by S. E. Law
It’s sad that we even had to go through that, but in the decades since World War II, my family has built the business up into a global fashion brand. Our goods are coveted, exquisite, and extraordinarily expensive. Our purses are often seen on the arms of princesses, A-list actresses, and Arabian sheikas. We have a policy not to sell to reality TV stars because we don’t want our goods tarnished by their less-than-stellar reputations.
After all, a business is a business, and image is important to the bottom line. We only want to be known as the best of the best, and many Instagram stars just aren’t ready for our brand of luxury.
But even though the House of Permian has been successful beyond our wildest dreams, my twin Rev has always been unhappy. Why or with what, I don’t know. Our parents made him the head of marketing, and yet he wasn’t satisfied. He was demanding, rude, and more than a little contemptuous of our parents’ work ethic. He’s always had a condescending air that some people label as “confidence.” I see it as a mask for his insecurity.
Plus, after our parents died, Rev decided to leave the House of Permian in order to start his own company. I expected him to fail, to be honest, but he’s done surprisingly well with Jem Vape. I guess vaping products are the next big thing, and they’re all over the place now. Every bodega in New York carries Jem e-lighters, and you often see teens and adults alike vaping as they stride down the sidewalk.
Yet, I know that the business has yet to turn a profit. It’s privately held still, so no one knows just how in the red Rev is, but so far, marketing and manufacturing costs have vastly outstripped sales. Plus, vaping has recently come under fire from a number of government agencies. Although vaping was originally marketed as nicotine substitution for adult smokers, it seems that a lot of kids are attracted by the fun fruit flavors. Slowly but surely, they’re becoming the next generation of addicts. As a result, Rev has a lot on his hands, and he’s likely got some fierce fights before him before Jem Vape is going to be able to really take off.
Which makes his date all the more surprising. I had no idea that Rev even had time to date, to be honest. Between handling inquiries from the government, litigation from angry parents, and the demands of a start-up, I thought Rev was holed up at the office 24/7. But instead, he’s shown up at my Valentine’s Day party with the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.
Catherine or Cat, as he introduced her, is blonde with cornflower blue eyes and an innocent expression. She’s got a peaches and cream complexion, as well as a curvy figure that makes me drool. Her assets are practically bursting from her tight red dress, and the hem stops above her knee so that I get a glimpse of pale thigh and long legs ending in red stilettos.
“Um hi,” she stammers while growing pink. “I’m Cat.”
“I’m Reed,” I say, shaking her hand. Her small, soft palm practically disappears into my huge one. Is it my imagination, or are there sparks in the air between us? She blushes and jerks her hand back a little, and I know our chemistry isn’t just in my head.
But what the hell is a girl like this doing with my twin? Rev is usually a rat bastard when it comes to women, and he has a type. I like to call it High Class Trailer Trash, meaning that the ladies may have a lot of money, but somehow they come off as trailer trash all the same. It doesn’t matter if they’re wearing a ten thousand dollar dress with fancy salon highlights in their hair. Trailer trash is trailer trash no matter how you pretty it up.
Plus, I’ve never felt an ounce of attraction to my brother’s usual type. In fact, most of the time I run the other way because when they see me and Rev together, their eyes light up. A lot of these women think banging twins would be something they’d like to experience, but unfortunately, I don’t like the coked-out, stringy-thin look. I like them curvy and ripe, with a dose of sass and a swing of wide hips.
“So, did Rev say anything about me?” I ask while leading Catherine into the apartment. The party’s pretty raucous around us, but I can sense Cat stopping to stare in awe at the space. I have a magnificent penthouse on the top floor of the old Equitable Building, and I’ve spared no expense doing it up. Floor-to-ceiling windows show off the Manhattan skyline, and expensive art is scattered throughout the giant living area. Black leather couches dot the marble floors, and the piece de la resistance is a Picasso that I picked up at auction in the center of the room. His work is undeniable and Catherine’s eyes go wide when she sees it.
