“Colton, Cain,” I said slowly, “I’m ready to move forward.”
Both my steps remained motionless although a shockwave of electricity ran through the air. I could feel the tremors in the air, sparks already running down my arms to sizzle in my fingertips.
“What does that mean?” asked Colt slowly. He gave me a searching glance. “Does that mean you’re talking to us again? Or are we still communicating through email?”
I flushed.
“I know it wasn’t easy for you either,” I said, taking a deep breath. “Beating Jimmy wasn’t your top choice, but with so much on the line, it was necessary. He wasn’t going to turn any other way and for someone like that, I’m not sure there was any other way,” I said slowly.
“But Karlie,” said Cain, “What’s made you come around now? I mean, are you going to be bringing up Jimmy” and here he spat the name, “twenty years from now? Is this something we’re going to be hearing about forever?”
“Absolutely not,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m over and done with it because I needed to make peace with myself.”
Here, my brothers’ brows furrowed.
“What do you mean?” growled Cain. “You did nothing wrong.”
I shook my head, slow but determined.
“Brothers, I wasn’t okay with what happened because I wasn’t fair to you or myself.”
Colt shot me a puzzled look, so I went on.
“You accepted my dancing, no questions asked, so long as I wasn’t doing blue light specials. It’s not exactly something that every girl does,” I said, flushing, “and I took your acceptance for granted. It’s a part of me that I have to let out, to escape the confines of being everyday Karlie, photographer and good girl.”
“But I didn’t do the same for you,” I said slowly. “When you decided to teach Jimmy a lesson, I was judgmental. I didn’t accept that physical force is a part of who you are … both on the field and off. I struggled with it, applying my values, my mores, to you with a terrible result.”
“Once I realized what I’d done, I knew the problem was internal. I needed to let go of my inhibitions and accept you for who you were … and who you are,” I said with a great breath of air, getting my feelings off of my chest.
Unfortunately, my brothers weren’t letting me off so easy.
“But Karlie,” said Cain, “How do we know that you won’t be mentioning the name ‘Jimmy Long’” and here he spat the words again, “twenty years from now? Because you know that’s our timeline. We want you for keeps, and it can’t keep coming up.”
My heart leapt. They wanted me for twenty years or more? To keep? This was the first I’d heard of it and the air lodged in my throat, making it difficult to breathe. But they deserved an answer.
“I won’t keep bringing it up,” I promised. “I don’t know how I can convince you, but we have something together that’s difficult to find sometimes. Some people are never so lucky,” I stated gently.
“That’s right,” growled Colt. “We have love,” he added, his eyes boring into me. “It’s the real thing, Karlie, don’t take it for granted and don’t let it go.”
“Love,” I agreed with an incandescent smile, my emotions tumbling, my spirits joyous. A rush of happiness descended over me, lifting me so that I was almost flying on the tips of my toes. “And something else too, brothers … I’m pregnant.”
And that stopped them. The shock was palpable in the air, but it wasn’t entirely unexpected. We’d slept together for months, never once using protection, their seed mixing in me night after night. And I was nineteen now, at peak fertility. Was it really that surprising that I was pregnant with their child?
“Karlie,” said Colt. “If you have our baby …”
“You’ll be ours forever,” finished Cain.
I couldn’t answer, my smile my only reply, holding out my arms to the two big men.
And they descended on me then, their forms massive, hungry, like lions who hadn’t fed for a year. My steps were all over me, too hungry to hold back, touching my cunny, swiping left and right, drenching themselves in my juices.
“Karlie,” they rasped, their voices hoarse. “Don’t ever leave us again.”
“I won’t,” I promised, “Never.”
And they kissed me all over, tearing my clothes off in their haste, eager for the sweet release that only I could grant. As for me, I almost cried when I saw those donkey dongs again, the twin poles pulsing with unquenchable power, cum already dripping down to seed me once again, plow those fertile fields with the juice of life.
“Please,” I gasped as they bent me over. “Now, now, now.”
