His Filthy Game

by Cassandra Dee

  And sure, Pax and I indulge occasionally, but it’s nothing because we have our sights set on something greater ... a Championship. All this is pure distraction until that ring is on our finger.

  In the meantime though, we needed to reconnect with our stepsister after that disastrous video, so we’d called our agent to set it up.

  “What’s this for?” Jim said, oozing sleaze. “You want to do an exclusive with Stacey Light? Or is this about that video, play off her notoriety?” he cackled.

  Trust Jim to be a douchebag, to use someone else’s misfortune to his advantage. But Pax and I ignored his remarks.

  “Naw, just some chitchat in private,” my bro grunted.

  “Oh really?” asked Jim. Now his curiosity was really piqued. “And what about? Her boobs, her ass, her humping skills? That girl was good on camera,” he snickered again, “she should look into getting into porn.”

  Now he’d crossed the line and I literally growled, my hackles raised, eyeing him like a fucking pig that I’d happily tear apart with my bare hands.

  But Pax stepped in, his face cool.

  “Naw Jim,” he drawled. “We just want to talk about a potential collaboration, professional of course.”

  Jim’s eyebrows shot up, but he nodded.

  “Then I should be there too,” he snapped. “I’m your agent after all.”

  “No Jim-boy,” I growled. “Not necessary,” I said, my brows lowered.

  Our agent was just about to open his mouth again and say something stupid, but when he caught a glimpse of my fists opening and closing, his mouth snapped shut audibly, teeth clacking together.

  “Sure, I’ll reach out to her agent,” he sneered. “I think it’s Carolyn over at Wilkes and George, I’ll see if she’s available.”

  I sat back, finally appeased, my muscles relaxing, shooting glares still.

  “Thanks,” said Pax smoothly. “Schedule it asap.”

  And so here we were now in the Four Seasons lounge, waiting for our girl to show up. The room was deserted except for us, a plate of fancy little cookies and tea on the coffee table, curtain swags perfectly hung, soothing music piped in through invisible speakers.

  “Where is she?” I ground out, looking at my watch. “It’s ten past.” My eyes were fixed on the double doors, I was so hungry to see her again, to see that curvy figure sway in our direction.

  My bro was just as desperate, but masking it better.

  “Give her some time,” he remarked casually. “Her agent confirmed the meeting, she’ll be here.”

  But the clock ticked to fifteen, twenty, and finally the minute hand hit thirty. What the fuck? Was our girl standing us up?

  I was shit-ton angry and disappointed, already whipping out my phone to give Jim the third degree when finally the door creaked open.

  Finally. Finally, Ana was here after five years of absence, five long years of wondering how she was, following her career from a distance, discreetly asking our parents for updates on our long lost girl.

  And she was just as gorgeous as before. More so because Ana had put on weight, no longer a skinny adolescent, gawky and gangly. Now voluptuous was the name of the game, a triple threat with boobs, hips and ass, everything perfectly proportioned, perfectly placed, defying gravity.

  But there were circles under her eyes and her hair was limp, the energy sapped out of those blonde strands so that they looked washed-out, grayish even.

  “Hello Pax, hello Peyton,” she intoned dully, her eyes meeting ours across the room. And despite the monotone, prickles began running up and down my spine, my male instinct called to arms. Because the girl’s voice was exactly like it sounded on TV. Low, sensuous, melodious, a medium alto uncommon for a woman, still able to make me shoot on an instant’s notice.

  “Hey,” I growled, my eyes devouring her.

  “Hello,” ground out Pax, his eyes boring into her, eating her up.

  The girl wandered over to a settee, hips swaying before dropping gracefully into the chair, crossing her legs modestly. How amazing it was to finally be in the same room with her, her aura surrounding us, that feminine presence magnetic and irresistible.

  “What can I do for you?” she asked quietly, looking down at her hands.

  I’d expected this. All business, no small talk necessary, no need to re-hash the past, that was all done and might as well leave it there.

  But I couldn’t just pretend like nothing had happened.

  “Sister,” I said, my voice choppy around the edges. “About graduation, that night in the woods, I wanted to say …”

  But she cut me off with a sharp movement of her hand.

