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Double Exposure: A Dark MMF Bisexual Romance
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Double Exposure
~A Dark MMF Bisexual Romance~
© 2017
By Cassandra Dee
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© 2017 Cassandra Dee
All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters are all products of the author's imagination.
Please note that this work is intended only for adults over the age of 18 and all characters are represented as 18 or over.
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
Double Exposure
NOTE FROM CASSIE
ALSO BY CASSANDRA DEE
Scandal
Crazy
Obsessed
DEDICATION
For all the little girls who wake up hungry for two men.
CHAPTER ONE
Brian
It was awful. Completely fucking fucked-up awful. I was at a family dinner with my wife’s family, and I couldn’t stop thinking of her little sister. Angie hadn’t even made an appearance yet, it was just my wife, her mom, and me sitting around the kitchen table, making small talk before the meal started. But still, all I could think about was my wife’s younger sister, sweet, delectable, and everything that I wanted.
So I was jolted from my daydream when my mother in law spoke.
“Brian,” simpered Jane. “How’s your job going?” she asked, handing me a beer.
Gratefully, I took the PBR. With the way my wife’s been acting lately, it was gonna take more than one of these to make it through the night. But pasting a smile on my face, I replied politely.
“Business is good,” I said smoothly. “We’re busy, which is always good.”
My mother in law smiled beatifically.
“We were so happy when you started working downtown with that handsome lawyer friend of yours. How’s he doing? I imagine all the women must flock to your firm these days.”
I shot my ancient mother in law an amused glance. My law partner Jed is a handsome bastard, for sure, and women swarm him like honeybees. But even worse, Jed isn’t exactly a moral guy and these so-called clients were getting a lot more than legal advice most times.
But Jane didn’t need to know that. My mother-in-law, despite having a viper for a daughter, is a great lady, kind, always with some home-baked cookies on hand. So I was courteous, leaving out the gory details.
“We get all sorts of business, good and bad,” I rumbled vaguely. “We’re always happy to be a resource.”
Jane clucked.
“It’s just so perfect, we were so happy when you two got married,” she said, nodding at Hannah and me. “Every family needs a lawyer you know, there are just so many problems these days! What was it your cousin wanted to ask about?” she asked, turning towards my wife. “What was that legal question she had for Brian?”
But my wife couldn’t be bothered to answer, Hannah was gazing at herself in her compact, examining herself from a million angles. I have to admit, the blonde’s a beautiful woman and that’s a huge part of the reason why I married her. But that was a miscalculation on my part because unfortunately, looks don’t carry over to good conversation and seems like I was late figuring that out, distracted by her tight, hot twat and big boobies.
“Hannah,” said her mom a little sharply this time. “Please don’t be rude. What was it that your cousin wanted to know? The question she had for Brian?”
My wife let out a dramatic sigh and set down her compact with a thunk, the plates on the table rattling.
“What’s your problem Ma?” she whined, pursing those ruby red lips. “What’s your problem? How am I supposed to know what someone else wants?” Once upon a time those lips had felt fantastic around my dick, but it’d been ages since that had happened. Instead, we’re pretty much sleeping in different rooms these days. Or more accurately, my wife had taken over the master, doing it up in pink frills and lace, and I’d been relegated to the couch in my office. In some ways it was better since the drone of the TV in the background helped knock me out, putting me out of my misery.
But my mother in law was frowning at her daughter now.
“Hannah,” she said again. “Your cousin needed legal advice. She asked you specifically to ask Brian. Now what was it she needed help with?”
Hannah pursed her lips again.
“Oh I think it was her divorce,” she said casually, waving a hand in the air. “She wants to find some way to find her ex’s assets. You know Gunther,” added Hannah salaciously. “He’s always had women on the side, who knows what else he’s hiding.”
In my practice, I see everything, but still, my wife’s callous attitude towards her cousin’s predicament was pretty shocking. And her mom agreed.
“Hannah,” said her mom sharply once more. “Not everyone is as lucky as you, with a good husband like Brian, so watch your mouth. There’s no need to gloat over someone else’s problems.”
I remained totally still. With the thoughts I’ve been having about my wife’s younger sister lately, I couldn’t exactly be called a “good husband.” Shit, even now visions of Angie’s delectable assets swam before my mind’s eye, those big boobies swaying to and fro, that beautiful pink pout, kissable and lush. Down boy! I warned myself. Down boy! Wrong place, wrong time! There can’t be a worse place for acting like a horny dog, lusting after your little in-law.
But they can’t put you in jail for your brain, so I kept my expression bland and unreadable.
“I’m sure Hannah’s stressed right now,” I said smoothly. “We’re trying to get pregnant,” more to change the subject than anything else. Of course we weren’t trying to get pregnant, there’s been no sex for ages, but the words had their intended effect.
“Oh you are?” exclaimed Jane, hands flying up to her mouth. “You are, you are? Oh my goodness, that makes me so happy to have a third generation on the way! My, oh my!”
