The Man of My Dreams: A Forbidden Box Set Collection

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The Man of My Dreams: A Forbidden Box Set Collection Page 65

by S. E. Law


  I gasp.

  “But that’s easy. I should definitely be able to,” I say. “Especially if you’re very different.”

  The two men’s eyes gleam.

  “We’re not that different,” growls Matteo. “We’re each twenty-five centimeters and very thick. We want to know if it’s the details that help you tell us apart. A man’s movements, for example. The need and strength by which he enters you. The feel of his balls as they slap against your sweetness. The musk of his juice even, and the force of his sprays.”

  I can hardly believe this.

  “Oh my goodness,” I say breathily. “Holy shit.”

  “It’s a lot to ask,” acknowledges Matteo in a rumble. “But we think you could be the right girl for the job.”

  I swallow again, trying to get my bearings. The two men are so compelling, with their wide shoulders, broad chest, and long legs. What will they be like raw and uninhibited?

  “Twenty-five centimeters?” I ask again with a dry mouth. “Do you know what that is in inches?”

  “Ten inches,” rasps Domenico. “Can you do it, sweetheart? Can you handle ten inches twice, and then differentiate between the two?”

  I swallow again. Oh my god, I can’t believe this is happening. Of course, I’ve serviced dozens, if not hundreds, of truckers in the past. I’ve been with two men before, and let them enjoy my body simultaneously, and it was fantastic. But Domenico and Matteo take things to the next level. They want to play with me in a way that’s both novel and filthy, and I’m titillated by the idea. The question is: can I handle it? With a deep, indrawn breath, I give them my answer.

  107

  Matteo

  At first, I’m afraid that Melissa will say no. After all, it’s not everyday you’re propositioned by two men who also want to conduct a dirty experiment using your body. I’m sure she’s very experienced when it comes to pleasing men, but Domenico and I take things to the next level.

  After all, that’s why we were selected to start-up the Milan Lodge. We knew some truckers from around the Continent, and they’d mentioned Dads and Daughters to us. However, when we applied for membership, headquarters said yes but with a caveat: would we be interested in forming a new chapter in our homeland?

  Of course, we said yes. One thing about being Italian is that Domenico and I have a lot of native pride. We want Italians to be the best at everything, including language, cuisine, sports, architectural monuments, and now this. We want to have the biggest, fanciest Lodge, and have the most tasty girls to please men on this side of the Atlantic.

  Yet Melissa’s blown all our expectations out of the water with her sweet demeanor and yet knowing air. Being with her has shown us that it’s possible to have someone who’s a lady in a real life, but who’s an animal between the sheets. At least, we anticipate that that’s what she’ll become because that’s how we like our women: lusty, curvy, and with an appetite for life.

  She stares at us with that warm caramel gaze. Her bottom lip trembles temptingly, and her loose brown curls tumble over her shoulders.

  “Yes, I think I’d like to try,” she breathes. “How do we start?”

  Domenico and I share a look. This is perfect. The First Daughter has turned out to be absolutely gorgeous, and we’re looking forward to sampling her curves.

  “Well, sweetheart,” growls my friend in a low voice. “We’d love to see how you carry yourself. Without the clothing, of course.”

  She gasps and her cheeks grow pink, but I know this is nothing for an experienced daughter. She bows her head.

  “Of course,” Melissa replies before throwing us a cheeky glance. “I’d love to show you my assets.”

  With that, she carefully puts her purse down on the floor and then takes a deep breath before fluffing out her hair. Slowly, she reaches down to unbutton her v-neck sweater, and Domenico and I stare, entranced, as more and more creamy flesh is exposed. Soon, Melissa slips the sweater off her shoulders, and we gasp. Her mounds are enormous, and they’re spilling out of an innocent white bra.

  “You like?” she giggles, seeing our ravenous looks. She cups her hand below the two marshmallows and jiggles them lightly. My rod jerks and I let out a low growl.

  “We love it,” Domenico rasps. “Now your skirt, cara.”