  “No need to apologize,” she said, her voice detached, looking around the room with a blank stare. “I’ve forgotten it already. What are we here for, really?” she asked, meeting my eyes directly.

  I sputtered. Years upon years of having women fawn over us had made me arrogant, I admit, and I wasn’t used to having women taking control, cutting me off when they felt like it.

  “How do you know we were going to apologize?” I growled, my hands curling into fists. Of course we’d been about to but still, I wasn’t used to having someone else behind the steering wheel.

  But this was the new Stacey. She fixed me with an icy stare and said, “You weren’t?” much too politely, her voice low.

  And suddenly, I knew we’d met our equal. Our sister was now a mature woman, someone with a big-time career, someone who was intelligent, thinking, a woman with a soul, a brain, not to be toyed with lightly.

  “Ana,” interrupted my brother smoothly. “Of course we don’t have to talk about the past. We’re not here to re-hash stuff, we’re here to live in the present.”

  That drew a swift look from the girl, her eyes appraising.

  “I guess you must be referring to the video,” she said woodenly. “My so-called sex tape.”

  “Yes,” he replied, saying no more.

  “And why?” she spat, suddenly angry, eyes flashing with light. “Why would you care now, of all times? Why? I haven’t talked to you in years.”

  That was a good question.

  “Stacey,” I said slowly. “Back then, we were idiots. I know you don’t want to get into the past, but you have to believe us when we say we care about you.”

  She grew quiet suddenly.

  “Sure you care,” she said woodenly, looking away. “I can tell.”

  “No you have to listen to us,” I said insistently. “We care. We really care, and we fucked up and there’s nothing we wouldn’t do to change what happened. You see …”

  She cut me off again.

  “No need for explanations Peyton,” she said quietly. “I get it.”

  “No, you don’t get it,” I said forcefully, ready to leap out of my chair and grab her shoulders, give her a good shake. “We were cowards back then, we shouldn’t have done what we did, I’d give anything to do it all over.”

  This time, I got her attention.

  “Then why?” she asked swiftly, turning to fix us with her big blue eyes. “Why did you leave me there to clean myself up? Especially after,” and here, her voice broke a little, “you’d just taken my virginity?”

  I hung my head, my big shoulders sagging, the ultimate gesture of shame from an alpha male.

  “We’d sworn never to take a virgin,” answered Pax, “so it was a surprise.”

  “What, you didn’t think an eighteen year-old girl would be a virgin?” she cried. “What version of Earth are you living on? That was high school, I don’t care how many sluts you banged, I wasn’t one,” she said emphatically.

  “Of course not,” my brother soothed. “It’s just that … well, after you were able to fit us both in your mouth, we didn’t think there was any way you were untouched down below,” he said. “Not many girls can do what you did. Practice makes perfect, you know?”

  “Well, how do you know I hadn’t practiced with cucumbers?” she shot back hotly. “Or dildos, now that everyone’
s seen my video?” she cried, her eyes filling with tears.

  That made us nod, our expressions somber.

  “That’s it exactly,” I said gently. “We were idiots, never judge a book by its cover. We had you, and when we realized that you were new, that we’d just popped your cherry, we panicked and ran off.”

  “And is that how grown men behave?” she spat, still angry, her beautiful eyes flashing. “Is that how you treat women?”

  My brother and I shared a glance.

  “Believe it or not Stacey, we haven’t been with many women since,” I said slowly. Because it was true. Ever since our encounter in the woods, something was lacking whenever we were with other women, leaving me cold, oddly numb. Although we haven’t been celibate, we haven’t been up to our old ways either, male sluts banging girls left and right.

  But I could tell Stacey didn’t believe us, and I didn’t blame her – pro athletes aren’t exactly known for restraint in bed.

  “Listen,” I said soothingly. “You don’t have to believe us now, it’ll take time, sure. But we wanted to meet up with you because of this so-called sex tape,” I said, my voice deepening, growing harsh. It hurt to see the pained expression on her face. “We want to help.”

  “Oh really?” she asked, her eyes disbelieving still. “And how are you going to do that?”

