Page 17 of How to Lose a Dowry in Three Bucks
“That’s a good girl, take me down,” he hummed, his antlers casting shadows over her body. She felt utterly controlled by thatthrusting shaft that held her jaw open and moved in and out without the man being overly concerned about whether she was prepared to take him. Had she known this was an option, her fantasies would have been much more varied.
And behind her, another of the men had oiled his cock and pushed into the ring of her arse, making her groan around the shaft lodged in her throat. The slide was smooth, but he stretched her limits and had her making little cries with each slam home. Soon, his sack was slapping against her swollen cunny lips like little smacks. Every few thrusts, they’d reach her throbbing nub and make her spine twist to feel the full extent of pleasure.
“Now, now, focus on pleasing us,” said the man in her arse, holding Sophia’s hair and keeping her head available for his brother Buck’s cock.
Nearby, Matthew sprawled on a throne, watching Sophia’s exertions with lowered lids, a soft smile on his face, and a hard cock in his hand. He had that relaxed look he’d exhibited while perusing the pornographic photographs in his library; Sophia reasoned that this was a pornographic tableau.
And not just figuratively. All the while, the photographer moved about with his camera, shouting cues and occasionally adjusting his piece in his trousers. It was a heady thing to see a man so aroused by ruination that he had to balance a camera with one hand so he might grip his shaft for a moment.
Sophia took them, crying and drooling, her quim forever wetter as she watched Matthew watch her. And then he spoke.
“Such a good girl, taking my brother Bucks. Are you getting ready to take me, love?”
It was as if his hands trailed over her pinned body and she felt ripples of pleasure from deep within her core.
“Suck their balls dry, darling, so I might take you next.”
She was frantic, meeting the thrusts in her arse and working her throat around the man in her mouth so she might clear the way for Matthew’s claiming. Whether it took two seconds or two hours, she didn’t know; she was lost to bliss and need, reveling in the feeling of being a receptacle for two anonymous masked men who simply wanted the use of her holes.
When they finally exploded and filled her with their spend, then withdrew from her taxed body, she lay draped on that Seeding Stump, unable to move.
And then she felt something soft moving over her face. Sophia looked up and saw Matthew carefully holding her hair out of the way, cleaning her well-used mouth. He dipped his head and dropped a kiss on her swollen lips before moving behind her, where she vaguely registered that he was cleaning her body after the other Buck had fucked her so well.
As she resigned herself to sleeping on that strangely comfortable stump, Sophia felt herself being lifted from it, swept into Matt’s powerful arms.
She felt her skin on his, her body cradled against the muscle and flesh of his broad torso that made her want to stay in that hold forever.
“Fee-fi-fo-fum,” he mumbled, for her ears alone.
At that, she broke into a peal of laughter, everything suddenly seeming so hilarious and light after fear and darkness. Sophia reached up to his neck and brought him down for one of those quick kisses he liked so much, which elongated like hot glass into something far more sensuous.
“We should capture the married couple now. It will be a pleasure to immortalize their love,” said the photographer from nearer than Sophia had realized. She opened her mouth to explain that she and Matt weren’t married, but he immediately settled her on his lap, both of them seated on that throne from which he’d observed her.
Matthew sat regally, his chest supporting her back, and her legs resting atop his. And then he brought his thighs apart to open her quim to the photographer’s view.
She looked over her shoulder and saw that papier-mâché mask with the spindly antlers looking ahead as he opened her cunny lips.
“Let’s show off your perfect little hole, love.”
Sophia fought the urge to buck and cry with pleasure as the man with the camera captured her lewd pose for posterity. Just thinking of someone seeing that shocking image made her quim feel exceedingly wet and soft.
“Very good,” called the man with the camera. “I think all that remains are the images of the lady being penetrated by a member.”
The other two bucks sat on throne-like chairs nearby, intermittently stroking their cocks after returning from the washroom. Their masked eyes watched Sophia, open and ready for a cock.
“Are you ready for me?” asked Matthew, sliding a lone finger into her channel to tease and test her.
It wasn’t enough. And that’s when Sophia realized something very important: nothing, no other man, would ever be enough. Matthew had broken the mold, and nothing but that big chest and enormous cock would satisfy her.
His surprisingly sweet demeanor and appetite for life weren’t things she could replace with a quiet life in the country. He’d carved out a place — a big place — in her life, and she was suddenly realizing how loath she was to give him up. Would this be their last intimate encounter? What if she never had this again?
“Fill me,” she breathed, trying not to allow tears to escape.
Matt adjusted their bodies so he could slip his hard cock into her channel, then brought her slowly down on his shaft so she could adjust to taking all of him. Sophia looked down and saw how that club split and filled her, the sight somehow more alarming than the feel of being completely stretched around him.
“Can you take the rest?” he asked, his voice tight behind the mask.
“There’s more?” she asked faintly, then gripped the throne’s armrests. She settled further onto him as he brought her hips down.
