DOUBLE MASSIVE: A Twin Stepbrother Romance

by Cassandra Dee

  As the music continued, Kacey stepped forward in time with the beat, and that’s when I saw an older lady in a white dress behind her. Oh thank fuck. Our girl was only the maid of honor at this impromptu wedding and not the main course. I heaved a sigh of relief and could feel my brother starting to breathe again as well.

  Kacey moved down the aisle, not meeting our eyes, pretending that everything was okay. She smiled at my dad and nodded to him graciously. Obviously they’d met before, and she took a place to the left side of the minister, making room for the bride.

  My dad and my new stepmom, I guess I should call her, were completely oblivious to the silent drama that was playing out all around them. They only had eyes for each other, big happy smiles, and dreamy expressions. Hey, I was happy for my dad, even though we’d gotten off to a somewhat awkward start with somewhat awkward conclusions.

  The priest took us through the ceremony, and it was a little canned but still sweet. I’ve been to dozens of weddings, and they can be long and elaborate, but the beauty of a hospital ceremony is that it’s short, to the point, with a minimum of fuss but hitting all the high notes just the same. When we got to the “I do’s,” I thought my dad might cry, he was so happy.

  Finally, the groom was permitted to kiss the bride, and we broke out into a round of polite applause, our claps ringing in the chapel.

  As my dad looked up, he addressed my brother and I. “Boys, let me introduce you to Noreen, your new stepmom, and Kacey, your new sister.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Kacey

  I couldn’t believe what had just happened. I’d come home for the July fourth weekend as promised, and my mom couldn’t stop smiling, she wanted to share her secret. She’d gotten engaged to her pulmonologist, a doctor at Newark Gen and was getting married tomorrow in the hospital chapel.

  “But Ma,” I protested. “How long have you known this guy?” I asked. “Two months?”

  “Baby, we just met, but when you’re my age, you see a good guy and grab him if he’s available. I’m not like you, a pretty young thing. It’s not like there are men lining up at my doorstep asking for dates.”

  “But Ma, that’s not even it,” I said disbelieving. “I mean, you’re sick. Does he know just how ill you are?”

  “Of course honey, he’s my doctor, and before you say anything, this is going to be good for both of us. I’ve been totally honest with him about my money situation, and I’ll be moving to his house in the suburbs after this weekend.”

  That was good. There wasn’t any way we could hide our poverty, but yeah so Doctor Phillips couldn’t be marrying her for some quick cash. And he had to know about her failing health, he was treating her after all. Come to think of it, she might not have that many years left so the shotgun aspect, morbid as it was, made a little bit of sense.

  But I hadn’t been able to ask her many questions because she’d rushed me to the hospital after I changed into the pink gown I’d packed.

  “Just bring something nice,” she’d requested. “Like something you might wear to a wedding.”

  But I’d almost died when the double doors opened and I’d seen the men standing at the altar. Not the groom obviously, but the two masculine, domineering men flanking him, dark hair and green eyes flashing. It was the two men from the club … Logan and Lance.

  Before you ask if I’d lost contact with them since that fateful night, the answer was yes, sort of. It wasn’t that I wanted to. It’s just that the other strippers cautioned me about seeing customers outside of work.

  “Listen Kacey, you don’t know them,” warned Sheila, an older woman who still had a hot bod. “You know why strippers are always victims on TV? Because it’s true,” she emphasized. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

  “But … but I just had sex with them on stage!” I stuttered. “I feel like I know them already … sort of.”

  “Yeah but that was here, with us here to protect you. Once you step outside, there are no guarantees honey, you’re just a corpse in the morgue.”

  Okay, maybe that’d been going too far, but she freaked me out nonetheless. I’d met Logan and Lance outside after the show as promised, dressed in a trampy leopard print jacket, but the guys hadn’t cared. They’d gestured to a fancy car, indicating for me to get in, and that triggered an internal alarm. Never get in a car with attackers is the first rule of personal safety, right?

  And so I’d shaken my head, done my best to give them a breezy smile, and taken a drag of my cigarette.

