One Bride for Five Brothers

“I don't know how many ways to tell you, Vanessa. Are you saying you're still not convinced? Is that why you want to go to China?”

“China? What's in China?” Hank interrupts, scowling.

Vanessa waves her hands and shoots me a look. “Nothing! It's nothing. We were just talking.”

“I hope you were talking about Germany,” Charlie says, closing in. “Were you? I mean, I know we’re not supposed to be pressuring you…”

“No, we’re not,” I remind him.

“Okay, but did you see the pictures? I mean, it's something out of the Sound of Music or something. It's really beautiful. You could stand on a hillside and yodel or whatever.”

“Don't pressure her, Charlie,” I warn him. “We said it was her decision, remember? No pressure. At all.”

“Fine, fine,” Charlie sulks.

Tim and Tom walk over, tugging at Vanessa sleeve to extract her from my arms.

“Well if we can't pressure you, how about a little coercion?” Tim croons suggestively. His fingers stroke the edge of her neckline, dipping between her big, ample tits.

“Yeah,” Tom joins in, getting excited. “Maybe a little seduction?”

“It's not your night, guys,” she scolds them, giggling. Still, I see her arch her back, sticking her tits out for their appreciation.

“It's my night,” I remind them. “And I don't mind one bit. I like to share, remember?”

“Fantastic plan,” Charlie agrees. He immediately falls to his knees in front of her and starts to unfasten her jeans.

Tim and Tom push her T-shirt over her head, freeing her bouncy, sweet tits and pushing her backward onto me at the same time. Seeing how convenient this is, I brush my hard cock against her ass, showing her how ready I am for her.

“See this?” I ask her as I thrust against those beautiful ass cheeks. “See what you do to me?”

Tim and Tom go to town on her, working her tits like kneading bread, biting and sucking until she gasps with delight. Hank approaches her with his dick out ready for her waiting hand. She starts stroking him immediately and pulls him closer, kissing him noisily. Charlie moans with his face in her pussy and punches me lightly on the hip. He's making room for me, letting me know that I can slide my dick in from behind, get her from every angle.

That's what we do. Everybody's got a little piece of Vanessa, and Vanessa shares herself generously. She opens her knees, angling her ass back toward me so I can fit my whole cock into that tight, grasping pussy. She sucks me in like a mouth, clasping that sheath over my shaft, milking the seed right out of me.

Just before I come, I im

agine how much of us is inside her. We've been saturating her womb with brotherly cum for a whole month now. Without stopping, every day, sometimes two or three times. She's probably as much a part of us now as we are. WE are all joined together, all linked in a river of white-hot life force. All of us together, soaking in that primordial fluid.

She'll see it, I know she will. Even if she's got doubts now, eventually she'll see it. Her fears will fade away.

It's nature. And there's no denying nature.

Chapter 18

Vanessa

The farm stand has taken on a life of its own. Now that it is autumn, everyone in the county seems to have gotten a sudden taste for homemade apple cider, apples off the tree, even the fairly expensive pumpkins that one of the other local farmers brings. The gravel parking lot is always filled with minivans and small family cars, overflowing with children.

Next to the farm stand, there's a hay bale maze, created by one of the neighbors. I watch kids from three all the way up to nineteen begging their parents to let them run around the confusing labyrinth of twine wrapped cubes, their voices echoing for miles as they squeal with fright and delight.

Cider came back from the bottler in half gallon jugs, and we can barely keep them in stock. There's warm mulled cider for grown-ups and kids, and even the few cases of apple wine being sold. It's about the most festive thing I've seen. Stan even seemed to enjoy himself, though he strikes me as the kind of guy who likes to not venture too far out in the public. But he enjoys watching other people enjoy themselves while sampling his family’s products, I guess.

Charlie, of course, is the ringmaster. He keeps going up to complete strangers, telling them what they should buy. Candles, cider, wine. He likes offering directions to the hay maze, telling them not to forget to look for pumpkins and other squashes on their way out. He's like the master of ceremonies, making sure people keep moving, keep having fun.

Margie even set up a table with her handicrafts. She makes needle points with floral arrangements in meticulous detail. I love looking at them, and sort of hate to sell them when people spot them from across the room. Each tiny embroidered scene must have taken hours upon hours for her to do. I want to collect them all, and keep them for myself. But instead, people just keep buying them, two and three at a time, even though they cost like fifty bucks each. She's made a killing today, that's for sure.

An older woman walks up to the display of needlepoint, her eyebrows arched. I watch her scan the shelves and then settle on a detailed scene with a golden retriever by a fireplace.