  Smiling wickedly, Melissa nods and spins around. She’s wearing a tan leather mini-skirt that hugs her hips as well as high heels. It’s not great for walking in a construction site, but then again, with legs as long and shapely as hers, who wouldn’t want to emphasize those gams?

  With a coy look over her shoulder, Melissa begins unzipping the zipper in back. The leather splits apart, and slowly, she wiggles her skirt off her hips until the fabric pools on the floor. Then she delicately steps out and spreads her legs in a vee before bending down. She’s got a matching white pair of lacy panties on, as well as sheer, thigh-high stockings that hug her shapely calves.

  “Look,” she says coyly while bending over. “Do you like what you see?”

  At this point, both Domenico and I have our staffs out, and we’re fisting those hard rods, unable to help ourselves. She’s too beautiful, and we need to get into that pinkness. But Melissa has the upper hand because as she bends over, her bottom rises like a giant heart, and reveals her juicy pink folds within. Oh shit! The girl is wearing crotchless panties and sure enough, her sweetness peeks out at us, welcoming our touch.

  I can’t help myself. In an instant, I’m behind the sweet girl. I stroke through her wetness with my fingers, stopping to niggle her hard bud.

  “Oooh,” Melissa moans as her eyes fall closed. She leans over even more, pressing slightly against my fingers.

  But Domenico wants a taste too. He too, stands behind her, and takes the tip of his rod and lightly rubs it up and down her folds. Melissa is sensitive, and sure enough, she has “dog.” Dog is when a woman pulls you into herself of her own accord. Her hungry kitty begins to vacuum and as we watch, his tip disappears into her tiny hole. He lets out a guttural moan, and his hips draw back to begin the penetration.

  But we have a goal to achieve.

  “Stop,” I grind out. “We need to use the wall.”

  “Of course,” he rasps hoarsely before pulling out his tip. It’s already shiny and coated, both from her secretions and his need. “Let’s test the holes.”

  With that, we walk to the other side of the wall and stare at the cut-out.

  “Sweetheart,” calls Domenico roughly. “Come and place your bottom in the hole so that we can begin the experiment.”

  She lets out a mewl of disappointment, and there’s some shuffling on the other side. But then we hear heels clacking on the floor, and sure enough, her big bottom shows itself in the opening.

  “Like this?” she asks, pressing slightly. Her heart shape is huge, but it’s not all the way through yet.

  “More,” I command. “Press yourself all the way in so that there’s no give between you and the wood.”

  “Oooh, this could be difficult,” she murmurs from the other side. “I’m a big girl,” she adds by way of explanation. But big girls do it best, and this cut-out was designed especially for women who have extra poundage.

  “It’s okay,” I murmur, trying to disguise the hunger in my voice. “Keep pushing yourself through until you’re solidly jammed in there. It’s the only way because sweetheart, you’re going to need to focus your energy on feeling. We don’t want you to worry about keeping your balance when everything should be focused on where we touch you.”

  I hear some grunting on the other side of the wall as Melissa edges herself in further. Sure enough, the big heart gets pushed through until finally, that ripeness is stuck in tight.

  The visual is gorgeous and yet so dirty too. Her ass is huge and white with big, creamy cheeks and a dark slit down the middle. But it’s tempting too, and the cheeks part slightly to reveal the ruby red lips within.

  “Is this good?” she asks, her voice slightly muffled. “Can you do what yo
u need to do?”

  Domenico runs a large finger down her middle slit, and she squeals and shivers as a result.

  “Oh yeah,” he replies. “You’re perfect.” Then he turns to me. “She’s real wet, my friend. You want to go first?”

  I’ve been rubbing myself up and down, and nod shortly. I need to get into Melissa, otherwise I’m going to erupt right here on the bathroom floor.

  But this isn’t the time to go fast because I want her to feel every ridge along my tool. Slowly, I line myself up in back of that big heart and point my rod at her tiny opening. Seed glistens on my tip and her folds are ripe and ready, swollen and wet.

  “Here goes, cara,” I growl. “Enjoy it.”

  With that, I slip the head in, and she moans with pleasure on the other side.

  “More,” Melissa begs. “Give me more.”