  “Next time, okay?” I said, striding back into the club, adding some bounce to my walk. I could feel their eyes on my ass, watching every sway, but the twins made no effort to change my mind, to chase me.

  Back in the darkened club, Sheila asked, “So what happened?”

  “I just told them next time,” I said. “They know where to find me.”

  Suddenly Linda cut in, another peroxide blonde.

  “Don’t listen to Sheila’s bullshit,” she snorted, her hair especially garish in the neon lights. “There’s no next time with guys like that.”

  And unfortunately, it was true. Although I’d worked every night for the next week at the Donkey Club hoping to see them, the twins hadn’t come back. I’d consoled myself, telling myself that everything was in my head, they hadn’t looked at me as anything special. I was a dancer, after all, and had fucked them silly in public. I wasn’t exactly a good girl that you brought home to mom.

  But now at the hospital, fate had brought us together again. Because Logan and Lance stood by their father’s side, astonishment in their eyes as I glided down the aisle. Holy shit, my mom was getting married to their dad? Oh my god, I’d accidentally had sex with my stepbrothers?

  The same thoughts must have been going through their minds, although they managed to look calm during the ceremony, letting our parents enjoy their special time. But I could hardly meet their eyes over the table during lunch.

  “Kacey,” said my mom. “You live in the city too. Is your apartment near Logan and Lance’s place?”

  “Um no,” I said, my face flushing. “I live in Hell’s Kitchen and they live downtown,” I muttered. I didn’t want to add that I lived in a crumbling fourth floor walk-up easily accessible to the Donkey Club, whereas my new brothers lived in Tribeca, one of the most expensive neighborhoods in the city.

  “Well, you guys should get together sometime,” encouraged my mom, “especially now that you’re siblings.”

  I felt myself grow beet red at the word “siblings” and shot a quick look at my new brothers. Infuriatingly, they looked amused rather than embarrassed.

  “Yes sister,” said Lance, ever the tease. “Let’s get together sometime. I live right around the corner from Logan, we’re happy to host.”

  Even the word “host” made me flush. It made me think of hosting some kind of depraved sex party, where I’d be servicing the guests.

  But Logan stepped in, smoothly and calmly, rescuing me from my obvious discomfort.

  “Kacey, the least we can do is give you a ride back to the City. How about it?” he asked.

  “Oh thank you, we appreciate it,” gushed my mom. “Kacey you’re always saying how the train is late, how it takes forever. Why don’t you ride back with them? It’s Sunday night, traffic shouldn’t be bad.”

  “No Ma, it’s okay,” I said quickly. “I have a lot of stuff, I don’t want to burden Logan and Lance.”

  “No burden,” said Lance.

  “No trouble at all,” said Logan.

  And so it was settled. My tattered suitcase was packed into the back of the Tesla, and I waved goodbye to my mom and new stepdad as we zoomed off.

  “So Kacey,” said Lance. “This is interesting, given the circumstances. Your mom thinks you work at a non-profit?” He smiled wickedly, throwing me a glance from the front seat.

  Oh god. I squirmed in the back. I was in such a small space with these men, their massive forms so close in the compact car. I flushed again, my breasts enla
rging, my bottom moistening in the tight confines.

  “Um … yeah,” I confessed. We’d talked about our jobs at lunch, and I’d hastily spoken before the twins could say anything. “I work in immigration reform at the Urban Justice Project,” I’d said quickly, giving them a swift glance, pleading with them to keep their mouths shut.

  And my brothers had taken the cue.

  “I’m sure you’re an excellent advocate,” said Lance.

  “Your dedication to eradicating poverty is impressive,” added Logan, with a wry grin my way.

  I was silently appreciative, shooting them a grateful look of thanks. But now the moment had arrived, and my brothers and I had a lot of ground to cover.

  “My mom and I … I don’t want her to worry about me,” I said slowly from the back seat. “She’s sick and was worried enough when I headed off to the city on my own.”

  “That’s true,” nodded Logan thoughtfully, eyeing me in the rearview mirror. “Our dad mentioned that he was treating her as a patient, and usually he only sees fairly complicated cases,” he said.

