Beg Me: Sold to My Dad's Boss Page 15

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Blake

  I’d gotten rid of my brother with a fast move, I admit. Hey, sometimes you gotta strike before someone else moves first, and I wasn’t above one-upping my closest kin. I admit it was slick after our agreement this afternoon, but each man for himself my friend.

  Besides our relationship runs deeper than that. Not only did we share a womb, but we’re close. Maybe too close. On the outside, everything was as American as apple pie growing up. My twin and I grew up in a working class neighborhood in Queens, New York, playing stick ball, eating hot dogs with beans. We didn’t have much, but no one in our neighborhood did so none of us kids knew any better. Sure, there were tales of phenomenally wealthy people in Manhattan, but that could have been a galaxy away for all the difference it made.

  So we’d chosen to enroll in the police academy after high school because there wasn’t enough money to go to college for the both of us. Besides, the band of blue was in our blood, just like my dad and a couple of our uncles. Our first assignment was in the Bronx, a fucking nightmare … but also a dream come true.

  Because you see, that’s where Bryan and I discovered our predilection for gay sex … with each other. It’s twincest, straight up, his dick in my ass, my dick in his, enjoying each other’s bodies. It sounds twisted and wrong, but it worked for us that first time and it’s worked for us ever since.

  It happened because of the job, to tell the truth. Our first beat was a stretch along the Grand Concourse in the Bronx, a seedy strip where the county jail was located as well as a bunch of flophouses with accompanying methadone clinics. I guess it was convenient – junkies could get high illegally and then come down just as legally, all within minutes.

  But Bryan and I had been placed undercover to investigate a Russian bath house. Rumor was that a Ukrainian gang was dealing inside the all-male establishment, not just in drugs but whores as well. There were allegedly women chained in the basement, serving bathhouse customers, forced to engage in the most heinous, obscene sex acts. And the only customers admitted were those who could be vetted, preferably by an insider.

  So Bryan and I had a contact provided by the force – a seedy CI named Vladimir with a serious drug problem.

  “Come on in!” chortled Vlad, meeting us at the door. Uncharacteristically, Vlad was paunchy and fat, unlike the rundown heroin users we usually encountered. “Come in, come in!” he said in a heavily-accented voice. “Meet my friends. Vodka to start you off?”

  Bryan and I accepted the tiny shot glasses and then made our way past the front office which was nothing more than a bored-looking girl with bad skin sitting at a desk. She looked at Vlad, nodded to us, then languidly opened an appointment book and jotted something down by hand. Clearly, there were no electronic records in this place.

  Vlad led us downstairs into the bathhouse itself. This was no luxury spa, I assure you. Instead, it was all cement, a warren of small rooms which were alternately hot, medium and cold in temperature. We passed one dude in a private room, laid out on a massage table, a scary-looking Russian woman beating him with a bunch of branches as he screamed in pain and pleasure.

  But that’s how it goes in Russian banyas. There were men of all sizes around, strolling around naked, letting it all hang out with no compunction, wandering around in the steam. More often than not, these guys were overweight, their bellies so huge that you couldn’t see their genitals due to the overhang of their supersize stomachs, so at least we were spared that.

  But as we got comfortable in a sauna, Vlad grew jumpy. There were a couple other guys who’d made no comment when we entered the space, lying around in a half-daze, barely awake even. But Vlad was suddenly startled, his eyes darting right and left, looking like a scared rabbit despite his massive size.

  “You … you do it now,” he said in his heavily-accented English.

  “Do what man?” asked Bryan, a towel draped over his head, his face hidden.

  “These men,” said Vlad. “They the dragon heads, the masters. They want to see it now.”

  “What, my friend?” I asked more forcefully. “What do they want to see? My tats? My brother’s tats? We got some good ones from the gulag, I assure you,” I said casually. And we had. In addition to the designs already spread across our chests, we gotten some additional ones which supposedly had special meaning in Russian jailhouse lore, if the NYPD culture specialists were accurate.

  But Vlad merely shook his head.

