Double Stuffed Awakening

I remember the exact moment the whole stupid, glorious mess started. It was three in the fucking morning in my kitchen, and the overhead light was that sick yellow color that makes everyone look like they need a sandwich and a nap. I was wearing one of Bobby’s old t-shirts, the hem stretched over my belly, and nothing else. My tits were leaking again, two dark wet spots blooming on the gray fabric.

Bobby was leaning against the counter, all tall and dark and grinning like he’d just won something. Peter was behind me, close enough that I could feel the heat rolling off his chest, and I could already smell him, that sharp, sweaty, cheap-cologne-and-skin smell that made my mouth water even when I wanted to pretend it didn’t.

“You’re staring,” I said to Bobby, not turning around.

“You’re leaking,” he said, and his voice was low and rumbling, the kind of laugh already tucked inside it.

Peter’s hand landed on my hip, his thumb tracing the curve of my belly through the cotton. “She’s always leaking. That’s the best part.”

I let out a breath that was half laugh, half something else. My pussy was already starting to ache, that deep, hollow, full feeling I got when I knew what was coming. I was so goddamn pregnant I could barely see my own feet, my tits were heavy and sore and dripping, and these two idiots were in my kitchen at three in the morning, looking at me like I was the last meal on earth.

“You two are disgusting,” I said, but I was already pulling the shirt over my head.

The air hit my skin and my nipples tightened immediately, tiny and pink and hard, a bead of milk welling at each tip. My belly hung low and round, pale as a fish belly, and below it, my pussy was bare and soft and already glistening. I was always wet these days. Always full. My cunt hadn’t been empty in weeks, it felt like, and the thought of it made me shiver.

Peter made a sound behind me, a low, hungry groan. Bobby’s eyes dropped to my tits and stayed there.

“Come here,” I said, and I didn’t have to say it twice.

They moved toward me, and I reached for both of them at the same time. My hands found their belts, their zippers, the hot, hard weight of them already straining against their jeans. I pulled them out, one in each hand, and for a second I just held them, feeling the heat of their skin, the heavy throb of blood through all those veins.

Peter’s cock was obscene. Ten inches long, thick as a goddamn pop can, uncircumcised and always wet at the tip, shiny and slick with pre-cum that never stopped. The head was huge, a dark, glistening helmet that peeked out from the foreskin and then disappeared again every time he flexed. It hurt to look at. It hurt more to take. I loved it.

Bobby’s was different but no less dangerous. Darker, thicker at the base, with a foreskin that hugged the head so tight I could barely see the slit. It was leaking too, a steady, clear drip that ran down over my knuckles.

“Fuck,” I whispered, and I started to stroke them.

I used both hands, working them slowly at first, feeling the skin slide over the hardness underneath. Peter’s foreskin was looser, slick with his own pre-cum, and it moved easily over that massive head. Bobby’s was tighter, and I had to pull a little harder, watching the skin bunch and stretch around the ridge. I pressed them together, and the sound they made was wet and obscene, a sticky, sliding noise that went straight to my cunt.

“Look at that,” I said, and my voice was already breathy. “Two uncut dicks, rubbing together. You feel that? The foreskins sliding? Fuck, I can feel every vein.”

Peter’s hips bucked into my hand. Bobby let out a low, shaking breath.

I kept going, pressing them tighter, letting the pre-cum from one slick the other, using all that sticky, leaking fluid as lube. My fingers were coated in it, and every stroke made a wet, sucking sound. I watched the heads emerge and disappear, emerge and disappear, the skin pulling back to show those shiny, swollen crowns and then sliding forward again.

“You’re both so wet,” I said. “Dripping all over me. I love it. I love how sticky it is. I can feel you throbbing in my hands. Peter, your cock is so hot. It’s like holding a fucking iron. And Bobby, yours is thicker at the bottom. I can feel the pulse right here.”

I squeezed the base of Bobby’s cock and he grunted, his hips jerking.

“She talks too much,” Peter said, but his voice was wrecked.

“You love it,” I said. “You love hearing about your own dick. You love hearing how huge it is, how the head looks when the foreskin pulls back. Admit it.”

“I love it,” he said, and his cock twitched hard in my grip.

I dropped to my knees. My belly made it awkward, but I managed, settling back on my heels with my thighs spread wide. My pussy was dripping down my inner thighs now, and I could feel the cool air on my wet skin.

“Bring them here,” I said.

They stepped closer, and I took both cocks in my mouth.

