Her Boys

She was one of the sexiest girls any of the boys had ever seen. She wore tight, form fitting jeans that curved to the shape of her ass, and constantly reminded the boys of her long, shapely legs. She usually wore tiny little spaghetti strapped shirts, low enough to show ample cleavage, but covering enough to keep her modest. These tops, like the jeans, fit her well, showing the shape of her breasts, the flatness of her abdomen, and when the boys got lucky, the shape of her nipples. Her dark brown hair was either straightened, or up in a high ponytail, showing off the creamy white skin of her shoulder blades and the soft enticing skin of her neck that they we're all dying to bite at and make her whisper there names in her sweet, soft voice.

They were Her boys. That's what she called them. For someone so incredibly feminine, she somehow got along better with the opposite gender. Whenever the boys had a poker night, she could beat most of them. She loved to watch action movies and rarely hid her face when someone got blown up on the big screen. When they went out to the bars, she could down almost as much beer as they could. For some, it was like she was the little sister they had never had, seeing as she was at least one year younger than the youngest boy, and by far the smallest of the lot of them. The only difference was, none of the boys ever woke up hard from dreaming about fucking their sisters.

In fact, none of the boys ever dreamed of fucking there little sisters. Ever since she came into their lives, they only dreamed of her. Sure, they all dated other girls, mostly because they knew that the girl they wanted was completely unattainable. It drove them crazy though, when they walked into the room and her bright blue eyes lit up at the sight of them, and she ran over to them, demanding hugs, and pressing her frame up against them, in what was far too sensual a way to simply be friendly. She'd look at them and demand they got more sleep, smoked less pot, ate healthier, cared for them like a mother hen.

Sometimes, they wished she wouldn't. If she wasn't so damn friendly, they could hate her. As it was they couldn't, they all lusted after her, wanted her, dreamt about her every single night and craved her every moment of every day. Every day they watched her smile and laugh, and every day they craved her body even more.

It was Jake who came up with the plan. To take her out to the bar for her birthday, and to get her really drunk. To take her home, tie her up to her king size princess bed and one by one have there way with her. One by one the other boys slowly agreed to the plan. They discussed who would take her first, who would take her last, who would untie her and who would tie her up. The four of them waited in anticipation, and trepidation for that day.

The day of her birthday all four of the boys woke up, after the most vivid dreams of her tied up, screaming their names and moaning in pleasure. They showered, shaved, dressed in their nicest, sexiest clothes, and met her at the restaurant she'd chosen to start the night at. She was sitting there, at the head of the table, in a tight pink, low cut shirt that tied up and made her already generously sized breasts look even larger. She bounded up to greet them in her tight black skirt and her four inch heels, hugging them, planting drunken kisses on there necks, and cheeks.

They hit the bar later, where she proceeded to slam back Jaeger Bombs, Vodka Sevens and Rum and Cokes. Wasted as hell and clinging onto the bar stool, Jake carried her out to his car and slid her in the backseat, handcuffing her wrists and her ankles.

"What are you doing?" She muttered, snuggling against the back seat and trying to pull the cuffs apart. Jake just smirked, and drove her to her house, parking in her garage, and carrying her into her room. He lay her down on her four-poster bed, removed the cuffs and continued on to remove her clothing. She started struggling against him, and he slapped her on the ass and turned her to face him.

"Don't fight this you dirty fucking tease. You had to see this coming, with the way you act. Pressing yourself, and your gorgeous tits up against us all the time, calling us "your" boys, but never giving it up to us, never letting us get near that sweet, tight little pussy of yours. All that changes tonight though. Tonight, you are our slave. You will do as we demand. Happy Birthday, Bitch" Jake growled, pulling at the strings on her top to undo it and remove it.

"Us...you keep saying us. Who's us?" She asked. Jake just smirked.

"I think I'm going to need some rope." He said.