Chapter 15: The Reverend's Shock
The scent of roses was cloying. It couldn’t mask the older, deeper smell of the room—polished wood, dust, and the faint, sweet decay of dried flowers left in a vase too long. Nia stood before a gilded mirror, the bodice of her wedding gown gaping open, unfinished. Her rounded belly, a soft curve beneath her corset, was a constant, undeniable presence. The twins—no, triplets—made her feel heavy, full, and a relentless, low thrum of heat pulsed between her legs. The doctor’s words echoed. Elasticity. Dilation. Made for this.
A key turned in the lock.
She didn’t jump. A strange calm settled over her. She watched in the mirror as the door opened and Trez filled the frame, his black tuxedo making him a column of shadow. Jax slipped in behind him, already loosening his tie, a familiar predatory gleam in his eye. Then, one by one, five more figures—Jax’s teammates, massive, grinning—crowded into the bridal suite. The room shrank.
“Big day,” Trez said, his voice a low rumble that vibrated in the quiet. He closed the door, the lock clicking with finality. “You’ll say your vows to Cam. You’ll wear his ring. But you’ll walk down that aisle knowing exactly what you are. You’ll be dripping with us.”
Nia’s breath hitched. The heat in her core flared, becoming a desperate ache. She turned from the mirror, her back to them, and without a word, she bent over the vanity. The satin of her skirt pooled on the floor. She reached back, took the delicate lace of her bridal thong, and pulled it down to her knees, baring herself.
A chorus of low whistles and appreciative curses filled the air.
“Damn, Jax. She’s fucking begging for it.”
“Look at that pregnant pussy. Swollen up nice.”
Jax was the first to her. He didn’t bother undoing his pants fully, just freed his thick, hard cock. He spat into his hand, slicked himself, and pushed into her pussy from behind in one smooth, deep stroke. Nia cried out, her hands scrabbling on the vanity, knocking over a pot of powder that clouded the air.
“Fuck yeah,” Jax grunted, setting a brutal, possessive rhythm. “Still the best cunt I’ve ever had. Made for big cock. You feel that, boys? This is championship pussy.”
He fucked her hard and fast, his balls slapping against her, his hands gripping her hips. Nia moaned, pushing back against him, the pleasure immediate and overwhelming, drowning the last shreds of guilt. This was her body’s truth. She came around him in a rippling, shuddering climax, her knees buckling.
Jax pulled out, his cock glistening. “Alright. Who’s next? Don’t be gentle. She’s already full of baby. Can’t break her.”
A burly lineman named Marcus stepped up. He chose her ass, his fingers digging into her cheeks before he pressed the blunt head of his cock against her tight hole. He used the mix of her slick and Jax’s cum as lube, pushing slowly, inexorably, until he was buried to the hilt in her ass. Nia screamed into the crook of her arm, the stretch a bright, shocking pain that melted into a deep, full pleasure as he began to piston into her. He came quickly, grunting, flooding her back passage.
The next two took her pussy, one after the other, their thrusts vigorous and impersonal. The room stank of sweat, sex, and perfume. Nia lost count, lost herself in the rhythm of taking them, her mind blank, her body a slick, used vessel. The fifth, a wide receiver, came on her back, his hot stripes painting her skin.
They left as quietly as they came, clapping Jax on the shoulder, leaving Trez and Jax alone with her.
She was a mess. Makeup smeared, hair coming undone, her back and ass slick with sweat and seed, her pussy gaping and throbbing.
Trez approached. He and Jax hauled her upright. Her legs were weak. They turned her, her back against Trez’s solid chest. He kissed her neck, his hands cupping her heavy, sensitive breasts through the corset. Jax knelt before her, his eyes locked on hers as he guided his cock back into her well-fucked pussy. The feeling of re-entry was exquisite, a fullness that made her sob.
Then Trez’s hands were on her hips, adjusting her. She felt the immense, familiar pressure of his crown nudging against her stretched entrance, right beside his son’s shaft.
“Open for me, baby girl,” Trez breathed in her ear.
She bore down, her body remembering, obeying. He pushed. The stretch was monumental, a blinding, consuming sensation of being split wider than thought possible. Two massive, rock-hard cocks forced themselves side-by-side inside her, stretching her pussy into an obscene, taut oval. She could feel every ridge, every vein, the impossible heat.
“Fuck! Look at that!” Jax groaned, watching his father’s thickness disappear alongside his own.
They began to move, not in unison, but in a devastating counter-rhythm. One pushed as the other withdrew, ensuring she was never less than completely full. It was a sensation that tore sanity away. Her head lolled back against Trez’s shoulder, her mouth open in silent screams of pleasure. Her swollen belly jiggled with their thrusts.
The door opened.
The Reverend stood frozen in the doorway, his hand still on the knob. His face, already lined with concern, underwent a seismic shift. Confusion. Disbelief. Horrified recognition. Then, a flicker of something dark and unwelcome—arousal, sharp and immediate, betrayed by the slight drop of his jaw and the way his eyes stuck on the lewd junction where his daughter was impaled.
“Nia?” His voice was a strangled whisper. “What in God’s name…”
Trez didn’t stop moving. His thrusts became slower, more deliberate, a display of absolute ownership. Jax grinned up at the reverend, not missing a beat.
“Hey, Rev. Little early for the ceremony, ain’t it?”
“This… this is infidelity! This is sacrilege!” the reverend stammered, but his eyes didn’t leave. He saw the cum drying on her back, the mascara tracks, the way her body convulsed around the twin invaders.
“Infidelity?” Trez said, his voice calm, even as he sank deep into Nia, making her whimper. “There’s no infidelity here. This is family business. She’s carrying my son. And his.” He nodded at Jax. “And Cam’s. One each. The ultrasound confirmed it. So we’re just… tending to what’s ours. Making sure the mother of our children is properly cared for.”
The reverend blanched. The clinical, brutal truth of it shattered his moral framework. He’d seen the sonogram picture Trez had tersely sent—three sacs. He’d prayed for a miracle, for a mistake. This was the mistake. Visceral, grunting, wet.
Nia found her voice, hoarse and broken with pleasure. “Daddy… it’s… it’s okay… it feels… oh God, it feels so good…”
Her words, her utter abandon, were the final blow. The reverend’s face crumpled. His own traitorous body stirred, shaming him. He took a shaky step backward.
“You will not… you cannot…,” he tried, but the authority was gone.
“You can stay and watch,” Jax offered, his thrusts becoming savage. “Or you can go. But close the door. Your daughter’s about to come so hard she forgets her own name.”