by Katie Ford
EPILOGUE - JANIE
One year later …
It wasn’t easy, not by a long shot. In fact, I’d say that labor and delivery were the easiest parts of the road Trent and I traveled, compared to the recriminations and judgment from our community.
“Holy fuck,” I heard as I walked through the grocery store, my stomach making me waddle awkwardly. “She’s pregnant by her adoptive brother, didn’t you hear?”
“Poor Vincent and Elaine,” was another common refrain. “They were such Good Samaritans, taking in that boy after his parents died. And now this is what happens? They didn’t deserve this, not one bit.”
So yeah, there was a lot of the “enemy under your own roof” type sentiment. But the thing is that Elaine and Vincent rolled with it. Sure, at first, they were horrified, but my parents are stronger than you think. On the outside, they look like a cuddly old couple, but within, they have backbones of steel.
“What?” whimpered my mom at Christmas dinner. “You’re pregnant? How? Who?”
My dad was even more clueless.
“I thought you were a virgin,” Vincent said in a puzzled voice, turning to look between Trent and me. “You’re telling me that you’re not?”
So as you can see, my parents were off on another planet. Specifically, they were in a dreamland where their little girl would stay little forever, untouched and unsullied. But that’s the thing. Real life isn’t like that, and little girls grow up to be women who stand on their own two feet. I just had to convince them to see the light.
“Mom, Dad, you know I’m nineteen,” was my slow voice, my hand firmly clasped within Trent’s. “And I’ve dated boys before.”
“Well yes,” wheezed Elaine, eyes bugging out of her head. “But that was just puppy love. Milkshakes at the diner and co-ed study halls. Nothing like this!”
I bit my lip because I wasn’t a virgin when I met Trent, although the sex had been pretty bad before he came along. But it just went to show how delusional my parents were. I needed to help them see that I was a woman now, and a soon-to-be mom, no less.
“Well no,” were my slow words. “It was more than just milkshakes and study halls even then,” I speak evenly. “But it doesn’t matter anymore because what matters is that Trent and I want to move in and raise this baby together. He or she was conceived in love, and we’re looking forward to becoming parents.”
Both Elaine and Vincent goggled at us, my dad almost tipping over in his chair.
“Parents?” he asked. “But you’re just kids yourself.”
This is when Trent stepped in.
“No sir,” he said. “I’m not. I’ve been raising myself for a lot longer than you realize, and I’m happy to tell you about that more at another time. But suffice to say, I’m old enough to take care of myself and your daughter, and we want to be a family. We want this baby to be born into a circle of love, and we’re hoping that you’ll welcome your grandchild with open arms as well.”
Vincent and Elaine were stumped, just staring at us over the table, the lavish Christmas feast forgotten. But as the news set in, Elaine nodded a bit.
“Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?” she asked in a small voice. “I’ve wanted a grandbaby for so long, and … it just happened before I was ready, that’s all,” she added tearfully.
I smiled wobbily at my mom because with those words, we knew that everything was going to be alright.
EPILOGUE – TRENT
“No, we don’t know if it’s a boy or girl yet,” Janie said softly. “but we’ll let you know as soon as we find out,” she promised.
And with that, my wife and her mother fell into one another’s arms with tears pouring down their faces.
“I’m so happy!” sniffled Elaine. “I mean, this was unexpected but if it’s what you want, baby, then we’ll support you.”
“It is what I want,” my girl managed through teary eyes. “Trent and I love each other, Mom, and we’re really looking forward to the baby’s arrival. So please, please, please support us on this journey. It won’t be perfect,” she said, turning to include Vincent in her entreaty, “but with you guys behind us, anything is possible.”
And what can I say? Elaine and Vincent love their daughter, and with a grandchild on the way, they fell behind her one hundred percent. So it was only a matter of days before Janie and I were at City Hall to say our vows before an officiant, making everything legal.
Plus, now that the baby’s born, things are even better. Because my daughter is the spitting image of my wife, with the same big brown eyes and winsome smile. I tickle little Jessie’s foot with one big finger, playing with her as she gurgles up at me from her crib.
“You’re so cute,” I coo. “Daddy wuvs you.”
A gentle laugh sounds out from over my shoulder.
“Trent Lewis,” Janie says in a scolding voice. “I never knew you were one to use baby talk.”
I pull my wife into my arms.
“Only with girls I love,” is my growl into that perfect seashell of an ear. “By the way, did I tell you sweetheart? Daddy wuvs you too.”
My gorgeous wife giggles then, her form curvy and voluptuous against my own. Because the woman’s put on some weight since pregnancy, and she looks fantastic. Those tits are huge, her thighs even heavier than before. But I love the extra handfuls, and as if on cue, my body grows hard so close to hers.