  “We’re not sure yet,” said Pax, “but we’re together again, you don’t have to go it alone,” he said emphatically.

  And there was a loaded silence as those words sank in. Because that was our original betrayal. We’d forced Stacey to take on the world by herself when she’d been an innocent teen, so why would she trust us now? Sure, we were promising to stand at her side through thick and thin, to make sure she was part of a team, with a support system of the highest quality, but there was no reason to believe us. We’d already let her down before.

  “Okay, thanks,” she said simply, avoiding our eyes. It was obvious that her heart wasn’t in it. But first things first. We needed time to build her confidence, pep her up and regain her trust.

  “Listen Stacey,” I said, my voice confident, determined. “We can handle this, okay? We have the best attorneys on retainer, the best agent, the best PR pros, the best everything. Trust us, money talks in this town.”

  “Okay thanks,” Stacey said tiredly, not meeting our eyes again. “Put your people in contact with my people, okay? Let’s marshal the troops.”

  But it was more than that. Pax and I were determined to rehabilitate her reputation, put her firmly back on the path to career success, bolster her confidence and her sex drive … personally.

  “Girlie,” I said softly. “Can I get a kiss for my efforts?”

  Her chin snapped around to look at me, her eyes flashing.

  “No,” she stated flatly. “Absolutely not. I can’t believe you even asked.”

  But we were already doing more than asking, we were slowly, seductively, making inroads. I could see Pax’s hand on her knee and I got up and sat next to her on the settee, the chair buckling a little under my massive frame.

  “Trust me, it’ll make you feel so much better,” I rumbled.

  And with that I swooped in for the kill. My lips touched hers softly, just a butterfly kiss, my big hand firmly holding her chin in place, my other hand cradling her skull.

  At first she resisted even that, struggling backwards, trying to get free, and then she changed tactics, playing dead, her lips unmoving, still, ignoring my caresses.

  But it’s hard to turn away from two determined alpha males.

  “Kiss me back,” I murmured against that plush pink mouth, tracing the edges with my tongue. “Kiss me.”

  And after a long moment, finally the girl sighed, exhaling, as if letting go, a burden slipping from her shoulders.

  “Give it to me,” I encouraged, murmuring into her mouth. “Let go and let us carry it for you,” I said.

  And slowly, a load lifted from the little girl, our presence relieving some of the strain, helping her through these terrible times. She leaned into my kiss, tentative at first, the tip of her pink tongue reaching out hesitantly, meeting mine, lightly licking me, testing the waters.

  And with a groan, I took her fully in my arms, scooping up that voluptuous form, pressing it against my hardness, letting her feel the masculinity, the animal energy ripping through my frame.

  “Peyton,” she gasped. “Pax,” she sighed.

  Because my brother was behind her, his donkey nudging that sweet little butt and she had thirty inches pressed up against her from both sides, demanding entry, hungry for female attention, needing the release that only she could give.

  “People could come in,” she breathed, trying to push us away, her movements futile, she was no match for two walls of muscle.

  “No one will, princess,” rumbled my brother from in back as he massaged her shoulders, those big hands squeezing soft flesh, angling his hips so that his groin rocked against her, that iron rod making her gasp with shock again. “We rented out the lounge for the afternoon.”

  And she turned to look at him in astonishment.

  “You did?” she gasped.

  “We did,” he confirmed, dropping a kiss onto her shoulder. “We didn’t think you’d meet us in a hotel room,” he ground out, eyes flashing.

  And instead of being shocked or dismayed, the girl smiled slyly at us.

  “Oh really?” she purred throatily, rubbing against us like a kitten in heat. “Hmmmm….”

  And the session turned on full-force, the heat level rocketing to a hundred degrees and beyond. She was like a wildcat between us, dragging us to the ground, all the better because the lounge’s dainty furniture wasn’t going to hold up under the hard pounding we wanted. Five years of emptiness made for two men stretched thin, and we needed to relieve ourselves in that beautiful body stet.

  With ravenous kisses, we descended on that luscious flesh, ripping off her jeans and t-shirt, those long, slim legs revealed, the creamy thighs and arched, dainty feet. Like a madman, I dived into her muff, questing between those slick folds with my tongue, running up against her clit, alternately licking and sucking the sensitive nub, drinking her nectar like a dying man.

