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Then, the dildo sinks all the way inside and my eyes fly open. Oh my god, I’m so full. I feel like my asshole’s twice its regular size, and Trig’s cock in my pussy has swollen and grown, his veins pulsing heavily against my walls. Even crazier, I feel like there’s just no room inside my GI tract anymore. The two cocks inside have pushed my guts out of the way and I’m stuffed to the max.
“Oh god,” I moan deliriously. “Unnnh!”
It’s then that Trig begins the best part. He pulls his cock out almost to the tip before surging back inside, jolting me forwards with a powerful push. But my boyfriend is talented because as one big hand grips my hip to hold me steady, his other hand fucks me with the dildo in the opposite direction of his cock. Thus, while my asshole is being penetrated, he’s pulling out of my pussy, and vice versa. There’s always a massive shaft in my body, and the rhythm is unstoppable. My eyes begin to roll up, showing the whites, as my big breasts sway in time to the heavy fucking. I pant, moan, gasp, and wheeze as I’m double penetrated in both my holes, and then suddenly, it happens. Climax comes and I’m thrown over a cliff as a full-body orgasm overtakes me.
“Unnnnh!” is my scream. “Oh God, Trig, yes!”
My pussy and ass spasm wildly, milking the shafts within as Trig groans with pleasure, his dark head thrown back.
“Shit, you feel amazing, Rae,” he grunts. “Oh shit shit SHIT!”
His cock jerks and then bursts, pulsing with unleashed power. Hot jets of sperm paint my insides even as he fucks me roughly in the ass with the dildo.
“Take it,” he croons while thrusting the huge toy deep. “Oh yeah.”
We cry out again, our bodies fusing together as Trig fills me with virile man milk, my pussy clamping wildly even as my asshole is savagely fucked. But this is what I want. This is what I live for. I love having both of my holes claimed simultaneously, and my handsome boyfriend always does such a great job.
However, everything good ends, and eventually, we finish. His cock dribbles off after I give it a few more teasing squeezes, and he pulls out of me with a loud squelch before pulling out the dildo as well. But Trig doesn’t stop there. He brings the dildo to his nose, sniffing it a bit, before taking a long, lascivious lick of the rubbery pink plastic.
“Trig!” I gasp, my eyes going wide. Of course, I shouldn’t be surprised because my boyfriend’s done this before, but I’m always shocked anew at the rampant filth. He merely chuckles though, those blue eyes gleaming as he licks the dildo again.
“You know I love the taste of your ass, honey,” he rasps. “And this is one way to get it: on a dick.” Then, he sucks the tip before lapping at the sides of the pink toy, thoroughly coating the plastic in his saliva while tasting my slime and ass sweat. I know it’s gross. I know it’s disgusting. Yet, I love it so much and my nipples tingle all over again, my pussy still dripping with Trig’s come as I watch the debauchery. This man is Heaven-sent, with his wicked ways, godlike physique, and general tendency towards depravity.
And yet, something’s missing. That’s the worst part of this scenario. It’s not that I’m unhappy with our sex life, or that I’m not having multitudes of orgasms with each session. It’s something else that I can’t put my finger on, but what could it be? As I watch Trig continue to suck on the pink shaft, I play with my clit idly, trying to think. He’s already satisfied my craving for double-penetration, and we now have a stash of dildos exactly for that purpose. Yet, in my heart of hearts, I know there’s something more. I need two cocks, but one of them shouldn’t be fake. Instead, both of them should be real, pulsing, and veiny, with the ability to deliver sweet and salty sperm deep into my body. I want another man in our relationship … but will my boyfriend agree?
CHAPTER2
Hunter
Ihear the front door open from inside my study and pause, my hands still at the computer. It can only be one person, and that’s my sassy stepdaughter Raelynn. Or more accurately, Rae is my ex-stepdaughter because her mom and I were divorced years ago.
It’s a long story, actually. Christine Chambers is a woman that I met while walking in our local park. Any man would notice the beautiful blonde with her wavy tresses, sweet smile, and stunning figure. She was gorgeous, hands down, and I got her number that day.
