HUGE X2

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Authors: Stephanie Brother

BOOK: HUGE X2
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HUGE X2

By Stephanie Brother

 
 

© 2016
Stephanie Brother
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
productions of the author's imagination.
Please note that this work is intended only for adults over the age of 18 and
all characters represented as 18 or over.

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Edition

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Description

There are rumors going around about my
twin stepbrothers
.
 

HUGE rumors
.

I try to ignore gossip, but that's easier said than done when it
involves
crazy sex stuff
and
verified reports about the size of things that a stepsister should know nothing
about.

Ethan and Nathan are the identically gorgeous hunks of man flesh that
have just moved into my house.
 
Even
before the rumors, I could barely look at them, with their ridiculously twinkly
blue eyes, and smiles that turn me into a mindless puddle of goo.

We’re supposed to be family and I’m trying my hardest to be a welcoming
little stepsister.
 
But then I overhear
them talking about things I am definitely not supposed to know, and suddenly I
realize I’m in
double trouble
.

HUGE X2 is the story of a girl’s realization that the
best things in life come in extra-large,
twin packs
.

 

1

 

DOUBLE TROUBLE

                                                                                                              

 

When
people ask me if I have brothers or sisters I usually tell them no; then I remember
Ethan and Nathan and blush furiously at my mistake.
 
See, I was an only child until I turned nineteen,
so it’s strange to suddenly find myself with two huge stepbrothers and a whole new
status as a little sister.

Tiny is what they call me.
 
Sometimes Titch.
 
Midget is a favorite too.
 
And Peanut.
 
Whatever name they give me, I hate it.
 
The whole teasing thing is something totally new to me, and at first I
really didn’t know how to take it.
 
Girls
who grow up with real brothers are toughened up from birth.
 
I got the joy of having to learn as an adult.

After a year, I’ve grown used to the teasing, but not
their size.
 
At five foot three, I’m a fraction
under the average height for a girl, but Ethan and Nathan are towering hunks of
men that loom over me at six foot three and a half.
 
They like to remind me of the half, as though
being a foot taller isn’t enough for them to be happy.
 
Sometimes I feel like they are as broad as
they are tall, with their ridiculous shoulders and chests with more hills and valleys
than a national park.
 
And their
thighs.
 
Oh god, their thighs are just so
massive and muscular that their pants look like they might split at any moment.
 

Did I mention how gorgeous they are?
 
When I pass them in the hallway I find myself
leaning against the wall, not only because they seem to take up most of the
space wherever they are, but because looking at them is like looking into the
beams of a passing car; I’m dazed until they have passed, and even for a few
moments afterwards.

All my friends are blatant in their jealousy.
 
“I can’t believe you get to share a house
with the Stanmore twins,” they say.
 
They’ve
heard the rumors about them too.
 
The
whispers about the size of things I should know nothing about, and how well
they know how to use them.
 
There are
darker tales too, tales that keep me awake at night.
 
Apparently they like to share, and I’m not
talking about KFC family buckets here.
 

I keep quiet when Katelin and Abigail gossip about
them.
 
I don’t get involved in the
speculation about who they are fucking and what it must be like.
 
Instead, I tell my friends about all the
annoying things that come with having them live with me: how their shoes are
like a row of canoes by our front door, and how I can never find any snacks in
the cupboards because they eat everything in sight.
 

As much as I complain about them, I actually secretly
like having them around.
 
My house was
pretty boring when it was just me and mom.
 
Now I have a stepfather who’s hilarious, and a home that’s always full
of people.
 
We have cookouts and movie
nights, and everything’s so much more fun than it used to be.

That’s why my secret is kind of terrible.
 
It’s why I haven’t told anyone, not even my
best friend Katelin.
 
It’s not that she’s
particularly judgmental or prudish or anything.
 
It’s just that when you think you might be in love with your twin stepbrothers,
anyone would find that news shocking.
 
I
mean, what am I thinking?
 
For one, they
are two years older than me and always have these perfectly amazing looking
girls buzzing around them like flies on unmentionable stuff.
 
For two, they seem to think I am just
available as a source of amusement.
 
For
three, and most importantly, they are twins.
 

There are two of them.
 

Did I mention they are twins and not just one
person?
 

I wish they were one person.

