A Big Night Out

(This story features Sarah from my story "Bottomless Brunch," but is set a couple of years earlier.)

Sarah sashayed through the main doors to the grand hall, walking with a confidence she didn't feel. The hall was decorated with gaudy gold and silver decorations that did nothing to disguise its true nature as a functional hotel event space. Not that she was paying much attention to the décor. Sarah's attention was on her fellow guests. The family members and proper friends were there already, and now the more distant friends and acquaintances were arriving for the evening do.

Aside from the few older parents, aunts and uncles, the guests were around her age -- late twenties, early thirties. Dozens of slim women, svelte in their best clothes, half of them with a man on their arm and the other half aggressively trying to pull the few single men who were there. In the middle of the hall were Annelise and her new husband, Owen, meeting and greeting. He was averagely handsome, but pulled off his nicely tailored wedding suit well, cut from the darkest navy. She was stunning, of course: her tasteful and elegant white dress perfectly fitted to her lithe, slender form. Blond hair cascaded down her shoulders from beneath her veil. Her neckline was just low enough to show off her cleavage without being trashy, the dress tight enough to accentuate her round backside. She was beautiful, tiny, yet with killer curves. Bitch.

Sarah used to be much more confident in herself. Always curvy, she'd revelled in her large, round breasts and butt. Her hair, so dark it was almost black, contrasted with her pale skin and red lips, and her eyes were a deep, soulful brown. Lately, though, she'd put on weight -- a lot of weight -- and now her belly protruded and hung from her middle. The black dress, that she was sure had fit when she picked it, now clung too tight, accentuating the lumps and bumps she wanted to hide. Her tits were spilling over the neckline, and her arse was straining against her skirt so much that if she bent over she'd split it in two. This was not something she wanted to happen, as the dress was so tight that her underwear had created a blatant VPL, so she'd elected to go commando.

"Sarah! Hi!" Annelise had clocked her, and was beckoning her over with wide open arms. They hugged, their breasts pressing together, and wet through all the formalities -- the congratulations, the how-have-you-beens, the barefaced lie of the we-must-catch-up-properly-soons. Sarah got a peck on the cheek from Owen, who she'd barely shared ten words with since Annelise met him, and made her way to the open bar, determined to take full advantage.

She ordered the largest glass of wine possible, and found a small table that hadn't been claimed. She noted with grim acceptance that her arse only just fit on the chair. She hated this wedding already. She sat there, watching the skinny girls chat and dance and flirt, and knocked back her wine. Alone, no date, no fun, just a fat bitch with no knickers.

Anton smiled politely at the young woman who was hovering around him. She seemed like she'd been drinking for a while already, and was knocking back a vodka and diet coke in between giggles. The tiny brunette had been flirting hard with him for the last fifteen minutes, and he was getting bored.

"It must be exciting being an engineer," she said, looking up at him, as he was a good head taller than her.

"Not tremendously," he replied.

She laughed, far harder than the feeble comment warranted.

"Look, it's been lovely talking to you, but I must go and catch up with my friend over there. It's been far too long since I saw him."

She looked puzzled. "Didn't you arrive together?"

"Yep," he said, walking quickly over to Hakeem. The tall black man had two waifs orbiting him, but he seemed to be quite enjoying himself. Still, Anton placed a hand on his shoulder firmly.

"What's up?" said Hakeem, turning to him.

"Rescue me," said Anton, flicking his head back at the little brunette.

"Not pinging your bell?" asked his friend.

"God, she's just so dull," complained Anton, "and anyway, there's nothing to her."

"Well, same with these two," muttered Hakeem under his breath, as the two girls he'd been chatting to carried on amongst themselves. "But having two of them might make up for it."

"Huh, not between us," replied Anton, dismissively.

The two of them had been friends since college, having met one night at a party and rapidly formed a double-act. After a few nights acting as each other's wing man, they'd met a girl who'd made it very clear she was after both of them. Since then, that had been their pattern: they'd go out on the pull together, and nine times out of ten, they'd find someone together. They specialised in finding a woman and giving her the night of her life, together.

For two men who had seen each other's hard cocks as often as they had, there was no hint of either lust or discomfort between them. They were both resolutely straight, but also completely comfortable with each other. The fact that they were both damned attractive, tall, muscular and prodigiously well-endowed helped. Neither one could be jealous of the other, although Hakeem would tease his white friend sometimes that his cock was the bigger of the two.

