Bryan had been about to answer when Blake interrupted.
“You know, I think that’s a great idea,” he said smoothly. And was I imagining things or had he just shot his brother a warning glance? “We’ll drop by the precinct after school tomorrow and see if we can chat with some of the boys in blue, see if someone’s off duty and willing to give us the low-down on the lifestyle.”
And I’d smiled happily because I wanted what was best for them. I’d never expected to marry rich, and was perfectly content with two handsome men dressed in police uniforms.
But my mom had other ideas. Mary had laughed when I mentioned I was dating a guy who wanted to be a cop.
“Honey, you can’t be serious,” she said. “Now that I’m engaged to Harold Sterling and Tina’s married Jake Sterling, you have so many opportunities before you! The Sterlings can provide you with an entrée into the most elite crowds, you can meet bankers, lawyers, young tech entrepreneurs. Don’t you want that? Don’t you want to be taken care of?” she’d asked.
I was confused. “But Mom, you didn’t marry rich and things worked out okay,” I said.
Okay, obviously that wasn’t exactly true at the moment given that my sister Jenna had disowned us. But stuff happens and I was still holding out hope that Jenna would come back, be my big sister again.
But my mom just shook her head in exasperation.
“Honey, it’s not easy to raise a family and you know how I struggled as a single mom with four children,” she admonished. “I mean, this isn’t serious, is it? You’re both still in high school and this young man … it’s just puppy love,” she concluded emphatically.
That’s the thing. That’s not how I felt about Blake and Bryan, it wasn’t puppy love at all. I’ve been “in love” with a few boys before and my relationship with the twins went far beyond that. It was deeper, stronger, and we relied on and trusted each other, making dinner together, paying bills, acting like adults. I wasn’t sure where they got their money, but I wasn’t worried. The twins were going to make an honest living regardless.
But I figured this wasn’t the time to dive deeper into the conversation, much less confess that I was sleeping with twins.
“Listen Ma,” I sighed. “I haven’t been at home for a few months and it’s because I’ve been staying with Blake and his brother,” I said simply. “It’s just easier, you know?”
“Of course I know you’ve been staying with those boys,” she’d replied. “But it was just temporary until we got this Jenna thing sorted out, there was so much scandal. You can come home now,” she said with a queenly air.
“Ma, I’m not coming home,” I sighed. “Graduation’s just around the corner and then I head off to college. Not that I’m not grateful to the Sterlings,” I said hastily. “Please tell Harold and Jake that I really appreciate their contributions to my college education fund.”
In fact, Jake had made it clear that he’d pay full freight for my tuition, relieving me of any burdensome student loan debt. But my plans were changing and if the twins were at the Academy here in San Francisco … suddenly, City College just a block away sounded more and more attractive.
“Honey, just don’t decide anything now,” my mom pleaded. “You’re young, you don’t know yourself.”
I’d merely sighed and nodded in assent, but my mind was buzzing in a totally different direction. I knew myself well enough to know that I was in love with my dark, dangerous twins, and that Blake and Bryan were my future.
So I took their hands in the hospital room, squeezing their big fingers with hope and love.
“What’s next?” I asked softly. “I just wanna get out of here,” I said, looking around at the antiseptic environment. Nauseatingly, there was the unmistakable smell of chemicals in the air, someone’s chemotherapy treatment I was sure.
“We’ll get you out of here as soon as the doctor clears you,” Blake promised, shushing me. “But first … a kiss,” he said, bending low to place soft lips on mine.
And I sighed. This was exactly what I needed after the nightmare of this morning. I returned his kiss with relief, breathing in his woody scent, reveling in the magnetism of his nearness, his maleness, the pure masculine presence.
“Hey, what about me?” teased Bryan lightly. “My turn,” he said, bending down. But Bryan wasn’t kissing my lips … at least not my upper ones. He’d parted my hospital gown so that I was bare before him, my body luscious and nubile, naked before their gaze.
And with one big hand, he parted my thighs so that my slit was on view, the pink pussy lips healthy and plump, beckoning to him.
With a groan, he bent his head and placed a soft kiss onto that quivering womanflesh, my cunny immediately growing wet with need and want.
“Yes,” I breathed. “Yes, please, it’ll make me feel so much better.”
And my boyfriends obliged, stripping the gown off so that I was bare on the gurney, my body fleshy and delicious for their enjoyment. I spread my legs like a slut, begging them to take me, holding my boobs up for their enjoyment.
But the boys had something different in mind.
“Ever played doctor?” asked Blake with a wicked grin. In fact, I’d played a lot of things with them, but never in a hospital setting.
“No,” I said coyly, writhing a bit on the white sheets. “What did you have in mind?”
And Blake whipped out a metal instrument.
“We know you hate medical things, but this looked especially interesting.”
My eyes widened with shock.
“What is that?” I gasped. The tool was long and thin with little pincers at the end.
“Frankly honey, we have no idea,” said Blake lasciviously. “But I know what I want to do with it,” he said with a grin and spread my legs apart further. “Bryan, hold her open,” he directed, and his twin moved forward to spread my cunny, pinning the labia back with his fingers to expose my hot pink wetness, damp, moist and oh-so-juicy.