Sometimes I fantasize that I creep into their room in
the middle of the night, and with my imaginary super strength, pick one of them
up and slot him inside the other, like human fleshy Russian dolls.
 
But then I get caught up on which one of them
I’d slide into the other, and what that would mean.
 
If I chose to slot Ethan inside Nathan, would
that leave me with bubbly Eth or cuddly Nath?
 
I get my fantasies tangled and complicated with feelings because I could
never choose between them, not even in my mind.

It’s Saturday night, and I should be out having
fun.
 
I want to find the prospect of
going to a bar with my friends appealing.
 
I’ve been single for ten months, basically since I realized that every
time I kissed my boyfriend, I was imagining other faces.
 
Katelin has been hassling me about going out
more.
 
I think she thinks that I’m
depressed.
 
I know she’s worrying about
my abnormal dislike of socializing, but I just don’t find the prospect of going
out and talking to other men appealing in any way.
 
I want to kick back in my living room and
hope that Ethan and Nathan are tired from working out and come to hang out with
me.
 
They always want to watch sports,
and I get a lot of criticism for begging to watch movies.
 
When they eventually cave to my womanly
tactics – pouting, sulking, and threats to knee them in very tender places –
they join me on our ark of a couch for a marathon of 80’s teen movies.
 
I hold the popcorn because they don’t eat
carbs after 5 pm, and they provide the hilarious running commentary on fashion
and hairstyles.
 
You see, that’s how I
know they love The Breakfast Club and St Elmo’s Fire as much as I do.
 
And don’t get me started on Pump up the
Volume.
 
Christian Slater rules.

Anyway, I digress.
 
Sort of.

So here I am on the couch alone.
 

Somehow my plan seems to be failing in two very
crucial ways.
 
No Nathan and no Ethan. And
starting Pretty in Pink now, when I’m by my lonesome, seems like such a sad,
sad waste.

My phone rings and it’s Katelin calling to tell me
that I have to meet her at our favorite local bar.
 
From the noise in the background, I can tell
it’ll be a good night.
 
It’s on the tip
of my tongue to tell her no, but when she starts listing all the people that
are there, including my stepbrothers, that no becomes a rather too enthusiastic
YES.

 

2

TWIN PROBLEMS

 

I’m out of the house in thirty
minutes, showered and dolled up to perfection, feeling like a million excited
little dollars.

But
as I slide into my car and catch sight of how mini my mini-dress actually is, I
feel so stupid.

Dressing
up to impress a man is one thing.
 
Doing
it to impress your twin stepbrothers is a whole other kind of fucked up.
 
I take a few deep breaths and start the
engine, lying to myself the whole time about my reasons for going.
 
I’ve been promising Katelin a good night out
for weeks.
 
It’s normal for a girl my age
to want to go out partying.
 
It’s totally
normal for girls going to bars to wear skimpy clothing.
 
Ethan and Nathan are just a bonus.
 
Two huge great bonuses really.

My
heart is thumping by the time I’m walking through the door of Red Devil.
 
Silly name for a bar, but it’s the owners
signature cocktail, so I guess it fits.
 
Deadly concoction it is.
 
I guess
that’s why I head straight for the bar and order one, looking around to find
Katelin.
 
I catch sight of her over on the
other side of the dance floor, talking to Bryan who’s a friend of the
twins.
 
He’s cute and Katelin’s grin is
telling me she’s enjoying herself.
 
I don’t
need to look much further to find the twins.
 
They are half a head taller than most of the dudes in here, their light
brown hair changing color with each pulse of the disco lights above.
 
They seem to be conversing with each other
and I laugh.
 
They’ve spent pretty much
their whole lives in each-others company and they still never run out of things
to say.
 
The barman pushes my drink toward
me and I hand over the money.
 
By the
time he’s back with my change I’ve drained the glass.
 

The
alcohol sits hot and cold in my stomach and I wait for a minute until I feel
the warmth spread to my brain.
 
I’m
watching them through the crowd, catching just fleeting glimpses of their faces
but it’s enough to get me so damn hot.
 

I’m
a sinner.
 
A desperate sinner for imagining
Nathan’s hands on my tits and his tongue in my mouth.
 
Even worse for the images of Ethan pressing himself
at my back, slipping his fingers between my legs and watching his brother squeezing
me.
 

