Bear Mountain Clan Brides: romantic bbw werebear menage (20 page)

Kyle and Duncan got hot and hard as they watched Hamish slam himself into her ass, as her soft, pink flesh shook and rolled. Hamish wedged his thighs tight between hers; forcing her even wider and he beat her in a rising rhythm. His hard hunk slid against her tender, aching clit and made her shout and thrash.

Duncan and Kyle had to hold her arms hard as she shook. She drooled and yelled when she came, and Hamish reared up so hard and tall, the veins stood out so much on his hard, swollen neck that Duncan and Kyle feared he might shift there and then.

After he shot his hot load into her gasping, gaping, hungry pussy, he sweated and yelled and the three brothers whooped. They high-fived each other, even though Hamish could hardly stand.

Kyle loved Hannah’s tits. He rubbed his stiff cock in the warm, fat softness between her bouncing, bubbly pillows and she held him there. Hannah sucked hard on Duncan and Hamish’s cocks while she sat on the edge of a table and Kyle got in between her warm, welcoming thighs and slipped his meat into her wet, warm walls.

She breathed hard as she felt him rise through her and fill her to her core. His hardness and her softness combined their heat and his wet, glistening body slid close to hers. He fucked her gently, lovingly, slowly. Then he plowed her with a traction like an engine. He pumped and pounded her shaking, enveloping flesh and she held him close when he came to the pinnacle.

Her hands held the back of his thick, hard neck and she felt the muscles of his strong shoulders roll and flow as his hips pistoned his cock deep, hard and high into her. She locked her legs around his gorgeous, downy ass to pull him as far in as she could and her hips slid her along his rail like a steam engine, puffing hard up a hill.

When they came, they crested together. They both held each others’ hands so tight it was a wrestle and, as the beads stood out on his brow, he buried his head in her full enfolding breasts and he shouted as he blasted his fountain of love against the soft needing darkness deep within her.

When Duncan fucked her, he fucked her mouth right into her throat until the saliva hung out in strings and she gagged. He slapped her ass and her thighs and he worked her tiny, soft star open.

Then he plugged his fingers in it. He put cool lube around it and dragged it open, wider than it had ever gone. And then he drove his massive shaft, breaking, burning, boring through her. Her cries as she bit her arm and banged her hands only made him fuck her harder and harder.

He fucked her ass in the chair, then he splayed her on the floor. He flipped her on her back and he squeezed and kneaded her huge, soft tits as he jammed his cock up her ass again.

Then he lifted her, held her against a wall. Held her with his strong hands under her big, beautiful butt. He looked her in her flickering, dancing eyes as his hard, fat cock found her wet pussy.

Her big breasts heaved as he slid inside her. Her sex sucked him in and she groaned, a long slow, deep groan, as his shaft drilled all the way into her. Her hot, swollen bush met his wiry haft. His pubic bone scraped against her soft, sore mound.

Her back scraped sore against the wall. Her pussy hugged and held it all the way. She felt the thrum as his beat reached its peak. He pulsed and he pumped and she squeezed her ass and her hips around him. His hot bursts filled her and she collapsed with her head on his shoulder and her arms draped down his back.

And they all lived happily ever after. Did I say?

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BILLIONAIRE

BEARS’ CLUB

Ursula Maya

Dedicated to my own
very special bear

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The warm scent of fur was overpowering in the steamy heat. Sweet and soft, yet dark, musky and hot. Hot in both senses. Across the slick tiled floor, the big, furry beasts loped out of the steam towards me. The rasp of their breath set my thighs trembling.

Through the mist, as they lumbered nearer, their human forms were barely any less huge than their shifted masses. Without the shaggy fur, though, there was something I couldn’t see before.

The billionaire bears were all hung with humongous, horny human hammers. All of their great poles rose and stiffened, thickened and hardened as they approached.

My breath caught in my heaving breasts and my thighs, quivering hot, shook unsteadily on my watery knees. As my mouth drooped open, I wondered if I should keep up my good-little-girl, innocent intern act, or surrender myself to the inevitable.

My skimpy clothes were so damp, they clung to my skin and I wanted to peel them off. Peel them and tear them. I wanted to stand, dripping in torn, wet shreds, exposed for the team of the Billionaire Bears.
 