My clit was so hard and big that it stood up like a little dick, alert, waving almost in the cold hospital air. But I felt hot, overheated in fact, from the gaze of the two men before me.
With careful hands, Blake positioned the pincers right over my clit and seized the trembling nub, squeezing. Gently at first, but then with increasing pressure, he tightened the pincers so that my love bud began growing red and engorged, distended with pleasure.
“Ohhh!” I squealed, looking down between my spread legs. “Oh god!”
My pussy was creaming wetly, leaving a damp spot on the sheets, but the twins weren’t done yet.
“My turn,” said Bryan, brandishing another tool. And I almost screamed when I saw what he held in his hand. It was like a metal tube, clearly meant to go into my vagina. But what set it apart were the ringdings on all sides, tiny buds that would graze my internal channel, make me slime with pleasure.
He held it up before his mouth, breathing hotly on the cold metal.
“Ready little girl?” he asked, his eyes fixated on my cunt. And I parted my legs obediently, spreading them further as Blake continued to pinch my clit. My little hole opened obligingly, gaping and hungry at the prospect of penetration by that huge, metal dong.
But Bryan wasn’t looking at my vag. He pushed my knees up so that my butthole was exposed and positioned the club against my back entrance.
“No!” I shrieked. I couldn’t. That tool wasn’t meant for anal play and I wasn’t ready, my body couldn’t do it.
“Yes, you can,” he said with an evil grin and slowly, oh so slowly, began inserting the metal into my ass.
“Nooo!” I wailed, the pressure intense. I began breathing heavily, rhythmic pants as if I were about to give birth. But really it was to loosen my sphincter, help me deal with the discomfort to come.
Because it hurt, my anus getting dicked by the medical tube. My little pucker stretched and twisted, going from a light pink ruffle of pleats to beet red, contracting between every insistent push by Bryan.
B
ut with an audible pop, he was in. Bryan chuckled and paused for a moment, letting the instrument hang obscenely from my anus, my pussy lube dripping down to coat the instrument.
“You’re a dream come true,” he breathed, looking me in the eye. “Everything Blake and I ever wanted.”
And that’s how I came to play doctor with the twins. Every orifice I had was violated in the space of an hour, the twins’ inventiveness unending and deliciously, delightfully titillating. In the middle of the anal sex, Blake paused for a moment and whipped out a camera, the pincers still dangling from my clit.
“What?” I gasped. “No!”
I knew I looked a mess, nude, my pink bits red and inflamed with all sorts of clamps squeezing and pulling, obscene and sexual at once.
But he merely shushed me.
“You’ve never looked so beautiful,” he soothed, clicking away as the flash popped. “Seriously, we might never get this chance again,” he admonished as the shutter whirred.
And I couldn’t help but pose and preen a bit, loving the attention, the delicious wrongness of what was happening.
“You’re not in any of these,” I’d whined when we were back home, looking over the developed pictures. “I barely see any cock.”
“Baby, you’re a thousand times more beautiful, who would want to see Bryan and I posing naked with medical instruments jammed in our behinds?” asked Blake.
But I knew there were gay mags that would pay a lot of money for that stuff … and all sorts of men and women who would die to see identical twins stuffing each other, lovingly fucking each other’s asses.
“You never know,” I said with a sly smile, a twinkle in my eye. “You never know.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Blake
“So what’s up?” asked our sergeant as we walked into his office. The sarge was a great guy, in his fifties but still buff, a devotee of the gym.
Bryan and I had taken some time off to come by on the precinct on the pretense that we were investigating potential career options. Callie had given us the perfect opening.
“But do you know anything about police work?” she’d asked quizzically. “I mean, walking a beat can be so tiring, so different from school. Is there anyone you could talk to about what it’s like to actually be an officer?”
My twin and I had barely kept a straight face because we were full-fledged police officers, stationed undercover at Canterdale High to ferret out a drug ring. Posing as mid-semester transfers had been pretty easy so far, but it also felt silly to fake anxiety about SATs and college applications when none of that applied to us whatsoever.
“Honey, we’ll stop by the local precinct next week,” I’d promised. “Maybe there’s some cop on a coffee break who could talk to us about his experience on the force.”
And so we had the perfect in. We’d swung by the precinct after classes let out, our backpacks slung casually over our shoulders, nothing more than two high school boys exploring career options.
Thankfully the front desk knew exactly how to treat undercover cops. Our receptionist gave no indication of knowing us despite the fact that she’d seen our mugs every day for the last three years.
“Can I help you?” she’d asked impersonally.
“Sergeant Collins, please,” I said.
“Of course,” she said, dialing upstairs. “Just one moment.”
And we were whisked upstairs, none of our colleagues giving any indication that they knew us as we strode past their desks. I did feel something hit the back of my shoulder and turned quickly to see what it was.
“Psst!” cracked Jack, one of our friends. “You like being in an episode of Grease?” he asked.
I figured he was referring to the movie with John Travolta, when Travolta was way too old to be in high school. But hey, people can suspend disbelief at least temporarily.
“Shut the fuck up,” I growled under my breath. This was so unprofessional, anyone could be watching the exchange.
