#BABYMACHINE: A Billionaire Bad Boy Romance
Page 41
But something was different this time. Maybe he and Virginia were smarter than we thought, more observant. Because putting a nubile, beautiful teen girl into the path of two dominant, high-testosterone guys? Yeah, you can guess what was going to happen.
So Gordon had a talk with us before Ana moved in.
It was altogether unexpected, my brother and I coming home one day to find dinner waiting. Gordon had whipped up his special Spaghetti Bolognese, a childhood treat. It must have been years since we’d tasted that special sauce and our mouths watered, starving from a grueling practice.
“So how’s school?” asked my dad mildly.
“Good,” I grunted, stuffing myself with garlic bread while reaching for another plate of pasta. Carbs were necessary when you worked out as hard as we did.
“You passing your classes? You know the NCAA has rules about academic eligibility,” he began.
“We’re fine,” snorted Peyton. “We met with Abigail last night, she helped us with chemistry and French.”
Oh right, beautiful Abigail. She’d tutored us in a lot more than those two subjects, judging from her delighted squeals as we rubbed her cunny, her fluids running down our fingers. Thank god there had been no one else at the library late at night, we would have been cited for disturbing the peace.
But my dad wasn’t letting up. He frowned as if reading our minds, and put down his fork.
“Boys, NCAA rules are the real thing,” he ground out. “Jeopardize your eligibility and it’s on you.”
Yeah yeah, this was old news. Gordon did well at his job, but he couldn’t foot the bill for two tuitions at State. So Peyton and I had to do our part by maintaining our scholarships, meet the baseline GPA, something about the college not being able to take below a 2.0. Lame but we’d be able to cross that bar, no problem.
But Gordon was dead serious, intent on driving home his point.
“Listen, this is no joke, you screw up and get your scholarships withdrawn, you think you can afford to stay in school? Think again,” he warned.
“Don’t worry Dad,” responded my brother. “Trust us, we’re fine, we’ve been doing way better in school this year. Besides, the year’s almost done and we’re in no danger. But how about Ana? You think she could lend a hand?” he slipped in. “I hear she’s brainy, maybe she could tutor us.”
My dad should have leapt at the opportunity, after all having a ready-made tutor who worked for free was the stuff of dreams right? One way to help your twin boys maintain their grades at no cost to yourself.
But Gordon took us by surprise and shook his head vehemently.
“No, Ana’s off limits,” he stated.
My brother and I looked up, surprised. Our dad’s a mild guy and any sort of strong emotion is rare for him.
“Really?” asked my brother. “What, is she not the teaching type?” My twin shot me a look, our glances knowing. We’d be teaching her a host of things, doing a lot more than hitting the books.
But my dad was stubborn as a mule, shaking his head.
“No, Ana’s not doing any tutoring,” he stated flatly. “She’s got her obligations just like you have yours,” he reiterated.
“What obligations?” I asked curiously. “She’s transferring senior year, what possible obligations could she have?”
“I don’t know either,” replied Gordon shrugging. “Listen,” he said, “Virginia has made it clear that her daughter’s off-limits to you.”
I sat back.
“What does off-limits mean?” I asked curiously. “Why would your wife even say that?”
“I dunno,” said Gordon seriously, “Her words, not mine. But Virginia’s made it very clear that her daughter’s out of bounds. So cool it with your new sister, okay?”
This was ridiculous, our parents had no idea what had happened at the wedding as far as we knew.
“Sure Dad, no prob,” I said casually, taking another huge bite of noodles. Yeah, that hit the spot, the spices just right, tangy and tasty.
But Gordon sprung the kicker next.
“Virginia has offered to pay your college tuition so long as you behave,” he said quietly. “So careful, okay? Just six months under the same roof.”
Peyton let out a low whistle.
“We fuck up and Virginia won’t write the check?” he asked bluntly, his eyes narrowing.
I half expected my dad to pshaw, to talk around the issue somehow, but he was startlingly direct.
