Double Stuffed (A Second Helpings Short Story) Read online

  Double Stuffed

  A Second Helpings Short Story

  Derek Masters

  Always Booked Publishing

  Copyright © 2018 by Derek Masters

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  For all those who love a little too much on Thanksgiving!

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Epilogue

  Untitled

  About the Author

  Derek’s Dark Desires

  Start Reading the Owned Series!

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Also by Derek Masters

  1

  “Hey Poppy,” Sage says, nudging me with his arm. He nods toward the house next door so I turn my glance in that direction.

  Our next door neighbor, Rosemary, is smoking hot. She’s in her early to mid-twenties, has long chestnut-colored hair, curvy hips, a nice, round bubble butt, and a rack to die for. She moved into the house next to ours sometime in August and ever since, we’ve had our sights set on her.

  “Yeah?” I question, but then I see what he’s talking about. “Ohhh,” I mumble as we watch her carry in a few shopping bags.

  The first time I saw her, she was in her backyard, tending to some plants that she’d placed on the back porch. She was wearing an orange bikini and a pair of flip-flops, and I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. Every time she bent at the waist with her back to me, her tiny bathing suit barely covered her butt cheeks, giving me a perfect view of her sweet ass. Sage joined me on the back porch where we were about to barbecue and noticed the goddess next door––not that she’s hard to miss.

  She caught the two of us staring at her when she stood from watering her plants and awkwardly waved at us. We greeted her at the fence that separates our two yards and made some small talk before inviting her over to eat with us––she casually accepted. While the three of us hung out, we started to get to know each other. Sage and I couldn’t help but notice how shy she was.

  At first, it was a sort of game to us––to see who could make her blush the most, but once we got to know her, things changed. We knew she was different, but we were clueless as to how different she was. Rosemary might have moved to the big city, but she was from a small Amish community in a neighboring town. We had no idea about it when we met her because she seemed like an ordinary girl. It took her a while to convince us that she was from Allen County, an Amish settlement, not too far from here.

  “I wonder what she’s doing tomorrow for Thanksgiving,” he says.

  “No clue, man. Do you think we should invite her over? I doubt she has anyone to spend it with.”

  She told us all about her upbringing, her religion, and her disdain for their beliefs. It was her desire to live life in the real world as a normal person instead of hiding behind all of the heavy layers of clothing, covering herself up. I can definitely attest to her grudge against the wardrobe she was required to wear. We’ve seen more of her skin than our own, but you won’t hear any complaints here.

  “Yeah, I think so,” he comments before yelling her name. Startled by the yelling, she spins around as she stands on her porch stoop, looking around. “Rosemary! Come on over!”

  Spotting us on our upstairs balcony, she waves and yells, “Let me set down my bags,” holding them up. She only disappears for a few minutes before she walks over to our house.

  “The front door is open, just come on up when you get inside,” I tell her.

  A few moments later, she joins us on the balcony where we have a small fire in the pit while we watch local sports on our portable television. It’s one of mine and Sage’s favorite past times when we’re not at the sports bar watching the games on the big screen TV.

  “So, what’s up?” She asks. My eyes meet hers for a brief second before they focus on her knit sweater top that hugs her very full breasts.

  “What are you doing for Thanksgiving?” Sage asks, not noticing her sweater because his eyes are still glued on the small screen.

  “Hmm,” she says, chewing her bottom lip. “I don’t know. This will be my first Thanksgiving without my family since I left. I bought a TV dinner at the grocery store, but if you guys like, I can go back and get a couple more so we can all eat together.”

  Now she has Sage’s attention. He loves to eat and he hates TV dinners. The thought of them is preposterous to him, and the fact that she was going to sit at home alone eating them on a family holiday is really sad. “You’re fucking kidding me, right?” He asks. “A TV dinner? Really?”

  The apples of her cheeks flush a deep shade of crimson as she skates her shoe along the wooden board of the porch, her eyes nervously avoiding us. “Um, yeah. I mean, what else am I supposed to do? My family excommunicated me when I left. There’s no way they’ll ever allow me back—not even for a holiday like Thanksgiving or Christmas.”

  “Don’t sweat it, Rosemary. As long as you’ve got us, you’ll always have somewhere to belong. You can come over and eat with us. We’ve got an eight-pound turkey, dressing, and all the sides.”

  “You guys are the best!” She squeals, hugging each of us. Her breasts against my face feel amazing, I just wish that pesky sweater of hers wasn’t in the way. “I’ll go home and bake something! I learned a ton of recipes from my mom so I’ll make something yummy.”

  “You don’t have to,” I tell her. “We’re just glad to have you over so you won’t be sitting by yourself. Nobody deserves to be alone during the holidays.”

  “Thanks, Poppy,” she says, kissing my cheek. Her lips are so soft against my five o’clock shadow.

  “Okay, I’d better get going so I can see what I’m going to whip up. Let me know if I need to bring anything extra so I can hit the store before they close tonight.”

