Double Exposure: A Dark MMF Bisexual Romance

by Cassandra Dee

  I gaped.

  “Jorge? The tennis pro? That’s her teacher,” I said, brow furrowing. “What was he doing with her? They wouldn’t be having a tennis lesson at night.”

  The cops merely nodded again, expressions smooth, giving nothing away.

  “Again, we’re still investigating Miss,” said one. “We’re just stating the facts, there are no conclusions yet.”

  But before I could reply, my mom let out an agonizing wail, ear-piercing and sharp.

  “Hannah! My baby girl, my precious baby girl!” she cried out, tears pouring down her face. “My first-born darling, oh god, oh god!”

  Both the policemen and I leapt to our feet immediately, helping my mom into her room and tucking her in bed, housecoat and slippers still on. Jane didn’t even notice what was happening, tears flowed down her face as her eyes stared blankly ahead, whimpers of “Hannah, Hannah!” coming out in a broken tone. I wanted to stay with her, I did, but I had something else on my mind. I had to tell Brian before these cops got to him, to try and figure out what the hell had happened.

  Because my sister had probably been having an affair. Although I’ve never met Jorge myself formally, there’d been a time or two when I’d picked up Hannah from the club, and she’d come prancing out, flouncing and all smiles, in an indecently short white tennis skirt. But that wasn’t it. There’d been a dark, handsome man with her, some dude who couldn’t have been more than twenty, with a doofus smile and a weird accent.

  “Take care, see you next week,” he winked at my sister, waving with a tanned hand.

  Hannah laughed that girly laugh, getting into the car before slamming the door shut and wiggling her fingers at him.

  “Bye now!” she cooed out the window. “Bye, see you next week.”

  And it wasn’t the words or the actions, although those were definitely suspicious. It was her smell. Hannah should have smelled sweaty, or at least just-showered if she’d had a tennis lesson. But instead there was the musk of something intimate, like a man had been rubbing himself all over her, his personal scent penetrating deep into that peaches-and-cream skin. There was the tang of something sensual, like pussy juice mixed with an indefinable scent, and I had to ask her about it, it was too pungent and obvious.

  “Hannah,” I said slowly, switching gears to roll out of the parking lot. “Who was that?”

  “My tennis instructor, who else?” she breezed carelessly, already scrolling on her phone.

  “Well, he’s very handsome,” I said judiciously.

  “Of course!” she exclaimed, looking up for a moment. “They often are, pros are often hired by the Club for their looks,” she continued with a wicked smile.

  I didn’t even know what to say next. Courtside hired their athletics department staff based on looks, and not skill? Holy shit, this was one fucked up country club. But Hannah was totally unconcerned.

  “I get the best two-hour lesson of my life,” she tossed out lightly, shifting a little in the front seat like the memory made her pussy burn. “I come out so relaxed, so happy, you should really try it sometime,” she said with a smirk. “It’d help you loosen up Ang, get that baseball bat out of your ass.”

  Again, I didn’t even know what to say. The insult was par for the course, it rolled off my back like water. But was my sister telling me, not so subtly, that Jorge was her man-whore? That instead of a two-hour tennis lesson with rackets and balls, they were doing the dirty instead? And was my brother-in-law paying for all this? Did Brian know? Did he even care? Because my sister sure wasn’t exactly subtle.

  But Hannah interrupted my thoughts.

  “It’s the way life is,” she said, shrugging carelessly. “If you don’t like Jorge, you can always take lessons with George, his manager,” she added wickedly. “George is old but you know, old guys handle their rackets better than anyone else.”

  And I decided right then never to ask her about it again. Because it sounded like my sister was banging all the club pros, not just Jorge. Maybe the Latin lover was her flavor of the month, her current go-to guy. But it seems like Hannah had been doing them all, taking the team because it was her thing, her personal hobby. I gaped involuntarily but then closed my mouth with a snap.

  “Um sure,” I muttered, pretending I was too caught up in traffic to really listen. “Sure, maybe.”

  But as usual, my sister was already tapping furiously at the keys of her phone, engrossed in something or other and I was relieved to move on. I didn’t want to know about her escapades, didn’t want to know about her dirty side that she didn’t even bother to hide. I just wanted one man, but unfortunately, that one man was her husband.

