This again? I remembered how five years ago they’d soothed me, telling me that I was cute, that pretty girls got away with everything. Were they remembering that incident as well?
I shook my head, hopelessly confused. “Brothers,” I said. “I appreciate your generosity, you didn’t have to pay for a private hospital room,” I began, holding up my hands when they started to protest. “But I have to ask … is this all a part your reality TV empire? Was the showdown with Troy scripted?” I said. I felt so awful even asking.
The twins exchanged glances.
“Well yes, we’re on TV a lot,” said Croy. “But no, there were no cameras at the reunion,” said Croy, “and we definitely didn’t script that fight. Good thing because we may be facing legal action, seeing how beat up Troy was.”
“But the cameras take some getting used to,” continued Croy. “But you’ll get used to it,” he said confidently.
“What does ‘getting used to it’ mean?” I asked. There were so many connotations, both good and bad.
“Well, we’re in the public eye all the time, and it’s distracting, I admit, to always have the camera guy, the boom, a crew of dudes following you. But you do get used to it, it just takes some practice,” murmured Christian. “Like this.” And before I could speak, he bent his head for a gentle kiss.
It felt so good that I started kissing him back, my lips falling open under his, yielding, soft and sweet before I came to my senses.
“Wha ... stop, stop!” I shrieked softly, pushing against his massive shoulders.
“Why?” said Chris. “We’re not really related.”
“Yeah, but still,” I hemmed and hawed. “We’re stepsiblings, and ….” My voice trailed off.
“What?” asked Croyden patiently. “We haven’t seen you for five years, so we’re practically strangers. What’s so wrong with slipping a kiss to a beautiful stranger?”
Hmmm. It’s true I hadn’t spoken to them for years now. But I was unnerved and tried to distract them. “But what does this have to do with the cameras?” I asked.
“You’ll see,” said Croy with a sly grin, bending his head to kiss me again.
This time, I didn’t try to fight it. The kiss was breathtaking, Croy’s tongue slipping in, deepening our contact. I gasped into his mouth, my chin tilting sweetly and my arms circling behind his neck to pull him closer.
“That’s a good girl,” said Christian from the other side. His hands, which had been gently stroking my hair, began wandering over my body, taking liberties with my curves, weighing my breasts, stroking the S of my waist before trailing gently over my hips. I arched under his touch, my body sensitized and coming alive with a million flares, a sweet liquid gushing between my legs.
“Mmm, I think I know what’s happening,” murmured Christian as the unmistakable scent of female arousal filled the air. His hands became bolder, tweaking my nipples, pulling and tugging at the sensitive tips as he pulled my hospital gown away, a cool waft of air causing my nipples to stand alert.
That brought me to my senses.
“Wait! Stop!” I cried, scrabbling to pull the gown over me. My brothers shared an amused glance and pulled off for a moment, pausing.
“It’s not that I’m shy … exactly,” I said. “It’s that … I’m a virgin,” I finished in a whisper, barely audible.
Thankfully my brothers didn’t express shock that I was a twenty-three year old spinster. Instead, they stroked me reassuringly, caressing my warm curves, and Christian said, “Baby, we don’t have to have sex now, maybe we’ll just do something a little less … intense,” he murmured.
A little less intense? What did that mean?
As if reading my mind, Croy answered, “It just means some fingers here and there, some licking and loving, you’ll enjoy it, I promise,” he said darkly. “Plus, it’ll help you get used to the cameras.”
Again, cameras. But this time, I was too far gone to reply. Croy had pulled my hospital gown off, and I lay before my brothers nude, exposed, my breasts heaving, my little vulva winking and pink, virginal yet wet in its desire.
Both men stopped for a moment, gazing at my body, drinking their fill.
“Fuck you’re beautiful,” breathed Christian.
“Awww fuck,” was all Croy managed before he dove between my legs. He licked my cunny like it was the last cunny on earth, pulling my folds apart to gaze at my deep pink insides before lightly touching his tongue to my little hole. Then he licked my nub, slowly rolling his tongue over my clit before stirring around that sensitive flesh, making me scream and cry with desire.