"Yeah, yours is big," he'd say, "but some women need more than big, you know what I'm saying?"

That said, Hakeem's dick was so huge that some women refused to even try it.

"The problem with Hakeem," said Anton, "is that most women just can't hack 'im." Quite often, though, their conquests would see this as a challenge.

Anton's eyes wandered, surveying the room, until they landed on the buxom brunette alone near the bar.

"Fuck, who is that?" he said, nodding in her direction so that Hakeem could follow his gaze.

"No idea," said his friend, "but look at that arse!"

"Look at those tits!" responded Anton. "Fuck, she is gorgeous. What the hell is she doing all on her own?"

"I don't know, but she's not going to be alone for long. Come on, we are not letting her slip."

The clunk of a bottle of wine on the table jolted Sarah from her self-reflection. She looked up. An incredibly handsome man stood by her, his broad hand on the neck of a champagne bottle. Three glasses were clasped together by their stems in his other hand. His tanned skin, rough stubble and tousled off-blond hair were at odds with the immaculate cut of his black dinner suit.

"Mind if we join you?" he asked, in a smooth, cultured voice.

"We?" she asked, only then clocking the other man who stood next to him: just as tall and broad-shouldered, with chocolate skin, his head and face clean shaven. He wore a suit in a grey so pale it was almost white, an inversion of his friend.

"I'm Anton," said the first man. "This is Hakeem." The black man held out his hand, his long fingers grasping Sarah's own as he leant down to kiss them gently.

"Sure, please, sit down." She wasn't prepared for two men to suddenly arrive at her table, bearing champagne.

"You'll join us in a drink?" said Anton, as the two men sat. He began pouring, not waiting for an answer.

"Well, it's an open bar," said Sarah, "so why not?"

"Oh, they don't let just anyone have the good stuff," said Hakeem, his voice rich and deep. "You have to know the right people."

"Or just who to pay," admitted Anton, smiling, proffering a full, sparkling glass.

"I must warn you, fellas, I'm probably not going to be very good company," said Sarah, accepting the drink.

"I don't believe that for a second," said Hakeem, smiling broadly at her.

"It's a pleasure just to be in the presence..." started Anton.

"... of a woman like you," finished Hakeem.

Sarah laughed, incredulously. "What are you, a double act?"

"We have been called that," admitted Anton. "I prefer to think of us as a team."

"Well," she said, draining her glass, "I'm not buying it. I'm sure you'll both have a lot more fun with one of those little things over there." She flicked her hand dismissively at the throng.

"That lot?" scoffed Hakeem. "Wouldn't give half of them the time of day."

"Bollocks," she said, as Anton refilled her glass.

"Why's it so hard to believe?" he asked her, seriously. "We want to talk to you."

"Why?" she asked, equally seriously.

"Because," said Hakeem, leaning in, "we both think you're gorgeous, and we couldn't resist coming over here and trying our luck." He got a sharp look from Anton. "What? Best to be honest?"

She shook her head, dropping her gaze from them both, suddenly self-conscious.

"Don't be ridiculous. There's no way you'd pick me out of all those girls."

Anton placed his hand under her chin, and gently pushed her face up to regain eye contact.

"You are the most gorgeous women here," he insisted.

"How?" she asked, unable to believe it.

"Those deep, dark eyes," said Anton.

"That smile," added Hakeem, causing it to briefly reappear on Sarah's face.

"Your breasts," said Anton, unable to stop his gaze falling to her heaving cleavage.

"Well, I guess they're pretty good, actually," Sarah agreed, hesitantly, staring down at the huge, white orbs herself.

"How big are they?" asked Hakeem, leaning over to get a good look himself.

"40J," she said, "although I think they might have gotten a little bigger since I last had them measured. Nothing seems to fit right anymore."

"Fuck," he breathed.

"Everything about you," insisted Anton, "is beautiful."

"Okay," said Sarah, a little reluctantly, grabbing the bottle. "You can stay. But we'll need more of this."

Half way through the second bottle, Sarah was finally feeling relaxed, and more like her old self. Hakeem had moved round to her left, while Anton remained on her right, his hand on her thigh. Hakeem leaned in, and brushed a stray lock of hair from her face.

"Which one of you is coming onto me?" she asked, flattered but confused.

"We both are," answered Hakeem, who was clearly the honest one of the pair.