Hannah shot me a dirty look, there’s no way my wife was interested in kids with the weight gain, the morning sickness, not to mention the responsibilities of caring for a tiny, fragile human being. But before she could cut her mom’s dream short, a loud gasp interrupted our conversation from over by the hallway.
And sure enough, I turned to see Angie standing there, the stuff of dreams. The sweet girl was the opposite of her sister, a complete one eighty. Hannah was slim when we dated but in anticipation of the wedding, she went on some crazy diet and lost even more weight. I figured it was new bride jitters to look nice for the photos, and the pounds would come right back on after the honeymoon. But no. My wife kept on with the program, spending five hundred bucks per week on this damn Medi-Spa program and got even thinner. The woman’s a rail now, her limbs frail and bony, making me shudder. All the better to sleep in my office, so as not to feel spider’s feet brushing against me.
But her sister’s different. Eighteen and nubile, Angie’s curvy and plump, ripe all over. I could hardly tear my eyes from the huge tits pushing at that soft sweater, the wide hips that curved into a giant bubble butt. Fuck! I raged at myself again. Shit, you wanna go to jail? How fucked-up
is this?
But Jane interrupted, jerking me back to reality.
“Angie,” gushed my mother-in-law. “Come in, Brian just told us that he and your sister are expecting! Isn’t that wonderful?”
The brunette didn’t reply, instead shooting me an agonized glance before turning on her heel and running up the stairs, brown curls flying, footsteps pattering on the stairs. If I wasn’t mistaken, Angie was distressed at the thought that I was fucking her sister, that Hannah and I actually got naked and horny. Good thing it was all lies, but I couldn’t exactly set her straight at the moment. Right now, it was just a mess, a twist of half-truths and deception to keep my mother-in-law happy.
“Hmm, that’s weird,” mused Jane. “Why did she run off like that? Angie’s so good with kids, you think she’d be excited that her sister’s expecting.”
That’s when I cut in.
“Jane, we’re not expecting,” I growled, fixing her with a look. “Not yet anyways. We’re just trying.”
Hannah interrupted then as well.
“We don’t expect to get pregnant anytime soon, in fact,” she said vaguely, waving a hand in the air. “You know Brian’s sperm count is low, the doctor said he has to go in for tests.”
I stared at my wife, flabbergasted and more than a little angry. No such thing had happened, and goddammit, my sperm count was not low, there was nothing the matter with my little swimmers. But I know how Hannah’s mind works. She was setting us up for failure, with my alleged “infertility” as the culprit. That way, she had some excuse to stay thin and self-involved, nothing so troublesome as a baby in her life.
But Jane was already distracted.
“You have a low sperm count?” she asked, aghast. “Oh my god, we have to get you to the right doctors. I’ve only got two daughters you know, and if you’re out then I don’t know what we’ll do. Hannah’s our only hope right now, Angie’s so young still.”
I didn’t add that Angie was eighteen and at peak female fertility. That ripe, curvy body was perfect for carrying a baby, much better suited than Hannah’s twenty-five year old stick thin frame. Fuck, I’d burst in the curvy brunette’s pussy if I got within five feet of the girl, my little swimmers would find their way to her sweet ovaries without any help at all.
But again, this wasn’t the time or place for my putrid thoughts.
“Oh my goodness!” wailed Jane again. “I’m gonna ask Debbie next door for that fertility specialist’s name, the sooner you get to see him the better Brian,” she rushed in her panic. “Fertility issues! This has to be a modern-era problem, no one back in my day had fertility issues, people had their two kids no problem. Oh goodness!”
And I shook my head, tired already. Because I have no ailments to speak of, as far as I know I’m healthy as a horse. It was her daughter playing Jane, twisting the story so that once again, it’d be all my fault. Not only that, but it’d get her mom off her back for a while, Jane would be fixated on me and my alleged issues, distracting her from the truth.
So I cut in again.
“Jane, I’m fine,” I said soothingly, shooting my wife a look. “I’m totally fine, but I’ll see the doctor if that’s what you want.”
“Definitely!” my in-law hyperventilated. “Definitely, it’s a necessity!”
I nodded calmly.
“Absolutely then, if that’s what makes you happy. But trust me,” I said, shooting my wife another hard look, “there’s nothing at all wrong with me. Nothing at all.”
Jane nodded, her chin trembling, aged hands twisted on the kitchen table.
“I hope so,” she murmured, eyes tearing. “Because I’ve wanted grandchildren for so long, and now to hear this!” she sighed. “Goodness!”
I took her frail hand in mine.
“Don’t worry, it’ll be okay. Everything will be okay,” I soothed.
Jane nodded once more.
“I hope so, I’m looking forward to the pitter-patter of more tiny feet. Lord, help me!” she wailed, face crumpling.
I could have hung around to soothe her fears more, to be a crutch for a tiny old lady, but enough was enough. I stood, rising to my full height inside the tiny kitchen.
