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“I think…” Max starts, breathing raggedly, “I think we might just need to revisit your position in the company, Miss Andrews.”
“I think I’d like that,” I say.
The worst day ever became the best, and all it took was a little embezzlement and a lot of lube.
Seven months later was the first time that Max and Taylor couldn’t fit both of their cocks into me at the same time.
I was too swollen with my pregnancy by then.
When I told them they had knocked me up, we were all three ecstatic--and when they both proposed to me at the same time, I was overwhelmed. Money makes incredible things happen, though, and within a few weeks, the two guys had me living at their holiday house in the Bahamas.
I got to live out my pregnancy with the two of them working from ‘home’ there nearly every day, and if one absolutely had to be away for work, the other stayed behind to keep me company.
It was strange, being shared by two amazing guys. I got to know them more and realize just how well they worked together. There was no jealousy between them--all they cared about was me, and I was more than happy to fill that role while they filled me up.
Every night was something new. I took their cum in my mouth, ass, pussy, and every inch of my body over the months. The heavier I got with my pregnancy, the more enthusiastic they seemed.
We even roleplayed a few times, recreating that fateful day that brought us all together.
The only downside was that I wasn’t allowed to handle the books anymore. Instead, they just gave me their credit cards and told me to go crazy. And no matter how much I thought I was spending, they always told me to push it further.
And this morning, as I wake up to the feeling of Max’s tongue massaging my clit and Taylor’s mouth on my swollen breasts, I feel like I’ve got a long time ahead of me to meet that challenge.
Awakening Her
I’m alone in the locker room, lying on the cold, hard metal bench next to my locker. I’m staring up at the ceiling, letting my hands roam up and down my body. I curl my fingers under the tight, cropped shirt I wear with the words MAPLETOWN TORNADOES emblazoned across in gold lettering.
I have a flouncy little skirt on, the kind that barely falls to mid-thigh, and knee-high socks with my athletic sneakers. I bite my lip, moaning as my hands slip over my full breasts, groping and rubbing my nipples until they’re so stiff you can see them straining through the fabric of my top. My pom-poms lie on the floor next to the bench, put aside for a moment of risky pleasure.
I cut out of practice a little early, claiming an ankle injury, just so I could sneak in here and have some alone time. I’m so fucking turned on and frustrated all the time. My roommate is always home, hogging the bathroom and keeping me awake all night studying with the light on.
I wish she was the kind of girl who went out partying, just so that I could get a night alone to myself for once. But no, just like every other classmate of mine, she’s so focused and driven in her classwork. That’s all anyone seems to care about around here: making good grades. It’s like nobody knows how to have fun anymore.
So, I am making time for my own little bit of fun wherever I can. If that means touching myself in the girls’ locker room, then so be it. Besides, I have to admit, I look sexy as hell in my tight little uniform.
I know for a fact that’s why Coach Scott Robinson, the tall, handsome former football player who now coaches the team here, always stares at me during practice. He just can’t seem to keep his eyes off of me, glancing over so often that I’m surprised the football players haven’t noticed yet. But then again, football jocks are always so dumb.
I should know. My high school sweetheart was a football player. Captain of the team, in fact, and I liked him so much that I almost gave up my most precious gift to him: my virginity. But on the night I intended to offer him that precious gift, he dumped me. Out of nowhere. Just because we are attending two different colleges. He’s only an hour away, but I guess that was just too far for him. I wasn’t worth his time.
But whatever.
I’m so over guys my own age now. They’re all so immature, irresponsible, inexperienced, and just flat-out not attractive to me anymore. I get hit on all the time on campus, but nobody, and I mean nobody, arouses my fantasies quite like older men.
In particular, two older men.
I moan, rubbing my clit through my damp panties, rolling my hips as I caress my full breasts. I imagine Coach Robinson walking in on me here, finding me spread-eagled and moaning like the little slut I am. What would he do, I wonder? For the sake of my fantasy, I like to imagine that he would find me sexy.
Irresistible.
He’s got to be at least six-foot-four, and I’m barely over five feet tall, and incredibly petite. I have to be, since I’m the girl at the top of the pyramid. I’m the girl getting tossed into the air to do flips. I’m the leader of the pack, and I’m good at what I do. Good enough, in fact, to get a full ride to Mapletown College on a cheerleading scholarship. That also sets me apart from my classmates, who are all here to study and become scientists, professors, doctors, all those boring careers that brainy people do.
I’m only here because of my body. The way I can move it, entice my audience, almost seducing them into cheering for my team. It’s almost as though every shake of my ass and swing of my hips begs the question: “Don’t you want to pull for the winning team?”
And in my experience, I’m always pulling for the winning team. Even here, at college, our football team is renowned in the region for being unbeatable. Unstoppable. And a lot of that is due to the expert strategies and tactical know-how of Coach Robinson.
He’s a genius on the sidelines. He knows exactly what it’s like to be on that football field, since he’s a former player. And he still looks the part. He’s probably in his mid thirties, but he’s way hotter than any of the guys he coaches.
I can just picture him walking up to me, his cock hard and erect, straining against the fabric of those tight jeans. He would look down at me with lust in those stormy gray eyes. I imagine what it would feel like to fuck him. It’s hard to imagine, since I’m a virgin. But I can try. I bet it would feel a million times better than touching myself.