“Um, I’m sorry? Oh right. No, Rev never said anything about having a brother, and especially not a twin brother. We’ve only been dating a few months, but he’s never mentioned you, which is a little strange. Where is he, anyways?” Catherine asks, looking around futilely. My brother has disappeared into the crowd, leaving his date alone, which is just like him. He can be such a rude asshole sometimes.
“No worries. I’m sure he’s around. It’s good to finally meet you at last,” I say. “Can I get you something to drink?”
A server comes by bearing a silver tray of champagne flutes.
“Here,” I say, lifting one and handing it to her. “Enjoy some bubbly on this special day.”
She blushes and takes the champagne flute from my hand before lifting it to her lips. But then she puts it back down quietly, and giggles.
“I’m sorry, where are my manners? We should drink together.”
I nod, and raise a black eyebrow before lifting my flute towards hers to clink lightly.
“To the most beautiful woman in the room,” I growl, seizing her blue eyes with my own. The passion between us is electrifying, even though we’re currently in a room filled with laughing, chatting people. “It’s good to finally meet you, Catherine.”
She blushes and her pink pout opens a bit, as if she’s going to say something. But instead, Cat merely nods and takes a sip of her champagne. I watch as she swallows, and wonder what it would be like to feel that throat pulsing around myself. Magnificent, most likely.
“I should go find Rev,” she says a little awkwardly before meeting my eye. Shoot. Her gaze is the most innocent, cornflower blue and my heart breaks a bit. This woman is naïve and untested, so what is my brother doing with her? He likes his women experienced and brittle, whereas Cat is soft and womanly. Shit. Somehow, I know that Rev’s up to no good. He’s going to bring heartbreak on this girl, and it’s just a question of whether it happens sooner or later.
But I push these thoughts to the back of my mind. It’s not my place to say anything, even as my chest tightens and my throat goes dry.
“Sure,” I manage in a neutral voice. “I’m sure Rev’s around somewhere. My apartment’s only five thousand square feet, so Rev can’t have gotten far. I’ll see you around,” I say.
The blonde bites her lip and nods, and then turns and slips into the crowd in search of my twin. The problem is that I want to protect Catherine from what’s coming, but is that even possible with my brother in the way?
83
Catherine
The crowd around me seems to pulse and morph, making me dizzy. The music is too loud and I feel a little wobbly as I wander around the apartment, looking for Rev.
Where is my boyfriend anyways? Okay, we never had “the Talk” where we agreed to be exclusive, but I’ve been referring to him as my boyfriend for months now. Plus, he brought me to this party, at his brother’s loft, which is also a Valentine’s Day shindig. So aren’t I his girlfriend now? If I’m not, then what am I?
But the night is only growing more and more confusing. Rev’s gone missing, and although Reed said that the apartment’s “only” five thousand feet, five thousand feet in New York City is actually a lot. This place seems to have endless rooms. I pass by the kitchen, and then do a double take because right beside it is another kitchen filled with people laughing and talking. Servers in stiff white shirts and black pants circulate with trays of canapes in their hands. More than one guest looks inebriated, although they’re all dressed well in expensive-looking clothes.
“Um, excuse me,” I mutter
as I pass a couple making out in the hallway. Weird. All these people look like they’re the elite upper crust of New York, and yet they’re behaving like teenagers in some coming-of-age movie. Why can’t they get a room? Literally, why can’t they pay for a hotel room, when it’s clearly in their budget and there are billions of hotels in New York?
I pass what looks like a billiards room with a group of handsome men playing pool while smoking cigars. Then I pass a movie theater that has twenty plush seats inside and a projector. Right now, it looks like the crowd is watching Elf, even though it’s not Christmas, and I’m tempted to join them. Will Ferrell is funny in that yellow and green costume, and Elf is a hilarious movie that always has me in stitches.