  A gush of wetness accompanies her words, and slowly, I ease my way into those tiny depths. Oh shit, she feels so good. She’s warm, pulsing and absolutely soaked. Her sugar walls hug me tight, and I hold still for a minute inside her. This is the way a man and woman were meant to be.

  But I have to let Melissa feel all of me, including my movements. Slowly, I pull out, only to have her hole pulsing and blinking at me once more.

  “Give it to me!” she cries with desperation from the other side of the wall. “I need it!”

  Of course, I’m a man who gives generously. I slide my huge ten-inch length into her waiting snatch, impressed at how the ruby red sucks me up. Then, I pull out once more, before pressing inside. We’re both moaning now, unable to help ourselves.

  But there’s an experiment to carry out.

  “Brother,” rasps Domenico beside me. “My turn.”

  Of course. Slowly, I pull out, my rod glistening with her need, before stepping away. Then Domenico takes my place and pushes into Melissa, making her squeal with pleasure.

  “Sweetheart, do you know who this is?” I ask rhetorically. “Is it me or Domenico?”

  There’s no answer as she pants because of course, right now Melissa is merely focused on the deeds being done to her body. My friend pushes in and out of her a few times, giving it to her deep, before pulling out. Then I take his place and begin enjoying her soft, womanly hole again.

  “Oohhhh,” she moans on the other side, delirious with pleasure.

  “Can you feel it?” growls Domenico, his rod hard and ready to go. “Remember what this man feels like, and then what the next man feels like too.”

  We switch then, and my buddy slips his hardness into her. Melissa lets out another choked cry, and sure enough, her kitty begins to pulse. The walls are squeezing Domenico tight, and his balls raise as well, getting ready to spew.

  Suddenly, it happens. Domenico and Melissa crest at the same time, and she lets out a scream of pleasure as her pussy contracts with hard, rhythmic pulses. Domenico flies over the edge as well, and from my vantage point, I can literally see his rod pulsing at the base as he pumps hot seed into the fertile girl.

  But I need to get into her too, so he pulls out, dripping, and I step right in. I push into her spasming wetness and am immediately forced over the edge.

  “Fuck!” I roar. “Oh shit!”

  Hot jets of male virility spew through my pole, drenching her fertile fields with need. I pump and pump and pump, but there’s just so much. I have gallons to give, and like a good girl, Melissa takes it all.

  She mewls and moans on the other side, her heart shape the receptacle for our desires. She squeezes me dry, draining me of every last drop all the while crying out our names melodiously.

  “Matteo!” she screams. “Oh, Domenico. It’s SO GOOD!”

  With that, I pump one last squirt into her, squeezing her big white cheeks as I spasm. Oh shit. This girl has taken everything my friend and I have to give, and yet it’s still not enough. We need Melissa to be ours, in every sense of the word, and we won’t give up until it’s done.

  108

  Melissa

  I carefully work my way out of the reverse glory hole. My bottom is big and it’s stuck tight inside, but with some wiggling, I manage to get myself out.

  Slowly, I straighten. Ugh, I must look a mess. My hair is probably going in all directions, and there’s a pinkish circular crease around my thighs and lower back where I pushed myself into the cut-out.

  Not only that, but my little hole is completely used. I’ve taken two men back there, and both Matteo and Domenico were so enormous. They slid themselves fully into me, switching off with each other as I moaned with pleasure. My pink depths were plumbed, only to end with all three of us erupting with a mix of need, satisfaction, and sheer delirium.

  Oh wow! How did that even happen? I try to get my thoughts in order before the two Italian stallions appear from the other side of the wall. They’re cleaning themselves up, and I can hear low murmurs as they talk. Was I able to differentiate between Domenico and Matteo? Will I be able to tell who’s whom?

  I’m not sure. One man felt slightly thicker, and he had loose, pendulous balls that slapped against my folds every time he buried himself deep. The other man was just as long, but he has a curve in his rod that goes to the left. It probed right where I needed it, and I think I exploded ten times faster because it was hitting a particularly tantalizing spot.