When I got the call on that Monday morning, I had been sleeping off my second tedious weekend alone in the Big Apple. It seemed like a ridiculous kind of an assignment, but most of the assignments that an intern gets at Golden Ballzack seem ridiculous.

In the elevator, I once overheard two of the securities team debating which was the lower status, an intern whose daddy had to buy her into the firm, or one who had to work for it because her daddy couldn’t afford to buy her in. My status was the second of those two. My daddy said,

“Honey, you don’t get anything worthwhile in this life without hard work.”

I love my daddy, but sometimes he is full of shit.

I did work like a dog through school and college to get to my miserable, menial internship where the money is. Still the nearer you get, the further away it looks. I had sacrificed everything for this opportunity to get a foot in the door of the great machinery of business and finance.

I had no social life, I had no love life at all since my freshman year, and that was only a cheating bastard who was doing my room mate while I was in class.

I knew no-one in the city anyway. Sensual comfort for me was on the Kindle, on random chat sites or snuggled up with my faithful little battery-powered pet. The touch of hot human flesh had eluded me now for longer than I could bear to recall.

So, briefed for my mission implausible assignment of the day, I waited on the scorching New York street at the bus stop by Grand Central for the Jitney to carry me to the Hamptons and deliver what seemed like an unnecessary message.

One that could easily have been phoned, texted or e-mailed, and which I couldn’t really understand anyway, to a bunch of high-flying traders who probably couldn’t have cared less.

My mission was to find the securities team in person,
The Billionaire Bears
, as they were called, and to tell them that their investment bankers had the best performance of any group last month, and they’d made even more kachillions of loot for the already obscenely wealthy firm.

The securities desk were called ‘the Bear Market’ by everyone in the firm. Whenever they were spoken of, it was in hushed tones, with a sense of awe. Why Golden Ballzack wanted to send me to deliver the news I had no idea. I think I figured it out in the end, though.

A courtesy limo met me at the East Quogue stop and I climbed into the back. The thing was almost the length of the bus that I had just got off, only there was nobody in it but me and the driver. It was a long way from where I sat in the soft black leather rear bench to where he was, but not so far that I couldn’t see him checking out my tanned legs and my excessively bouncing tits.

I knew that I should have been wearing a bra, but I slept late and got the call ridiculously early, and the one I had planned to wear still wasn’t dry. Anyway, the soft pink jersey rolled over my big girls in a very appealing way, I thought. And most people were polite enough not to stare and ogle. Most people, unlike this driver. If it gives some pleasure, well I’m all for that, but show some manners, dude.

He peered at me in the steamed up mirror and the noise of his breathing unnerved me so much I said, “Watch the road, dude!”

The country club was a gorgeous white sweep of colonnades and classical arches behind immaculate emerald lawns, and inside it was all pale wood, gold and marble.

The prim blonde in the dark suit and glasses at the reception desk told me that Golden Ballzacks’ group of sixteen executive asset consultants were just now completing their morning basketball game, and they were to be found by the leisure center.

When she snapped her fingers, an actual bell-hop appeared, red monkey suit, gold braid and little pillbox hat and all.

“Show this young lady to the leisure center,” was all she said through her wiry smile before she returned to the fascinating papers on her desk. I wondered what it was that had drawn her to the hospitality business.

The bellhop was cute, and the short jacket made his butt look very appealing. His name was Andy, and as he bounced alongside me, he said,

“Those Ballzacks guys, boy, they sure like to party, right?” I said that I didn’t doubt it, but I hadn’t been partying with them. He looked me up and down, checked my pert ass swaying in the white pleated skirt, trim legs shown nicely, I hoped, by the tall, clicky heels. Manolo’s, no less. Andy said,

“Well, I bet you’d make anybody’s party,”

I smiled at him and he smiled back. ‘Job in hand, Honey,’ I told myself, ‘Fix your mind on the job in hand.’ I couldn’t help noticing the front of his pristine pants, tightening as it was stretched forwards by a swelling from behind. I realized that I was licking my lips as I thought about the job I would have liked to get in my hand right then.
 

When I looked back up at Andy, his face was bright red.

We came to a pair of big pale wood paneled double doors, and Andy suggested I wait while he went in. As he pushed open the doors, deep, assertive and distinctly male growls echoed out. The doors swung closed behind him and there was a brief hush. Then a loud, roaring cheer.