The Good Twin's Baby

by Vivien Vale

Anyway, I’m thinking that this lumbering officer of the law better hope that it’s some scared shitless high schooler with a learner’s permit or a sweet old Sunday-driver grandma who just happens to be out in the middle of the week getting fucking oranges or rolls or whatever.

  Because if there’s any shit of any kind that’s about to go down, there can be no doubt that it’s gonna go down hard on the Stay Puft fucking Marshmallow officer. And when it goes down hard, it might not be too bad to have a front-row seat, maybe while enjoying one or two of those fresh zeppolas riding in the shotgun seat next to me.

  Now, a motherfucker such as myself would generally be wise to avoid such situations, but as a current model citizen, one who enjoys a good fucking show, I don’t see the harm in maybe pulling over and putting the Continental in park.

  As I do just that, I keep a close eye on Mr. 5-0. Some fucking cop. The dude doesn’t even notice me pulling over, or at least he’s pretending not to.

  I’m on the other side of the road, and I can get a good look at his face.

  Damn, that motherfucker looks excited. I could swear that he’s drooling, approaching the vehicle like some sort of determined law-enforcement zombie...or like there are a few boxes of chocolate-glazed donuts waiting for him in the backseat.

  No, fuck it, I can’t judge the 5-0 man for that. He’s drooling, maybe literally, over whatever shit’s about to happen. I may be getting a little drooly myself now.

  I’m glad I stopped and just happened to be making my way this way, because this has got to be good.

  I turn off the loud-as-fuck ignition of the Continental—does that motherfucker really not notice?—and I lean over to roll down the window.

  Sometimes these old-ass manual cars with no power fucking windows come in handy, but whatever that po-po dude is headed toward has him distracted good and proper.

  I may as well just fucking get out and watch.

  I undo my seatbelt, pull up the driver’s side lock, and step out of my own fucking vehicle. I take a quick glance at the glove box first.

  You don’t think I go anywhere without my .38, do you? I know I’m crowing about being law-abiding and all that, but a motherfucker like me, with the life built around me, can’t be that fucking stupid.

  It ain’t registered, not that that matters. I’m leaving it there for now.

  The 5-0 man doesn’t register the Continental door slamming. He doesn’t see me peering over the top of the sedan like a prairie dog either.

  Fuck, what’s that?

  I hear the sound coming from the vehicle that the officer of the law is apprehending.

  It sounds like...yeah, a chick laughing, and then moaning. Now there’s a guy moaning, too.

  The cop doesn’t notice me, and the happy couple is yet to notice Mr. Officer staring at them.

  The thing is, this particular officer of the law doesn’t look ready to cite these lovebirds for indecent exposure or some shit. He looks ready to fucking join in.

  I don’t think I’ve ever used this word in my fucking life, but gross.

  This is some weird shit. What the hell do I do now?

  Kat

  I want to get something out of the way, like, right off the bat. Before we get any further. Before you make any fucking judgments about what comes next (and comes next, and comes next).

  I am not a slut.

  Or, okay, well, I am, but hold your fucking opinions for a hot sec. I’m a slut in the way that all women deserve to be sluts—kinky, confident, in charge of my sexuality, and damn proud of it.

  I know what I like. I know what I want. I know when I want it, and I know how to get it when I do.

  So when the police officer taps his dirty little flashlight against the driver’s side window—just as Jason is getting to the good part—I utilize the full extent of my arguably slutty powers, and I crank the window down.

  “Hunnf?” Jason says.

  Generally, hunnf is not a word. At least, it’s not in the English language. You won’t find it in the Oxford dictionary. Maybe not even on that Urban Dictionary site.

  But when Jason’s mouth is currently busy and buried beneath my dripping wet pussy with the driver’s seat leaned all the way back while I ride his face and my big, bare tits threaten to honk the horn on the steering wheel…

  A bitch can translate.

  He’s not really sure where I’m going with this, and hell. Maybe I’m not either.

  “What seems to be the—oh! Fuck, baby, yessss. Right there! Mmm.” I lick my lips and stare up at my reflection in the officer’s shiny silver aviators. “Problem, Officer?”