  “No,” he whispered, bringing his head closer to ours. “They want to see you fuck … all the boys do it as a sign of legitimacy, of belonging.”

  I have to say, I was still confused.

  “Fuck who?” I asked, fast losing patience. “Where are the whores? I’m happy to fuck some juicy pussy if that’s what they want to see,” I grunted.

  “No, no,” whispered Vlad, his eyes still darting around nervously. “Fuck each other, man. That’s the agreement. You fuck each other in front of the audience to be legit.”

  I was disgusted and horrified when I heard those words. Fuck my brother? My twin brother, a man who was biologically related to me? This was fucking disgusting and I was ready to stalk out, mission be damned when Bryan interrupted.

  “Sure no problem, Vlad,” he said smoothly, his face a blank wall. “You got any condoms?”

  I looked at him, struggling to control my expression. This was the most fucked-up undercover operation ever. What did Bryan have in mind? Some fake act where nothing actually touched? No penetration? How were we going to pull that off with a live audience mere feet away?

  But Vlad seemed relieved, pulling out what looked like a small first aid kit. When he popped the lid, I saw that it full of condoms, lube, and sex toys. Oh yeah, there were vibrators, butt plugs, everything you might need to have a good time at the bathhouse.

  “Here, XL ok?” he asked, passing a gold-covered foil to my brother. And Bryan took it, his eyes flashing.

  “More than okay, it’s the only size I can manage,” he said smoothly, whipping his towel off.

  And that was the first time I’d gotten a look at my twin’s dong since we were boys. Sure, we’d been on the football team together in high school, but I never gazed at another man’s cock on purpose, you know what I mean? I’d been just as alpha as the rest of the guys, snapping towels and wisecracking in the locker room, professing my love of pussy, cunt and snatch, in that order.

  So when my brother began rolling the condom onto his massive prick, I was horrified, although careful not give anything away with my expression. Hopefully this was all some sick joke and the SWAT team was about to burst in, blowing the need for this farce.

  But Bryan merely gestured to me after rolling the rubber on, the latex sheathing that veiny pole. Oh god, it was huge, his deeply pink balls hanging heavily behind the massive steel, threatening yet appetizing at once. Shit, had I just thought the word “appetizing”? This was getting more and more fucked up, it must have been the heat in the sauna driving me to hallucinations.

  But like a slave, I did as Bryan gestured and got on all fours, nude, my own dong poking out rock-hard and stiff. Because yeah, I’d gotten a boner, the sight of my brother’s perfectly sculpted body coupled with that massive fuckpole a turn-on, an aphrodisiac that my body couldn’t ignore. Plus the fact that all eyes were on us was making me hot and hungry, and I wanted to see where this was going.

  Still expecting an abort at the last minute, I felt Bryan’s hand on my ass, that big palm smoothing over my skin, stroking, massaging even as I tensed in anticipation. He dragged his index finger to my hole, circling it, touching it even as I shivered.

  He leaned close over my back, whispering in my ear.

  “It won’t take long, you’ll like it, I promise.” What the fuck? What did he mean, I was going to like it? Again, I was still expecting the SWAT team to burst into the chamber, breaking up this misguided farce.

  But then it happened. I felt a tiny bit of cool lube plop onto my anus, m
y brother’s finger pushing the sticky gel into my chamber, and then the pressure of something huge, massive, pressing insistently against my rectum. Oh god, could it be? I half-turned my head, expecting this all to be a mirage, but nope, it was true. My twin was in back of me, crouched between my legs, pushing his dick into my ass, slowly, slowly, but insistent all the same.

  And oh fuck, it felt good. I’d never been touched there before and to get a massive dong back there, to see the ecstasy on my twin’s face as he fucked me, was insane. I felt my ass resisting, that pucker stubbornly hetero, refusing to give in. But Bryan was persuasive. He rubbed my anus with his fingers as his penis inched forward, building momentum with his hips, and with a slight pop, my rectum caved and he was in.

  “Good boy,” he breathed so that only I could hear, massaging my left thigh in encouragement. “Now just hold still.”

