My days as sex referee are mostly over, but I do give Killian a nod to let him know she’s ready. He’s been the most hesitant about sex since she got pregnant—worried about the size of his cock or being too rough. Now, I’m more like an OBGYN, telling him it’s okay to rail his little sister even with a bun in her oven. “Fuck her, daddy,” I tell him. “Give mama exactly what she needs.”
These two have always gotten off the hot and taboo of their relationship. Fuck, I get off on it, too, but our roles are changing rapidly. One mama and three devoted daddies. Killian’s hips draw back and then plunge inside. The action forces her forward, and she takes me in, her hot mouth surrounding my shaft. I swallow hard and rock into her, grabbing the base of my shaft and fingering my balls.
“Can you feel Rath in there?” I ask him, knowing it turns him on.
“God, yes,” his neck strains as he pauses, stretching her around his cock. He’s holding back.
Story looks up at me with wide eyes, her mouth full of me and I ask, “You want him deeper don’t you, mama?”
She nods, a muffled, “… yes,” around my cock.
“Give her what she wants, daddy.”
The battle visibly wages within him. The urge to pound into her fighting with the need to treat her as delicately as he believes she needs. Story releases me, a long sticky string of spit connecting us, and looks over her shoulder. “Killian, I can take it. Fuck me. Please, big brother?”
The begging always gets to him, but it’s the endearment that flips the switch in his eyes. He clenches her hip with one hand, fingers pressing into the soft flesh. His other hand vanishes between her legs and she moans. “Always so goddamn wet,” he says, leaning over and kissing her side of her neck.
He rears back with powerful force, pulling almost all the way out, and then plunges back in. She yelps, then gives me a twisted, thankful grin, and unhinges her jaw. I guide myself back in and fall into rhythm, mesmerized by the three of us together. It’s a goddamn beautiful sight that makes my balls clench and my cock swell. There is nothing in this universe better than watching my woman get fucked. Nothing.
Once I’m close, I reach out to lay a hand on Story’s back. Killian’s hand falls on top of it, fingers twining with mine. The action draws us closer, all three of us, and my balls tighten and twitch, caught up in the heat and movement. How did I get so lucky to be a part of something so intense?
Story cries out around my cock, her nose wrinkling as her breath comes out in short, choked bursts. I still for a moment to let her breathe, but I reach for her tits, massaging them between my hands, drawing her closer and closer to pleasure. She cries out again, hips bucking against Killian’s hand until she groans in a mixture of pain and pleasure, latching back onto my cock and lazily sucking through her orgasm.
Killian grabs onto her hips, her muscles now loose, and lifts her back onto his cock. Any worries of needing to be gentle go right out the window. He fucks into her hard, hips pounding erratically as he buries himself deep inside, cock pressed to the hilt. My eyes slide down his body, over the tattoos, to the tight muscles that anchor him to her backside. When these two fuck, it’s always a sort of art. She moans against my dick, breath hot and slippery.
“Can you take both of us?” I ask her, forcing her eyes up. They’re glazed from her orgasm, but she knows what I mean. Not our cocks. That, she’s already handling. I mean our cum. Our Lady loves cum and doesn’t want to miss a drop.
She nods, her mouth too full of me to verbalize it, and I squeeze Killian’s hand. “Fill her up,” I tell him, painfully holding my load until the right moment. I sense the roar before it rips through his throat, a rumble deep in his chest as his orgasm begins. I grab the base of my cock and the back of her neck and say, “Hold on, mama.” Giving her a warning.
The cum shoots through us and I’m lost in the sensation, barely aware of Killian other than his loud groans as he pumps into Story. Slick heat rushes through me, starting at my balls and pulsing through my length. Story flattens her tongue to catch it all, letting it accumulate where I can see it. “Good girl,” I tell her and she swallows it down, throat bobbing with the motion. When she’s done—when she’s drained us dry and taken every drop we have to give—I lean down to kiss her, pushing my tongue in her mouth to steal a taste of my own bitterness. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she says, looking over her shoulder. “And you, too, big brother.” Smirking, she breathlessly adds, “Daddy.”