And my brothers do the same. When my head lifts from Macy’s folds, I see that every single one of us has come hard at the realization that Macy’s pregnant. There are pools of sperm everywhere, on the table, the floor, coating the girl’s body. Hell, Ford even did it on her breasts, blasting those creamy white sacks with man goo.
But Macy’s a slut. Slowly her eyes open, lashes fluttering, taking in the seven alphas at her side, groaning and milking their balls for the last drops of semen. Oh yeah, she knows what she’s done, for sure.
“Was it good?” comes her coy murmur. “Was it good for you all?”
“Unnnh,” is all Trent can manage, still stroking that fuckstick. A last small spurt jets out, splattering against the refrigerator.
“Fuck it was amazing,” rasps Ford, shaking his dick off over her breasts. White droplets paint that succulent flesh, running in sweet rivulets down the side.
But I want more.
“Sweet thing,” comes my rumble. “Now that you’re pregnant, can you still take it in your pussy?” I growl. “Because maybe it’s not safe. Maybe we’ll have to take the party down here.”
Slowly, my hand strokes through her swollen folds before dipping to that brown star, trailing over her sensitive pleats. They contract involuntarily as the woman gasps, eyes wide, staring at me over those heaving tits.
“Yeah, sweetheart,” grunts Matt. “You ready for some hard anal? With seven guys? Because we don’t want to hurt the baby, you know.”
Of course, who knows what a buttfucking would do to the baby. After all, our dicks are huge, maybe we’d nudge the child’s head even if we’re up her back passage.
But Macy goes with it. With a giggle and a sigh, she shifts on the table, lifting her legs to roll backwards a bit, hauling those thighs higher and higher until both her holes wink at us, dirty and tempting.
“There’s only one way to find out,” the girl coos. “And that’s to try. So whaddya say, boys? Should we go for it?”
And just like that, we’re on her. We want this girl until the end of time, and we’re gonna ravage and cherish the female until she screams our names, over and over again. Matt, Tim, Will, Trent, Ford, Sam and Smith. MattTimWillTrentFordSamSmith. Oh yeah. She’ll moan it until her voice is raspy, that butt fucked so hard. Because Macy’s the answer to our dreams … the woman for seven sinners who adore her.
EPILOGUE
Matt
Eight months later…
Macy’s three days past her due date, cranky and uncomfortable but beautiful and sensual still. She’s made every one of our kinky pregnancy sex fantasies come true over the past couple months. Her belly is huge, a swollen, round basketball that sometimes ripples as if an alien is inside.
And right now, that basketball-belly sits on my stomach as Macy bounces up and down like I’m a dime-store children’s ride. The woman vibrates, hungry cunt a vise on my cock, sloppy and wet. Shit, she’s got so much fluid these days, there’s literally a pool of female juice smeared on my groin as the brunette humps frantically.
“Unnnh,” she moans deliriously, big boobs swaying back and forth as my cock hits deep within. “Unnnh, fuck.”
“Come on, sweet girl,” I coax. “Give Daddy a good ride. Almost there.”
And tilting her head back, Macy explodes then. The orgasm is electrifying, her sweet puss clenching my dick, nipples tight and hard as I tweak the hard orbs.
“Fuck!” comes her helpless shriek, my hips going stiff as baby batter erupts. “Unnnh!” comes Macy’s sensual moan once more.
Because yeah, I just dumped a load inside that sweet cavern, painting the female with my man milk. Never mind that she doesn’t technically need it anymore. Macy always craves semen, every second of every day.
And now is no exception.
Panting heavily, the girl’s cunt explodes once more on my dick, juicing madly, clenching so fierce I’m afraid she’ll go into premature labor.
“Uhhhnnnn!” the female screams. “Unnh! Unnh! Unnh!”
There’s something indescribably sexy about a pregnant woman getting fucked. It’s partly that her tits are so huge now that she’d qualify for the Guinness Book of World Records. It’s partly that her cunt is so fucking wet all the time, the chick horny like never before. Oh and did I mention that ass? Yeah we drill it non-stop now, wary of disturbing the baby if we use her vag too many times.
But Macy’s a slut. She needs pussy sex, and what a pregnant woman wants, she gets. So here I am, fucking our sweet girl on the kitchen counter just like the first time, giving her the deep dicking she craves.
Our woman loves it. Throwing those brown curls back, the female moans once more.
“Unnh,” comes her pant, rocking back and forth on my joystick. “Oh oh oh yeah!”
A warm rush of cunt fluid slides over my stomach then, wet and nasty. Oh yeah, that juice is like Niagara Falls, there’s so much that I’m not sure what to do for a sec. Grab a towel? Open my mouth and let it flood inside, tasting her female nectar?
But suddenly, Macy’s eyes jerk open with a gasp.
“Oh god oh god!” she pants, scrambling to try and get up. “That’s my water! My water’s broken!”
