those soft folds, petting and tasting, making sure she loved it.

  The only disrespectful part of it all was our dicks. With only towels slung around our waists, the donkey dongs poked through the rough terry like horizontal masts, pulsing with power, fifteen inches each. And the girl was taken aback for sure.

  “Oh my god,” she breathed, her nude form pink and delicious, wet with droplets. “Is it really?” she asked, a small hand reaching out to touch.

  But I batted her hand away with my big one, growling.

  “Girlie, if you’re not careful you’re going to get a lot more than a shower,” I said. “Touch that and it’s like pushing the red button on a control stick.”

  She was listening, but only sort-of. Her expression was still glazed, even worshipful as she took in our cocks, both of them ramrod straight and pointed directly at her.

  “But …” she said breathily.

  And this time when she reached out to touch Holt’s massive pole, he didn’t stop her. That little hand stroked it gently at first, tracing along a pulsing vein that ran across the top, toying at the tip with delicate touches.

  She brought her fingers to her mouth, licking gently at the tips.

  “Mmm, tastes good,” she said, her little pink tongue darting out to sample my brother’s pre-cum.

  And that was the end. I could see the lust raging in my twin, just as it did in me, both of us ready to go, to devour this little chickadee. Our cocks were already out and the female was nude, flushed and plump, ready for us.

  And so it happened, Summer riding my bro’s cock as I reamed her in the back, doing her double. It wasn’t purposeful, we hadn’t meant to DP her the first time, but she’d been so sweet, so willing, that ass so juicy, her cunny so wet, that it just worked out that way.

  And when she’d creamed with both of us inside, we knew it’d been the right call. Only the best girls are able to orgasm hard with both our rods inside, and my bro and I gave it up too, filling her with our semen, the jism leaking out wetly after it was all over.

  And Summer had sighed, wiggling her hips a little, savoring the feel of us inside.

  “Oh god,” she’d moaned, leaning back against my chest. I pulled at her nips slightly and she squealed, giggling, jiggling her hips again.

  Holt’s hands shot out to keep her steady, grip her around the waist.

  “Chickie you better watch what you’re doing,” he warned, eyes already growing dark again, “otherwise we’ll be spending another half hour in here.”

  “Oh,” moaned Summer again, eyes still closed, a half-smile on her lips. But reluctantly, she sat up and smiled.

  “I guess I should go, huh,” she murmured, “I have laundry duty today.” That’s the thing about charity work in the woods – we take turns doing laundry, there are too many soiled sheets and linens from the surgeries that everyone has to pitch in.

  “Laundry huh?” I growled, eyeing her hungrily. We were still embedded deep, her pussy and ass wrapped around our rods, and it wouldn’t be too hard to start thrusting again, to take her once more.

  But Summer was already starting to stand, pulling up, and we watched, mesmerized, as our donkey dongs exited her warm c
avities, the sweet flesh gripping us, as if reluctant to let go. Our poles appeared inch by inch, glistening, shiny with fluids, wet with cum.

  “Mmm,” she moaned as she stood, savoring the feel of two rods sliding out. “Oh mmm.”

  And finally with a last slip, we were out, her pinkness still wet and quivery, pulsing a bit as if already missing our shafts. And the brunette shot us one last smile.

  “See you around Holt, Hayden,” she murmured, while pulling on her shorts and t-shirt. “It was nice showering with you,” she said giggling, her voice trailing away as she exited the bathroom.

  And my bro and I looked at each other. The girl was curvy, ripe, and luscious, not to mention intelligent with an awesome sense of humor. We were hooked … and determined to get a second taste.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Holt

  How the hell did my brother and I end up seducing a sweet college intern in the remote mountains of Slovania? While on a charity medical mission no less? It’s a long story, but I should tell you from the beginning because it’s a juicy one for the ages.

  You know the phrase “to the manor born?” Well, that describes Hayden and I because we really are nobility. We weren’t just born in a manor – we were born in Konstadt Palace itself, the sons of King Constantine of Slovania, with titles, lands, and a massive family fortune.

  Our family wasn’t always royalty, only since oh about eight hundred years or so. Back then, there was a warlord who had a fort. Despite his fighting prowess, he was struck by the Black Death and only survived because of the diligent efforts of his personal doctor, Halborg. Grateful to Halborg, the warlord bestowed the good doctor with a landed estate nearby.

  And over the next couple generations, the Halborg family grew in prominence until they were viewed as the “Great House” of the surrounding lands. The warlord by now was long gone, his descendants scattered and fortune dispersed. But the Halborg family continued to multiply and thrive, calling themselves “Lord,” then “Duke,” then “Archduke,” and finally “King.”