Not one at a time. Both. I opened my jaw as wide as it would go and pressed the heads together against my tongue, tasting the salt and the bitter, the pre-cum and the skin. Peter’s head was so big it stretched my lips, and Bobby’s slid in beside it, and for a second I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, just felt the heat and the pulse and the weight of them filling my mouth.

I pulled back, gasping, and then did it again. I licked up the shafts, pressed my tongue between them, lapped at the place where their foreskins met. I sucked the heads together, my cheeks hollowing, and both of them groaned.

“Fuck, Carole,” Bobby said, and his hand came down on the back of my head, not pushing, just holding.

I pulled off with a wet pop and looked up at them. My chin was slick with spit and pre-cum.

“I want to taste my milk,” I said. “I want to suck my tits and then suck you with the milk in my mouth.”

Peter’s eyes went dark. Bobby just nodded, his jaw tight.

I reached up and squeezed my left breast, hard, and a thin stream of milk shot out and hit my own tongue. It was warm and sweet and thin, and I did it again, filling my mouth with it. Then I took Peter’s cock back between my lips, letting the milk mix with the pre-cum, letting it run down his shaft and over my chin.

He moaned, long and low, and I felt his cock jerk in my mouth. I pulled off and did the same to Bobby, coating his cock with the milk from my mouth, then licking it off, then doing it again.

“You taste like fucking heaven,” Bobby said.

“I taste like milk and cum,” I said, and I grinned up at him. “Your cum. Peter’s cum. It’s all over my face.”

And it was. I could feel it, sticky and warm on my cheeks, my chin, my lips. They were both leaking so much now that it was running down my neck, pooling in the hollow of my throat.

“I want you inside me,” I said. “Both of you. At the same time.”

Peter’s cock twitched so hard a thick, pearly drop of cum welled at the tip and slid down over the head. Bobby’s breath caught.

“You’re sure?” Bobby asked, and his voice was rough, but his eyes were already on my pussy, on the way I was spread open and dripping.

“I’m so fucking sure,” I said. “I want both of you in my virgin pussy. I want to feel you stretching me. I want to feel your cocks rubbing together inside me.”

I lay back on the kitchen floor. The linoleum was cold against my back, but I didn’t care. I spread my legs as wide as they would go, my belly rising between them, and I reached down and spread my pussy open with my fingers. My lips were soft and slick, and my hole was already fluttering, already hungry.

“Look at it,” I said. “Look how wet I am. I’ve been thinking about this all night. Two cocks. Both of you. Filling me up.”

Peter knelt between my legs first. He pressed the head of his cock against my opening, and I gasped. It was so big, so hot, and the foreskin was already pulling back, baring that huge, shiny head. He pushed, and I felt myself stretch around him, felt the burn and the pressure and the impossible fullness.

“Oh fuck,” I breathed. “Oh fuck, Peter, your cock is so big. I can feel the head. I can feel the ridge. It’s stretching me so wide.”

He pushed deeper, and I moaned, my back arching off the floor. My tits bounced, milk spraying from my nipples onto my belly, onto his chest.

“More,” I said. “Bobby, get in here. I want you both.”

Bobby moved closer, and I felt his cock press against the stretched, slick skin just below Peter’s. He pushed, and for a second nothing happened, just pressure and heat and the impossible thought of it. Then my body gave, and he slid in beside Peter, and I screamed.

Not in pain. Not exactly. It was too much and not enough and everything at once. Two cocks, side by side, filling my pussy so full I could feel every vein, every pulse, every inch of both of them. They were rubbing against each other inside me, the foreskins sliding, the heads pressing together, and I could feel it all.

“Oh my god,” I gasped. “Oh my god, I can feel you both. I can feel your cocks rubbing together inside me. Peter, your foreskin is pulling back every time you move. Bobby, yours is so tight, I can feel it stretching around the head. Fuck, you’re both so hot. You’re both throbbing.”

They started to move, and I lost the ability to speak. It was just sensation, just heat and pressure and the wet, obscene sound of their cocks sliding in and out of my cunt. They were both leaking, pre-cum and cum mixing with my own wetness, making everything slick and messy. Every thrust pushed a little of it out, and I could feel it running down my ass, pooling on the floor beneath me.

“You’re so tight,” Peter grunted. “So fucking tight around both of us.”

“I’m going to cum,” Bobby said, and his voice was strained. “Carole, I’m going to cum inside you.”

“Do it,” I said. “Fill me up. Both of you. I want to feel it. I want to feel your cocks pulsing when you cum.”

And then it happened.