I
don’t know how my shaky legs carry me across the dance floor, but somehow I
find myself among my group of friends. Katelin squeals and pulls me in for a
hug as though I’m a long lost friend she hasn’t seen for years, rather than her
bestie she saw a few hours earlier at college.
 
I guess my absence from the social scene has had more of an impact than
I thought.
 
Bryan gives me a polite peck
on the cheek and Katelin winks at me as he’s pulling away.
 
I know the devilish look in her eyes all too
well. She’s a girl on a mission.

Abigail
is there too, and Kathleen.
 
We all hug
and greet and it’s feels good to be out.
 
After I’ve worked my way around my girlfriends, I turn to find two sets
of blue eyes and two matching grins, fixed right on me.
 

“Peanut,
you came,” Ethan says, and I scowl.

Nathan
punches his brother on the shoulder.
 
“Dude, cut it out. You know she hates that nickname.”

Ethan
grins.
 

“Come
here, Tiny,” Nathan says.
 
“Give us some
love.”
 
His laugh is loud when my face
falls again.
 

“Fuck
you,” I say, going to stomp away, despite the fact that I’m exactly where I
want to be.
 

“Ah,
don’t be like that, Carrie.” Nathan grabs my hand and tugs me over.
 
“We’re happy you came.
 
You’ve been hiding at home for so long we
were worried you were turning into a monk.”

“Women
can’t be monks,” I scoff indignantly.

“Err…I
think they can, Midget,” Ethan says, taking my other hand.

I
look at them crossly, as heat spreads from their hands, up my arms, and into
all my womanly parts.
 
“Have you
exhausted the name calling yet, guys?
 
Cos if not, I’ll head home to my sanctuary of
meditation.”

“No
way,” they say in unison.
 
“Now that we’ve
lured you out, we’re not letting you get away.”

Ethan
turns and drags me towards the dance floor, with Nathan trailing behind.
 
Their hands are huge, enveloping mine and
holding firmly enough that I know It’s pointless for me to try and pull away.

The
music has a crazy, pulsing beat that I feel in my bones and Ethan is the first
to start dancing.
 
I look over to my
friends, who all seem to have partnered up with the twin’s crowd.
 
I don’t want to dance but if I try to escape,
I’ll be the third wheel to someone.

I
think that Nathan can see what I’m considering and he crowds in closer.
 
“Don’t even think about it,” he says, bending
over so that he can talk directly into my ear.
 
His voice is so husky and his breath so hot against my neck that I feel
weak.
 
“Just dance, Carrie.
 
I know you’ve probably forgotten all your
moves with all the hibernating you’ve been doing recently, but I know you’ll
get them back with some practice.”

Ethan’s
grinning as I give in, putting my hands in the air and letting the music take
over.
 
The twins are good dancers, and
they stay close, keeping me between them but not quite sandwiched.
 
Occasionally my shoulder brushes one of their
arms or my ass comes into contact with one of their thighs, and I want to press
my body against them in a way that would be totally inappropriate.
 
And even though it’s so wrong, I find myself
dancing in a way that I know is much too sexy.
 
The fabric of my dress is so thin that I feel every brush of them
against me.
 
The material works its way
higher on my thighs as I move.
 
When I
catch Ethan’s eye I think I see the spark of desire.
 
His eyelids look heavy and his pupils
dark.
 
I twirl around, putting him behind
me and Nathan in front but it’s no better. His expression looks so hungry.
 
Oh god, they seem to get closer until I’m
touching one or both of them with every beat of the music.
 
The flashing lights make everything seem more
frenzied.
 
I want their hands on me,
stroking my curves, grabbing my hair so I’m powerless to resist but I can’t ask
and despite the heat in their gazes, they don’t go any further.
 
Just as I think I might combust from the all
the longing, the DJ changes the music and the crowd starts to disperse.
 
It’s like being woken up from a deep
sleep.
 
I catch Nathan shaking his head
as if he needs to clear his mind.
 
I feel
the same way.
 
Ethan coughs behind me and
says, “Anyone want a drink?” and that’s my opportunity.
 
“I need to use the bathroom,” I say in a weak
voice, and dash across the dance floor to where I know the restrooms are.

There’s
a line and I shift from foot to foot, desperate to get into a cubical so I can
calm down in private.
 