We started dating, and Christine revealed that she was a divorced mom with a daughter in middle-school. I didn’t think much of it because I was too entranced by the woman herself. Christine was fun and sassy, with a great sense of humor and of course, a way about her in the sack. The woman was raunchy beyond compare, and soon, I could only think about the next time I’d be in that beautiful body.
After a year or so of dating, we got married, and Christine moved into my house with her daughter in tow. It wasn’t a big deal. Of course, my new wife moved into the master suite with me, and I was so busy enjoying my time with her that I barely noticed little Raelynn. Back then, Rae wasn’t much more than a mousy toothpick. She had frizzy brown hair, thick glasses, and mostly stayed in her room reading books. I didn’t really notice her comings and goings because this was someone else’s daughter and none of my business, even if Rae happened to be living in my house. As a result, it was a peaceful time in part because we hardly ever encountered one another.
But something with my wife went haywire along the way. To this day, I have no idea what it is. At first, it was just small things, like Christine’s dissatisfaction with her hair. Don’t get me wrong because my ex had a head of wavy, lush blonde tresses that the average American woman would die for. I was surprised by her complaints, but tried to be supportive by paying for fancy haircuts and professional blow-outs.
But it wasn’t just the hair. Soon, my wife wasn’t happy with anything, including our house; the car; her job as a real estate agent; her lack of a job, after she quit being an agent; or even the front lawn outside. Our lawn has always been a lush, emerald-green spread, but Christine set upon a with a fury to turn it into something “environmentally sustainable” and “native to the region.” Soon, we had a bed of weeds out front and I put my foot down then. I’ve worked long and hard for my house and home, and wasn’t going to be seen living in an untamed wilderness that literally looked like it had never seen a lawnmower.
But Christine wouldn’t have it. Our argument over the lawn was the hair that broke the camel’s back, and after two years of marriage, it all went kaput. My ex babbled some stuff about “being true to herself” and “unchaining herself from the patriarchy,” and filed for divorce. Then, to my great surprise, she took off on a world tour. Literally, she’d read some book calledEat Pray Lovewhere a woman divorces her husband before setting out on a global jaunt of self-discovery, and basically, Christine followed in those footsteps. She packed her bags, and soon, we were getting postcards from places as far flung as Tibet and Romania.
But therein lies the problem: while Christine was traveling the world, Rae still had to go to school. My ex basically left her daughter with me while she “found her heart-soul” and at first, I didn’t think anything of it. My house is big, and again, Rae and I didn’t interact much anyways. The young girl was probably a freshman in high school then, and very studious too. As a result, I barely noticed her.
But over time, things changed. Or more accurately, Rae began to blossom into a woman, and I couldn’t help but notice. The frizzy hair became lush, wild tresses that I longed to sink my hands into. The skinny frame filled out into a womanly figure with big breasts, a narrow waist, and wide hips that made my mouth water. Plus, Rae lost her shyness along the way somewhere. She started to wear crop tops and short skirts, not to mention dresses that were made of mesh. I could hardly believe it when she came down the stairs one morning when she was seventeen or so, clad in an outfit that was almost transparent. Sure, there were swirls of color that covered her most important parts, but nothing could hide the fact that the fabric was a sheer gauze that hugged her big bust and sassy ass.
“What are you wearing?” I sputtered, newspaper in hand.
Rae just giggled while popping a strawberry into her mouth.
“It’s called mesh, Daddy. Everyone’s wearing it these days.”
Then, she was out the front door with her bag slung over one shoulder, leaving me gaping at the kitchen counter with a semi-stiff erection. What the fuck? Did that really happen?
But things just went from bad to worse. Rae graduated high school, but instead of moving out to attend college, she stayed in my house and instead, decided to pursue an Associate’s degree at a local community college.
“It makes sense, Daddy,” she murmured in an innocent tone, those big brown eyes wide. “My mom didn’t leave me any money, and I don’t want to waste yours because I’m so appreciative for everything you’ve already done. Plus, four years at some school that’s going to cost and arm and a leg doesn’t seem right. I’d rather zip in and out while saving money, and actually, I already know what I want to be: a teacher. You don’t need a fancy diploma for that. You just need a commitment to kids and a solid education.”