“That’s right,” he confirmed. “Don’t mess this one up, this is real money that we can’t afford to lose. Your new sister is taking the room down the hall from you, don’t get up to your nightly shenanigans.”
And I stifled a laugh, managing not to spit out the red sauce. Because yeah, Peyton and I often took girls upstairs, the noises raucous, the moaning, sighing and gasping going on throughout the night, we’d probably woken my dad a couple times. Not to mention the morning-afters when there’d be a beautiful girl wandering downstairs with a dazed expression, her hair a mess, gingerly sitting down, perched on the chair because her cunny was sore from the double pummel she’d gotten the night before.
So that was what my dad was saying, in his own roundabout way. Bring our evening activities elsewhere. Otherwise, we’d lose the support of our new stepmom and be totally dependent on the generosity of State taxpayers. Given the way public schools were being defunded now, there might be no scholarships at all.
“Sure Dad,” I said. “We’ll keep it down, no worries.”
And Gordon nodded, satisfied.
“Boys, it’s worth a nice check over the years. It’ll let you focus on football instead of worrying about your scholarships.”
And Peyton nodded, catching my eye across the table. We were headed to the NFL and college-level play was merely a stage for us, something we had to do before declaring for the draft.
But yeah, life would be easier if Virginia’s money paved the way.
“No worries, Dad,” growled Pey. “Don’t worry about a thing.”
And we were silent for the rest of the dinner, three hungry men eating our fill. But my mind kept flitting to our stepsister. Could Peyton and I really keep our hands off of her?
CHAPTER NINE
Peyton
Our graduation ceremony was winding down and staff was already sweeping up, moving folding chairs out, clearing plates and hauling trash.
It’d been a good four years at White Plains High, Pax and I have had a great time. Of course, it helps if you’re the stars of the football team, the unquestioned MVPs, an unstoppable force on the field and adored by the student body.
But no matter. We’ve made a lot of friends, known a lot of these kids since we were young, and there was nothing to regret. Besides, it was time to move on, this city was getting small and Pax and I? We’re headed to the next stage, playing for the Alabama Crimson Tide. After that, nothing but pro ball.
So it was with a clear head that my bro and I sauntered the grounds of the high school one last time. We were headed out the next morning, training camp started early for student-athletes. This was a last nostalgia tour as we strolled around slowly, breathing deep, the stadium lights dim, the green grass almost fluorescent in the rays of the setting sun.
“It’s been a good run, hasn’t it?” remarked my brother. This had been our kingdom for the last four years and we’d always have fond memories.
“Oh yeah,” I rumbled. “Oh yeah.”
We were just about to turn around and head to the parking lot when we heard muffled sobs from a grove of trees by the west side. That was odd. It was almost like a kid crying, someone lost in the woods.
With perplexed frowns, we wordlessly began heading over in that direction, our legs eating up the ground, following the noises. Fighting through underbrush, pushing tree limbs out of the way, we followed the sobbing noises. Weird, but the sounds seemed to be disappearing deeper into the forest. Was it a kitten of some sort, separated from its mother and mewling for help?
“Ana,” I frowned. “What’s wrong? What are you doing here?”
She looked up for a moment, her tear-stained face glimmering in the low light, only to drop her head again and start crying when she saw us, the tears coming even harder.
Okay, we’ve made girls cry before but usually it’s from pleasure, the ecstasy so great that they literally lost control, shrieking as the tears rolled and their bodies spasmed. But this was weird. We’d just graduated from high school, so there was no reason to be bawling in the forest. In fact, it was doubly strange because Ana had finished with honors, radiant as she strode across the stage, her slim figure enveloped in a billowing blue robe, the mortarboard perched jauntily on her head, golden honor cords hung around her neck.
But the outfit was gone now, discarded in a heap by her side and Ana merely sat on the ground, refusing to acknowledge us as we towered over her small form, baffled by the sight.