Three doors open
and I rush inside one and shut out the world, pressing my back against the cool
door, palms flat.

“Shit,”
I mutter.
 
“Shit, shit, shit.”
 
That was so stupid.
 
A ridiculous display in front of a room full
of strangers and pretty much all our friends.
 
What the hell must they be thinking?
 
All the bumping and grinding was bordering on pornographic.
 
What must the twins think of me, gyrating between
them like that?
 
And why were they
crowding in so closely?

I
take a deep fortifying breath and groan with embarrassment.
 
They’re probably just having a drunken good
time and have no idea that their stepsister has been having so many
inappropriate thoughts about them.
 

Someone
rattles the door, and I call that I’m nearly done.
 
I flush the toilet even though I didn’t use it
and head out to wash my hands.
 
The cool
water from the tap is soothing but when I glance at myself in the mirror I’m
stunned to see my flushed cheeks and wild eyes.
 
I look so aroused.
 
I feel so
aroused, as though all my nerve endings are ready to fire.
 
All they need is a tiny touch and I’d go off
like a rocket.

“Carrie,
there you are,” Katelin calls out behind me.
 
“Where have you been?”

“Just
dancing,” I reach for a paper towel to dry off.
 

“Who
with?”

“The
twins.”
 
I try to sound nonchalant but it
doesn’t come out that way.
 

“Lucky
you!”

“They’re
my stepbrothers,” I say with as much indignation as I can muster.
 

“Oh
come on.
 
Stepbrother’s or not, you know
how hot they are.
 
Have you seen what
they’re wearing?
 
Those t-shirts and
jeans leave absolutely nothing to the imagination.”

“They
always dress well.”

“I
bet you get to see them in a lot less though don’t you?”

“I
guess,” I say.
 
When I look down, the
paper towel I’m holding seems to have been shredded into a million pieces.
 
Katelin notices it and frowns.
 

“Are
you okay, Carrie?
 
You seem nervous or
something.”

“I’m
fine.
 
Let’s go and get a drink.”

“I
think I’ve had enough alcohol for tonight.
 
I’ve got work early tomorrow.
 
And
anyway, if Nathan and Ethan are in the mood for dancing, I might just get out
on the floor and throw some shapes.”

I
groan internally at the thought of the twins turning my best friend into a Katelin
sandwich-filling.
 
I hate the idea that
they might get turned on by dancing with her or that I might see the same hint
of lust in their eyes that I did when they danced with me.
 
The trouble is that I can’t risk dancing with
them again if Katelin is watching.
 
I
know she’ll see things for what they are and then there’ll be non-stop
questions and I don’t want to have to lie to her if she’s seen the truth.
 
Denial of something abstract is one
thing.
 
Denial of something obvious is a
whole other ball game.
 

“I’m
going to the bar.
 
Shall I get you a
coke?” I say, hopeful that she’ll come with me for the company.

“Nah…I’ve
been drinking like a fish.
 
I’m going to
head back to our table.”

“Oh,
okay.” I push open the door, nudging through the busy corridor until I’m at the
edge of the dance floor.
 
The DJ is
playing some upbeat songs tonight and the crowd is heaving.
 
I scan for the twins but don’t see them
dancing anymore.
 
I can’t see them at the
tables either.
 
I start walking towards
the bar, now feeling in desperate need of another fortifying drink. Just as I
lean across the bar to tell the barman I want a double vodka and coke, I feel
two bodies press in closely, one on either side.
 
I know who it is before I look.
 
They cast identical shadows across the bar
and smell identically good too.

Nathan
bends down to whisper in my ear. “So this is where you went,”

“Why
are you drinking doubles, Carrie?” Ethan asks, sounding concerned.

“I
just felt like letting my hair down,” I say.
 

“Your
hair is down.” Nathan runs his hand over the stream of light brown hair that is
hanging in waves down my back.
 
His touch
is gentle but feels possessive and it makes me shiver.
 
But it’s just ‘stepbrotherly’ possessiveness
isn’t it?
 
Shivering is such a stupidly embarrassing
response to that.

“So
there’s nothing going on?” Ethan asks seriously.
 
“We’ve been worried about you.
 
You don’t want to come out anymore, and now that
you have, you want to drink yourself into oblivion.”

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