DOUBLE DONKEY: A Twin Stepbrother Sports Romance (with BONUS book Twin Stepbrother Celebrity)

Home > Other > DOUBLE DONKEY: A Twin Stepbrother Sports Romance (with BONUS book Twin Stepbrother Celebrity) > Page 10
DOUBLE DONKEY: A Twin Stepbrother Sports Romance (with BONUS book Twin Stepbrother Celebrity) Page 10

by Cassandra Dee


  “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

  Liked this book?

  Then check out DOUBLE HUGE and DOUBLE MASSIVE

  -- more from the world of the Donkey!

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  Thanks for reading Double Donkey: A Twin Stepbrother Sports Romance. It’s the first time I’ve written sports romance and I hope you enjoyed it. Like I say, short on the sports and long on the heat!

  This time I based my story loosely on the Deflategate scandal engulfing the New England Patriots. No one will ever know what really happened, but it’ll be a shame if Tom Brady’s image is tarnished forever.

  If you have any comments, questions, or ideas, please feel free to email me at [email protected].

  And don’t forget to join my mailing list at www.tinyletter.com/cassandradee to get THREE FREE BOOKS unavailable elsewhere!

  All my best,

  Cassandra

  Liked Double Donkey?

  Then try DOUBLE MASSIVE available here.

  Or DOUBLE HUGE available here.

  Thirty inches of pure pounding pleasure!

  Scroll down to continue the fun! I’ve included a complimentary copy of Twin Stepbrother Celebrity (The Complete Series) next. Here’s a sneak peek:

  Porsche, I think her name was, had a net over her head, with a special hole for her lips. She was crouched in front of Christian, her head pulled right up to his groi
n as he fucked her mouth, ramming his dick in with no mercy, desperate choking, gurgling noises emanating from her throat.

  Mercedes too had a net over her head, but she was bent over, gripping her ankles so that her ass was exposed. At the moment, Croyden was finger fucking her, or maybe fist-fucking her would be a better description, it was so nasty. It was rough and vicious, and the girl was crying out in lust and pleasure, rocking her hips ever so slightly.

  “Look at this,” Croy called to his lacrosse teammates. “She’s so fucking wet, look at this shit on the floor,” indicating the wet droplets of female cum sprinkled on the hardwood.

  Holy shit, I thought as I fingered my cunny. These were my new stepbrothers?

  Twin Stepbrother Celebrity:

  Having Their Baby

  (Erotic Romance, PI)

  © 2015

  By Cassandra Dee

  Want to hear about my newest stepbrother romance? Addicted to sizzling stepbrother twins? Join my mailing list at www.tinyletter.com/cassandradee and get THREE FREE BOOKS unavailable elsewhere!

  CHAPTER ONE

  Lauren

  Christian and Croyden always got their way. Ever since my mom married their dad, I’ve been relegated to secondary status, unable to compete with my handsome, outgoing stepbrothers.

  Everyone’s always cooing over them, congratulating them on the latest lacrosse win, the last championship meet, heck even their most recent exam, getting the highest scores as usual. I was embarrassed because it was senior year and admissions letters had started arriving. Of course, Christian and Croy were admitted early to Princeton, while I was still waiting to hear from a few technical schools.

  But it didn’t matter. I want to be a nurse, and it’s not like Princeton even has a nursing program. To get the type of education I want, I know I’ll be better off working with patients from day one, getting the kind of hands-on training that’s increasingly rare today. So in a few months we’d be headed our separate ways, and I’d be spared my brothers’ endless needling.

  “Hey sis,” remarked Christian to me one morning. “What do you want for graduation? A training bra?”

  “Or maybe a padded bra?” added Croy, smirking.

  I hated them at that moment. Hated their perfect, athletic bodies, the green eyes, the chiseled jaws that made every girl at our high school swoon. It wasn’t fair. I stammered and looked down at my feet, flushing madly. It was true. I was skinny, a beanpole with non-existent boobs, but the comments about my lack of cleavage still hurt.

  “Whatevs,” I mumbled, leaving the kitchen. But the boys didn’t hear me, their attention drawn away by the TV in the kitchen. That’s how little I mattered and it stung, as always.

  And despite my efforts to make myself scarce, I always seemed to run into them at the most awkward times. There was the time my period had come unexpectedly and I’d rushed home in the middle of the day to change my skirt.

  Who would be there but Croy and Christian, lounging in the living room.

  “Why … why aren’t you in class?” I stammered, trying to keep my back against the wall so they couldn’t see the telltale red stain. But they just looked me over and laughed, as if already knowing my secret.

  “Athlete privileges you know?” said Croy. “We have study hall one period a day, and coach doesn’t care if we do it at home or at school.”

  Well, they clearly weren’t studying. They had some porn on, some pay-per-view stuff known for being hard-core.

  “Shh, shh,” said Christian, gesturing for us to hush. “This is the good part,” he said, with a lascivious grin before turning back to the screen. I stopped for a minute to watch, curious despite myself, and was just in time to catch a girl getting nailed by two men from both ends, squealing lustily as they did her, her boobs heaving as she crouched between them.

