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All the Best Men: An MFMM Menage Romance by Cassandra Dee (49)

CHAPTER SEVEN

Ana

 

It’s been so weird since moving to White Plains. After the wedding, I’d been excited about the change for obvious reasons.

“Well, this is quite the one eighty,” remarked my mom, eyeing me curiously. “I couldn’t get a smile about moving before and now you’re telling me that you’re already packed,” she said, nodding to my room through the doorway.

Because it was true. Boxes were piled up to the ceiling, I’d already stowed all my personal belongings and broken down my furniture, ready to go.

And it was to be expected. After all, since meeting Pax and Peyton my body had been continuously hungry, on fire almost, the need coursing through me each night as I fingered myself, hungry to taste those cocks again.

“Oh that,” I said airily. “Yeah, I got a head start on packing, I didn’t want the movers to touch my personal stuff. Besides, I did some research and White Plains High has an amazing track team, it’ll be fine.”

“Really?” asked my mom dryly, her eyebrow cocked. “Our last conversation you were telling me how no school could compare to Trinity.”

“Oh no,” I said quickly. “It’s fine in White Plains. Besides, they have a good football program right? Pax and Peyton are stars there, I heard they’re aiming for State this year.”

I wasn’t surprised that my twin stepbrothers were champion athletes, given their massive size and athletic builds, dominating the opposition on the field … and hopefully me off.

But my mom didn’t have to know. For the moment, she was just happy that I was no longer upset about the move.

“True,” Virginia mused, her expression thoughtful. “Pax and Peyton are MVPs, they’ve already been recruited by a number of schools. Which reminds me, have you started your college applications yet?”

Man, this was more interest from Virginia in ages, she was usually so busy with work that she had no idea what I was up to. And I was counting on that, given my X-rated plans.

“Sure, I’ve filled out a lot of apps,” I said, “better to get in somewhere than nowhere.”

My mom nodded, her eyes still thoughtful.

“Well, I’m hoping to be home more in the future, Ana,” she said slowly. “You’ve always been fine, I know you don’t need me looking over your shoulder, but now that I’m married to Gordon, maybe I’ll be sticking around more,” she said neutrally, shooting me an inscrutable glance.

What was Virginia getting at? These were not the words I wanted to hear, not with my new steps mere feet from me each night. But I was impatient and just wanted to move in with the boys. Hopefully we’d be seeing a lot of each other … every night, god willing.

So I just ignored my mom’s warning and started throwing books into boxes again, even offering to help her with her stuff. There was no need though, Virginia had a personal assistant who was taking care of everything, Ginny has been with my mom for years, doing all her errands, drycleaning, housesitting, not to mention handling admin duties at the bank.

“You ready, Ginny?” I asked. She wasn’t that much older than me, maybe twenty-five, a ginger-colored redhead, which was too bad because some redheads are cute, but Ginny, well, she was just odd-looking, freckles everywhere, her nose a little too long, chin too sharp.

“Yep,” she replied, hoisting a box up into the air. “Let’s get going.”

And just like that, we were in White Plains by evening. The movers were fast and with Ginny and I directing, everything was in its new home by nightfall.

But I was disappointed.

“Where are Pax and Peyton?” I asked my mom, looking around. The house was silent, curiously still.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Gordon mentioned they have practice before and after school, so your stepbrothers are probably on the field still. They’ll be home soon,” she said. “Help me lift this vase, baby, careful it’s heavy.”

And I sat back, disappointed, but all the same, hopeful. Okay, so Pax and Peyton weren’t available at the moment, but they’d be home in a couple hours, football practice can’t go on forever.

But I fell asleep on top of my blankets, dressed in a little pink nightie while waiting to hear their key in the door.

Wandering into the bathroom the next morning, I breathed deeply, my senses immediately alert. The air was still steamy, towels wet, the woody scent of aftershave mixing in my nostrils. Hmm, I thought, sniffing appreciatively. Well, it was just one night, I was sure I’d see them at school.

And I did, glimpses of the twins at least. They were kings of White Plains High, sauntering down the halls in their letter jackets, starkly handsome, their massive forms impossible to miss.

“Hey Pax, hey Peyton,” cooed one girl I’d met briefly, Summer, if I remembered her name. She was gorgeous, the kind who could wear rags and still look like a model.

“Hey,” drawled Peyton and I grew red just at the sound of his voice, my body heating.

“We’ve missed you,” Summer cooed, putting a perfectly manicured hand onto his arm possessively, “Donna and I both. Why don’t you come by my house tonight for some studying? We can help you with biology,” she flirted, batting her lashes.

I stood, stock still and silent. What was this, some kind of joke? Summer and Donna? Like Donna Summers the singer? Help with biology? That girl couldn’t add two plus two, she was an obvious airhead. But the joke was on me because Pax just nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, we’ll be there after practice,” he rumbled. “Eight sharp,” he commanded.

And Summer cooed and giggled again, almost trembling with excitement, her lithe form encased in the tiniest sundress, boobs practically bouncing out with anticipation.

“See you tonight!” she called as they strode down the hall, her voice singsonging. “Donna and I will be ready.”

Ready, schmeady. If you meant painting her nails and putting on her sexiest lingerie, than that was ready. Ready didn’t mean cracking a textbook or reviewing notes, no way. Those girls weren’t the studying type.

Instead, I realized with growing dread, my steps were going to bang Donna and Summer until they were puddles, making them take those donkey dongs with everything they had, drench the females with cum. It’d be the best kind of biology tutorial, a real hands-on experiment.

Stepping back, I swallowed, my heart in my stomach. What had happened? It was like Pax and Peyton had already forgotten about me and our encounter in the woods. Did it mean so little to them? Was the best day of my life nothing to them?

But my steps weren’t getting rid of me so easily. With an angry shake, I turned back to my locker and began cramming books into my backpack, unseeing, blinded by anger. Maybe this was a one-time thing, maybe Pax and Peyton hadn’t seen me, there were too many kids walking around, rushing through the halls. But common sense told me it wasn’t true. My brothers were avoiding me for some reason and I stormed to class, steaming, determined to confront them asap.

But it never happened. In fact, I barely even saw Pax and Peyton the entire semester, they were always at practice, at school, with their friends, at “study hall” with random girls.

And I was so jealous I could have died. There were traces of them all throughout the house, the steamy bathrooms, the dirty dishes in the sink, the mountains of football equipment cluttering every corner. And I saw them Friday nights from afar, cheering from the stands as Pax and Peyton took White Plains High to the State Finals, finishing the year as Title Champions.

But me? There was nothing to see. I was invisible, my brothers never there, my mom completely wrapped up with Gordon and her work, new at school with no friends. So I did the only thing I could … I accepted it, the fight slowly going out of me, the sting dissipating a little more each day. Instead, I threw myself into running, finishing my applications, and when year-end came I was ready to move on.

I was leaving White Plains without tasting my brothers again, can you believe it? Without having their creamy semen on my tongue, in my snatch, shooting onto and into my body. Instead, my bags were packed for the second time in six months and I was moving on … without them.

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