Their Reckless Bride (Bridgewater Ménage 11)

I gasped, clung to Charlie.

“So fucking tight,” Hank murmured as he kissed along my shoulder. “Don’t worry, we won’t take you here at the same time. Charlie will fuck your pussy while I fuck your ass.” His slick finger slid to my back entrance, to the place where Charlie had licked. The fingertip circled, then pressed in until I had both men inside me.

I cried out, for it felt so good, yet odd. Both holes were stretched and while it burned, it reminded me that they were claiming me, that I belonged to them. I wanted it all, to know what it was like, to be completely taken, completely claimed. I didn’t want them to hold back, to keep themselves in check.

“More,” I panted.

Charlie leaned down and took a nipple into his mouth, sucked hard and I felt it in my pussy.

I tangled my fingers in his silky hair, held him in place. I felt him smile against my breast.

“Smothered by your glorious tit. The perfect way to go,” he said, looking up at me.

Playful and handsome.

“More,” I breathed. “I haven’t seen either of you yet. I want you bare.”

Hank’s finger slipped from me and I heard the rustle of clothing.

“If you let go of my hair, I’ll oblige,” Charlie said.

Releasing him, he stood and worked off his jacket.

My pussy felt empty and was achy and needy for them. I was so slick I was wet along my inner thighs. I felt silly standing in my boots and stockings, I sat on the edge of the bed, removed them, all the while watching Hank and Charlie. The room was sparsely furnished, a big bed for Charlie’s large size, a dresser with a mirror above it, a chair in the corner. Two windows, open to the warm day, faced out of the front of the house. The sun streamed in.

The more they bared, the more I wanted them. They were so different, in temperament and in body. Charlie was bare chested, with a line of red hair that started at his navel and traveled down to the base of his cock. And what a cock! Long and thick, it was a ruddy pink color with a broad head. He stood proudly with muscled legs that made his cock jut out. He gripped the base in his large hand, stroked up the length, circled the tip with his thumb.

Hank moved to stand beside him. Just a touch shorter, his shoulders were broad, a narrow waist that tapered into a muscular belly. He, too, was well endowed. His size was comparable to Charlie’s and my inner walls clenched, wondering how either of them would fit.

Their fingers had been snug, but those cocks…

Hank grinned. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, your pussy was made for us.”

I nodded and licked my lips. They both groaned.

“You see us. You can touch us, too,” Charlie added.

I stood, walked over to them, set one hand on each of their chests. They remained still as I touched them, roved over them. Felt the heat of their skin, the play of their muscles, the quickness of their breathing. Charlie continued to stroke himself as Hank’s cock bobbed toward me.

Curious, I touched Hank’s cock and he hissed out a breath, his hips rocking forward.

“What about me, love?” Charlie asked, dropping his hand away. I gripped him, too. “Fuck,” he hissed, and his eyes fell closed.

“Show me what you like,” I said, looking up at them. Their eyes were dark, their jaws tense. Every line in their bodies was taut.

Charlie’s hand settled on top of mine in a firm grip and his gaze was fierce. “This will be over too soon if you keep at it.”

I frowned, not sure what they meant.

“You’re eager, sweetheart. You want our cocks?” Hank asked.

I nodded, licked my lips.

That action had Hank grabbing me about the waist and tossing me on the bed. When I landed, he crawled over me, the hard prod of his cock on my inner thigh.

Leaning down, he kissed me. Sweetly, yet thoroughly. When he lifted his head, I was panting. “Let’s get you ready.”

I writhed beneath him. “I’m ready.”