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Jules took the corner seat and tugged me in after him. A warm palm on my lower back pulling me down into his lap. Trevor took the opposite bench and flagged the waiter with a smile, like this was any other dinner.
I squirmed, awkward, aware, underneath the tablecloth of every inch of thigh exposed by dress riding up. But Jules murmured against my neck, "Shh. Sit still."
My thighs clenched. I knew that voice. I felt his cock stiffening beneath me and his hand, easing himself out of his pants, slow and deliberate, I stopped breathing.
He let me shift once. Just once. Just enough for the head of him to nudge at my entrance.
I turned to look at him, surprised. But he brushed his fingers up my bare thigh with a wicked smile.
"You'll manage," he said. "You're clever when you need to be."
Trevor didn't look up. Just sipped his water and murmured, "She is clever. And very wet, too. Isn't that right, Joy?"
I burned. Every nerve flaring. Jules shifted his hips, and the head of his cock pushed deeper into me. Just enough to stretch me open and leave me aching for more.
"I said sit still," he repeated. Calm. Precise. His breath ghosted over my ear. "Unless you'd prefer to stand up and let our waiter know what I've done to you."
The waiter arrived. Trevor ordered for all of us and handed back all three menus with a smile that was far too pleased.
I sat, holding as still as possible, warming Jules. Every once in a while he would shift or move and I would clench reflexively around him and he'd murmur something under his breath.
"Keep it in."
"Take a breath."
"Good girl."
When my fingers trembled, Trevor reached across the table and laid his thumb against my wrist, rubbing slow circles like he could coax the tension from my pulse.
The food came. I barely touched mine. I was flushed to the roots of my hair, soaking the inside of my thighs, and so full of Jules I could feel my heartbeat in my cunt.
By the time dessert was offered, I was soaked and aching, and struggling to think of anything except the ache between my legs.
When dessert was offered, Trevor leaned back with a satisfied sigh. "Nothing for us," he said, flashing a lazy grin. "We've already got something sweet waiting."
Jules pressed his mouth too close to my ear, not quite a kiss, and said quietly, "Time to go."
The disused cloakroom was dim and quiet. Trevor pushed the door quietly closed behind us, looked around and nonchalantly took off his jacket and hung it over the security camera.
"Just us now," he said with a wink. "Perfect." He leaned back against the door, crossed his arms and smiled.
There was an overstuffed chair in the corner. Jules walked me back until the backs of my thighs brushed the chair. He paused, one hand warm at my waist, the other sliding up to stroke my hair.
"Yes?" he asked, voice low.
"Yes." I said, already breathless.
He nodded once. Then turned me and guided me forward. My knees went soft. I braced on the arms of the chair, dress rucked up around my waist, breath already hitching. I heard the sound of his zipper, then felt him pushing his hips against my ass. He was still hard from dinner, from me holding him through every course, every stifled shiver, every eye contact that went on a second too long.
"You were perfect at dinner," he murmured. "Nice and still. You kept our little secret and held me inside you like a good girl."
He leaned in, purring, lips brushing my ear. "I could feel how wet you were. The whole time. You soaked me, Joy. Just sitting there."
I whimpered, hips shifting back to meet him.
He didn't rush. One hand slid between my legs, fingers parting me. He groaned under his breath. "Christ. This pussy," he said, almost reverent. "Dripping. Hot. So ready for it."
His cock nudged against me--"Do you want it?" he asked.
"Yes." It came out cracked. Raw. "Please."
And then he pressed in.
One smooth, deep thrust. Stretching me full. Seating himself with a low, guttural exhale.
The chair rocked against the wall.
He held there. Let me feel all of it. Then he started to move. Slow at first, then harder, finding the rhythm he wanted and setting it. Sharp thrusts. Brutal rhythm. My hands slipped once on the leather and he just gripped my hips harder, holding me steady while he fucked me, breeder-deep. The squelch of it filled the little room, obscene, wet and honest. I moaned, but Jules shushed me.
"Shh," he cautioned. "What if someone hears you? Do you want them to come in here to see you being bred like this?"