  He’s a big guy, the officer. His uniform, it doesn’t fit him right. But look—and remember, I’m maybe, maybe not really a slut—I’m just so horny right now, all I can think is how much better he would feel out of it.

  I’d feel better too. That’s the thing about police officers, you know? When they’re out of uniform, we all feel more comfortable.

  He can keep the handcuffs and the badge around, though. Maybe even the gun.

  “Ma’am,” the officer says. There was a smile on his face when he came up to the window, but now his throat sounds dry. Totally parched, even.

  “Thirsty, honey?” I ask. Not a slut. Just, y’know, improvising here. “Sounds like you need to…”

  My eyes travel all the way down his uniform, over his dad-bod cop belly where it strains at the buttons of his shirt to a big tent in his slacks where something else is straining.

  Fuck. He’s probably as big as Jason. Bigger even, maybe.

  “Wet your whistle?” I suggest. Admitted, kind of like a slut might.

  “Mmph,” Jason says. Maybe in protest. Maybe he’s into it.

  His tongue is still flicking against my clit like it’s a pleasure button just begging to be pushed, so I’m willing to assume the latter.

  “You’re…you’re offering…” the officer stutters. Slowly, very slowly, he’s piecing it together.

  “We don’t want any trouble,” I reassure him.

  He pulls down his aviators. He’s got pretty eyes—cornflower blue. They’re sweet, if not a little enraptured in disbelief.

  They’re also making love to my tits right now, and who can even blame him?

  “No trouble,” he says.

  “Mmmmmph,” Jason moans.

  I grind my cunt harder against Jason’s gorgeous mouth.

  “Just a little fun,” I tell the officer.

  He licks his lips.

  He offers me a hand.

  I take it and slide off Jason’s mouth. Just short of an orgasm, but I’m betting we can rectify that situation shortly.

  “Hey,” Jason complains, sitting the seat up. “I was using that.”

  I make sure to grind the that in question against Jason’s own rock-hard erection as the cop presses my hand against his own sizable piece of man meat.

  “What’s the law in this state about concealed weapons?” I giggle, squeezing the cop’s hard-on.

  The cop smiles. He’s got a good smile. No, he’s not a hot piece of ass like Jason is, but he’s tall, broad shoulders, probably kind of a perv, but y’know. Sometimes, you take what you can get.

  “We’re in favor of them,” says the cop.

  I hop out of the car and bend over to show him exactly where I’d like him to conceal his weapon.

  “Kat, you dirty fucking slut.” Jason laughs.

  I have just enough time to open my mouth in protest before Jason sticks his cock in it.

  You know what? Fucking redacted. Hello, my name is Kat, and I’m a slut.

  Hello, Kat.

  That’s right, baby.

  I hear the cop relieve himself of his belt and lower his zipper. His cock presses against my soaking wet slit, slick with my honey and Jason’s saliva, as I gag on Jason’s huge throbbing dick.

  Honestly? Full slut admission here? Choking on cock just makes me wetter.

  I take Jason down my throat all the way. My lips touch down on his big
gorgeous balls just as the cop hilts himself in my cunt. Generally, I’m kind of a sore loser. By the end of this, I’m going to be a sore winner, too.

  The cop’s rod is so long and thick, my pussy can barely accommodate him, but I believe in myself.

  As he reaches around to stroke my clit, it does a greedy little victory dance.

  Of the three of us, I didn’t figure Jason would finish first. But when he does, oh my god, he comes so beautifully. His cock throbs against my tongue once, twice, and then he’s pumping my mouth so full of cum that I have to suck and slurp even harder to keep from wasting any of it.

  I come next. The combined ministrations of the cop’s fingers at my clit, his cock balls-deep in my pussy, and Jason’s cum in my mouth sends me over the edge. Full-body orgasm.

  My knees knock together. I drool Jason’s cum back onto his cock and scramble to lick at all up.