“Oh by the way,” my wife says, shooting me a sly look. “Did I mention? We’re learning some new things in anatomy class,” she grins coquettishly. “About muscles and such.”
I pull her close. My wife’s such a nerd but I love it. Ever since she transferred to State, we’ve been able to study together, and hell, but she tutors me and not the other way around.
“Oh really?” I mutter into her ear, not truly listening. “What did you learn?”
Janie flashes a naughty smile before turning around and bending over.
“This,” Janie coos, flipping her skirt up and revealing that big expanse of white. “Muscles in your ass are supposedly some of the strongest muscles in your body. So do you want to sample it Trent? Do you want to pull out the dildo and then push yourself in? Because I’ve been wearing it for a couple hours now, so I should be stretched out real good by now.”
Because fuck, Janie’s got a butt plug jammed into her behind. It’s fucking rancid, the pink plastic stuck tight in her brownie as her ass cheeks flex playfully. But my girl knows exactly what I want.
“They said we can’t do vaginal for six weeks after birth,” she coos playfully. “But we can do anal. So how about it big guy? Give it to me in my behind? It’s been so long and I’m soooo hungry,” she mewls helplessly, bending over even further and wiggling that big butt at me.
And how can I say no? Because I’m head over heels in love with Janie. The brunette’s my everything. She’s the force that rules my world, and with a pop, I pull out that plug from her anus, looking deep into that dark star.
“Fuck you’re beautiful,” I rasp, unable to tear my eyes away. My cock’s already seeping like a motherfucker that can’t wait to get inside. But I have to say one more thing.
“I love you,” is my heartfelt whisper before catching her mouth in a kiss. “I love you with all my heart, Janie Lewis.”
And she mewls then as a shiver runs through her cunt, the soft flesh glistening. But she knows what I’m saying and those soft brown eyes meet mine, enveloping my soul.
“I love you too, Trent Lewis. Always.”
And with that, the session’s on. Because things have only gotten better with time. Sure, we met as an adoptive brother and sister, originally living under the same roof. But it was never a big deal because we only lived together for a few months. We didn’t grow up together, and thus there’s no feeling that we’re siblings. Further, Janie and I aren’t biologically related either, so there’s nothing to mess things up there.
But even more important, Janie has helped me see what life has to offer. Before, I w
as a cocky AF high school football player who appeared to have the world at his fingertips. But on the inside, there were deep and dark secrets that destroyed my heart despite the golden boy exterior. But all that is over now. With the help of my girl, I’ve left it behind to start a family of my own … and happiness is the only thing in our future now.
THE END
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Seven Brothers of Sin
~A Reverse Harem Romance~
© 2017
By Cassandra Dee
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© 2017 Cassandra Dee
All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters are all productions of the author's imagination.
Please note that this work is intended only for adults over the age of 18 and all characters are represented as 18 or over.
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DEDICATION
To all the dirty girls who want their own harem.
This book’s for you!
ABOUT THIS BOOK
SEVEN BROTHERS OF SIN: A REVERSE HAREM ROMANCE
Why pick one when you can have seven?
I grew up next to the Morgans.
All boys, and we played doctor sometimes.
But now it’s ten years later.
I’m back from college.
And the Morgans … well, they make me shiver, everything going hot.
Because the men are gorgeous.
Matt on Monday.
Tim on Tuesday.
Will on Wednesday.
Trent on Thursday.
Ford on Friday.
Sam on Saturday.
And Smith … oh god, Smith’s perfect for Sundays.
Because Sunday’s meant for penance.
Doing right and thinking good thoughts.
Going to church and acting godly.
But I can’t be good.
I can’t possibly choose, they’re too gorgeous.
So I don’t.
Is that wrong?
Or is seven my lucky number?
CHAPTER ONE
Macy
Nothing like the “freshman fifteen” to take a girl down a peg.
Or maybe the freshman twenty.
Or even thirty.
Because I haven’t put a swimsuit on all year and damn, this is tight. When I bought this bikini, it was for an epic post-graduation trip with my girlfriends. We took tons of selfies, giggling and splashing one another, and then the suit went in my drawer and I headed off to my freshman year of college.
But holy curves, Batman! Because since then, I’ve got a little more in the midsection, a little more on the thighs, and a lot more on top. My tits and ass are ready to wage war on these tiny bits of red fabric.
But I can’t just sit up here all day. My parents are throwing a big pool party to celebrate my homecoming. Who will come to such a party, one might ask? Well, that remains to be seen but I’d be willing to guess several middle-aged neighbors and maybe a few old people. People who definitely wouldn’t appreciate a nip slip Janet Jackson-style.
