Cabin at the Lake Ch. 04

Terry opens the wine while Gary and I set the cheese, crackers, and bread out. He starts to say something when I hold my little tin cup out for some wine.

He pours without saying a word. When I pull the cup back, the bottom is barely covered. I scowl at it but it is his turn to dare me, with a look, to say something. Instead, I drain the cup and snatch the bottle before he can react. I pour some in my cup and tip it so he can see it is a small pour and hand the bottle back.

"I haven't even needed Advil for a week. I can have a glass of wine," I snap. I had hoped getting myself off would relieve a little of my tension. Wrong. It only served to remind me of what I was missing.

I'm not very hungry. I nibble at some cheese and have a few crackers while the boys polish off the bulk of the food as I watch them in amusement. There won't be much to pack up except trash. They finish off the wine like a couple of winos, passing the bottle back and forth.

They dump everything in the basket, set it off the blanket and stretch out on their backs on either side of me. I sit, cross-legged, between them, facing their identical pairs of feet, munching on the few grapes I had managed to keep away from them. I pluck one with my lips, turn and offer it to one brother, pluck another and offer it to my other brother. I love the feel of their lips and tongues on mine. I open my mind and hope they can sense it. Their hands stroke my back and I know the message was received.

I toss the denuded grape stem into the grass and begin to stroke each of their cocks, loving the feel of the growing firmness beneath my fingers. I feel my pussy begin to swell and dampen. Soon both my brothers are rock hard.

I'm desperate to fuck them, to be fucked by them. I wonder if they can go down on me. That's not fucking. It's not masturbating exactly but it is not fucking.

"No." The boys' voice are perfectly synched. I'm not looking at their faces. I'm not sure it they spoke out loud but the message is clear enough. They intend to follow the doctor's orders to the letter. Damnit. Assholes.

"Assholes who love you."

I don't know if the words were spoken but I choose to reply the old-fashion way. "I know that. Not that it does my cunt any good."

I turn to face them, putting a brick wall in front of my thoughts. Confusion fills their faces as the connection is broken. I give them my best I'm-just-a-sweet-innocent-little-girl smile before I take Gary's cock in my mouth in one quick, fluid, motion. He's surprised but his body reacts before his mind engages. He pushes his dick deeper into my mouth. I consider deep-throating him but guess that gagging would not be good for my head. I flash them both a relax-big-brothers-I'll take-it-easy message of reassurance and feel my brother's body relax. I savor the taste of my brother's cock as Terry rolls on his side and begins to stroke my back.

I play it safe, taking less than half his cock in my mouth. I do the rest with my hands. I stroke his shaft, letting my spit coat his cock. I twist my hand as I stroke, knowing he likes that, knowing it without any mental telepathy bullshit. My other hand squeezes, softly, at his balls, then tugging. When he starts to fuck my mouth more than I'm sucking his dick, I pause.

I urge both of them on their feet. They stand side by side, arms around each other's waist. They start kissing, as I turn my attention to Terry's cock. It's just as savory and just as missed. I approach his cock as I had his brother, mostly using my hands. My mouth, my lips flit back and forth over the flare of his crown.

I stop long enough to wet the middle finger of my right hand. When I return to Terry's cock, my right hand reaches behind his balls and my finger rubs over his asshole a few times. When he relaxes, I enter him and begin to massage the firm mound of his prostate. In my mind, I picture what I want and Gary twists so that his cock presses against my cheek.

I let Terry's dick slip from between my lips and wet the middle finger of my left hand. I find Gary's pucker and I'm inside him, rubbing him. My fingers force their cocks to start to drip and I lick each head, alternating, trying not to miss a drop. I 'suggest' they jerk themselves off. I 'suggest' they put the heads of their cocks in my mouth.

They oblige. The heads are all my mouth can accommodate. Their hands move slowly; they are careful not to hit my face or lips as they stroke their cocks. I continue to press and rub inside their asses.

They cum at the same time. Criss-crossing jets of hot jizz fills my mouth to overflowing. I swallow what I can. The rest runs down my chin and falls onto my breasts. After the boys catch their breath, they kneel beside me. Clean my breasts with their tongues. We kiss and then fall asleep on the blanket.

When we wake the sun is setting. We fell asleep in the shade and though luck rather than planning avoid a nasty sunburn.

The next two weeks pass slowly, baked away by the Texas sun. The grass yellows. The lake turns into a bathtub and the shore weeds explode. The boys know how much I hate the weeds. They rescue one of the kayaks from the boathouse, clean it up and I use it to float past the weeds. They make me wear a life jacket, even though I don't go into water over my head.

My scar is fading I think. The vivid red giving way to a softer pink. It doesn't itch anymore. My hair is maybe a quarter inch long, still not enough to hide the scar. I want to let my hair grow, but I want to cool off in the water even more and the stubble makes it hard to cover the scar. I think that's over kill. The damn thing is clearly healed. The boys continue to treat Dr. Mallory's words as divine revelation. How happy he will be to discover that.

I relent, even if it means starting Harvard with a shorn head, and Terry very tenderly shaves my head. He doesn't nick me once, earning himself a blowjob. Gary gets one for lending moral support. They still refuse to go down on me, though technically it is only a day or two shy of six weeks.

They threaten to wait until Dr. Mallory comes out and gives me the all clear, even though that is closer to eight weeks than six, so I relent, and forgo badgering them. I do convince them that I like blowing them, even if they can't reciprocate. They know I'm not lying. I can't lie to them.

So I get plenty of chances to work on my oral skills, which weren't too shabby to begin with if I do say so myself. I never imagined I'd end up loving sloppy sno-ball kisses as much as I do.

My nitwit brother's stick to their 'celibacy' rule to show their solidarity with my plight. They've sucked each other off a few times but no fucking. I give up telling them they don't need to do that. They know they don't, not for me. And I know they do, for themselves.

Despite the heat, they have completed the work on the cabin. It's in better shape than it was when dad bought it. He'd be proud of the boys', and my, work. I finished painting the bathroom while the boys napped. They had gotten up at dawn to shingle the roof. By mid-morning it was too hot to shingle. By then the sun would turn the shingles into more of a liquid than a solid.

When they woke, I convinced them to celebrate in style, or as much style as we could muster given their fanatical adherence to the good doctor's dictates. I sucked them, they sucked each other, when they were close I rolled onto my back. I hooked my arms under my knees and pulled my knees to my head. I spread my legs as far open as I could.

My ass and pussy were in the air, gaping. The boys knelt beside me and sprayed their cum over my pussy and ass. I hoped the sight of all those beautiful gobs and trails of jizz would overcome their fanaticism.

I used their cum as a lube, as I worked my clit with one hand and shoved three fingers in my ass.

There is no way I could have cum any harder by having a cock in me. I don't care what Dr. Mallory's literature search claimed about the difference been masturbatory and coital orgasms.