Anonymous Encounters(44)

"Keep going, brother," groaned my twin. "Her mouth tightens when she's got dick up her butt."

And so I eased myself in further, caressing her GI tract with my veiny  length, pulling in and out, watching with avid hunger as her little hole  struggled against the assault of my cock.

"That's it, little girl, that's how you take it," I encouraged roughly,  my big hands circling her tiny waist. And I savored the visual of that  round, juicy rump, plump and trembling as I violated her ass, her pussy  dripping wetly down her thigh. God, this girl was the answer to our  dreams.

I want to say that I lasted for hours, but the dry, tight friction was  too much and I could feel the pressure building in my balls, the  unmistakable crescendo of release.

"Get ready, brother," I panted, hissing slightly. "I'm about to  … "

With a massive roar, I unleashed, the cream spurting forcefully up the  little girl's butt, spraying her insides with hot male jism. My brother  found his end as well and his groans joined mine as he orgasmed, his  sperm filling Callie's mouth with white, choking her, the goo seeping  from the corners of her mouth as she gasped futilely.

But this was exactly how we liked to see our girl. Filled with life  force from both sides, branding her a Hanson girl. Because Callie would  be ours  …  to keep.





CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE


Callie




The last few weeks have been an unbelievable whirlwind. Despite the fact  that Blake and Brian busted a major San Francisco drug ring, life  continued as usual on the outside. There were no newspaper stories, no  TV spots, not even an article in Canterdale High's school paper. Like  true undercovers, their work was best done out of the spotlight and  there would be no recognition for their brilliance.

But I was determined to reward them in my own way. I was in love with  these two men, these hotly bisexual twins who rang my every bell and  whistle. Our lovemaking had reached new heights after the bust at the  Adams house, and the little trailer shook each night with our moans, the  scent of sex so strong that it was a permanent musk in our home.

And I took comfort in the arms of my two lovers. Because the Walsh  family had truly fallen apart, and I'd given up trying to explain my  situation to my mom.

"Ma, I'm getting married," I said abruptly one day at brunch. "And I'm  not going to college." Might as well drop both bombs at once.

"What do you mean?" she said, an ugly expression on her face. "Don't  tell me it's to that twin  …  or one of the twins. How can they provide  for you? They're high school boys," she said, her face twisted in scorn.

"Ma, you don't need to worry about us," I said shortly. "Not that you do," I added under my breath.

But my mom went on like nothing had changed.

"Don't you want to be a part of the Sterlings' world?" she asked  plaintively. "You'll never fit in with a blue collar husband," she said.

I sighed. She hadn't even asked which twin I was getting married to, it  mattered so little. All that mattered was social standing and making  sure that her upcoming wedding to Harold Sterling was the talk of the  town. If I showed up on the arm of a police officer, she was sure the  world would blow up, that people would talk about her "lowly  connections."

I shook my head again, exasperated.

"We'll be fine, okay Ma?" I said tiredly. "We won't ask for money, I promise."

"Money!" she screeched. "Who said anything about money? I never offered you any financial help."

"Right," I said slowly.

"What about the Gordons?" she said. "I know you're close with their  daughter Chrissy. What do they think about your upcoming nuptials?"

This was going to be hard to break. The Gordons had been like a second  set of parents to me, surrogates in light of my own dysfunctional clan.  My eyes filled with tears because they were nothing like I'd imagined  –   they'd been running a drug ring in the city, with Canterdale High as a  drop-off and distribution point.         

     



 

And their daughter Chrissy, my best friend. She'd been in on it all  along, acting as a courier for her parents, getting rich on the backs of  high school junkies.

"Chrissy, why?" I'd asked plaintively, visiting her in jail. She was to  be tried as a juvenile, her case bifurcated from her parents. "Why did  you guys do this?"

She'd shrugged, her blonde hair glossy even in the dim light of the  county jail. Her expression was haughty but she wouldn't meet my eyes.

"Why else?" she sniffed. "Money. We needed it, we couldn't keep up with  everyone else in St. Francis Wood, so Mom and Dad decided to go for it,"  she shrugged. "I can't help that Brian Adams and Tyler Needham got  addicted. It was their own fault," she snapped.

"But you didn't have to work for your parents," I said slowly. "You didn't have to make drug dealing a family business."

"I know," she tossed off nonchalantly. "But Valerie didn't join and look  what happened to her? A junkie in rehab without a penny to her name."

That was true. Valerie had been in bad shape since her rescue, entering a  live-in addiction center in Southern California, her health precarious.  But at least there were no charges pending against Valerie, even the DA  recognized that she'd caught a bad break.

"Valerie made her choices, and they were hard ones," I said slowly. "But   … " I shook my head. "Why didn't you tell someone? Why did keep this  secret? I would have helped you get out."

"Oh please Callie," blew Chrissy impatiently. "Please, your family is a  bigger mess than mine, your sister a so-called porn star, your other  sister stole her fiancé, all that shit. So don't tell me what to do,"  she snapped.

A stricken look on my face, I turned to go. This was a total one-eighty.  Chrissy and the Gordons had always been so kind to me, but I guess it  had always been a farce. I suppose they'd never cared about me, I was  just an innocent school friend who provided a layer of normalcy to cover  their deception.

"Okay," I said slowly, as the guard arrived at the gate. "I guess this  is goodbye then," I said. "But I wanted to let you know  …  I'm getting  married to Blake Hanson."

"Oh good," snarked Chrissy. "That leaves Bryan for me."

I shook my head again. The cold, hard facts obviously still hadn't  penetrated Chrissy's head yet. She didn't realize that she was looking  at five years in the slammer minimum. Sentencing was tough, even for  minors.

Softly I murmured, "Goodbye Chrissy," turning to leave.

But only silence followed me, echoing in the jail cell. I really was dead to my closest friend, our ties severed forever.





EPILOGUE


Callie




Nothing will bring Tyler Needham and Brian Adams back. They live on in  our memories as nice boys who met untimely deaths, Brian on the football  field and Tyler after an unexplained fainting spell. Only a few know  the terrible truth  –  that they were innocent boys drawn into a dark web  of greed, lies, and crime.

I wish things had worked out differently, I really do, but at least the  crisis has changed my life for the better. I've learned who's really on  my side and who's just using me as a pawn. Unfortunately, the world is  filled with people who don't give a shit about you, whether real or  surrogate families.

So I'm lucky that I have my husbands with me, twin bedrocks of solace  and support. Although I was only able to marry Blake at City Hall, in  fact we have a very workable threesome, Bryan, Blake and I. I still  remember the ceremony. I walked towards Blake in a wispy white dress,  escorted by Bryan. The city official looked at me askance when I didn't  let go of Bryan's arm at the altar.

"Ms.  …  um, Ms. Walsh," he stuttered. "You realize you can only marry one man?"

"Of course," I said sweetly. "But Bryan means just as much to me as Blake and we're three witnesses to this holy covenant."

The official shrugged helplessly. He'd seen all sorts of kooks in San  Francisco and it was no crime to have an additional observer at the  altar.         

     



 

So when he'd pronounced us man and wife I hadn't hesitated to give Blake  a kiss, and then turn and lock lips with Brian as well, our breaths  mingling hotly, the sensation bringing my toes to a curl.

"Mmm, wifey," he murmured, his lips hungry on mine, "you taste delicious."

"Mine too," rumbled Blake from the other side, his hand possessive on my  hip, trailing slowly to my bottom, squeezing the juicy flesh there.

"Boys," I giggled. "I belong to both of you because I'm addicted."

And it's true. My addiction to the Hanson twins is a raging infliction  …  that will never be cured.

THE END





The Dirty Virgin