  And with a groan, he grabbed my hips and slid forward again, this time pushing that veiny length into my backdoor, my ass screaming in pain as it took its first dick.

  “Owww!” I must have shrieked, given the chuckles that surrounded us. But Bryan groaned loudly as well, drowning out my cry of pain, and began stroking in and out smoothly, stopping to empty half a tube of lube where our bodies were joined.

  And it began to feel good, the heated, burning sensation slowly replaced by the most delicious penetration, the feel of a hard dick ramming my insides, extending almost to my throat, my brother’s cock was that enormous. I began breathing in rhythm with the strokes, letting myself relax and just savor the feeling.

  “Oh god,” I groaned, my head dropping in ecstasy like a delirious man. “Fuuuuck,” I moaned again.

  And Bryan was going with it as well, his hips now swinging in a regular rocking motion, my ass given up all resistance. I could hear the wet slipping and sliding as he pounded me, the huffs of air as they left his lungs, the sweat dripping from his brow as he drilled his first man.

  And suddenly, my twin was tensing. I could feel it in myself as well, my muscles gearing up, the friction becoming unbearable, my own cock getting ready to spurt.

  “Ah ah ah, UNNNNH!” roared my brother, and just like that, I was coated with cum on the inside. His big penis ripped through me, pulsing, spurting jet after jet of creamy white into my GI tract, coating me with that hot, intense man milk … which had the same DNA as mine.

  Call me a disgusting pervert, but the feel of that baby batter coating me caused my own semen to jet and I spontaneously let go, my orgasm flying out of my dick, showering my belly and torso with male cream, spurting everywhere as I was fucked by a man.

  And it was only after Bryan withdrew from my body, his veiny length leaving me with a huge anal gape, that the applause started.

  “Vlad, you bring us good men,” said one especially fat guy from the corner, his chest covered with hair. I hadn’t even noticed him before, it was so steamy in the bathhouse. “Let’s see how they do with women now, shall we?” he growled.

  Thus, because of our twincest performance, we were able to bust a Russian prostitution ring … and discover a new side to ourselves as well.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Callie

  I still had no idea what I was doing, although I’d taken a chance showing Blake around the Gordons’ home.

  “Here’s Chrissy’s bedroom,” I said, indicating a half open door through which a glimpse of a frilly bedspread was visible. “And here’s her parents’ room,” I nodded to a massive pair of gigantic oak doors.

  I’d planned on going straight to the game room after that because it was pretty cool. The Gordons had invested in a massive flatscreen TV that almost covered an entire wall, plus they’d just bought new Oculus Rift glasses. Every guy likes 3-D holograms right?

  But Blake interrupted me.

  “I think I hear something inside,” he said, nodding his head to the master bedroom.

  Really? I hadn’t heard anything but I’d been feeling sick lately with the fainting spell over the cat and all that. I couldn’t trust my senses, everything was out of whack after being inundated by formaldehyde.

  So I hesitated. “You think we should see what it is?” I asked. It could always be some hooligans, some of the other kids messing around. In fact, I practically owed it to Chrissy’s parents to check it out if that was the case, they’d been so kind to me in light of my own dysfunctional family.

  Because, you see, I’m a Walsh. My mom was a single mom to four girls – Jenna, Tina, Karina, and me. It was rough raising the four of us, I mean it’s never easy with that many kids, much less four girls who didn’t exactly get along. But I thought we were doing okay until the events of the last two years.

  It turned out that Jenna wasn’t even really my sister, at least not biologically. She’d gone to NYC to be a model after dropping out of law school, and a huge scandal had ensued. Someone had discovered a video of my sister doing porn with two guys and released it, intent on wrecking her career.

  But it wasn’t even Jenna in the film. Instead, it turns out my sister had been given away as a baby by her biological parents and it was actually an imposter named Violet in the video. Or more accurately, Violet was Jenna’s real twin, separated at birth but with the same beautiful face, blonde hair, and curvaceous bod. I had no idea how Jenna and Violet were getting along now because what could an A-list model and D-list porn star have in common? Maybe a lot, actually.