And the warriors answered. Colt pushed into me from behind, his dong literally lifting me up in the air, my cunny jolted up with the massive size, squeezing him, clenching with pleasure.
At the same time, Cain pushed into my mouth, that hot length so tasty, so needed, so delicious that I moaned my ecstasy, stretched tight both ways. I loved it all. I loved the double-stuff, realized I needed it, always, forever, it completed me, made me a whole woman.
With cries of release, the three of us orgasmed, man cream spilling everywhere as I juiced them, my mouth and cunny like motorized pumps, squeezing them of everything they had, taking DNA like it was ambrosia of the gods.
And that’s how we came to be where we are today. Maddy was born, both daddies in the hospital room when she gave her first cry, her thatch of black hair and blue eyes just like Colt and Cain.
Remarkably, things fell into place after that, almost like magic. We live together now, the three of us with our daughter, in off-campus housing, a small house with a garden. Maddy’s in university daycare as I speed through my degree. State’s got an awesome fine arts program and I’m thoroughly enjoying being a full-time student in addition to my duties as mom.
But best of all, everything worked out because our little family is going strong, despite everything that’s happened. The hubbub was horrendous at first when news of our relationship came to light. My brothers wouldn’t say much, their faces tight each night after practice, but I knew that coaches, trainers, recruiters, everyone was telling them how wrong it was, trying to convince them to ditch me by the wayside.
But Colt and Cain wouldn’t. And after a while, the hullaballoo died down, most people forgetting that we were steps to begin with. So we spend our days together now, an idyllic reverie of studying, practice, lovemaking, homework, classes and more lovemaking.
Plus, Colt and Cain have promised to sign with the same team, no matter how high the offers are, no matter how many zeroes are on the contracts. We’ll be together as they pursue pro football careers … and beyond.
“Karlie, always,” said Cain, his eyes direct, taking my hand in his. I still remember the roller-coaster feeling, the dizzying love I felt as my brothers spoke their commitment.
“Forever,” pledged Colt, taking my other hand. And he slid a giant diamond onto my finger, a sign of their emotions, their bodies, their everything.
So what can a girl do? I nodded happily as I smiled, thinking of everything that had gone down. There had been good and bad, but my feeling of contentment overrode the scary times, the turbulent waters. Because you know what? It was okay. I no longer danced at the Donkey, but life was so much more now. I had my steps … my very own Double Donkeys.
THE END
A SNEAK PEEK
SOLD AT THE AUCTION
By Cassandra Dee
CHAPTER ONE
Ellie
“Seriously El, you can’t wear that,” said my friend Rachel.
I looked back at her, a little miffed.
“Why not?” I asked plaintively. The jeans I had on were nice, a dark denim wash, and I’d paired them with a long-sleeve top, crushed velvet with a scoop-neck. “Looks okay to me.”
Rachel snorted.
“Seriously El, we’re in Vegas for the week. We’re going clubbing at a place that doesn’t even have a name, it’s so hot. You can’
t wear the stuff you usually do, now take it off,” she commanded.
I thought about refusing flat out, putting down my foot and digging in. But the thing is my friend is the one with the fashion sense, Rachel always looks amazing, knowing exactly how to do herself up for every occasion. In comparison, I was a little frumpy, dazed and confused most times, my brown hair unfashionably curly, my curves unfashionably round. So yes, I got invited to good parties because I was Rachel’s friend, but I didn’t look like any of them, skinny minnies all.
And frankly, it was amazing that Rachel and I are friends at all because we’re so different, she’s swan-like, thin and elegant, with a modeling portfolio, whereas I’m round and small, an A-student. So our interests are poles apart, not to mention our paths in life. But we’ve known one another since we were five, and have seen one another through thick and thin again and again. Take last year, for example, when Rachel’s parents got divorced. I was her confidante, her therapist, and her anchor when she was lost at sea, adrift on waves of sadness. And I know she’d do the same for me if our situations were reversed. So despite the fact that outwardly, it looks like we have nothing in common, in fact we have a bond that goes deep, far further than mere clothes or personalities would suggest.