  So after the police left, my thoughts immediately flew to Brian. Oh my god, I had to talk with him, I had to make sure he was okay, that everything was okay. And as soon as the sun dawned, my sneakers were on, and I rushed to my car, ready to zoom to his place.

  But what could I say? Dumbfounded, I sat for a moment in the driver’s seat, still and unblinking. Oh by the way, Hannah was a ho, she was actually banging a raft of guys, don’t grieve over her death? My sister was pulling a train because that’s her thing? Oh, and since you’re available now, can I have a turn on your dick? Just slip it in real quick, pretty please?

  So I literally sat in my car for a couple hours, a trembling mess. How to approach Brian? Did he even want to talk? Maybe all he wanted was for me to make funeral arrangements, I was family after all. Or maybe he just wanted to be alone, and this was all futile. I’m nothing more than a teen girl, a blip on his radar, a nobody.

  But as the hours slipped by, my resolve deepened. On this catastrophic occasion, I had to see him, I had to be with him, even if he didn’t want me around. Maybe I’d just pop my head in and express my condolences for five minutes. It’d give me an opportunity to see him, and if that’s all the alpha male wanted, then it’s what I would take.

  So straightening my shoulders, I turned the ignition with determination, making my way to their gated community, my humble Accord puttering by dozens on manors before coming to a stop before the mansion. Oddly, there was a strange car parked out front, a blue sports car that I’d never seen before, but maybe it was a new acquisition. God knows, Brian had enough money, he was rich as Midas, working his fingers to the bone at that law practice.

  But as I walked up the circular rotunda, something odd struck me because the front door was slightly open. What the fuck? That was weird, but maybe the UPS guy had just come by to deliver a package and Brian was inside at the moment, putting it away. Maybe he’d forgotten to shut the door afterwards, in his grief. The story was lame and didn’t make sense, even to me, but there could be dozens of explanations.

  I tiptoed closer hesitantly, senses alert. But suddenly something made me stop, because there were sounds coming from inside the mansion. Noises that didn’t even sound human at first, raw and primal, making my body come alert, each plump curve shivering and trembling with arousal. I couldn’t step away, my feet were magnetized, I had to see what it was, to put my eyes on the source.

  And as I edged closer and closer to the door, the sounds got louder. Holy shit, there was banging and pounding even, the sound of heavy flesh slapping together, and the guttural noises became clear. They were moans, but not high-pitched whimpers and squeals of lust. They were the baritone, ravenous moans of two men, two lusty male animals going at it hard, penetrating deep, having the time of their lives.

  Unexpectedly, my body flared. I’m a virgin and the thought of two guys going at it sparked something deep within, pussy pulsing, the juices already beginning to course. Because I wanted in. Without even seeing who it was or what was going on, I wanted in. After all, it had to be Brian, I could make out the bass strains of his voice even if there were no words, I could recognize the tones from his chest from a mile away. I wanted him, in every way, shape and form, my body wasn’t going to say no to anything the alpha offered.

  So when I glimpsed the couple on the couch, oh yeah, my cur
ves rocketed to Jupiter, bursting with anticipation and yearning hunger. Because Brian and another man were fucking each other, and the sight was so hard, hot and heavy, the pounding so sensuous, that my mind went blank and I became a mere slave. Like a maiden shedding her cloak of innocence, the true whore came out and I was on my knees beside them in a flash, gulping Brian’s sperm, drinking it deep, slurping like the slut I am. It tasted amazing, hot jets coursing down my throat, making me even thirstier, boobs heaving, cunt dripping non-stop.

  And the second man read my mind. He’d lifted off Brian’s dick to let me get a taste, and after I finished milking my lover dry, the blonde man turned hot blue eyes to me.

  “Hey Angie,” he said, that rumble a low, sexy caress, like there was nothing weird about me being there. “You wanna some of mine too?”