  “Ohhhh,” she moaned breathily, squirming on the floor, her nude form spread before us like a feast. “Yessss,” she hissed, her eyes closed.

  And I redoubled my efforts, pulling her thighs apart, flicking open those folds to stare deeply into her deep pink. It was gorgeous, pulsing hotly, the slick walls moist, running already with desire. I had to taste again and bent my head, probing with my tongue, pushing deep into her channel, eating her, devouring that soft, succulent flesh, her aroma rising around us, the sweet scent heady and mesmerizing.

  And my brother was busy on her other end as well. He tweaked her nipples, pulling hard at the tips, squeezing and kneading her nips before bending his head to suckle hard.

  “Aieee!” she squealed, both ends going from zero to sixty. “Aieee!”

  But we wanted more, much more. We needed to bury our dicks in that body and couldn’t afford hours-long foreplay after years of waiting. With a swift movement, I rolled her so that she was on her side, my face still buried in her twat, drinking the sweet nectar.

  Meanwhile, my bro unsnapped his pants and his donkey dong sprang out, fifteen inches, the tip already leaking cum, dripping to form a wet pool on the carpet.

  “Kiss it,” he ground out, kneeling over her head, brandishing his rod.

  And the girl didn’t resist. His cock bounced off her cheek and like a hungry baby, she was sucking it, those little lips stretching to engulf his head, the saliva running from the corners of her mouth as she struggled.

  “Mmmph!” she cried, her eyes wide, cheeks bulging. “Mmmph!”

  But my brother was impatient. He cradled the back of her head in a big palm and jerked his hips forward suddenly, thrusting that pole into her mouth, the little girl choking as he jammed the snake down her esophagus.

  �
��Mmmph!” Stacey cried out again, tears pooling in her eyes from the effort of the strain, her blonde hair spread beneath us like a flowing mass of gold. I felt a gush between her legs, which only meant one thing.

  “Fuck her mouth hard,” I commanded. “Pussy tastes sweeter that way.”

  And Pax grunted his acknowledgment, thrusting hard into her throat again, more inches disappearing between those pink lips, stretched to the max so they were like rubber bands, made for pleasuring men.

  But I wanted her to have her own fun, and with sly fingers, I tickled up her thigh and stroked that puss a bit, burying my fingers in her wet folds, testing the juicy hole where dick would go.

  “You like, little girl?” I asked slyly.

  Stacey’s eyes flicked down to look at me for a moment, her only reply before a guttural moan escaped from around my bro’s dick.

  “Oh yeah,” I chuckled, “you’re going to get more.”

  With that, I trailed my fingers slowly down from her puss to her butt, letting my digits probe that back hole, a tight, musty smell rising between us, the hot, dry space the ultimate temptation. I stroked it, my big fingers massaging those tight pleats, a groan rumbling in my throat as the girl’s hips twisted and turned, thrashing at the unexpected sensation.

  “Oh yeah,” I said appreciatively, my voice muffled against her twat still, “oh yeah.”

  Because she was going to take donkey up her ass, get that beautiful rectum invaded by a fifteen incher, no mercy. It’d been too long and I needed every orifice at my disposal.

  Getting in back of her, I pressed my dong against her anus, lightly testing, pressing slightly, rubbing my wet glans against the pucker, feeling her body stiffen with shock suddenly, her eyes turning to look at me with astonishment.

  But it didn’t matter. I loved assplay and this was my opportunity – with the girl we loved. With ever increasing pressure, I nudged my dick up her backside, the little hole resisting at first, Stacey letting out little squeals of aroused discomfort, her pussy gushing into my hand as I fucked into that backside. It was tough, I admit. She was an anal virgin and taking a massive dong up there as your first is no easy feat.

  But she could do it, or more accurately, she was going to do it whether she wanted to or not. Increasing the pressure again, I thrust my hips upwards with a jerk and with an audible pop, her sphincter gave in. Immediately, I slid in a couple inches, my veiny length in an iron grip on all sides, the dryness arousing, the friction incredible.