“Croy!” I gasped, my breath short and choppy.
Meanwhile, Christian had set himself on my breasts, pulling one nipple into his mouth, and then the other. He dragged his tongue between the two peaks, before pulling my boobs together so that he could suck on both nipples at once.
He pulled off, weighing and fondling my tits, placing one of my hands on my left breast.
“Suck it,” he commanded.
What? He wanted me to suck my own tit? I looked at him with wide eyes and he nodded, confirming the order.
Slowly, ever so slowly, I lifted my breast to my mouth, at first licking the nipple and shivering at the tingle that went straight to my cunt. Fuck, this felt good. Why hadn’t I thought of it before?
I have massive Double D’s, so it was easy to pull my nipple into my mouth, my lips closing over that deep pink tip, nipping on my own breastflesh. Oh god, it felt so delicious too, the nip puffy and hard between my lips.
Suddenly, I noticed that Christian was taking a picture of me sucking my tit with his cell phone camera.
“What are you doing?” I screamed, bolting upright, my jug dropping out of my mouth. “How could you?”
“Sister, cameras take getting used to,” soothed Christian. “The more you have your picture taken, the more it becomes quote unquote ‘normal,’” he said. At that very moment, Croy pushed two fingers into my twat, causing me to squeal and scream with pleasure. I tried to answer Christian, tried to say something along the lines of “I’m a nurse, I don’t need to be on camera,” but all that came out was a long guttural, “Unnnnhhh.”
“She loves it,” groaned Croy, licking my clit as his fingers crept deeper into my channel. “Take a pic,” he commanded his brother.
And Christian whipped out his phone again, taking a pic of Croy’s fingers deep in my twat, fucking me, his digits glistening with my female juice.
This time, I didn’t even have the energy to say anything, it felt so fucking good. I moaned and thrashed as Croy ran his fingers in and out, shoving them into my tight pink folds, licking at my flesh as he fucked my pussy good.
Meanwhile, Christian had gone crazy. He was snapping away, capturing my naked body in ecstasy, my snatch creaming, my breasts jiggling as I was penetrated down below. Unconsciously, my hands reached up to stimulate my nipples, pulling and tugging at the sweet flesh, and he got that on film as well.
With a sudden scream, I came hard on Croy’s fingers, my vag clenching on his digits, pulsing and twitching with each delicious spasm. I’d never come so hard before, and my pussy squirted female juice, the ejaculate landing with a spray on Croy’s face.
He smiled as he lapped at it, Christian snapping away the entire time. Yeah, that’s right. There are pictures of my brother covered in my cunny milk, smiling as he licks his lips, tasting that female juice.
Finally as I calmed, Croy was pulled his fingers from my snatch with a sucking sound, licking them lasciviously.
“Mmm, she tastes good,” he murmured. “Go in for a suck,” he encouraged his brother.
And Christian did. He bent between my legs and tongued my slit a bit, eating my cream, letting it slide down his throat.
I was beyond shocked at what had happened. I’d been fingered and licked by my long-lost brothers, not to mention the serious breast play. Plus, they’d taken pictures of the whole encounter! Was the world going crazy or what?
; But as if sensing my unease, Christian bent to kiss me, showing me the pics on his iPhone.
“Look how beautiful you are, little sister,” he murmured, scrolling through the series. It was so obscene, but at the same time, my cunny tingled again, looking at the female ejaculation, the fingers in my twat, even the pic of me sucking on my nipple.
“You’re nothing like the girl you once were,” Croy agreed, appreciating the pics. Stroking one breast fondly, he said, “You’re everything we want … provided that you can get used to the cameras.”
A feeling of foreboding descended. Again, what did “getting used to the cameras” mean?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Lauren
I’m a little freaked out. For a week after the incident, I didn’t hear from my brothers. But I just got an email from them:
“Dear Sister,
Please come and visit us in New Jersey. We’ve purchased a house that could use your feminine touch,” it read. “Your feminine touch … and your feminine figure. While we were on location, we looked at the photos of you every night, entranced by your suppleness, your willingness, your amazing body.
