Beg them to keep going — you need more, your body is aching for it, and you don't care what happens next.

3 Breedmore Lane, Maplewood Suburbs, at 11:27 PM on Friday October 31, 2024

"More," I gasp into the darkness. My voice is wrecked — raw and desperate, barely recognizable as my own. "Please. Don't stop. I need — I need more. I can't — my body won't stop aching —"

Rhys's massive hand cups my jaw, tilting my blindfolded face toward him. "Greedy little bunny," he rumbles, and I can hear the grin. "You've already taken four loads and you're begging for more?"

"Yes," I moan. "Yes, please. I need it. I don't care. Just — more."

"Callum," Rhys says. "You heard her."

The chaise shifts beneath me. I feel Callum's lean body slide onto the cushion beside my head, his velvet robe gone, his bare thighs warm against my cheek. His cock — that long, slender nine inches — presses against my lips, and I open my mouth without hesitation, taking him deep as Rhys positions himself between my legs again.

"Both of us this time," Callum whispers, his fingers threading through my purple hair, gripping tight. "Two brothers breeding the same bunny at once."

Rhys pushes back inside me — that impossible girth stretching my cum-slicked walls wide — and I groan around Callum's cock as the dual sensation overwhelms every rational thought. They find a rhythm: Callum fucking my throat with long, smooth strokes while Rhys pounds my pussy with devastating, full-length thrusts that make the chaise creak beneath us.

The orgasm builds from somewhere primal — deeper than before, more consuming. My body is a single nerve ending, every thrust in my pussy amplified by the cock filling my throat, every gag reflex triggering clenching waves in my cunt. I'm cumming — I'm cumming continuously — rolling peaks that never fully subside before the next one crests.

"Gonna fill both ends," Rhys grunts, his pace turning savage. "Callum — together —"

Callum buries himself in my throat and holds. I feel his cock pulse — hot cum spurting directly down my esophagus, thick ropes flooding my mouth faster than I can swallow. Simultaneously, Rhys slams to the root and his cock erupts inside my pussy for the second time — another massive load blasting against my cervix, his fifth deposit of the night joining the four already overflowing my womb.

The combined sensation — cum filling my throat, cum flooding my pussy, two cocks throbbing inside me simultaneously — tips me over an edge I didn't know existed. My vision explodes white behind the blindfold. My body seizes. And then —

Nothing.

Cold air wakes me. Concrete beneath my cheek. The rough texture of a welcome mat against my bare shoulder where the latex has ridden down.

I blink. The blindfold is gone — I can see the porch railing of 3 Breedmore Lane, the jack-o'-lanterns still flickering on the steps, the October night sky above me. I'm lying on the front porch, curled on my side, the bunny suit twisted and disheveled. The crotch panel is pulled aside, my pussy still leaking — a thick, continuous trickle of white running down my inner thigh and pooling on the concrete beneath me.

The front door is closed. No sound from inside. Both brothers are gone — or at least no longer acknowledging my existence.

I push myself upright on shaking arms. My throat is sore. My pussy throbs with a deep, persistent ache — stretched and used and still dripping with the combined loads of five creampies. My belly feels warm and heavy. The latex bodysuit clings to my sweat-damp skin, the fluffy tail matted and damp.

My purse sits beside me on the porch — someone placed it there, considerately. I clutch it to my chest and stare out at Breedmore Lane. Nine houses still glow with Halloween lights in the distance. The clock on my phone reads 11:41 PM.

My thighs are sticky. My body is exhausted. And somewhere deep in my core, that insatiable hunger is already stirring again — a low, persistent throb between my legs that whispers more, more, more.