  But the baggage didn’t stop there. Somehow, my family had gotten involved with the Sterling brothers. It sounds perfect, right? Four Sterling boys, four Walsh girls, we’d be one big happy family. And my mom was engaged to Harold Sterling, the patriarch of the clan.

  But everything just kept getting messed up. Jenna and Tina were in a spat because Tina allegedly stole Jake Sterling from Jenna, breaking up their engagement. And Karina and the twin boys, Cade and Caden … don’t even get me started. Although there was nothing “official” going on, I suspected something – mainly that my sister was having sex with both Cade and Caden, banging the boys in their shared apartment near NYU. But it’s not my business and so long as they were in New York, they were far enough so that the fam could turn a blind eye.

  So as you can tell, we Walsh girls are a piece of work. With the drama that’s surrounded us, things had gotten unbelievably complicated and I’d taken refuge with Chrissy and her family, the reassuringly normal Gordons. Of course, every family has its ups and downs, but compared with mine, the Gordons were practically the Partridges, picture perfect with smiling, golden children.

  Out of a sense of loyalty, I opened the door, expecting to see some kids drinking, maybe making out on the bed, that kind of thing. It’d be gross but not unexpected, and at least it’d be easy to clean up.

  But there was no one inside, the room silent.

  “Come on,” said Blake, leading the way to the en suite. “I thought I heard some noise coming from in here.”

  I followed tentatively behind him, trailing that masculine form. Blake seemed so sure of himself, stealthy and agile, like he knew exactly what he was doing while tracking an intruder.

  But there was no one in the tiled master bath either, no half-opened window, no fluttering curtain indicating a quick escape. It was just a regular bathroom, the vanity clear, the tub and shower gleaming white.

  “Hmm, I’m not sure,” I said perplexed. “I never heard anything, maybe it was …”

  I had been about to say “the wind,” but I never got to finish because Blake covered my mouth with his.

  “Oh!” was my muffled cry as those firm lips descended on mine, gentle, roving, explorative. I’d kissed boys before but my sexual experience was far behind that of my sisters. In fact, I was practically a nun compared to them.

  But it didn’t seem to deter Blake. His big arms came around me and I instinctively melted, enjoying the warmth, the feeling of security pressed against that massive chest. He was two inches taller than anyone I’d ever dated and much more athletic. I could feel the hardness of his pec
s, the faint tracing of washboard abs … and something insistent, rising against my tummy, unmistakable in demand.

  But before I could react, Blake had walked me backwards to the master bedroom, pressing the backs of my calves against the king-size bed until we toppled over, bouncing onto the floral bedspread.

  I giggled a bit.

  “Blake, we shouldn’t be doing this,” I whispered, scandalized. “This is Chrissy’s parents’ bedroom! It’s so wrong!”

  “It’s no different from any other bed,” he growled, nuzzling my neck while tracing my décolletage with a finger. “In fact, it’s better, it’s bigger than the futon I have at our trailer.”

  A futon? A trailer? He must have been living in temporary circumstances but I couldn’t think about that now, his hot mouth trailing closer to my nipples distracting me, making me focus on nothing else.

  “But Blake,” I gasped. “We haven’t locked the door – anyone could come in.”

  “I locked it,” he growled, “you didn’t notice, but I took care of everything baby girl.”

  And despite my reservations, I could feel myself melting, my body growing soft and warm under his, receptive to that demanding male form. It was senior year and I could afford to relax a little, enjoy some downtime with a handsome man, especially one who’d “saved” me during biology class. I wanted this, I wanted to explore physical attraction with someone who made me steamy inside.

  And Blake wasn’t taking no for an answer. His hands had been busy, undoing the strap at my neck, slowly peeling off the pink dress until I was before him clad in nothing but my swimsuit.

  “Thinking about taking a dip?” he said, his eyes ravenous, trailing up and down my curves. “I like a little skinny-dipping, invite me anytime.”

  “Oh that,” I breathed, giggling a bit. “Yeah Chrissy said we should have our swimsuits underneath just in case we got pushed into the pool or something.”