And since my body changed, my friend’s fashion advice was even more important. Because gone was the old Ellie from two years ago, an underweight mouse shaped like a broomstick, and in her place was the body of a woman, like Venus de Milo incarnate. I have big boobs now, a huge ass that sways when I walk, and generous hips making it hard to fit any type of pants. In fact, it’d been a struggle getting into my jeans tonight, I’d had to hop up and down desperately a couple times before they squeezed on, and the button was threatening to pop off any second.
So I sighed again.
“I don’t have anything else,” I repeated plaintively, gesturing with open palms. “There’s nothing else, look at my suitcase, nothing, nada.” And flipping open the purple travel case to reveal the interior was uninspiring. There was nothing haute couture or racy, just a couple more colored tops and a pair of grey jeans to mix things up.
Rachel pulled a face.
“Really, you didn’t bring a dress? Something a little slinkier?” she asked, picking through the stuff in my bag.
I shook my head.
“Nope, you know I don’t wear dresses that often,” I reminded her. “I’m more of a tomboy.”
Rach pulled another face.
“Tomboy, schmomboy, El, you’ve got a body now that’s decidedly not tomboyish anymore,” she emphasized. “Come on, you’re gonna have to wear something of mine then.” And with that she began pawing through her things, flipping through the closet where she’d hung a million outfits, each one colorful and gaudy, some even with pom-poms and sequins.
“No, Rach, no,” I pleaded. Even if I wore something of my friend’s, we weren’t the same size, not even close. My blonde friend was your typical petite vixen, about five one and a size zero. Whereas now, I was up to a size fourteen, maybe. Possibly a sixteen, it depended on what I’d had for breakfast, or sometimes dinner the night before. There was no way I could squeeze into one of Rachel’s outfits, I’d rip it at the seams like a juicy tomato busting out.
But my friend couldn’t be deterred.
“How about this one?” she asked brightly, pulling a dress out of the closet.
I groaned. It was terrible, all psychedelic colors, oranges swirling with purples, great big globs of green here and there.
“No Rach,” I said firmly. “Absolutely not, I’m getting a headache just looking at it.”
She sniffed, her pert nose wrinkling.
“Just so you know El, this dress is by Missoni, they’re a famous Italian design house known for their zany patterns.”
I shook my head still.
“I’ve never heard of this designer, but no Rach, it’s like an acid trip,” I said, shaking my head. “I can’t.”
Rachel sighed dramatically, hanging it back up.
“How about this one then?” she asked.
I paused for a moment, stunned. The dress wasn’t even a dress, really. It was more like a band of cloth across the bust paired with a skirt, with the tiniest piece of material connecting the two vertically, enough to hide your belly button.
“What is that?” I asked, horrified.
“What you’ve never seen cut-outs before?” my friend scoffed like a grande dame. “This here is an Azzedine Alaia, I love his work,” she cooed. “So sultry, he knows a woman’s body so well.”
I shook my head again.
“Rach, that’s more like a swimsuit, I can’t go into a club wearing a swimsuit.”
And my friend laughed.
“It’s not a swimsuit, the material’s not waterproof,” she said airily. “Besides, look what I’m wearing,” she said slyly, untying her purple fur jacket. And I gasped because beneath the fur, the blonde had on something that looked like a violet handkerchief, a triangle bound around her breasts, dropping to a point that barely shielded her snatch. One flutter, and everything would be visible. I goggled, astounded.
“Will they let you in the club like that?” I stuttered.
“They better,” Rachel said cheerily. “Otherwise Miles will be soooo disappointed,” she cooed.
And I shook my head again. We’d been invited to this no-name disco by a bunch of guys we’d met at the hotel pool earlier this afternoon. Miles was the one Rachel had homed in on, an overly-tan muscular dude whose swim trunks left nothing to the imagination. I didn’t want to go out with them tonight, not really, but Rach was determined to see Miles again and I was just along for the ride, the best friend slash sidekick, always the voice of reason.