But this isn’t the time because I need to find Rev. I pass a hallway with what seems like endless doors, but I don’t touch any of the doorknobs, nor do I peek inside. As I tiptoe on the plush carpeting, there are definitely moans of pleasure and delighted sighs, so I couldn’t possibly poke my head in and demand, “Where’s my boyfriend?” Instead, I wander to the back where there’s one last door.
The door looks normal enough, at least. It’s made of a dark wood, and fortunately, there are no sounds. I lightly knock, and there’s a woman speaking inside, although I can’t make out the words.
“Rev?” I ask. “Hi, this is Catherine. Are you in there?”
He must hear me because all of a sudden a baritone voice sounds out. But instead of saying come in, it’s saying something like, “The lighting’s right.”
What? Why would Rev say that? Then again, his words are muffled through the thick wooden barrier, so I test the doorknob. It’s unlocked, and slowly, I inch the door open.
“Rev?” I ask in an inquisitive voice while plastering a smile on my face. “Why did you leave me alone at the party? You know I don’t know anyone here.”
But then my voice drops to nothing and my eyes practically bug out of my head because Rev is in the room, alright. But my boyfriend obviously meant something by “the lighting is right” because at the moment, he’s banging a woman on a bed as they film the entire escapade. I try to say something, but the words stop in my chest. What the hell is going on? My stomach heaves and my head spins because my boyfriend is cheating on me, and I’m going to pass out as a result.
84
Catherine
I wish I had passed out because it would have been better than staring at the horrible scene in front of me. Rev lies on the mattress, his big form on its back while some crazy lady rides him rodeo-style.
“Yee-haw!” she screams, her blonde hair flying. “Look, look, look! I’m a cowgirl!”
Who says that in the middle of passion? Yet, I can see that Rev’s enjoying it. He lets out a loud moan as she bounces up and down on his hard rod, his man meat squelching every time it disappears into her.
“Yee-haw!” she screams again. “It feels so gooooood!”
“Baby, can the camera see you in that position?” Rev grunts below her. “Here, lean forward more so that the audience has a better view.”
The woman does as asked and leans over so that her bottom lifts up in the air. I can literally see everything as my boyfriend’s hot rod disappears again and again into her body, and that’s when I let out a gasp. Oh my god, his rod isn’t disappearing into her kitty, it’s disappearing into her ass! He’s drilling her the back way, and this woman is taking it like a champ.
“Yee-HAW!” she screams again. Fortunately, she’s turned away from me, so she can’t see the way that I’m staring at them with horror. Rev’s in the throes of ecstasy, so he wouldn’t notice if World War III started right now in this room. But as I watch with my mouth agape, suddenly the woman stops bucking wildly and instead lifts a hand to cup her ear.
“Oh my god, they’re applauding,” she cries. “Look at the laptop, big boy! Oh my god, we’re getting so many comments! We’re popular!” she shrieks with glee while starting to bounce up and down again, that huge pole disappearing between her pale moons.
My gaze swings over to the laptop they have by the bed, and then my jaw drops to the floor because they’re livestreaming the action. But it doesn’t seem like this is a normal livestream with anonymous users. Instead, it seems like the people watching are in a darkened auditorium somewhere. Where though? The ho riding my boyfriend lets out another shriek, and sure enough, there’s a burst of applause from the screen in addition to some raunchy cat calls.
My head’s spinning because the cat calls seem to echo abnormally. They’re coming from the laptop, which is to be expected, but they’re also coming a second later from somewhere behind me. Suddenly, a horrible realization dawns, and I rush down the hallway back to the mini-auditorium.
I look inside the darkened area, and sure enough, Elf and Will Ferrell are long gone. The viewers are now watching Rev and his woman do the bottom-bang up on the huge projection screen.
“Yee-HAW!” she screams again, their naked forms up close and personal. Oh my god, you can literally see the mole Rev has on his inner thigh because they’re in high-def. “You like this, my babies?” the woman wails with ecstasy.