  And just like that I was on him, slurping the cum off his fuckshaft, tasting the stranger’s DNA and loving it. It was musky, different and yet just as good, imbued with the scent of this man mixed with Brian. Because this had to be Jed, my brother-in-law’s law partner, his college buddy. I’d seen pictures of him, the golden hair and tanned skin, a six five Adonis, all rippling muscle and devil-may-care attitude. And now here he was nude, magnificent, leaning back with ecstasy as I cleaned him off, sucking his man parts, making them all my own. It was good, it was great, it was fantastic … and oh god, I only wanted more of them both.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Brian

  Holy shit, we’ve corrupted the angel. My innocent sister-in-law Angie has taken a temp job at my firm that goes way beyond secretarial work, way beyond filing papers or punching in numbers. The sweet teen is servicing me and Jed, sucking our shafts after hours, rotating between his dick and mine, drinking the cream of two men.

  “Mmm,” she moaned, nude on the floor before us. We’d just finished fucking and my ass dripped with Jed’s cum, trailing down my leg and onto the carpet. But Angie was on it. In a flash she was behind me, lapping at my anus, sipping the goodness. “Oh god yes,” she moaned, tongue questing hungrily, digging into my hole before licking a hot trail up my thigh, trying to get as much of Jed’s cum as she could. “I love man milk, it’s the best dessert.”

  And that’s a perfect example of what I mean by totally corrupted. Because she’s drinking semen from our assholes a lot of the time, Angie likes it the back way. Sure, the female gets it from the source too, we erupt in her mouth time and time again, the hot nutrients slipping down her hungry throat. But sipping from our anuses is also her thing, and it’s come as a total revelation.

  Because I thought Angie was an innocent teen. I thought no way was this eighteen year-old nymph gonna be into man on man, woman in the middle, woman with two guys, every permutation you can think of. The girl is young, curvy and sweet, and I figured she was still dreaming of rainbows and unicorns, reading romances where princes sweep princesses off their feet, riding off into the sunset.

  So it came as a surprise that I was totally wrong. Completely fucking off the reservation. Sure, Angie reads romance novels, but they’re hardly G-rated Babysitters Club books. Instead, it was more the babysitter was doing the football team, or the sweet student doing half the teachers at school. And when I found out she was into that stuff, suddenly it all made sense. Two guys? Hell no, that was tame. Angie was reading stuff where jailbait did all the prison guards just to get some extra rations, stuff that would make you jizz like a mofo, it’s so raunchy and fucking dirty.

  So it’s been eye-opening to say the least. Our little pussycat is a sensual one, there’s cream on her whiskers and a couple places else too. And yet there’s still so much unsaid, so much up in the air, and it was hard to get the girl to open up.

  “You sure, honey?” I asked, stroking her hair. At the moment, she was perched on my lap as Jed looked on, all of us nude in my office with the door locked. Shit, our interludes had given new meaning to “after hours overtime,” seeing how the little girl drank our cum again and again. And the brunette squirmed a little in reply.

  “I’m sure,” she nodded, taking a deep breath. “It’s because I’ve wanted you so long, Brian,” she admitted with a shy smile. “Since before you even married Hannah.”

  I frowned for a moment. Any mention of her sister puts me in a bad mood, even now that Hannah’s gone. That woman was a bitch, and I wouldn’t be surprised if the medical examiner found some unexplained fluids in her body, Hannah played so fast and loose. But I didn’t want to talk about it just now, not with Angie naked and willing in front of us.

  “Don’t start,” I rasped hoarsely. “That bitch was nothing.”

  But Angie stilled.

  “Please don’t talk about my sister that way,” she said in a small voice, looking down. “I know you guys weren’t getting along by the end, but she’s my sister.”

  I nodded, although my body was already becoming hard once more. Because the autopsy had found semen inside her holes, and clearly, it wasn’t mine. I hadn’t banged that bitch in ages, nor did I want to. But what was worse was that it hadn’t been one man’s jizz, there’d been a couple men doing her, which came as a shock to all.

  But it seems Angie had suspected.

  “You knew, didn’t you?” I asked roughly, forcing her to look at me as she perched in my lap. “You knew,” I said, more as a statement than a question.

  “Hold off, Brian,” drawled Jed from beside us. “Seriously, give the girl some space, you’re shaking her like a rag doll, let her breathe a little.”

  Trembling a little myself, I let go of Angie’s slim shoulders despite the fact that I was still breathing hard, my voice ragged. But I couldn’t let go.

  “Tell me,” I commanded.

  And slowly, the little girl nodded.