“Okay, this one then,” my friend said with finality. “Seriously El, lighten up, this would look fantastic on you.”
And I gasped again, but for a completely different reason. The dress she was holding in her hands was absolutely gorgeous. Size XS, yes, but still stunningly beautiful, a silky slip in gold that shimmered under the lights.
“Try it on, okay?” asked my friend, pushing it into my arms. “Come on, chop chop, we gotta go, it’ll look amazing.”
And with slow steps, I let myself into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me and gazing in the mirror. What was going on? I was boring Ellie Danes, nerd extraordinaire, who never wore things like this. I was more a jeans and a t-shirt girl, swapping out the t-shirt for a sweater when things got cold, or a velvet top when things got sexy. No way could I ever pull off a dress like this.
But never say never, and I was transfixed by the shimmering gold fabric, the material silky and glimmery in the light. Hesitantly, I pulled off my scoopneck, then squeezed out of my jeans, holding the tiny scrap of material in front of me. Did I dare put it on? Did I dare become someone other than plain old Ellie, always the wallflower? And with a sigh, I undid the zip and stepped into the shimmery fabric, sliding it up over my hips and breasts, pulling the spaghetti straps over my shoulders.
Looking in the mirror, I gasped at the sudden transformation. Oh my god, I was someone else now. Whereas before I was curvy, yes, but hidden and discreet, now everything was out in the limelight. The fabric hugged my girls just so, emphasizing their creamy fullness, the tops of my mounds revealed in the deep décolletage. And the dress skimmed my waist, showing off how narrow it was before clinging to my hips, the shimmer emphasizing every sway of my booty.
I giggled then, humping my butt up and down a bit just for fun, letting go in the privacy of the bathroom. It jiggled and jumped under the lights, the fabric sparkling and moving on my curves like liquid gold, casting a magical sheen around me, almost like a halo of sparkles surrounding my curvy form. I loved it, absolutely loved it, and opened the bathroom door.
“Oh my gawd, it’s puuurrr-fect!” squealed my friend, handing me a jacket. “Now put that on otherwise we’re going to be late meeting Miles.”
I shook my head again, draping the coat over my shoul
ders. It was as if a magic trick had ended, the dark material shrouding the gold, giving no hint of the dazzling splendor beneath. But Rachel was right. It was time to go, time to have a good time tonight.
“Come on,” sang my friend, slinging her purse over her shoulder. “I picked out shoes and a purse for you already, gotta roll!”
And with another sigh, I slipped my feet into the golden pumps Rachel had laid out, complete with a matching gold handbag. Oh my god, the heels were so high, I was going to have trouble balancing and sure enough, my first step was a little wobbly. Bracing myself against the wall, I took a deep breath.
But my friend was already halfway down the hall.
“Come on, last one in the elevator is a rotten egg!” she sang. And I had to laugh at that. We were still kids, even though it was our senior year in high school, even though we were in Vegas on our first unsupervised trip, without parents, siblings, or any type of chaperone. It was our last vacation before school applications started, the whole college race that was going to suck up every last minute of free time.
So this was my final opportunity to have fun, to let my hair down before the grind started, making me dutiful Ellie Danes once more. I straightened my shoulders and lifted my chin, forcing myself to walk confidently into the hall, hips swinging, sashaying like a princess.
“There you go,” nodded my friend approvingly, finger jamming the elevator button. “You’re a new you, Ellie, just for tonight. Remember.”
And I grinned as the elevator doors opened.
“Who’s the rotten egg now?” I asked, rushing into the lift.
Rachel just laughed.
“No seriously, Ellie. Just for tonight, you’re going to be a new you. Flirtatious, sassy, outgoing. You’re going to charm Miles’s friends and make them all fall in love with you. Every single one.”
And I giggled. I wasn’t into Miles’ friends, the guys by the pool today hadn’t been my type for lots of reasons, but Rachel was right. I wanted to dance, laugh, and live up a storm tonight. This was it. It was time for a new Ellie, a new me, because girls can have fun … and I didn’t want to miss out.
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