  “Aw, fuck,” the cop moans from behind me. “Oh, god—you’re so fucking hot, honey! You’re so tight! I’m gonna…I’m gonna—”

  Whatever he was gonna do, we can always assume, but we’ll never really know. Because just as I’m pretty sure I’m about to be filled up with cum in both ends at once, I hear a hard THUNK! Sound off from behind me.

  Then I feel the cop’s body slump to the ground, leaving my pussy aching, gaping, and throbbing in his absence.

  Standing over the cop’s unconscious form is one of the most gorgeous men I’ve ever seen, the grip of a pistol still wielded in his hand from where he’s knocked the cop out of it.

  “I’m Will,” the gorgeous man says, surveying the scene. “I, uh…thought you folks looked like you needed help.” As his eyes widen, taking it all in, realization dawns on him. “I see now that, uh…might not exactly be the case.”

  “Huh,” Jason says, a little dumbfounded.

  “Oh well.” I shrug. “It’s nice to meet you, Will. He’s got his handcuffs there on his belt—this might be a good time to use them.”

  Obligingly, Will stoops and cuffs the cop’s hands behind his back while I reach across the seat and gather my clothes.

  “You got someplace safe we can go?” I ask him, shimmying into my shorts.

  “Ah, yeah,” Jason says, zipping up his jeans. “This, uh…well, you can see how this looks.”

  Will nods. “I live just up the way. Let me hop in my car and you can, uh, follow me.”

  “What about him?” Jason asks, nodding to the cop.

  I bite my lip as my gaze lands on the cop’s still-hard man meat, hanging there out of his pants. He wasn’t a bad fuck by any means, but who knows what would have happened if I hadn’t been so willing, y’know?

  “We’ll flip his hazards on and we can just…leave him here, I guess,” I say with a shrug. “When he comes to, it will probably all just feel like a really crazy dream.”

  Will

  Her tanned, toned legs get my attention first.

  I imagine them around my waist as I fuck her against this car, but first thing’s first.

  Then I run my eyes over her body, taking in every curve until I see her face. She’s the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen, an angel. And trust me, I’ve seen it all. From my mansion on the hill, I have the run of this town, only no one knows it.

  I operate behind closed doors. You get more done that way.

  I have a mind to swing her over my shoulder and make her never forget meeting me.

  I saw her banging that dirty cop from afar, and now that I’m up close, I see she’s got another treat as well.

  “What’s your name, honey?” I ask.

  “Oh, um, hi. I’m Kat,” she says nervously, not able to tear her eyes away from mine.

  “Who’s the guy?” I ask point-blank.

  “I’m Jason.” He’s zipping up his pants and offering his hand in a sign of generosity.

  What he doesn’t get is that I’m not generous, not with my women, anyway.

  “There’s only room for one,” I say, pointing to the motorcycle I’m about to steal, because I’m not about to let the fuckwad go with Kat and me. “Lose the boyfriend.”

  She looks willing to give him up easily, and I’m glad.

  The cop’s still unconscious and handcuffed on the ground.

  What she doesn’t get is that she doesn’t have a choice. I’m taking her with me whether she wants it or not.

  I grab her by the waist and put her on the back of this Harley and crank it up—what idiot left his keys in the ignition?—just as she’s waving a tentative goodbye to her little boyfriend.

  He’s got nothing on me. I’m a goddamn billionaire bad boy, and if there’s something I see that I want, I just take it.

  Kat grips me hard by the waist as we ride off to my secret estate. The feel of her hands around me gets my cock hard even as the bike vibrates beneath us. Her vulnerability feels like pure anguish at me not being able to take advantage of her right here.

  If I wanted to, I could take her away, off into the sunset or some such shit, but instead, I have other plans for her.

  What my new beauty doesn’t quite understand is that she’s going to be mine now.

  We ride for a while, and the cool breeze makes her squeeze my waist a little bit harder, maybe because she’s cold, or maybe because she’s scared.

  It’s not every day a stranger comes along with a build like mine. I don’t think she’s seen a real man until this very moment.

  I’m going to show her what she’s been missing.