Taking a deep breath, I assess the situation in the full-length for a moment longer. The hair is good, at least. A quick fluff and my long, thick brunette locks fall sexily down my near-naked back. The eyes are good, too, I suppose – big and brown against creamy skin and full, pink lips. Grimacing, I stick a tongue out at my reflection in the mirror. Why is my skin so pale and pasty? It’s probably the library doing that to me, hours spent in my carrel hitting the books.
But there’s nothing to be done about that now. No amount of self-tanner will make me a goddess from Baywatch, so might as well own it. Sticking my tongue out one last time, I pad down the stairs, taking a deep breath. Oh no! My breasts bounce like two balls on a playground, jiggling up and down joyfully. God only knows what my ass is doing back there. Probably wobbling like a bowl full of fraternity-spiked Jello.
But the minute I walk into the kitchen my mom has me in a bear hug.
“There you are!” Marsha coos, dancing side to side, not letting go. “We missed you!”
“Um, you just saw me at breakfast,” comes my mumble.
Mom lets go and puts a finger on my nose.
“Boop!” she chirps, doing this dumb thing she’s done ever since I was a little kid. “You can’t blame me for being excited. You’re my only daughter! I was so lonely without you all year.”
I stand stiffly. This is just a show by Marsha. She loves making like she’s an adoring mother, but really, the situation’s a lot more complicated. But this isn’t the time to fight. A quick peek down confirms that half of my breast is pushing its way out of my bathing suit top after all that hugging. I subtly try to squeeze everything back in and say, “I need a new swim suit, Mom. This one is too tight.”
Marsha frowns for a moment.
“Maybe a little,” she acknowledges, “But it’s because you’re a big girl. Big girls have big assets, and it just means that they’re feeding you well at school,” she announces.
My face goes red. Trust Mom to proclaim to the world that I’m a size extra large. But oh well, there’s nothing to be done about it. Marsha will always be Marsha, and no matter how often I tell her not to do something, she’ll always do what she wants.
So I sigh. And just for show, she swoops me into another hug, announcing again how happy she is that I’m home. When I offer to help with food, she clucks, shaking her head.
“You go on outside,” she says, shooing me towards the backyard. “Besides, I expect the Morgans to arrive anytime now. You remember the Morgans, honey? They have seven sons. Seven boys! If I were Maddy Morgan, I’d probably be in a mental facility by now, run ragged with no space to breathe. But Maddy is fantastic, so calm all the time.”
I nod. I do, in fact, remember the Morgans. Somewhat. Vaguely. We never interacted because the boys were so much older than me. But it was always a joke around the house because what family has seven sons? The level of testosterone over there must have been enough to kill an elephant.
Unfortunately, I don’t remember much more than a couple lanky teenage boys zooming around the neighborhood on skateboards. So I shrug nonchalantly.
“Sure,” is my comment. “Let me know when they arrive.”
And fortunately, my bikini manages to stay put as I arrange myself on a lounge chair, stretching out in the sun. Maybe I can just greet people from here, like a queen. I’ll say I have an ankle injury. It’s for the better because if I move, there’s definitely going to be an accident. This is all for the public interest, I tell myself, lying back, sunglasses on top of my head.
But then I hear my mom’s voice again.
“Hello there!” Marsha squeals, throwing her arms around a tall, fit blonde. Even though they’re about the same age, the two women look completely different. My mom is short and pudgy. She hides it well behind professional clothes, but there’s no doubt that Marsha’s wider than she is tall.
By contrast, this woman is long and lean with toned arms and legs, perky breasts, and a great tan. She’s got a short, blonde bob and wears designer sunglasses and a bright blue beach cover-up. She could be a tennis instructor at a fancy country club, or a professional golf player.
“Macy,” my mom calls, gesturing to me. “Come and meet
Mrs. Morgan. You remember Mrs. Morgan from next door?”
Slowly, I get up and make my way over. Up close, the blonde is even more tanned and athletic, bursting with health. This is Mrs. Morgan? How in the world does she have seven kids? There’s no hint of pooch on her belly, her abs tight and firm. Damn, I’m always fighting my gut, and I haven’t even been pregnant once.
But Mrs. Morgan smiles widely.
“Hi there Macy,” she says. “Long time no see.”
“Hi,” I say, head down, holding out my hand. “Nice to see you again.”
I figure we’ll shake, but instead Mrs. Morgan takes my hand and pulls me in for a hug. Then she holds me away, her hands on my shoulders, giving me the once over.
“Look at you,” she burbles. “Looking healthy after your first year away.”
What? How come these middle aged ladies get to say whatever they want about my appearance? First my mom, and now this?
“I, um,” I start to say, glancing down and flushing.
“Don’t worry, dear,” she interrupts. “The boys like a little meat on a woman’s bones. You’re just gorgeous. I’ll probably have to cage my boys to keep them from bothering you all summer.”
She’s always been kind, but it doesn’t make me feel better as I consider that she’s probably double my age, but half my weight. God.
