“Come in,” I called, wincing at the tremor in my voice. The door opened, and Bernard entered, followed closely by another man: Étienne, I assumed.
Unlike the other men in the house, Étienne wore his dark blond hair long and pulled back in a short ponytail. His sharp features gave him a pointed, intelligent look. I saw appreciation in his cobalt blue eyes as he looked me over.
“Everyone has been telling me what a beautiful woman you are, and I see they haven’t exaggerated,” he said, by way of greeting.
I stammered my thanks. I felt jittery, jumpy, unsure what to do with my hands. Did they expect to start immediately? Should I get on the bed? I hovered in the center of the room, and the men seemed to sense my agitation.
“Nervous?” Bernard asked sympathetically, and I nodded. “Don’t be, we can take it slow. Here, come sit on the settee with us, and Étienne will massage your shoulders.”
I followed him to the plush settee and settled in between them. Étienne laid his hands on my bare shoulders. “Is this all right?” he asked, his voice husky.
“Yes,” I breathed, and he began to work talented fingers into the knots in my back.
“So tense,” he murmured. “Is that because of us?”
I shook my head no, then admitted: “Maybe a little.”
Bernard placed his fingers under my chin and tilted it up to face him. “Just relax,” he said quietly. “We won’t do anything you don’t want.”
His words and his tone soothed me, and I felt my shoulders relax. Bernard glanced over my shoulder at Étienne and nodded almost imperceptibly. Étienne’s lips pressed gently against the back of my neck, and I jumped. “Shh,” Bernard soothed, “Just relax into it.” With that, he crushed his lips against mine, and I melted into him.
Don’t overthink it, I told myself. This is what you wanted.
Étienne’s hands slipped from my shoulders and ran down my arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He nipped gently at the back of my neck, and I whimpered. “So responsive,” he whispered against my skin. His hands found their way to my breasts and gave an experimental squeeze. I moaned and arched my back, bringing me closer to Bernard, who was now kissing the base of my throat. “I think we should move this to the bed,” Étienne said with a low chuckle.
“I agree,” said Bernard, and before I knew what was happening he had lifted me in his arms and carried me to the bed, where he laid me gently.
Étienne and Bernard stood back and surveyed me. “Such a pretty picture,” Étienne said, and I felt my pussy clench at his words. I felt empty, desperate to be filled, and I whimpered again.
“I think she’s wearing too many clothes,” Bernard said. “What do you think, Étienne?”
“Definitely,” Étienne agreed. He crooked a finger toward me. “Come here.” Before I could move, he hauled me toward him, his fingers making quick work of the front clasps of my corset. It fell away, leaving my breasts exposed. I felt my nipples tighten at the sudden caress of cold air. “Beautiful,” Étienne murmured appreciatively, brushing his thumb against the tight bud of my nipple.
Étienne took a step back and removed his shirt, Bernard following suit. They both removed their pants, and I gaped at their hard, smooth cocks. Luis hadn’t been nearly as big. And I was about to take both of them. Head flooded my pussy.
“Do you want this?” Bernard asked, pumping one hand up and down his cock. I nodded, my mouth suddenly dry. He stepped forward, taking Étienne’s place, and yanked my skirt up around my waist. They both made noises of appreciation when they saw I wasn’t wearing panties.
“So wet,” Bernard murmured, running his fingers along my slit. “So ready.” The head of his cock pressed lightly against my core, and I arched my back, silently begging for more. “Should I put it in now?” he asked Étienne.
“I think you’d better,” Étienne said, his voice tinged with amusement. “It looks like she can’t wait much longer.”
With that, Bernard buried his cock in me, and I gasped as I felt myself stretched, almost to my limit. “Just like that?” Bernard asked as he pulled almost all the way out and thrust again, just as hard as the first time. I moaned, past the ability to form words.
“I think she likes that,” Étienne chuckled.
“I think she does,” Bernard said, panting now. “She’s so wet. Fuck, she feels good.”
Étienne sat on the mattress next to me, one hand lazily stroking his cock. “As much as I enjoy watching you get fucked,” he purred, “I’ve been fantasizing about this since I first saw your picture.”
At some silent communication between them, Bernard pulled out, and I whimpered at the sudden loss. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m not done with you yet,” he assured me, then flipped me onto my front and thrust into me from behind. My cry of surprise and pleasure was instantly muffled by Étienne’s cock pushing roughly past my lips.