Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 56736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
“You’re doing it,” she gasps gently, almost unable to speak. “You’re doing it!” And at that moment, a scream of pleasure bursts from her throat.
Goddamn, I’d literally cut off my right arm to have my fingers inside her cunt right now, to feel the squeeze of her muscles as she comes. As it is, her clit is pulsing like crazy, a torrent of warm fluids gushing into my palm.
But Macy’s going wild on the couch. She parts her legs, pulling open those sweet swollen labia as my brothers look on, and spills again, the honey running in rivers from her puss.
“Oh oh oh!” the female cries, hole spasming wildly, my fingers brushing her clit again and again. “Oh!”
And shit, but a beautiful stream spurts out then from her private place, arcing into the air before dropping onto the carpet. A couple of my bros lurch forward, too late to catch it with their mouths, their hands, anything. Damn, but we have a squirter before us? How did we get so lucky?
And as the girl subsides, I turn to the audience.
Trent meets my gaze head on.
“She hasn’t taken any of us yet. We’ve kept our cocks in our pants, just like we agreed.”
That’s right. When we made the decision, all of us pledged that there’d be no dick in pussy until we were all present. So yeah, Macy’s just gotten an appetizer of what’s to come.
But the sweet little girl is no dunce. Because slowly, she sits up once more, pulling her t-shirt down, the jacket wrapping around those narrow shoulders.
“I can’t believe this has happened,” she says in a stricken voice, looking at the wet spot on the carpet. Oh yeah, that’s her juice. All her.
“No worries honey,” comes my nonchalant reply. “A little cleaning fluid will do the trick.”
But that’s not what she’s worried about. Turning my way, the girl fixes me with a look.
“It’s that,” she stammers. “But also more. I mean, who does this? Who does what I’m doing?” she says with anguish, gesturing to us all.
The wall of man is silent instead, looking back at her. Oh shit, girlie is angry.
“We can give you what you want,” I say soothingly. “It’s not wrong.”
She looks at me then, eyes wide, almost pleading. She wants me to say it again, and I do.
“So you don’t like college?” I ask.
She looks embarrassed when she nods now. But shit, that’s nothing to be embarrassed about. College isn’t for everyone. We all went, but I know plenty of people who are just fine and dandy without that overpriced piece of paper.
And we could care less if our female goes to school. We have plenty of money, there’s no reason for a woman of ours to work, unless she wants. So yeah, if anything the whole no-college deal is a good thing. It’s more about understanding what works best for you and your situation, not what society or your parents expect.
So I’m patient.
“Well, what do you want then?” come my words.
Macy stands up then, slowly folding my jacket around her gorgeous body. Her look is somber this time.
“I want to be a chef,” she says slowly. “I’m serious. I want to write a cookbook and have it published, and show my parents that you don’t need a degree. The next four years of my life don’t have to be spent in the library. They can be spent doing what I love, and I need to figure out how to get that message across.”
I hold my hands up.
“Absolutely honey,” is my smooth drawl. “It’s all about pursuing your dreams.”
“And you guys can help me do that. You said you’d help me,” she finishes in a rush.
I have no idea what this means so I turn to my brothers for guidance, eyebrows raised.
Trent is the first to speak this time.
“We promised to taste test. Wasn’t that the bargain?” he growls.
But that doesn’t sound right. Macy’s dead serious, and getting some guys to taste test food is the least of her problems. Hell, it’s not even a commitment. We eat just to survive, she’d be doing us a favor, not the other way around.
The brunette shakes her head again, refusing to meet our eyes. Getting up slowly, those curvy limbs carry her to the door gracefully, like she’s floating on air. I figure we’ve seen the last of Macy, for now at least.
But instead, the brunette quirks her head back and meets our gaze fully then.
“I need more,” are the simple words.
And with that, she’s gone, out the door and across the lawn, leaving the six of us mystified. Goddamn. Women always get your goat. They say one thing and mean another, and none of it ever makes sense.
But one thing’s for certain, though. We’ll give her whatever she needs whatever she wants. Because she belongs to us now. After that beautiful show, there’s no way this gorgeous girl is getting away. Macy belongs to us now … completely and irrevocably.