Boardroom Bride

“Then this is it,” Madden whispers, the most delicious smile on his face. Without wasting a second more he places one hand on my waist and Tristan does the same. I throw my arms around their necks, running my tongue between my lips as I try to decide who I should kiss first.

Stealing the decision from me, Madden just leans in and crushes his mouth against mine, kissing me like a man possessed. I close my eyes by instinct and, just a frac

tion of a second later, I feel Tristan’s lips on my neck. He nibbles at my skin, softly at first, but then he starts pulling on it with his teeth, a sudden stab of pain travelling from the place where’s biting me straight down to my loins.

“I want you,” I breathe out as I pull back from Madden. “I want your cocks,” I add, taking my hands to their crotches and flattening the palm of my hands against the bulging shapes hiding under their pants. I curl my fingers around them, perhaps more harshly than I should, and give them a hard tug.

“You’ll have us,” Madden replies, grinning so wickedly that I feel my insides burning even more fiercely.

“You’ll have us, alright. You’ll have us until you can’t stand on your legs,” Tristan whispers, his mouth still against my neck. He brushes his lips up my skin and then nibbles at my earlobe, a sigh leaving my lips as he does it. I tighten up my grip around their shafts and, unable to control myself, I start moving my hand up and down, stroking them over the fabric of their pants.

“You’re pretty eager, aren’t you?” Madden chuckles, his hands moving around my waist and then over the curve of my ass. He squeezes it harshly, pulling me against him, and I gasp as I feel his hard cock pressed against my inner thigh.

“More than eager,” I reply with a sigh, my mind working so fast that I’m actually surprised I’m still able of building a coherent sentence.

“That’s exactly what I wanted to hear,” Tristan jumps in, finally pulling back from me and looking me straight in the eyes. Mimicking Madden, he takes his hand around my waist and cups my ass, pulling me toward him and stealing me from Madden’s embrace.

With my body pressed tight against Tristan’s now, I part my lips and reach for him, locking my mouth on his and allowing his manly scent to climb up my nostrils and blend with Madden’s. I keep on stroking both of them, doing it as hard as I can, and I feel my legs growing weak with each passing second. We still haven’t fucked and, just like they promised would happen, I can barely stand on my legs.

I’m almost ready to go down on my knees and continue from there when Tristan pulls back from me and, bending over, places his arm behind my knees and picks me up from the floor. Carrying me in his arms, he takes me toward the wooden table on the center of the garden and sits me on its edge.

Madden follows after us and, wasting no time, the two men take their hands to my knees and force me to spread my legs wide. They squeeze themselves in the empty space between my legs, standing shoulder-to-shoulder, and then offer me a grin that I can only translate as a sign that things are about to get serious now.

Moving as if they were one, they take their hands to my shoulders and, grabbing at the straps of my dress, they push them down. The front of my dress droops over my breasts, showing a glimpse of my bra, and that sends them into a frenzy. Moving fast, they yank my dress down my waist, and then attack my breasts almost too viciously.

Madden grabs my right breast, squeezing it tightly, and Tristan hooks his fingers on the left cup of my bra. He pulls it down to reveal my nipple, his knuckles brushing against it, and I just grab his wrist and force him to flatten the palm of his hand against my breast.

Obliging, he does the same as Madden and squeezes my breast; easing up the pressure, he pinches my hard nipple between his thumb and index finger until I feel that sweet stab of pain making its way down my spine and making my pussy grow wet. God, I can already feel the fabric of my thong becoming so drenched that it’s almost uncomfortable to have it on me.

Lucky for me, it seems that they can read my mind. Moving in tandem, they let go of my breasts and, resting their hands on my knees, they slide their fingers under the hemline of my dress and bring them up to my inner thighs. Teasing me, they brush their fingertips around the contour of my thong and then grab at the fabric; pushing with my hands against the wooden surface of the table, I lift my ass up a few inches and allow them to pull my thong down my legs. The wet fabric slides down awkwardly, sticking to my skin as it goes, but they finally manage to take it off me.