A few men in the crowd roar with appreciation, and the loud sound of clapping erupts in my ears.
“You go girl!” one guy bellows while raising his champagne flute in the air. “Show the ladies here how it’s done!”
“Oh my god, Randy, you’re being such a pervert,” a girl nearby giggles, even as she stares at the screen. I have to admit, the sight is filthy. Rev’s tool is enormous, and the woman’s hole is dark and small. Yet she seems to be taking him into her coffee star again and again with no problem, swallowing up that huge length like it’s nothing more than a soda straw.
“Oh my god,” moans another man nearby, his eyes fixated on the screen. “This is the best movie ever.”
At that moment, the camera zooms onto Rev’s face which is tense with ecstasy.
“Oh baby,” he manages in a groan. “Oh fuck yeah.”
That’s when I lose it. I start screaming and running all at once. The people in the theater turn to stare at me, but I’ve already dashed down the hallway to the bedroom and flung open the door.
“Get off him!” I scream at the woman, uncaring that this is all being videotaped. “What the hell! Rev! Rev! It’s me, Catherine!”
At that moment, Rev reaches his climax and his hips jerk up in the air as power courses through his form. Hot jets of virility pulse into the bucking woman, and she screams too, her eyes wide and crazy as she continues to ride.
“Yee-HAW!” is her exuberant yelp.
At that, I lose it. I literally run into the room and begin wrestling this woman off of my boyfriend. She’s slick and skinny with fake, oversized tits that look as hard as lemons. As I pull her off my boyfriend, she struggles with a surprised look on her face.
“Yee-HAW!” she screams again, right into my face.
“What the hell?” I scream right back. “Can’t you say anything other than yee-haw, bitch? Take this!” I shout before slapping her across the face.
But to my surprise, it’s like she doesn’t even feel it. Her head snaps to the left, and stringy blonde hair flies out and covers her features so that I can’t see her expression. Yet, her body continues to buck and to my surprise, another faint “Yee-haw” erupts from her mouth.
What the hell is going on? I can hear footsteps pounding in the hallway as well as some surprised gasps from the audience on the laptop. They can see and hear everything that’s going on, and some folks are likely running over at this very minute to break up the fight.
Yet all I see is red because how dare she? How dare this ho ride my boyfriend on TV at a Valentine’s Day party, no less?
But to my horror, Rev’s eyes clear then, his body relaxed and panting, and he scowls at me. His pole is likely still buried deep in this woman’s back end, but instead of apologizing profusely, he merely grunts.
“What the hell, Cat? What the fuck are you doing?”
“
What am I doing?” I gasp. “What the hell are you doing with this nasty ho?”
He merely closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose, as if I’ve pained him.
“You’ve come at a bad time,” he says. “In case you can’t tell.”
Heat rises to my face and I almost go blind with rage.
“I can tell, for your information, but what the hell? Who is this?” I ask, pointing to the skinny blonde who’s still looking dazed as she continues to bump up and down on Rev’s body. “What is wrong with you? Get off, you ho!”
This time, when I look into my nemesis’s eyes, I can tell she’s stoned. This woman is on something, and it’s not my business to figure out what. At that moment, she collapses on Rev’s chest, her skinny form sprawling in an ungainly heap on his brawny chest, and he shoots her a look of disgust.
“Junkies,” he grunts. “They always pass out at the wrong time.”
But now, my vision has gone black and I’m so angry that I could spit nails.
“What is this?” I ask, gesturing to the woman and then the video camera. “You realize that you’re streaming this to your brother’s auditorium? That people are watching you back-drill this nasty ass whore while she screams yee-haw over and over again? What the hell?”
He merely sighs again while looking with disgust at his partner in crime, who’s passed out in a limp heap.
“Listen, it wasn’t supposed to happen like this, but the opportunity came along,” he begins.
“What opportunity?” I cry. “To make X-rated videos for other people to watch?”