“I’m so sorry, but I’ve just been called to my office,” I said, furrowing my forehead, looking down at my cell and scrolling like there was something urgent. “Important case.”
Jane immediately stood, her mind flitting to this new thing.
“Of course!” she said, bustling around the kitchen. “Let me put some food together for you, dinner’s already ready, I’ll just throw in some chicken and greens, it’ll be tasty and hot.”
Unlike her mom, Hannah sat at the table still, barely even looking up.
“When you come in don’t wake me up,” she said in a bored voice, examining her nails this time. “I’ll leave the front door unlocked.”
And that pretty much sums up my married life. Hannah would be in bed, snoozing away, getting her beauty sleep as I got home late from work again. I’d let myself into the house, have a couple beers and sit myself down on the couch in my office, flicking on some porn. And after a couple minutes, the vids do their work. Oh yeah, I’ll find a brunette who looks just like Angie, curvy, ripe, nubile, with a big, hot butt and jiggling tits. And stroking myself, I’ll erupt, the white trailing all over the couch, making a mess on the rug while gasping her name.
Pretty nasty right? Dreaming of my sister-in-law, an eighteen year-old virgin while I’m supposed to be fucking her sister. But it’s the only thing I’ve got, the only thing that keeps me going from day to day. So I do it. Yeah, I’ve stroked myself to visions of Angie so many times now, it’s pretty much a nightly routine. And you know what? I fuckin’ love it. The only thing that one of these days, I’m gonna come in that sweet, hot cunt for real … whether or not I’m married to her sister.
CHAPTER TWO
Angie
My body went limp when I heard the words.
“Brian and Hannah are expecting!” shrieked my mom at the kitchen table. “I’m going to be a grandmammy!”
I’d stood in the doorway, shaking like a leaf, eyes fixated on the big man. Because that’s what Brian is. He’s huge, gorgeous, and everything that I’ve ever wanted in a male. But that’s the problem. Brian’s everything I’ve always wanted, except he already belongs to my sister.
I remember the first time Hannah brought him home. She’s seven years older than me, so I was just a little girl, and the crush came fast and hard. Brian had come straight from work to our house, and he was so tall, imposing and devastatingly gorgeous that I trembled in my shoes, pussy going moist. I wasn’t even sure what was happening at first, my body’s reaction was so unexpected. I’d been sure Brian was gonna be another one of Hannah’s dudes, dirty-looking with a backwards baseball cap and a grimy rock t-shirt.
But Brian was a real professional, wearing an immaculate suit with a confident, commanding air. And even more than that was the look of understanding in his eyes, how he really “saw” me, and didn’t skate over my form like a fly on the wall.
“Brian, this is my little sister Angie,” said Hannah sweetly, pointing at me. “She’s going through an awkward phase,” she added in a nasty stage whisper.
Bitch then, and bitch now. My sister’s always been so beautiful, all guys like her, even teachers and animals like her. But she’s got a lump of coal for a heart because she’s never been nice to me, not even once. Even when I was a baby, Hannah would grab things away from me, hiding them under the couch, and pretending she had no idea what happened.
It’s probably because when I was born, I was a needy newborn, and Hannah just couldn’t take it. Little-girl Hannah was a spoiled, selfish princess and instead of being excited that there was a new sibling, all she could see was that I was vacuum for attention, that her share would be diverted, our parents occupied. So she’s hated me from birth, and that’s not an overstatement.
And when she brought Brian home, I wasn’t surprised. My older sist
er’s always been a magnet for guys, and Brian seemed like the ultimate conquest, a real man, a professional, and not just another lame high school boy with acne and buckteeth.
“Right, this is Angie,” smirked my sister again. “Like I said, awkward phase,” she said straight out this time, not even bothering to hide it.
I flushed. True, at fourteen I wasn’t exactly at the peak of my looks. My brown curls were wild and bouncy, springing out from my head in all directions, and whereas my sister had curves in all the right places, my curves seemed to be in all the wrong ones. I had shoulders as wide as a linebacker with a torso the approximate shape of square. No sassy hourglass shape, no boobs even really, I was just thick and squat during my growing phase, like Frodo from The Hobbit.
But Brian was kind, understanding flickering in his eyes.
“Nice to meet you,” he growled. “Like the sweatshirt,” he added.
My cheeks flamed then because the sweatshirt was kind of an inside joke. It looked like any other sweatshirt with a corporate logo, except the words read Dundler Mifflin Paper Company.
“What?” asked Hannah, squinting her eyes as she stared at my chest. “Looks lame. Why are you always wearing free shit from companies?” she whined. “Mom wants you to dress more feminine and yet you’re wearing free stuff you could go to the gym in. What the hell?”
My cheeks flared.
“Well Dunder Mifflin’s the workplace from The Office,” I said in a small voice. “You know the show with Steve Carrell? The one that’s won all those Emmys?”
“I don’t give a shit,” harrumphed my sister, looking haughtily down her nose. “Looks terrible. You look terrible, Angie,” she snorted.
But Brian was understanding, blue eyes calm.