"What, you expect me to just hook up with both of you?"

"Only if you want to," replied Anton. "If you're only interested in one of us, then the other will just have to admit defeat and mooch off alone."

"And if I'm not into either of you?"

"I'd find it hard to believe, but then we'll both leave you alone."

"Fuck, you're cocky," she laughed.

"I prefer confident."

"Do you do this sort of thing a lot then?" she asked. "Is this your play?"

"We do like to share our evenings," admitted Anton.

Feeling a little overwhelmed, Sarah decided to change the subject.

"You're friends of Owen then?"

Hakeem snorted with mirth. "Hardly. Barely know the guy."

"No," said Anton, "we're old friends of Annelise. Go way back."

Realisation dawned in Sarah's mind.

"Oh my god!" she gasped, under her breath. "Did you two fuck her?"

"We don't kiss and tell," said Hakeem.

"Does Owen know?" she asked.

"Absolutely not," said Anton, shaking his head. "Anyway, we didn't actually fuck her. We had a lot of fun, but..."

"But what?" probed Sarah.

"She couldn't really take us," completed Hakeem.

"What do you mean?" she asked, feigning innocence.

"Some women... struggle to squeeze us in."

"Oh, now that sounds like a challenge," she said.

Anton and Hakeem shared a knowing glance.

"Unless you're just talking shit to get me back to your room," added Sarah.

"Is it working?" asked Hakeem.

Carefully, Sarah reached out under the table, and gently grabbed the black man's crotch. The warm, dense bulge filled her hand, and began to stiffen. She repeated the action with Anton, who smiled widely at her.

"It's working," she said, a flush of wetness surging between her legs. Anton reached down himself, slipping his hand beneath the hem of her dress. His fingers met no resistance, brushing against the bare flesh of her inner thigh and her unclothed bush. She found herself shifting slightly, opening her legs to let him in. He slid his fingers into her cunt, now slick with arousal.

She gasped as he withdrew, brushing her clit. She knocked back the last of the champagne.

"Shall we go?"

The three of them walked hurriedly down the corridor, crashing into the lift which was handily sitting open and untaken. Anton smacked the button for the second floor and then the door, forcing it shut. Sarah found herself sandwiched between the two men in the tight space, the pressure of their hardening cocks unmistakably pushing into her.

Anton leant down and kissed her, gently, but passionately. It seemed like an age, but after a few moments, he released her. Hakeem took this as his cue, leaning down himself to kiss her gently on her neck. She shivered with pleasure.

Abruptly, the big black man grabbed her buttocks, squeezing them.

"God, I love this arse," is growled into her ear. His cock, now rock hard, pressed into the cleft between her cheeks. She briefly imagined him pushing forward, into her, forcing his huge member into her. Another surge of wetness arrived, running down her thigh.

"Why do you love it?" she whispered. "It's so big."

"Exactly," he said, squeezing it harder. "The second we're in our room, I want you to sit on my face. I want to feel it, I want to taste it."

"Be patient," chided Anton. "There's plenty of time for that." He leant down again to stare her square in the eye. "I've got other work for you first."

She smiled, her cunt now so wet she was worried she would start dripping onto the elevator floor.

The lift pinged and the doors slid open. The three of them almost fell out of it in their haste, Anton leading the way down the hall, stopping outside room 212. He unlocked it, and they bundled in. Hakeem, his huge cock forming a prominent tent in the trouser of his suit, spun Sarah round, and kissed her hard. He dick pushed into her thigh, urgent and demanding.

"Oh god," she said, breaking away from the kiss. "I want it." She grabbed at him through his trouser, grasping his thick erection.

"Only his?" asked Anton, with a little mirth in his voice.

"No," she answered, turning to face him. "Both of you. I want your cocks."

"Knees," he said, a stark, firm order. She dropped to them, looking expectantly up to him. He unbuttoned his fly and unbuckled his belt, slipping out the biggest cock she'd ever seen. It had to be nine inches long and as thick as a courgette, pale with a bold, purple head.

"Oh my god," she breathed.

Hakeem moved to her side, as close to her face as Anton was. He'd slipped off his jacket and trousers, and now stood there in his white dress shirt and loose briefs that were stretched to tightness by his huge member. He reached in and slipped it out. It was even longer than Anton's, another inch at least, and just as thick, a dense brown rod with a head so dark it was almost true black. Both men had shaved, accentuating the size of their pieces even more.