  “Yes, so … I didn’t want to tell her that things didn’t exactly go smoothly when I moved to New York. I was supposed to have a scholarship to attend the New School, but somehow that got all messed up, and there was no money for tuition. So I figured I’d work for a semester, save up, and then re-enroll.”

  “But it didn’t exactly work that way. I couldn’t find a job,” I said shamefacedly. “Not even Starbucks. I guess since they offer health benefits and tuition reimbursement, everyone wants to work for them these days.”

  My brothers exchanged a look. Okay, as high-flying real estate brokers, hearing me pine for a job at Starbucks was below their usual strata. But this wasn’t the time to mince words. They’d already seen me dance and knew what I did for a living.

  “But baby,” said Logan softly. “Surely there was a place for you somewhere. Maybe as a nanny or paralegal?”

  I smiled bitterly.

  “Believe me, I tried,” I said. “To work childcare in NYC, you need a license, and most law firms want their paralegals to have college degrees,” I said. “Which I don’t have,” I concluded.

  My brothers exchanged another glance. I could tell something was brewing and it wasn’t good. But before I could say anything, we pulled into the driveway of an expensive-looking building, a doorman running out to greet the twins.

  “Mr. Phillips,” he said courteously, nodding at them both. “Welcome back.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Kacey

  I gasped. I’ve walked past fancy buildings in New York but I’ve never actually been invited into one. It was the kind of thing that we talked about at the strip club, half-jokingly but with a sense of wistfulness.

  “One day, my prince is going to whisk me off and I’m going to live in the Time Warner Center,” said Jumee, a cute button of a girl who’d only started recently.

  “Yeah, yeah,” said Linda. “Why would you want Time Warner? Go for 15 Central Park West, that’s where the real moolah is.”

  And the discussion went on, these hypothetical palaces where we’d eventually find ourselves, away from the dingy back room of the strip club. Of course, this was all pie in the sky. Most of us didn’t have any skills other than stripping, and no education, friends or family as fallbacks either.

  So it was with a sense of wonder that I stepped into the imposing lobby. There were two doormen, wearing uniforms complete with cap and white gloves. Amazing! And an elevator too – what I wouldn’t give for one when hauling groceries up the four flights of stairs in my walk-up.

  And so I’d ridden the elevator with my brothers, feeling very small between their twin forms. Again, in the confined space I’d become aroused again, my nips poking against my flimsy dress, my vee moistening. I was so glad that I’d worn something pretty today instead of raggedy shorts and a t-shirt.

  And when Lance opened the door to his apartment, the view made me catch my breath. He had floor to ceiling views of the Hudson River, the sunlight sparkling off the waves. It was a reminder that we were surrounded by nature, even living in the middle of the concrete jungle.

  “Wow,” I breathed, giving him a dazzling smile. “This is amazing.”

  “Mm-hmm,” said Logan as he deposited my suitcase into a spare room. “I keep telling him to move higher-up, but he says that the view on the twenty-fifth is good enough already.”

  Higher up? It already felt like we were in the clouds, soaring among birds, and yet Lance was contemplating moving even further into the sky?

  But before I could say anything, Logan passed me a drink, pausing before giving me a frown.

  “Are you legal drinking age yet?” he asked.

  “Um … technically, no,” I said. “The Donkey Club thinks I’m twenty-one, but I’m nineteen,” I muttered, my head down.

  “Give it to her, she’s being supervised by her older brothers,” drawled Lance, throwing me another wicked smile.

  And I took a sip of the drink, which burned, fiery and tingly down my throat. What a load of difference expensive bourbon is, vastly unlike the swill I sometimes downed at the Donkey Club.

  “So,” said Lance, sitting next to me on the couch, letting a big hand trail on my leg. “What do we do next?”

  I was confused. “What do you mean?” I asked softly.

  “Well, Logan and I were mighty disappointed when we weren’t able to get to know you better after the Gonzo Size contest,” he said, stroking my thigh. “But it seems that fate has brought you back into our arms.”