  “We’ve got everything we need,” Sage says, grinning. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

  2

  With the turkey in the oven and almost ready to come out, Sage and I quickly work on the rest of the side dishes so we can put them in the oven while the turkey rests before we dig into a delicious dinner.

  As I finish up the green bean casserole, I hear a dainty knock on the front door. “Rosemary must be here,” I say to Sage.

  “Does she know that she’s the main course tonight?” He laughs.

  “Nah, I figured we’d save her for dessert.” I wipe my hands on a dish towel before answering the door. “Do you really think she’d go for it?”

  “There’s only one way to find out,” he grins. “But we’ve done crazier shit.”

  I arch my eyebrows. “Crazier than double stuffing a sweet little Amish girl?”

  “Well, maybe not crazier, but I’d love to have some Rosemary tonight.”

  “That makes two of us!”

  Opening the door, I’m greeted by a very cheerful Rosemary wearing a pink silk blouse with tan pants and she’s holding a tray of desserts. “What are those?” I ask, helping her inside.

  “Oh,” she laughs. “These are whoopie pies! They’re one of my favorites and I couldn’t decide whether to bring pie or cookies, so I brought the best of both worlds.”

  How appropriate, I think to myself. “They look delicious. Come on into the kitchen and set them down.”

  Following me into the kitchen, she greets Sage and tells him all about
her dessert. He gives me a knowing smile and there’s no doubt we’re both thinking the same thing.

  “So, what can I do to help?” She asks.

  You could start by doing a slow strip tease with that cute little blouse of yours.

  “How about you chop up some of this broccoli for the casserole I’m making,” Sage hands her a chopping board and knife. She starts cutting it up but it’s in huge chunks. “No, like this,” he says, standing behind her. Wrapping his arms around hers, he takes her hand in his and shows her how he wants it chopped. “Take your time and do it real slow so you make sure you get the stalk with the rest of it.”

  Watching the two of them makes bad thoughts run through my mind. All I can think about is the two of us mounting her on counter, one in front and one behind her. Sage must be thinking the same thing because as he remains behind her, he looks over his shoulder at me with a sly smile and unknowingly thrusts behind her while she remains oblivious. I shake my head, jealous that it’s not me.

  “Like this?” She asks, carefully chopping the broccoli like he showed her.

  “Yeah, just like that,” he answers her.

  When dinner is ready, we all gather around the table. Our sweet little Rosemary wants to lead us in prayer but the only thing we want to hear her saying is “Oh God,” over and over. Sage and I have already made a small bet how much we can ruin this innocent girl. Not really a ‘bet’ but more like a competition, and we’re both determined to win.

  “This is so good,” she says, devouring everything like it’ll be her last meal. “Everything is so…juicy, and delicious!” Taking a sip of wine, she swallows it all down. “Nothing ever tasted this good at home. My parent’s food was never this tasty. It was always dry and dull.”

  “We’re glad you like it,” I say. “Would you like some second helpings? More wine?”

  She eagerly nods, “Yes, please, more of everything.”

  I refill her wine glass while Sage passes her some more of her favorite dishes that she’s feasted upon. We eat until we’re all completely stuffed and then head for the couch, leaving all of the dishes behind.

  “I’ve got an idea,” I say after a bit. “Why don’t we break out some more wine. There’s still two more bottles left in the fridge.”

  “I don’t know,” Rosemary says. “I’m so full from dinner that I don’t think I have it in me to even drink another glass. My clothes feel so tight as it is!”

  “I’ve got an old jersey that you can throw on,” Sage offers.

  “I don’t know, maybe I should go home,” she says.

  “It’ll be so big on you that it’ll practically fit like a dress.” She chews her bottom lip, debating what she should do. “Come on, you don’t want to go home just yet. It’s so early.”

  “All right,” she sighs. “You guys have been so good to me and I am having a great time hanging out with you. Maybe I could stay a while longer. Where’s that jersey, Sage?”

  “Coming right up,” he jumps off the couch.

  “And I’ll go get some of that wine,” I say.

  Sage returns to the living room with the jersey he promised her while I pour more wine for us. As I take a seat on the couch with our glasses, Sage motions for me to stand next to him.

  “What are you doing?” I whisper.

  “The bathroom door is cracked and oh my God, she looks even better in her bra and panties than she ever did in her bikini,” he whispers back.

  Craning my neck around the corner, I get a glimpse of her and he’s completely right. Standing in front of the mirror, she uses one of our combs and runs it through her hair while wearing nothing but her underwear. Her soft curves make my dick hard.

  Slipping the jersey over her head, she examines it on her body before reaching up to turn off the bathroom light. Sage and I quickly return the couch, pretending not to have been watching her as we make up some talk about the game that we watched while we made Thanksgiving dinner.

  “You were right. This does fit like a dress,” she says. “And I saw the two of you watching me put it on.”