  The iron gates of my estate pull open, and we cruise in. I turn to see her awe-struck face and how she’s trying to take in all the beauty of my mansion even though the light of the moon dimly lights it.

  “This is home,” I say, helping her off the bike.

  She’s staring up at the facade of the manor, and I hope she realizes that she’s my virtual prisoner here.

  It’s like Beauty and the goddamn Beast, only I’m no beast, unless you count 6’5 of pure, rock-solid muscle, a chiseled face, and a twelve-inch cock as beastly.

  “Come in.” The door creaks open as I lead her inside.

  Candles are lit, and they illuminate the wooden paneling and the old architectural detailing of the place. Black and deep red velvet curtains adorn the windows, and expensive art hangs on the walls.

  It’s enough for her to understand that she’s somewhere new—a place where fantasies come true.

  “What’ll you drink?” I ask her from the bar in the corner.

  She looks at me with wide eyes, trying to understand where she is and how it all got to this point. There’s a sexual chemistry between us even now. It’s unavoidable, and we both feel it.

  “Do you have Pinot Noir?”

  “Sure.”

  I get her drink, and then I pour myself a scotch.

  “Want a tour of the place?”

  “Um, yes, of course. It’s beautiful in here.”

  I take her hand and lead her through the many rooms. I show her the marble-lined kitchen that has all the modern amenities—several guest rooms, the theater room, workout room, and then I lead her upstairs to the observatory.

  Her eyes take it all in like she’s trying to memorize it.

  “Wow, you can see all the way to the ocean from out here.”

  “I know. Do you like it?”

  “Like it? I love it.”

  Her eyes dazzle in the moonlight as she sips her wine. “You know, I’ve never been in a place like this.”

  I pull her to my side where she can hug my torso. I set her drink down on the wall of the balcony. And then, under the light of a million stars, I kiss her.

  I kiss her passionately like I own her already. All I need is a little bit of a sign from her, and then I’ll take her away into oblivion.

  “Tell me that you want this,” I breathe down her neck.

  She doesn’t respond, and that infuriates me. I pull her chin up so that she has to meet my gaze.

  “Tell me what I want to hear,” I practically growl.

&n
bsp; She’s defiant, silent, but her eyes tell me everything I need to know. She has a look of yearning.

  I kiss her again, slowly this time. She gives in.

  I feel her body melt beneath my hands, my lips, my teeth. I’m ready to take this to the next level, and by the night’s end, I’ll have her begging for it.

  Before I can kiss her again, though, we’re interrupted by the doorbell. I look over the edge of the balcony, and I see her little boyfriend has found my place. Cunning little bastard.

  She tries to cry out to him from our position on the balcony, but I cup my hand over her mouth.

  “Shhh, not a word, understand?”

  She nods yes and then I see it again...that spark of attraction and desire she has for me.

  This is gonna be an interesting night.

  Kat

  I’m in the house, and Jason is right outside, exactly where we need to be. Taking down this son of a bitch is going to be even more fun than fucking him. I can’t wait to drop this little girl act and get back to fucking Jason.

  It’s been seven fucking years, after all, and we were thrown into this game the minute we set eyes on each other again.

  Between dirty cops and playboys who think they’re gangsters, Jason and I have had a busy night.

  The house is nice, and man, this one knows how to kiss. He probably has a kinky playroom all set up with all the expensive toys. Dilettante, I wish I could show him some real dominance.

  I like making little boys with their expensive toys squirm with just some surgical tape and my voice.

  But tonight, I’m the sub, damsel in distress, his captive. He has his hand over my mouth, so I open my eyes wide and feign terror mixed with attraction. The attraction is there; terror, not so much.

  He takes his hand from my mouth and kisses me hard. I bend back away from the kiss, pretending to still need coercion. He’ll spill more secrets if he thinks he has control.

  He was hard to find, this player in the shadows. He made our job hard. The dirt will be worth it, though. Trading in secrets is a lucrative business.

  He bites my lower lip, and I let out a gasp. His hands are all over my body. I’m wet, already thinking about Jason breaking in downstairs while I keep the playboy busy.