  Was it my imagination or were his fingers fluttering closer and closer to my puss? I could feel the heat in my vee like a bright bulb, emanating in waves.

  “Yeah,” said Logan, seating himself on my other side. “We know each other well already, wouldn’t you agree?” he said, arching an eyebrow at me mischievously, trailing light fingers over my shoulder. “I think we already crossed the line at the Donkey Club,” he added with a smirk.

  But I was still confused. “But … you can’t mean …” I gasped. “I mean, we’re siblings now, like my mom said,” I murmured. “You can’t be serious. Are you saying we should have sex together? Like brothers and sisters having sex?”

  “No baby, it’s not like brothers and sisters,” soothed Lance. “We’re not really related, and let’s be honest, we just set eyes on you for the first time two weeks ago. We’re practically strangers,” he finished.

  And he was right on those points. I’d never seen these men before they stepped into the Donkey Club, but they’d been haunting my thoughts ever since. And fuck, they were so handsome, so domineering with their twin green gazes fixed on my body.

  I have to say, I was desperate. It was like a dream come true for me, and I caved under those hot, hungry looks.

  “Okay,” I whispered. “But just this once.”

  My brothers smiled and kissed me gently, first Lance and Logan, their hands stroking my curves, savoring the womanly flesh. “You won’t regret it, little sister,” murmured Lance into my ear.

  And their stroking picked up the pace. Before I realized it, they’d pulled the dress from me, the cotton candy confection discarded on the floor. I was wearing nothing underneath except tiny pink panties and thigh-high stockings with my pink heels. The men gazed as me ravenously, their eyes devouring me, almost shooting sparks from the flames within.

  “Fuck, you’re beautiful,” breathed Logan.

  “Absolutely perfect,” agreed Lance, a gleam in his eye.

  My brothers molded me as if I were the most precious treasure they’d ever held. They weighed my tits in their hands, squeezing the soft, malleable flesh, rolling my nipples between their fingers before dipping their heads to suckle, their tongues tracing circles around my areola.

  “Oh!” I sighed. “Yes brothers, that feels good.”

  The sucking intensified, their twin dark heads bent to my breasts, licking, squeezing, nipping, the sight so erotic I creamed slightly
between my legs. Their hands explored my body too, gripping the soft flesh of my thighs, trailing closer to the inexorable heat of my cunt.

  “Ahhh!” I gasped as Lance wiggled a finger against the damp spot on my panties. “Oh!” I breathed as he pushed in a bit, letting his finger dip into that sweet heat.

  “Mmm, you like this don’t you?” he asked wickedly, looking at me with hungry eyes. With a swift twist of his wrist, he swept my panties to the side, scrunching them into the soft gap between my leg and snatch. My chubby pussy was bare, glistening and engorged, dying for their attention.

  But instead of playing with my cunny, making me feel good, my brothers wanted a show.

  “Go on,” nudged Logan, helping me to my feet. I could hardly stand, I was so aroused, tottering in my high heels, my puss exposed.

  “Show us those delicious assets,” rumbled Lance, leaning back, spreading his arms over the back of the sofa.

  And so I started to do what I knew best. No music was necessary, I was able to sway to a beat in my head, and it helped so much that I actually wanted to fuck my customers this time, to feel those meaty, hard poles in my snatch. Reading my mind, my brothers unzipped their pants slowly, letting their fleshy, deep pink members pop out, waving in the air, pointing straight to the sky.

  I almost cried, I wanted to feel those hot fuckpoles in me again, stuffing my hot box. And I knew if I danced well, it would come sooner rather than later.

  I swayed my hips, lifting a breast in each hand. I have huge Double D’s and I lovingly caressed them, making sure to outline their sweet circular shape, pinching and twisting my nipples. I lifted one to my mouth, the flesh heavy and pendulous, and licked the tit with my tongue, all the time making eye contact with my brothers.

  They groaned, throwing their heads back, their hands stroking their shafts furiously. With a coy smile, I noted that both of their dicks were wet, Lance’s leaking so hard and fast that his cock was already shiny and moist, ready to fuck.