Come to us now, and we’ll help you adapt to the celebrity life.
Yours forever,
Christian and Croy.”
It seemed my brothers had kept the photos private, as they’d promised, and had … jerked off to them each night? I don’t know, maybe passed the phone between them as they beat their dicks? The possibilities were disturbing, and I wasn’t sure how to react mentally.
But my body knew what it wanted. And so I’m packing my bags, off for a short vacation to Jersey. It’s just going to be for a few days, but I want to “adapt to celebrity life,” as they put it …
THE END
Continue to Part 3 next
CHAPTER TWELVE
Croy
Ah, Lauren. Our beloved little sister. She’d been such a geek growing up, but what a change five years can make. She’d gone from toothpick to alluring, sensitive female, all curvy woman flesh and a cunt that dripped wildly.
I can say this because I’ve smelled and tasted that cunny, and it’s the best I’ve ever had. Now before you judge, let me add that we’re not related, not really. Her mom and our dad married a couple years back, making us stepsiblings of a sort.
But our feelings towards her aren’t sibling-like at all. Christian is the more “decent” of the two of us. After we had that debauched session in her hospital room, he’d argued that we should leave her alone.
“She’s a fucking virgin, Croy,” he’d said. “She doesn’t need us messing up her life.”
“But look at her,” I said, scrolling through the pics on his phone. “Can you really say you can let this go?”
And as I showed him a particularly beautiful pic, the girl’s nipples glistening and wet from his saliva, I could feel him giving in.
“Seriously, we’ll be fucking up her life,” he rumbled as a last resort.
“Brother, it’s not like that. It’s opening her horizons to new possibilities,” I countered.
Because we’d been debating for a couple days whether to bring Lauren into our lives, and onto our show. Our fan base had been writing in for a while, begging for more info about us, hungry to learn more about our backgrounds, our family, our experiences growing up. Of course, we refused to include George and Teresa. Our dad and her mom had left their marriages to be with each other, two-timing their respective spouses, and my brother and I weren’t about to forgive that sin just yet.
So that left Lauren, who had certainly passed the looks-test. I admit, I’d been a little worried about that. She’d been gawky as a high-school teenager, thin and awkward, yet curiously attractive. But those fears were put to rest the moment we laid eyes on her at the reunion. Curvaceous, her assets fully displayed in a tight pink dress, she’d be perfect on camera, with a photogenic smile to boot.
“So how are we going to do this Croy?” asked my brother, resigned. “How are we going to acclimatize our little sister to the camera?”
“You know,” I replied. “I think the best way is to invite her to Litchfield for a test run. We’ll expose her to all sorts of situations, and see how she feels. By the end, she should be ready to go live,” I said with an evil grin.
Christian was silent for a moment. But I knew he wanted those high ratings as well.
“Okay, let’s see what she says,” he replied, and I knew I’d won.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Christian
I felt like a douche for giving into Croy. He’s such an asshole sometimes, such a manipulator, and it didn’t bode well for the future.
You see, our producers made clear that House Emergency, our TV show, needs a female influence, a feminine touch counterbalancing our masculine energy. And we’ve tried out hundreds of starlets, run a million test-shoots, trying to find someone with the right chemistry.
But it was just too random, you know? The girls always felt like an extra appendage, something that was taking up space, useless otherwise. So the producers brought up the idea of incorporating a family member.
Believe it or not, going with a real family member wasn’t our first choice. TV is so fake that we actually had a couple starlets do some acting, shoot some tests as our so-called “sister.” But that’s the downside of reality TV. It’s hard to pretend to be someone’s sister 24/7, damn near impossible.
And so Lauren was the only viable candidate left. We weren’t going to invite George and Teresa, and the list of long-lost cousins was again too random. So we’d gone to the reunion telling ourselves that so long as we were in the area, why not? But also half-hoping that Lauren would be beautiful and willing.