“Girlie, how can we help?” rumbled my brother. He looked at me but I had no idea either and just shook my head.
She ignored us, turning her head away piteously.
“Ana, please baby,” I said. “Tell us what’s wrong.”
That got a response at least. She jerked her head up and glared at us with blazing eyes.
“Don’t call me baby!” she spat. “I’m not your baby!”
Of course she wasn’t, but she was in a way, if that makes sense. She was our younger sister, living down the hall from us, someone that we cared about although we’d barely spoken to her in the past couple months.
Lowering ourselves to our knees so that we were eye-level with the girl, I reached one big hand out to tip her chin our way, the hair falling free from her face, revealing those beautiful blue eyes, still swimming with tears.
“Ana,” I began softly.
But she interrupted again.
“Don’t talk to me!” she shrieked. “I hate you.”
Now Pax and I rolled back on our heels, surprised. Hate is a strong word for someone we’d barely had any contact with. I mean, after our explosive meeting at the wedding, we’d taken our dad’s advice and steered clear of the girl. Her mom had already cut checks for our first semester’s tuition and we didn’t want to jeopardize the financial lifeline.
But didn’t Ana know this? I started to explain as best as I could.
“Baby,” I said gently. “There’s no reason to hate us. We’ve maintained our distance from you …”
But she cut me off again.
“Because you’re self-centered bastards, that’s why,” she spat. “All you care about is football, you don’t give a shit about anything else.”
I could see why she thought that. Our days were consumed with practice, training, agility and strength conditioning, and after that, we had study hall before lights out, falling into bed dead tired. Sure, there were various encounters with willing women, but those had been growing more and more scarce as the season ended, our energies focused on the State Championships.
So I tried again to explain.
“Listen Ana, we’re not ignoring you,” I began.
But the girl couldn’t be stopped. She shot me a frigid glare, her mouth rigid.
“What else would you call it?” she spat. “I’ve been living in your house for four months now, and we’ve had all of what? Two conversations? Three? Tell me that isn’t ignoring.”
Pax and I sat back because of course it was. I could have tried to play it off as being busy, we had a lot of commitments, but that was bullshit and she didn’t deserve it.
“Listen,” interjected Pax this time. “We ignored you but it was for a reason.”
“Oh really,” she said sarcastically, “and what could that be?”
“Virginia,” he said simply. “Your mom didn’t want us to come within ten feet of you,” he said darkly, “so we agreed.”
“But why?” she asked plaintively. “Why? Why why why? When we’d already had explosive sex, when I’d already tasted you and I wanted you so badly.”
A rush of heat circled my groin at those words before settling in my balls, my dick growing hard as I looked at her. It was hard to explain. We wanted the money from her mom, and the bribe of free tuition had been enough to draw a line between us, to erect an invisible wall between Virginia’s daughter and the Jones boys.
But it seemed so lame that we’d given up a relationship with our stepsister in exchange for cold, hard cash. So instead of trying to explain with words, we let our bodies do the talking.
“Ana,” said my brother tenderly, “let us make it up to you.”
And with that, he crouched on the floor next to her, brushing her hair off her face. Her cheeks were tear-stained, but there had never been anyone more beautiful, her body lush, her gorgeous features haloed by golden tendrils of hair.
Ana sighed and gave a half-hiccup, half-sob.
“Seems like we’re always meeting in the forest, huh?” she asked, lifting a hand to wipe ruefully at her cheeks. “Wonder why?”
“Sometimes it’s fate,” I said darkly and bent my head to kiss her.
And it was pure magic, as if the world were cracking open. Her lips didn’t respond at first, still beneath mine, trembling as I tasted gently, running my tongue along that seam, tracing the outline of her mouth.
But with a sigh she gave in, opening her mouth, letting me explore, and I was immediately into that sweet cavern, pulling her into my arms, close into my masculine heat, letting her bask in the warmth of our twin suns.