A huge smile spread across Sarah's face.

"Who -- who wants it first?" she stammered, her gaze alternating between the two gigantic cocks.

"Start with Hakeem," said Anton. "I like to watch."

Sarah did as she was told, opening her mouth wide and planting her lips on his hot, smooth helmet. She held the shaft in her hand, revelling in its warmth and hardness. Hakeem gasped as she sucked on the head, running her tongue all over it, building up spit. She bobbed her head, taking more of it in. Out of the corner of her eye, she could just see Anton rubbing his own cock in time with her movements.

Desperate to have this huge thing inside her somehow, she supported herself with her hands on Hakeem's legs, and pushed her head forward. More than half of his incredible length slid down her throat.

"Fuck yes," he breathed, as she bobbed her head again, rhythmically sliding the head of his cock against the wet walls of her throat.

"My turn," said Anton, gently grabbing her hair. She came away, with a moan of pleasure.

"You like that?" he said, tightening his grip, winding her dark locks around his fingers.

"Mmm-hmm," she admitted, barely able to speak.

"Open up."

She did so, and Anton thrust his thick cock fully into her mouth. Again, she bobbed on it, sliding as much as she could down her throat. Anton looked down, and made a little frown of disappointment. There was still about three inches of his shaft protruding from her spit-slicked lips.

"All of it," he ordered.

She pulled away.

"I can't," she said. "It's too big."

"You can do it," said Hakeem from behind her. He lifted her skirt, revealing her wide, white backside. He revelled in the sight of it, and slid the long index and forefinger of his right hand into her wet cunt. She squeaked with the sudden pleasure.

"I'll try," she agreed, opening her mouth wide again. She took Anton's cock into her mouth once more, working up as much saliva as she could and slipping it into her throat again. She was a talented deep-throater, she knew, but had never tried to take anything this big down her throat before. The soft head pressed against the back of her throat, and she pushed, forcing herself to overcome the gagging sensation. For a moment she couldn't do it, simply couldn't fit any more of it into her, until suddenly her throat gave in and the tip of his cock pushed past the barrier. She lunged forward, the rest of his prodigious length sliding down her throat.

Anton grunted in pleasure as she rocked back and forth, holding onto him for balance. Drool ran down her chin as her throat convulsed around him. It only made it more pleasurable for him, and he began to thrust with his hips, fucking her throat. At the same time, Hakeem picked up the pace, vigorously rubbing his fingers in an out of her now soaking vagina. The combined sensation was too much; her head spinning, she came, violently, a strangled scream escaping from her occupied throat.

Finally, the two men relented, withdrawing their respective parts, now slick with her fluids. She sat back against the bed, gasping.

Hakeem stood in front of her, stroking his gigantic member, lubing it with her juices. He took her in: her reddened eyes, her tits spilling over her dress, her cunt, just visible in the gap under the dark material.

"Take your clothes off," he demanded.

In spite of her state of post-orgasmic exhilaration, Sarah felt suddenly self-conscious again. She shook her head.

"No," she said. "I'm too big. You don't want to see me."

Anton came up to join Hakeem, stroking his own member.

"Sarah," he said, "you have two men standing here, rock hard at the sight of you. There's not a single part of you we don't want to see. We want to see your tits, we want to see your arse, we want to see your legs and your stomach and your gorgeous cunt."

Uncertainly, she took hold of the hem of her dress. She focussed on these two handsome men, their huge, hard cocks in their hands, and lifted it over her head. Her belly and breasts spilled out, and she dumped her dress onto the floor, before unhooking her bra. She sat there, uncomfortably aware of her belly overhanging her crotch, and the weight of her enormous, hanging breasts.

"Fuck me," said Hakeem.

"You are so beautiful," added Anton, stepping forward.

He moved up to her, kneeling on the floor, and planted a hard kiss on her spit-flecked lips. He moved his head down, kissing her passionately on her neck, her shoulders, further down, kissing all over her breasts. He sucked on her sensitive nipples, causing her to gasp with pleasure, before moving further down, planting kisses all over her round belly.

"You are fucking gorgeous," he said, moving back up to her tits. He buried his face between them.

Hakeem walked up to them, his cock in his hand. He pushed it abruptly into her mouth as she moaned from Anton's sucking on her tits.

"Mmmmh!" A moan of surprise exited her mouth, muffled by the thick meat that plugged it.