  My suspicion is that the first man was Matteo, and the second Domenico, but I don’t want to let on that I already have a good sense of who’s whom. After all, this game is fun. I love pushing my body to new limits and providing pleasure for men to enjoy. This is why I exist, and serving Matteo and Domenico with my curves makes me happy.

  After a moment, the men reappear. Their huge forms loom tall and dominating in the small space, and they pause when they see me. My skin is still flushed, and I’ve since lost all of my clothing except for the lacy thigh highs and high heels.

  “I felt constricted,” I explain, gesturing to the discarded bra on the ground. “My girls like to swing free when I’m having fun.”

  Their blue eyes flare.

  “Of course,” grinds out Matteo. He steps forward to cup the left hillock and tenderly rolls the nip between his fingers before corkscrewing off with a pop. I let out a little gasp, my eyes fluttering shut with pleasure.

  “Oooh, that felt good,” I mewl, desperate for him to continue. But instead, Domenico’s procured a pack of wet wipes from somewhere, and the two men kneel before me.

  “Spread your legs, cara,” growls Domenico, both of their gazes fixed on my private vee. “We want to clean you.”

  Shocked, I do as they ask, and sure enough, the two Italian stallions pat gently at my pink folds with the damp paper. They’re tender and loving, and Domenico leans forward quickly to give me nub a quick suckle. I gasp as he pulls back with a grin.

  “She tastes like seed,” he growls to Matteo. “We sprayed her really well.”

  It’s true after all. I took two huge male loads, and even know, the goopy fluid is dripping from my private parts. It coats my folds and I want to tell them not to wipe it up, but Domenico and Matteo are focused on their goal. With gentle strokes, they clean me completely before sitting back on their heels to look at my sweetness with satisfaction.

  “Are you sore, cara?” asks Matteo in a low voice. “Your little hole is quite inflamed.”

  “I am sore,” I murmur with a cheeky smile. “But it’s okay because I have two other holes to use. As a First Daughter, I take my role very seriously,” I say.

  Immediately the two men stand to tower over me, their gazes hungry once more.

  “You’re so beautiful, Melissa, and a thousand times more than what we expected,” rasps Matteo.

  “Why?” I ask humorously. “Were you expecting a country bumpkin from Appalachia? Not that I have anything against Appalachia. My mom’s family was from there,” I say by way of explanation.

  “No, we don’t even know where Appalachia is,” says Domenico in a low, intense tone. “But yes, you’ve exceeded our expectations.
We thought we were going to get someone more American. Maybe someone who is spoiled and entitled, and demands to have things her own way.”

  “Hey!” I protest playfully. “That’s not how all Americans are! And it’s definitely not how I am. I came from nothing, don’t you remember? Shoshanna introduced me to Dads and Daughters as soon as I turned eighteen so that I would have a place to go after being a ward of the State. I have very humble roots and am definitely not entitled.”

  “Of course not,” intones Matteo.

  “You’re very humble yet resourceful,” adds Domenico in a low voice. “We’re lucky to have you Melissa. Now, tell us: were you able to differentiate between us during that experience? Could you feel the change?”

  I smile slyly at them.

  “I think I’ll need some more practice before I can say for certain,” is my saucy reply. “But I could definitely feel that there was a difference, yes.”

  The two men share amazed looks before turning to me once more with awe.

  “We’ll be happy to help you practice,” Matteo grins. “As much as you like.”

  “We’re more than excited to be of service,” adds Domenico with a wolfish grin. “How about right now, in fact?”

  At the moment, I’m already soaked in their seed, and my little hole is quite trashed. Yet, at their words, the tingle begins again. I want to be with these men no matter what happens, and with a happy smile, I nod.

  “Of course, boys. I’d love to show you how Americans like to play,” is my saucy coo. With that, it’s on. I begin to tease the handsome Italians, and in return, they begin to please me. How did life become so perfect? I’ll never know, even as I count my lucky stars.

  109

  Domenico

  It’s been three weeks since we met Melissa, and the girl has blown away our preconceptions about Americans. We thought she’d speak with a near-unintelligible twang. We thought she might arrive wearing a cowboy hat and matching boots, with maybe a couple of spurs thrown in.

 

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