Peter came first. I felt it, the sudden swelling, the way his cock seemed to get even bigger inside me, and then the first hot, thick spurt of cum hitting my insides. He groaned, long and low, and his cock throbbed so hard I could feel every pulse against my walls.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” I chanted. “I can feel it. I can feel you cumming. Your cock is throbbing so hard. The head is swelling. The foreskin is pulled back, and I can feel the cum shooting out. It’s so hot. It’s so thick.”

Bobby came a second later. His cock bucked inside me, and I felt his cum join Peter’s, two streams of hot, sticky fluid filling me at the same time. His cock pulsed against Peter’s, and I could feel them both, throbbing together, their cum mixing inside me, flooding my pussy until I was sure I would burst.

“You’re both cumming,” I said, and I was almost sobbing now, my whole body shaking. “I can feel you both. Two cocks, throbbing, pulsing, shooting cum inside me. Peter, your cum is so hot. Bobby, yours is thicker. I can feel the difference. I can feel it all. Oh fuck, don’t stop. Don’t stop.”

They didn’t stop. They kept thrusting, slow and deep, and I felt every pulse, every spurt, every hot gush of cum filling me. My belly was already huge, but now it felt fuller, heavier, and I could feel the cum sloshing inside me with every movement.

It went on for what felt like forever. Minutes. Three minutes of them cumming inside me, their cocks never softening, never stopping. Peter’s cock kept throbbing, kept pulsing, kept shooting that hot, thin cum deep into my pussy. Bobby’s was the same, thick and heavy, his foreskin sliding back and forth as he emptied himself into me.

“I can feel your foreskins,” I whispered. “Both of them. Peter’s is loose, sliding over the head. Bobby’s is tight, hugging the ridge. They’re rubbing together inside me. Your cocks are rubbing together, and I can feel every vein, every pulse, every inch. Fuck, I can feel the cum pooling in my cervix. It’s so deep. It’s so much.”

Finally, finally, the throbbing began to slow. Their cocks softened, just a little, and they pulled out of me, one after the other. The sensation of emptiness was almost unbearable, and I felt the cum gush out of my pussy, thick and hot, running down my thighs and pooling on the floor.

I lay there for a long moment, gasping, covered in sweat and milk and cum. My tits were still leaking, and I could feel the sticky mess on my face, my chest, my belly.

“Well,” I said, and my voice was hoarse. “That was fucking incredible.”

Bobby laughed, low and rumbling. Peter just stared at me, his chest heaving.

“You’re a mess,” Peter said.

“You made the mess,” I said. “You both did. Look at me. I’m covered in cum. My pussy is full of it. I can still feel it inside me.”

I reached down and touched myself, feeling the slick, sticky heat of their cum on my fingers. I brought them to my mouth and licked them clean.

“I want more,” I said.

Bobby’s eyes widened. Peter’s cock twitched, already starting to harden again.

“You’re insatiable,” Bobby said.

“I’m pregnant,” I said. “And I’m horny. And I have two cocks in my kitchen that just came inside me and I’m not done yet.”

I pushed myself up onto my elbows, my belly heavy and round, my tits swaying. I looked at both of them, at their softening cocks, still slick with my wetness and their cum.

“I want to feel you both again,” I said. “But this time, I want to watch. I want to see your cocks rubbing together. I want to see the foreskins sliding. I want to see the cum dripping from the tips.”

So they stood over me, and I watched as they pressed their cocks together, stroking them slowly, letting the cum and pre-cum mix and drip. I reached up and squeezed my breast, spraying milk onto their cocks, and they both groaned.

“Fuck, Carole,” Peter said. “That’s so hot.”

“I know,” I said. “Now stroke each other. I want to watch.”

They did. They wrapped their hands around each other’s cocks, stroking slowly, and I watched the foreskins slide, the heads emerge, the cum drip. I watched their cocks throb and pulse, watched the veins stand out, watched the sticky strings of cum stretch between them.

“You’re both so beautiful,” I said. “Two uncut cocks, dripping and throbbing. I could watch this all night.”

And then, because I couldn’t help myself, I leaned forward and took both of them in my mouth again. I sucked them together, tasting the milk and the cum and the sweat, feeling their cocks pulse against my tongue. They came again, both of them, shooting hot cum into my mouth and onto my face, and I swallowed as much as I could, letting the rest drip down my chin and onto my tits.

When I finally pulled back, I was a wreck. Covered in cum, milk, sweat. My pussy was still leaking, still full, still aching.

“I want one more thing,” I said.

“What?” Bobby asked, and he sounded almost afraid.

“I want to feel three cocks inside me,” I said. “At the same time.”

They both stared at me.

“You’re joking,” Peter said.

“I