  3

  We look at each other, waiting for the other to speak. We have to say something—anything—to make this right. Even though we’re both guilty as hell, neither of us comes up with anything to say.

  “Rosemary,” I finally break the silence. “We’re sorry.”

  “Do you guys think I’m stupid? A lot of people assume that since I come from an Amish community that I’m ‘slow’,” she says with air quotes, “but I’m not. I’ve been paying attention to the two of you, and I know what you’re up to.”

  Treading carefully, Sage asks, “What are you talking about?”

  She purses her lips, her hands slowly reaching for the bottom of the jersey. “You two have been checking me out ever since I moved in next door. I’d be a fool not to notice, and I know that’s why you’re so quick to invite me over here all the time.”

  Seductively lifting the jersey, she exposes her white panties. Our eyes are glued to her every move as she continues to talk, and we’re hanging on to her every word that comes out of that sweet, filthy mouth of hers.

  “That’s right, boys,” she lifts the jersey over her head. “I’m still a virgin—in case you were wondering.”

  The two of us are in awe as she flings it towards us. Neither one of us catches it, and it drops to the floor. “Rosemary,” I say, but nothing else will come out.

  We’ve had her pegged all wrong. Ever since she moved in next door, we thought she was so sweet and innocent. We had the innocent part right, and she’s sweet, but neither of us could have ever been prepared for this. Despite our plans for trying to seduce her, she’s flipped them on us and we’re both sitting in front of her with our cocks fully hard.

  Stepping closer to us, she unclasps her bra and tosses it on my lap. It’s only seconds later that she slips her panties down her long, tan legs and throws them at Sage. Standing before us in all of her naked glory, we take in her perfect form.

  Admiring every curve and her tiny bush, my eyes focus on her rosy nipples. I’ve never seen tits as perfect as hers. Almost simultaneously, Sage and I both reach for her and she grins, laughing as she straddles our laps.

  We each take a breast, eager to suck on her nipples. Her hands wrap around both of our heads, allowing us to feast upon her body. I reach for her pussy, hoping to see how wet she is but I’m met with Sage’s fingers—and they’re completely drenched. Together, we take turns fingering her, exploring her tight, virgin hole and massaging he clitoris. Low moans escape her sweet lips and I’ve got to kiss her. Pulling her down to me, my mouth crashes against hers as our tongues frantically dance together.

  Greedy Sage wants a taste of her sweet nectar and pulls her off our laps, breaking our kiss, throwing her onto the couch. Eager to grant us access, she spreads her legs wide and for the first time, I get a glimpse of her pussy on full display. It’s perfectly pink with tiny, neat folds.

  It looks delicious.

  The two of us make a dive for it, taking turns licking her. Her juices are sweet, and I want her to taste herself on me. I leave Sage between her legs and head to the opposite end of the couch where I can kiss her again. She’s impatient to kiss me and this time when our mouths crash against each other, I taste a tinge of blood but I don’t care, and it doesn’t seem to matter to her either.

  But it doesn’t last long.

  Pulling away from me, she whispers, “Let me suck your cocks.”

  Sage and I look at each other, not believing what we’re hearing. She slips off the couch, getting onto her knees, and aggressively reaches for our zippers. I don’t know if it was all the drinking we did today or if she has some magical powers but she yanks both of our pants down within minutes.

  My thick cock twitches as I watch her dainty, manicured hands wrap around my shaft while she takes Sage into her mouth. Alternating between the two of us, she hungrily takes our cocks in her mouth one at a time. The sight is overwhelming and I have
to have more of her.

  I need more of her.

  But she’s dead set on torturing us some more.

  “Before we kick things up a notch, have you ever watched a virgin masturbate?” She says, reaching between her legs.

  I reach over and pinch Sage, just to make sure I’m not dreaming because this is hotter than anything I’ve ever seen or done. When he yelps and jumps, I know this is really happening.

  “The funny thing is,” she says, leaning back so we can see her fingers disappear inside her. “I can feel my hymen. The question is: who’s going to pop it?”

  Holy fuck! Who knew sweet little Amish girls were so fucking dirty? My cock twitches at the thought of having a virgin. I’ve never had a virgin, but Sage has and he told me how fucking awesome it was.

  After rubbing her glistening finger against her clit, she brings it to my mouth and I hungrily lick and suck every last drop of her juices off of it. I’m not sure how it’s possible, but she tastes even sweeter when I’m cleaning it off her finger. She smiles, dipping her finger back inside her before giving Sage a taste.

  This is so fucking hot.

  “So, how are we going to do this?” Sage asks after cleaning her finger. “Because I’m ready to go. After watching the little show you’ve just put on, I can’t wait much longer.”

  I nod in agreement, and that’s when a wide, cheesy grin spreads across her face.

  4

  “I said I was a virgin, but I’ve had plenty of anal sex before. I’ll take both of you at the same time.”

  Oh my God, it just keeps getting better!