“Someone’s pretty horny,” Madden laughs, holding my drenched thong in his hand. Bringing it up to his face, he presses it against his mouth and inhales, closing his eyes and taking in my scent. Then, locking his eyes on mine, he reaches for me with his hand and brushes the wet fabric of my underwear over my lips, the flavor of my juices hitting me like a bullet.

While I relish the flavor of my own pussy, Tristan pushes my dress up to my waist and then, wasting no time, he moves his hands up the side of my body. Taking them to my shoulder blades, he looks for the clasp of my bra and frees it the moment he finds it. I find the pressure of the cups on my breasts easing up, and then they’re gone - Tristan just yanks the bra off me with one sudden movement, my nipples becoming even harder as the gentle breeze in the garden laps at them.

“Did I tell you how much I hate your clothes?” Madden asks me, repeating his words from the last we were together.

“You did,” I sigh, and then he just grins and hooks his fingers around the fabric of my dress, his hands on my waist. He yanks on it, pushing it down my legs, and then takes a step back to take in the sight of my naked body.

Tristan does the same, and I just look back at them, standing shoulder-to-shoulder as their eyes roam over me. I notice the bulging shape in their pants, tenting them and fighting against the fabric, and I feel my insides clenching as I try to imagine what it’ll feel like to have them inside of me. Will it hurt? Will it even be physically possible? I mean, their cocks are a wonder of nature, and it’s not like my pussy is used to anything like this - in fact, it’s not used to anything at all.

“What are you waiting for, boys?” I purr, leaning back and placing my feet on the edge of the table. Spreading my legs, I offer them a good view of my wet pussy and I can see their eyes widening with anticipation.

“I’ve always heard a gentleman doesn’t make a lady wait,” Madden replies, taking one step forward and placing his body between my legs. Sitting up on the table, I reach for his shirt and get to work, slowly popping out the buttons as I look into his eyes.

“But I don’t want you to be a gentleman,” I continue to purr as my knuckles brush against the skin on his pectorals. “I want you to be everything but a gentleman…” I finish unbuttoning his shirt and then untuck it from his pants; placing my hands on his stomach, I run my fingers over his hard wall of abs, my body aching to feel it pressed against me.

“I can do that,” he exhales, his hands on my waist as I hook my fingers on his pants and pull him into me. My mouth grows dry as I unbuckle his belt, the metallic sound of the buckle reaching my ears like the first note in a symphony of lust and sin. I pull the belt out from its loops and then simply throw it to the side, my heart picking up the pace as I unbutton his pants and then grab the zipper, pulling it down. His cock pushes back against the dark fabric of his boxer briefs, and I swallow hard as I feel that thick shape brushing against my fingers.

Turning my wrist around, I grab his cock over his boxer briefs and squeeze it hard, feeling it pulse against the palm of my hand.

“Are you just going to watch?” I ask Tristan, looking at him over Madden’s shoulders. Without a word, he walks up to me as if he’s in a trance, standing to the side of the table and reaching for my right breast. Grabbing it, he presses the palm of his hands against it and I feel a shiver going up my spine as I feel my nipple mashed against his skin.

With a growl climbing up the back of my throat, I take my free hand to his shirt and, acting completely out of control, I pull hard on it. The buttons pop out from the fabric and fly up in the air, scattering around the floor of the garden like frightened mice. I take one hard look at the ripped muscles on his chest, and then my gaze falls down to his crotch.

“Take it off,” I find myself saying, eager to have both men’s cock in my hands.

“Bossy, I like it,” Tristan chuckles, grabbing his belt and unbuckling it. Never taking his eyes off me, he opens his pants and tugs on them, sending them down to his knees. Growling again, I push his shirt down his arms and bite on my lower lip as he kicks off his shoes and steps out of his pants.