Shit. Fuck. I wasn’t supposed to do it in her vag, the seven of us pledged on anal only so close to the due date. But she begged me for it, I swear. And now, oh shit, oh shit, the baby’s coming.
Macy’s frantic, trying to scramble up. But it’s impossible, she’s seated deep on my cock, huge and bulbous like a beach ball, slippery with fluid. Her hands and feet slide this way and that and on the marble countertop, unable to get any traction.
“Oh god!” comes her pant once more. “Oh god!” she cries again, both hands on her belly this time. It literally ripples as my eyes stare.
But I’m not worried. The baby knows his mother is loved, and this is the manifestation of that love. So slowly, I reach both arms around that ripe torso and gently lift that curvy form off me.
“Slow, baby girl,” comes my growl. “All in good time.”
And as my dick exits her warm vaginal passage, a hard contraction slams down on my cock. It’s literally the tightest squeeze ever, and a groan erupts from my chest reflexively.
But Macy’s eyes go wide.
“Matt,” she pants. “That wasn’t an orgasm squeeze. That was a LABOR CONTRACTION!”
Awww fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.
I shouldn’t have let myself get carried away.
Our heir is being born.
This very second.
So calling upstairs, I let out a roar.
“Yo! Go time!”
And six sets of feet come pounding down, a herd of elephants if there ever was one.
“Aw shit!” rumbles Matt, his eyes taking in everything.
“Fuck!” snarls Smith, staring at Macy’s nude body, the semen dripping down her thighs.
“Let’s go,” says Trent tightly, bundling Macy into a robe. “Sit still, honey, we gotcha.”
And that’s how Casey Morgan came into the world. That’s right, she was born with her seven dads watching, almost swooning at the sight of the beautiful child. It was gorgeous for sure, Macy moaning and panting, the labor difficult. And yet, everything went off without a hitch. Our daughter. Our heir is here.
Because life has turned out okay. Against all odds, we’ve made it work for the eight of us. For sure, it wasn’t easy at first. Our sweet girl was filled with doubts, having seen the wreckage of the past.
“How do I know I won’t become like Heather?” came her soft voice once more.
I hated that name. Heather. It was enough to make my dick wither.
But my bros handled it better.
“You won’t,” rumbled Will, resting one hand on top of hers reassuringly. “We won’t let it.”
“Never again,” swore Tim. “We’ll never make that mistake with you.”
But balance had to be struck in the world, and Macy wanted us to do something for the poor thing. And what our girl wants,
she gets. So yeah, we checked our ex into a facility that helps with mood disorders, and last we heard, the blonde’s put on weight and is going to therapy three times a week. She’s young still. She’ll be fine.
But more important is our relationship with Macy. Because the teen is the answer to our dreams, the mother of our child, and the lover of seven men. Yes, she takes us deep in her body all the time, screaming and crying to the heavens. Yes, she rides the dick wall with glee, humping each of our cocks one after another. Or she takes seven cocks simultaneously, opening her holes for an unbelievable pummel.
But psychologically, she’s okay too. Macy has accepted that we’ll always be the way we are, the good, the bad and the ugly for better or worse. And she’s realized that there’s more than one side when it comes to using someone. Because yes, we used her. We used that sweet female body as a vessel for our heir, as the receptacle for our desires.
But at the same time, Macy’s benefitted as well. The cookbook’s out now, published by Morgan Enterprises, and we’re in talks to buy a network. That’s right. Our girl wants to be on TV, and we’re gonna make it happen, even if it means owning the Food Channel to give her a platform.
So yeah. Benefits run both ways in this relationship, and although it sounds materialistic, that’s the hard reality of life. But underneath it all is something much more solid. Love. There’s real love, caring and adoration, and we never hesitate to reiterate how much she means to us.
“Sweet thing,” growls Ford, tracing a finger over her clit, watching as the girl moans and twists, spreading her legs even more. “Are you ready?”
She mewls a bit, titties heaving.
“I don’t know,” comes that whisper, eyes flickering as she gazes over her shoulder at Ford. “I don’t know because I’m already so stuffed.”
Because yeah, she’s seated on my thick rod already. I’m on my back, and Macy’s riding me, bent over with my pole stuffed deep inside. But this isn’t double penetration. Or it is, but not that type of deep dicking. This is double vaginal, two cocks in her puss.
Yeah, that’s right, Macy’s gonna take two dicks into that sweet cavern, two stiff, hot rods into that slutty cunt.
“You can do it,” I rasp, locking strong arms around the female’s torso so that she can’t move, those big tits squashed against my chest. “Try now,” is my low command.
And Ford does it then. His dick nudges at her hole, the tiny crevice that’s already plugged full. But sure enough, his glans finds a way in, Macy moaning breathily, writhing helplessly in my arms. And then it happens. Aw fuck! I feel my bro’s dick slide against my own, hot, heavy and hard, and our best girl lets out a shrill scream.
“Fuck! I’m so fucked!” she gasps, eyes squeezed shut, pussy stretched incredibly wide. “Oh god!”