Because Pax was behind her now, massaging those slim shoulders, slowly undoing the dress she’d worn to graduation.
“You won’t need this anymore,” he growled, slipping the fabric off, and Ana lifted her head for a moment, dazed, as the material fell off revealing her big, luscious breasts.
Now I’ve seen a lot of racks in my life, but my stepsister’s are grade A+, and that’s not an overstatement. Big, bouncy boobs of the palest cream, topped with deep pink nipples already hard, dying to be sucked. She was perfectly proportioned, each breast like a scoop of ice cream made of the tastiest vanilla.
And taste we did. My brother and I dipped our heads simultaneously, each taking a nipple in our mouths, rolling and sucking the puffy flesh, savoring the special flavor of willing female as Ana dropped her head back with a sigh, baring her swan-like neck, gasping as we drank our fill.
Because she was gorgeous, and we were two male animals finally taking what was ours again, marking our territory, letting her have a night to remember before we went our separate ways once and for all.
With hungry hands, we tore the dress off, leaving her with nothing but the barest of silk panties on. With a chuckle, I ran a finger along the crotch, lightly nudging her legs apart, letting my digits explore, feel that warm satin.
“You like, don’t you?” I murmured. And gratifyingly, the wet spot I’d been tracing at the center of her panties darkened even more, her little pussy anticipating what was to come, lubing the way for its ultimate satisfaction.
My bro, meanwhile, hadn’t let up on her boobs. He weighed one in each hand, testing their bounce, their heft in his hands, grunting at the way they bobbled up and down, her eighteen year-old body ripe and nubile at once.
“Damn,” was all he managed before pressing her boobs together and devouring both nipples in one gulp, suckling them simultaneously, letting the girl get the benefit of twin jolts of electric energy.
“Oh yeah,” I grunted, stroking her wet folds as my twin went to town. “Harder, she’s getting wetter from the boob-suck, do it harder.”
And with a nod, Pax went at it again, literally slurping as much of that creamy white flesh as he could manage, pulling deeply on her nips, squeezing and kneading as the girl let out breathy little cr
ies, yips and gasps of pleasure.
“Oh oh oh!” she moaned, her head thrashing on the wooded floor as we went to town, enjoying our own personal feast of female flesh.
Pax wasn’t done though. Lifting his head, he pushed her gazongas together and upwards towards Ana’s mouth.
“Suck,” he commanded.
Ana’s eyes flew open, shocked. Suck her own tits? That was so dirty and it seemed impossible, involving acrobatic contortions.
But that’s why we like our girls to be big-titted, it lets you do all sorts of things a pancake wouldn’t be able to do. Slowly, Ana bent her chin and craning her neck a little, she licked tentatively at her nipples, the pink tips growing even harder.
But Pax wanted full-on suck force, not just a few licks.
“Harder,” he commanded again, his voice strained.
And this time, Ana didn’t resist. She bent her head and fastened her lips on those nips, sucking the rosy tips with everything she was worth, her cheeks hollowing, a slight vacuum sound emanating as the pressure mounted.
And I could tell it was good, her eyes flying open with pleasure, her waist twisting and jerking slightly as I grounded her, two fingers now buried tight in that little cunny, reaching deeply into her wet warmth. The moment she’d started sucking, I’d penetrated her with a digit, sliding my finger into that moist darkness, letting the puffy channel of flesh envelop me, moving my finger up and down rhythmically, the sweetest of internal massages.
And the stimulation caused her to cream, her juices streaming like a waterfall now, my hand so deep in her twat that you could only see my wrist as it moved in and out, the female cream running all the way to my elbow before dropping off onto a bed of leaves.
“Mmm,” grunted Pax, glancing at my hand buried in her cunt. “That looks good. Get her loosened up and ready, and then let’s hit it.”
And it was true. Neither of us could wait much longer, we’re usually dudes who invest hours into foreplay, letting girls writhe in ecstasy, twist with pleasure before giving them a taste of donkey dong in their secret place.