  “Yes, I suspected,” she confirmed in a small voice, glancing up at me. “There was nothing that I could say, nothing that really stood out, except that I know my sister,” she continued. “I know Hannah and something seemed off whenever I picked her up from the club.”

  My body grew rigid again. Had everyone known except me? I felt like the biggest fool, a fucking dunce, a laughingstock cuck. But at the same time, I didn’t care. Hannah was trash to me, and clearly, I’ve already moved on – with my law partner and my sister-in-law, as fucked up as that may seem.

  So yeah, we’ve been going at it non-stop ever since that fateful day. Angie drinks our cum like milk, the bubbly pouring in gallons down her throat, so thirsty and appreciative, moaning and sighing with breathy gasps. And meanwhile, Jed and I have some serious man-on-man action, my hole so pounded, his anus tight and dry, ready for a reaming at the drop of a hat. But the ultimate is still coming because after all this, Angie is still a virgin. Yeah, that pussy’s never been breached, and Jed and I can’t wait to get inside, possessing that sweet softness.

  “So honey,” my law partner drawled, caressing Angie’s arm as she looked between us. “Forget all that stuff about Hannah, the investigation’s out of our hands,” he shrugged. “But tell me more about you. Tell me how a beautiful teen like you is still a virgin.”

  The brunette colored prettily, curves going still, like a hovering butterfly.

  “Oh it’s nothing,” she murmured, looking down. “I just, I mean, I just …”

  Jed merely looked at her with a raised eyebrow, making her blush. Shit, that mofo can handle women, he can play women like puppets and Angie was lost to his charisma, adoring the blond giant.

  “Well,” she began again, looking down. “You know, I’m bigger than most girls and guys aren’t really into that.”

  Jed leaned back and shouted with laughter, pearly whites coming into view. Shit, mofo is a real golden boy with the penetrating blue eyes and bronzed skin. I grew hard looking at him, how he controls every situation, even though he wasn’t touching me or her at the moment.

  “So?” he asked after calming down. “Lots of big girls get action, look at you,” he said with a wicked smile.

  “I know,” Angie said almost in
a whisper, still looking down. “But the boys at school don’t seem to like it, they like skinny minnies who wear size zeros and I’m a size …” Her voice trailed off.

  “Size twenty?” I asked, running my hands up and down those lush curves, tracing that tiny waist before moving over her breasts. Shit, they’re huge Double Ds, spilling over my large palms, and I squeezed and massaged appreciatively, plucking at a nipple. “Size twenty-five?”

  The girl moaned lustily, head tilting back before squealing and sitting up. “Oh you!” she cried, batting at my hands playfully. “There’s no size twenty-five, women’s sizes are even numbers only. But yeah,” she admitted in a small voice. “I’m definitely in the double digits, I’m in the plus department, if you know what I mean.”

  Jed merely grinned wickedly again, his hand trailing up her thigh until it touched lightly at her puss. Angie was completely nude in my lap and I could feel the heat burning against my leg, that steaming, innocent flesh, so hot it was like a five-alarm fire.

  “You know we think you’re beautiful,” he rasped, blue eyes intent on Angie’s warm brown. “You know Brian and I think you have the body of a goddess.” And at that moment, his hand trailed over her pussy again, testing the warmth for himself, lightly massaging the bottom of her clit.

  “Ohhhhh!” she moaned sensuously, eyes drifting closed, leaning back onto my chest and giving herself over to the sensations. “I know, but most guys like a different body type,” she panted breathily. “So I’ve still got my virginity.”

  I snorted then, unable to keep my disbelief in.

  “Fuck baby girl,” I rasped. “I’ve been lusting after you since we met, could never keep my eyes off you.”

  She nodded, eyes wide, twisting a bit in my arms.

  “But that’s the thing,” the female added in a small voice. “Guys like you sleep with fat girls, but you always marry the skinny ones. Hannah was thin as a whip, and you made her your wife, not me.”

  I didn’t even know what to say then. Because Angie had been so young when we’d met, underage jailbait, so how could I possibly have married her? It was already skeezy for us to be doing the girl now, an eighteen year-old nymphet, so how the fuck could I have done anything two years ago? It was so twisted, the past and the present, but I had to try.