And Ford and I chuckle in unison. Because yeah, this is how we like it. Dirty and deep, with the woman of our dreams … and we’ll never let go of Macy Jones now.
THE END
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All the Best Men: An MFMM Ménage Romance
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All the Best Men
~An MFMM Ménage Romance~
© 2017
By Cassandra Dee
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© 2017 Cassandra Dee
All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters are all productions of the author's imagination.
Please note that this work is intended only for adults over the age of 18 and all characters are represented as 18 or over.
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DEDICATION
To all the dirty girls who dream in threes.
This book’s for you!
ABOUT THIS BOOK
ALL THE BEST MEN: An MFMM Ménage Romance
I went to a wedding and came out with not one hot guy, but three.
They say weddings are the best places to meet someone.
Yeah, right.
In my putrid green bridesmaid dress, I just wanted to disappear.
But I saw the best man looking at me.
And then his friend looked too.
And then his friend as well.
Was I crazy?
Was I going nuts?
But it was true. Mason, Kane and Tyler were definitely interested, sending hot vibes my way.
But it’s wrong.
This is a wedding for crying out loud.
I’m supposed to be the maid of honor with flowers in my hair, projecting innocence and purity.
Because this is dirty and nasty, taboo as hell.
But I want it.
Bad.
Hot and hungry.
Bent over and screaming.
And the three best men?
Well they’re only too happy to do the honors …
CHAPTER ONE
Katie
“I need something blue to wear. Someone give me something blue nowwwww!”
Elaine’s howls rang through the church belfry. Because for the better part of an hour, my best friend had been ranting and raving like a lunatic on steroids.
“Nowwww!” she screeched again, causing a couple of us to shield our ears with hurried hands. “Noooowwww!”
I get that brides want everything to be perfect on their wedding day. But this was taking Bridezilla to a new level. Elaine’s tantrum had everyone terrorized, including both her grandmas and the lone cat cowering under a wooden bench.
“Damnit!” she shrieked again, face purple with rage. I swear, my friend was going to have a stroke, and then it’d be a real disaster for sure. But Elaine couldn’t be stopped. She rushed around furiously, ransacking the small room, throwing things this way and that.
“Nowwww!” she screeched again, the cords in her neck standing out unattractively. “Blue, I swear, it needs to be blue!”
I ran forwards then.
“Elaine, it’s just a saying,” I said hurriedly, one hand on her arm. “Don’t worry about it, it’s just a metaphor.”
Because what could we do? It was literally minutes until the ceremony, and somehow this small detail had slipped. But trust Elaine to overreact because she whipped her head from right to left, almost dislodging the tiara on her head.
“No!” she shrieked. “I can’t get married unless I have something blue. Haven’t you heard the old saying? Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue. I have everything but the blue item. If I don’t have it, then I’m gonna be cursed forever! We might as well get divorced nowwwww!” she wailed again, face crumpling into an ugly mask.
Oh god, snot was beginning to come out of that perfect ski-slope nose, runny yellow goopy stuff. So thinking on the fly, I did the only thing that came to mind.
“Here,” I said hurriedly, reaching down to tear a strip from the bottom of my dress. Thank god this thing was almost floor length. Hopefully no one would notice that it was now ragged at the hem. “You can use this,” I said holding up the material.
But it just made things worse. Because Elaine lunged at me then, eyes wild, nails ready t
o scratch.
“Are you crazy Katie?” she shrieked. “That’s green, not blue!”
I ducked out of the way, saving my own life. Anyone else would have quit right about now. But like a trooper, I plowed on ahead.
“Here,” I said hurriedly, fumbling for a blue magic marker that just happened to be lying on a nearby table. Uncapping the felt pen, I colored the strip of green silk until it was blue in the center. It was ugly for sure, a first-grader could have done better, but hey, difficult circumstances call for ingenious solutions, and this was my MacGyver attempt.
“Here,” I pushed the strip of silk towards her. “It’s blue now.”
Elaine took it, eyeing the ribbon suspiciously.
“This is still green,” she said imperiously, sniffing. “I can’t use it.”
Exasperated, I grabbed the material from her again, coloring furiously once more so that it was definitely blue. Sad and limp-looking yes, but still better than nothing.
“Here,” I said as calmly as possible, pushing it into her hands. “This is blue.”
Elaine’s chin began to wobble.
“Bu- but how am I going to wear it?” cried Elaine tearfully. “I’m decked out to the nines in my wedding gown, how am I gonna wear this?”
A tear perched precariously on the edge of her black lashes. Oh god, oh god, disaster was coming. Because Elaine had on globs of mascara, almost like spiders around her eyes. And if she cried, black streaks were gonna run down her face, making her look like a witchy ghoul. We’d really be done for then.
And like a nightmare, the wedding march started outside, organ strains rising melodiously from behind the closed church doors. Uh oh. Time to pull out all the stops and get this show on the road.
Prison Fling Page 53