But at that moment the Sarge appeared at the door to his office and gestured to us. “Come in boys, I’m happy to talk to you about what it’s like to be a police officer,” he said with a believably straight face.
“Come on,” said my brother, shooting Jack a dirty look before disappearing inside the office. And so it was with a relieved sigh that Bryan and I settled into the comfy chairs in front of the desk, letting go of pretense for a change.
“So how’s it going?” asked the Sarge, one eyebrow raised. “How’s that trailer working out for you?”
Oh right. The city budget being what it was, the precinct couldn’t afford to put us up in a rented house or apartment. So they’d installed us in a ramshackle trailer on the edge of the school zone with Sergeant Collins as our supposed “guardian,” our long-lost uncle.
“It’s fine,” I said nonchalantly.
“At least there’s heat and hot water,” my brother quipped.
But the Sarge was suddenly serious.
“How’s the investigation going?” he said. “I’ve got to feed the beasts at City Hall soon. The Adams, parents of victim Brian Adams, have been pressuring the Mayor for results and he’s been knocking on my door,” he said, shaking his head.
I felt bad for our boss. That’s the thing about moving up the management ladder – you barely get a chance to do any actual police work, instead spending all your time managing superiors.
“We got a big break,” said my brother, unzipping his backpack. “We found this.”
And out came an unidentifiable shape wrapped in plastic.
“What the fuck is that?” asked our boss, perplexed.
“Hold your breath,” warned Bryan. “Best to blast the AC, open the windows.”
And my twin set the package on the Sarge’s desk, carefully unrolling our precious cargo. Because despite its gory exterior, it actually contained key evidence. The plastic fell apart to reveal a dead cat, semi-thawed and decomposing, its eyes unseeing, set in an eternal unblinking stare.
“God almighty!” raged our Sarge. “This better be good, you’ve just stunk up my office.”
“Just give it a sec boss,” I chimed in, as my brother continued with the honors. Because now he’d snapped on a pair of gloves and was pulling the cat’s abdomen apart … to reveal five packets stuffed with white powder.
“Oh shit,” breathed Collins. “Is that what I think it is?”
“Probably, yeah,” smirked my brother. “It’s likely heroin or cocaine, packaged conveniently into a dead animal where no one would think to look.”
“How did you get your hands on this?” asked our boss.
My brother shrugged. “Luck, more than anything. Our lab partner fainted during the dissection and we ended up having to do a weekend make-up. During the make-up, there must have been some mix-up when it came to the specimen and we got this instead,” he said, gesturing to the dead cat.
“Shit, who’s transporting this stuff?” said the Sarge, a disgusted look on his face. “I mean, what the fuck, are they killing animals to use as couriers?”
“My guess is no,” I said. “You can order these things on-line, they’re shipped straight to the school. My guess is the dealer is connected to the school in some way, intercepting the cats without anyone noticing, and then stuffing them full before retrieving the goods for final retail.”
“It’s gotta be that fucking science teacher,” growled our boss. “Grimes did you say his name was?”
“Nah, it’s not Grimes,” I said confidently. “No one running a drug ring could be so dumb as to accidentally lose track of goods the way this dealer did.” And I meant it. There had to be at least 5Gs worth of pure cocaine in there.
“So it’s someone else then,” mused our boss. “Any other leads?”
“Still working on it,” I said promptly. “Give us some time, we’ll crack it Sarge,” I said confidently.
“Well speed it up, I can’t keep City Hall off our backs for much longer,” said our boss. “Two weeks max an
d I’ve got to say something.”
“We’ll have it solved by then,” my brother chimed with assurance. “Trust us, we have a secret weapon,” he winked.
And I knew he was referring to our girl, our lover, our everything … Callie.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Callie
My lovers strode in the door, confident, their pace unhurried, warm grins for me as they set down their backpacks.
“So how’d it go?” I asked anxiously. “Was someone available to talk with you? What did you think?”
Truth is, I was kind of anxious about the twins going to the precinct. On the one hand, I absolutely respected Bryan and Blake’s decision to apply to the Academy. There’s nothing sexier than a man in blue, and my lovers have the intellectual and physical chops to be police officers. But on the other, I was concerned about the danger. As rookies on the force they’d be assigned to the toughest beats, patrolling housing projects, the Tenderloin, places where random gunshots still rang out at night.
“It was great,” said Blake easily. “There were a couple guys off-duty, they were only too happy to spend a couple minutes shooting the shit about their jobs.”
“What did they say?” I asked anxiously. “Did they tell you what the hours are like, whether you’ll have a gun, all that kind of stuff?”
That’d made Bryan laugh.
“Of course we’d have guns, honey. Even SFPD doesn’t expect you to go out there unarmed, like a volunteer neighborhood watch or something. In fact,” he said, leaning forward, “Small arms weapons combat is probably going to be my favorite module.”
And I smiled tremulously. Again, I was happy for the boys because they were going to make an honest living doing something they clearly had the aptitude for. I just didn’t want them getting hurt.
“Okay,” I said softly. “Just so long as you’re sure.”
Anonymous Encounters (The Billionaires Club Book 5) Page 19