Chapter-94: wedding night with father in law and brother in law instead of husband part-2
One man feasting on her chest, his broad hands kneading the soft, heavy weight of her other melon, making it jiggle and bounce with his movements. The other buried between her thighs, his tongue Facking into her with damp, sloppy noises.
Slurp… Schlick... Glorp… The room filled with the sounds of them with ragged breathing, damp mouths on skin, the creak of the bed, and Mohini's escalating, pornographic moans. She was a symphony of sensation, writhing between them.
"I need a meat rod," she gasped, her voice raw with need. "Now… One of you fack me… Now…!" Markus rose up, fumbling with his belt. His meat rod sprang free, thick and veined, already dripping.
He wasn't gentle. He positioned himself at her slick entrance and drove into her in one powerful, grunting thrust. SCHLUCK! The sound was obscenely damp, filling the room. Mohini screamed a sound of pure, abundant pleasure, her nails digging into Markus's back.
Her huge melons bounced violently with the force of his entry and Brutus watched, mesmerized, before shuffling up beside her, presenting his own hard length to her lips.
"Suck it," he commanded and she obeyed, taking him deep into her mouth, her tongue swirling around the head. Gulp. Slrrp… Markus settled into a brutal, pounding rhythm, each thrust making the bed frame slam against the wall. Thump. Thump. Thump.
His balls slapped damply against her ass. Splat... Splat... He gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh as he pistoned into her dripping cunt. "Tight little whore" he grunted, sweat dripping from his brow onto her chest.
"Taking your father in law's meat rod on your wedding night…" Mohini could only moan in response, her mouth full of Brutus's meat rod, her eyes rolling back in her head. The feeling of being utterly filled, dominated by these two powerful men, was everything she'd craved.
The covert cameras in the room's corners were forgotten; this was for her. After what felt like an eternity of being ravaged, Markus's pace became frantic, erratic. "Gonna fill you up," he warned, his voice a strained growl.
He plunged deep, held himself there and Mohini felt the hot, sudden gush of his release flooding her insides. Splurt… Splurt... Gush… A long, shuddering groan was torn from his chest as he emptied himself.
No sooner had he pulled out, his sticky white milk with seeds already beginning to leak from her well-used lower mouth, than Brutus was moving. He shoved Markus aside, his own need evident.
He flipped Mohini onto her hands and knees, her magnificent melons swaying heavily beneath her. He didn't aim for her lower mouth. Spitting into his hand, he rubbed the saliva over his meat rod and then pressed the blunt head against her other hole.
"This one's mine," he grunted, and began to push. It was a tight, burning stretch. Mohini cried out, a mix of pain and overwhelming pleasure. "Oh god, yes..! Take it! Fack my ass..!" With a final, brutal shove, he was buried to the hilt. POP.
He Facked her ass with a ruthless, unrestrained energy, one hand gripping her hip, the other tangled in her hair, pulling her head back. The lewd, squelching sounds of her ass being taken mixed with the damp slap of flesh. Squelsh... Splat... Squelsh...
Markus, recovering, kneeled before her, shoving his semi-hard meat rod back into her mouth. She sucked him greedily, tasting herself on him, lost in a vortex of sensation. She was their plaything, a sandwich of pure, raw mating.
The air was thick with the musky scent of sweat and mating and sticky white milk with seeds. Brutus's thrusts became desperate, his grunts louder.
He slammed into her one final time and his body rigid as he came deep inside her little pink hole, a hot, second flood joining the first. Splurtch... Gurgle. They collapsed around her, spent and breathing heavily.
The room was a wreck, the sheets damp and tangled and the air thick and humid. With practiced efficiency, they cleaned her up roughly with a corner of the sheet and then moved to Martin.
They stripped him naked, arranging his limbs around Mohini, placing his hand on her sticky white milk with seeds filled lower mouth, splashing a little wine on his chest. They created the perfect scandalous scene of newlywed passion.
As they slipped out the door, casting one last, hungry look at her erotic form, Mohini let a true, genuine smile touch her lips. She didn't have to wait long. The door opened again moments later.
The door clicked shut behind Markus and Brutus, leaving only the scent of their sweat and mating in the humid air. Mohini lay perfectly still for a count of ten, then twenty, listening to the faint, receding footsteps in the hall.
A slow, wicked smile spread across her lips. The performance had been magnificent. Before the echoes of their departure had fully faded the door opened again and it is much quieter this time.
Two silhouettes slipped inside, the dim light glinting off the lenses of the cameras they now set gently on a dresser. Zeke and Luther moved with a fluid, predatory grace that was entirely different from the brutish energy of the in laws. "Enjoy the show, boys?"
Mohini's voice was a low, husky murmur, no trace of sleep or intoxication left in it. She stretched languidly on the ruined sheets, her full, heavy melons swaying with the movement, the generous curves of her body gleaming with a faint sheen of sweat under the soft light.
Zeke let out a low whistle, his sharp eyes devouring her. "Front row seats. The audio is… incredible." He stepped closer, his gaze fixated on her chest. "My god, the way those magnificent melons bounced… I've never seen anything like it. You have grown since last time."
Luther was already undoing his belt, his confident stance radiating pure hunger. "We got every angle. Every… glorious… detail…" He nodded toward Martin's sleeping form on the couch. "Shall we make our own feature presentation?"
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