  Christian looked back at me. “Don’t you wish that was you, sister?” he asked with a disgusting sucking noise. Croy added some obscene hand gestures, popping his finger into his mouth and giving some fake oral.

  I was so humiliated that I beat feet to my room, not even caring if they saw the red seeping from skirt. But they didn’t notice. Their laughter wafted up the stairs, interspersed with moans from the screen, and when I left to go back to school, I didn’t bother to say goodbye or see if they wanted to ride together. I just slipped out the door, quiet and unnoticed.

  So it’s just been one embarrassing episode after another, and I can’t wait to go to college. I hope Evergreen Valley admits me, they have the most amazing nursing program. Best of all, it’s in California, as far from Princeton as you can get.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Christian

  I felt bad for Lauren sometimes. She’s actually only younger than us by the slimmest of margins, but I guess we’ve come to think of her as our baby sis. It’s just that she’s so easy to make fun of, so easy to get a rise out of.

  I remember seeing her in gym the other day. The lacrosse team was practicing on the field, and the girls’ gym class was running laps at the same time. Lauren was impossible to miss. She’s tall, lanky and gangly, like an uncoordinated colt. She was running in the middle of the pack of girls, all knobby knees and elbows, when suddenly the poor thing fell. Yeah, tripped on something, and smashed her face into the ground.

  The other chicks kept running and she was left to pick herself up, slowly getting to her feet, her shirt and shorts grass-stained, her curly brown hair coming out of its clip.

  I jogged over slowly.

  “What’d you trip on?” I asked, looking around. Maybe there was a rock or some uneven ground that I should tell the grounds crew about.

  But Lauren just colored and mumbled, not meeting my eyes, when I realized that she hadn’t tripped on another object … she’d tripped on her own feet!

  It was so ridiculous. As varsity lacrosse players with athletic scholarships, my brother and I are agile and quick, with the ability to run up and down a field multiple times without falling. To realize that our clutzy sister had tripped on nothing other than herself made me snigger.

  “Really?” I asked, disbelieving. “You got shoes that’re too big or something?”

  She’d stared at the ground, saying nothing, before darting off to rejoin the class, her gait just as ungainly as before.

  But I watched as she moved away. There was something about her. Both Croy and I liked her, although we’ve certainly never let her know. It’s hard to explain, but I’ll try.

  When our parents divorced, it was a fucking bad time for us, and the custody battle was hell on earth. My mom was a pill popper, and my dad used every resource in his means to paint her as a drug-addicted, amoral slut who couldn’t be trusted around us. Croy and I were only twelve at the time, so we were caught in the middle, no longer children but not quite men either.

  Of course, my dad won. After the divorce, we lived full-time with him, and my mom disappeared. It was heartbreaking. Maybe she hadn’t been the best mom ever, but she certainly wasn’t the monster that my dad portrayed.

  But pretty soon after, my dad started dating Teresa, and it was obvious, even to us, that this wasn’t a new relationship. This was something that had begun while my parents had still been married, and my dad had been a fucking adulterer, stepping out my mom to take up with Teresa.

  My brother and I were fucking pissed. We felt a sense of loyalty to our mom, and to know that there’d been another woman … shit, it was disgusting. It wasn’t just the pills or my mom’s scatterbrained habits. Instead, George had been seeing someone else on the side, pretending to be the responsible dad when actually he was a cheater.

  So when George and Teresa tied the knot last year, Croy and I revolted. We’d refused to attend the wedding, refused to go to the engagement dinner, and frankly refused to have anything to do with Teresa. We called her “the two-timing slut” or just “that slut.” God forbid she ask us to call her “Mom.”

  And I think she understood. She avoided us mostly, traveling a lot with my dad
, so they were often out of the house, leaving us to ourselves. But what we hadn’t counted on was Lauren, her daughter.

  Lauren, Lauren, Lauren of the big brown eyes, curly brown hair and willowy frame. No, willowy would be overstating – she was built like a straw. No ass, no boobs, more like a child than a woman. She was around our age, a senior in high school, and of course, she’d moved into our house. We’d barely bothered to acknowledge her. I still remember that first day, her boxes in the foyer, the girl madly typing on her phone when my brother and I returned from practice.

  “Whose shit is this?” Croy asked, kicking a box.

  “Um, it’s mine,” said Lauren nervously, standing up and brushing herself off. “Hi, I’m Lauren, your new stepsister. I’m sorry I didn’t get to meet you at the wedding,” she said, holding out her hand.

  No doubt my dad and Teresa had fed the guests some bullshit about Croy and I being busy, a fucking lie because we’d refused to show our faces. But even our new stepsister had fallen for it. I decided to set her straight.

  “Listen, I realize we’re legally related now, but don’t give us any shit okay?” I snarled. “My brother and I don’t want you here, just like we don’t want your slut mom.”

  Lauren gasped and covered her mouth, but didn’t look surprised. Suddenly, I remembered that shit had gone down on her side as well. Her mom had stepped out on her dad, ditching her husband to marry George. What a slut couple, what kind of role models were they?

  “Don’t bother us, and we won’t bother you,” snarled Croy as we hauled our gear upstairs. And there had been no sound from downstairs for the rest of the night.

 

‹ Prev