And she absolutely was. She’s made for TV, every expression reflected on her face, a gorgeous, dazzling smile when she’s happy, tears in her eyes when she’s sad. And when she’d bared her body in the hospital, we knew that she was perfect for the position. Let go of your inhibitions, just roll with the cameras is the key to being successful in reality TV.
But we can’t just throw her into the shark tank. We’ve got to introduce her to the celebrity lifestyle, so to say, and that means getting her used to the cameras, step by step. We already have Croy finger-fucking her in some heated photos, and a few more stints on film should loosen her up.
Despite my misgivings, I can’t wait until she gets here.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Lauren
As the limo pulled up to the house, my heart started to beat faster. I’d decided to come to Litchfield, a manor in the New Jersey suburbs. I wasn’t exactly sure what the set-up was. Were my brothers renting this place? Was it some kind of elaborate back-drop for one of their shoots?
Now before you think “Jersey Shore” or the “Real Housewives of New Jersey,” let me describe a different side of the Garden State, one that’s all exclusive mansions and high society folk. A lot of New Yorkers can’t stand the concrete jungle. So they migrate to New Jersey on occasion, which is genuinely beautiful with sprawling properties and luscious greenery. The house that we were pulling up to was a palace, complete with turrets and balconies, huge windows and elaborate gardens. I guess as the hosts of House Emergency, my brothers needed to have a home that befit their celebrity status.
The front door opened as we pulled up, and Croy and Christian came bounding out, their bodies enormous, imposing even in casual jeans and t-shirts. God, I’d forgotten how good they looked, smoldering under the bright light of day.
“Hey sis,” said Croy, as he opened my door.
I stepped out, thanking god I’d worn a pretty, flirtatious sundress. Judging from the looks my steps were giving me, they appreciated it too … a lot.
“Hi brothers,” I replied sweetly. “Thanks for inviting me to your place. I’m really excited for some much-needed R&R,” I smiled.
“Absolutely,” growled Christian. “We and the staff are at your beck and call.”
Wow, this place had a staff? It was eve
n fancier than I thought. But as they ushered me into the mansion, I came to a sudden stop at the camera mounted right inside the front door.
“What’s this for?” I said, frowning. There was a little red light flashing at the top.
“It’s a reminder,” said Croy. “It’s a reminder to ourselves and our guests that we live a life that’s taped. That way, we don’t have to put up a warning sign,” he chuckled.
“Wait a minute, are we being taped right now?” I asked suspiciously. “If not by this camera, then by others?” I began craning my neck, looking around to see if I could see any obvious machines.
“Sister, yes, we’re being taped,” said Christian. “It’s easier on us, and easier on the network, otherwise we’d have to spend a ton of time filming location shots, people coming in and out, etc. This way, we already have a lot of settings and don’t have to double-back,” he continued. “But obviously we’ve restricted the cameras to the public areas of the house. We wouldn’t have cameras in our guest rooms or bathrooms,” he reassured me. “Let us show you.”
And he led the way through some magnificent public rooms, beautifully decorated, custom built-ins, all that kind of stuff. I didn’t see any hidden cameras, although I suppose a camera can be smaller than a pinprick these days.
We went upstairs, and my brothers ushered me into a luxurious beige room, with a huge double bed and adjoining en suite.
“You’re not being filmed in here, I promise,” Christian smiled.
I wandered around, trailing my fingers over the mahogany furniture, letting myself breathe in the air of elegance. The room was literally bigger than my apartment in Manhattan, and the bathroom could have fit two of mine. There was an adjoining door in the wall, and I knocked on it, asking curiously, “Where does this go?”
“Ah,” smiled Christian. “You’ll see why we put you here. You, dear sister, are right next door to us.” And he opened the door with a flourish. There was a darkened passageway leading to very masculine quarters. An enormous bed dominated the space, circular with a brocade coverlet, two huge wardrobes and two bathrooms. Kinkily, a giant mirror was mounted on the ceiling and another on the wall, perfect for hedonistic play.
DOUBLE DONKEY: A Twin Stepbrother Sports Romance (with BONUS book Twin Stepbrother Celebrity) Page 13