I shook my head, moaning softly behind my lips. He pounded into me harder. The chair rocked against the wall. My toes scrabbled for purchase on the floor. My thighs shook. I felt the drag of his cock as he pulled back and then slammed in again, pushing my hips forward and pulling it back again with his hands.
He came with a groan, low and guttural, hips grinding hard as he emptied himself into me. My walls fluttered around him, greedy, aching. He stayed deep for a breath, two, then pulled out slowly and carefully, tilting my hips up so that not a drop spilled down my thighs.
I heard Trevor move away from the door, then the quiet shift of fabric. The soft clink of his belt. A moment later, he stepped in behind me, one hand on my waist, the other trailing down the curve of my ass. His fingers slid between my thighs. Just once, to feel how wet I was. Then he lined himself up and pressed inside.
Slow. Steady. Longer than Jules, and just as thick. My breath caught as he sank deeper, lifting me onto the balls of my feet, my body arching back into him.
"You're so beautiful like this," he sighed. "Already bred and still so fucking needy. Sweetheart, you were made to take both of us." His hands slid up my back, his cock stroking slow and smooth inside me, the fullness building again--thick and aching and unbearably good.
I couldn't think. Could barely breathe. All I could feel was the stretch of him, the heat, the way my body clenched and welcomed and held.
When he came, it was high and deep, right against my cervix. His hands slid down to my thighs, holding me there while he pulsed inside me, breath warm at my neck.
"So fucking perfect," he murmured. "So good."
I reached down, still trembling, trying to tug my skirt into place.
"Not yet," Jules said. "You're leaking. I knew this would happen. If you want it to take, you'll have to hold our cum inside you. You'll need something to keep it all in."
I didn't hear the box open, but I felt his palm on my thigh. Felt the way he parted me with one careful hand.
He'd brought the plug.
The one with a buldge - the one he'd had custom made to seal me up and keep their cum deep inside after they bred me. Heavy and thick. Blunt silicone shaped for stretch and hold, with a broad, round bulge at the base.
"Jules," I gasped. "I don't think I can..."
I felt the tip of the plug nudge against my opening. He had it aligned just so--angled up and in. I gasped. My cunt, already swollen and stretched, clenched reflexively, and the plug caught at the entrance.
"I can't," I whispered again, a tremble under the words. "It's too much. I can't hold it. I can't take that bulge--"
"Yes you can," he said. Calm. Certain. "It's yours. Made for you. Measured to fit. You've taken it before. You can take it now."
Trevor kissed my wrist. Then my temple.
I whimpered when the widest part of the head started to stretch me open. I was soaked--more than soaked--but still, it dragged. My walls fluttered. I shook my head.
I sobbed as the widest part began to stretch me. Pressure and stretch. I tried to wriggle around it.
Jules was patient. He pressed it forward slowly, holding the plug with both hands, rotating it gently, to ease the shape inside me. "You're already doing it," he said. "Look at you. You're almost halfway. Relax... Let it in. Let it lock."
Trevor kissed me again. "You can do this, sweetheart. You're incredible like this. You're so close to taking it all in. You want to keep all of it, don't you? Want to seal us inside?"
The bulge breached with a slick pop.
I buckled.
Jules caught me. Held me steady.
"There," he said. "You're done."
The bulge sat heavy inside me, wide and full and unyielding. I could feel the seal of it--tight, snug--resting deep, keeping every drop inside. My body clenched around it without meaning to. That just made it worse--made it shift, press higher. My breath caught in my throat.
"Easy," Jules murmured. One hand smoothed down the back of my thigh. "Don't fight it. Just let the bulge do the work. Just.. hold."
Trevor reached down and tugged my dress back into place, careful not to brush too hard against the curve of the plug.
"You okay, sweetheart?" he asked, voice low. "Still good?"
"I'm good," I said, though my voice wavered. "Just... full."
He smiled, kissed my shoulder. "That's the idea."
I tried to stand upright, but every movement made the knot shift. My body responded instantly--clenching, fluttering, tightening to hold it in place. I gasped, hand reaching blindly for something to steady me.
Jules caught my elbow and passed me his jacket.
"Come on," he said gently. "Let's get you home."
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