I pulled up to the sidewalk and gaped. There were a dozen cars parked outside our house, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say that most of the lacrosse team was here. I’d been angling to study at my friend Gemma’s place, but left when she started feeling ill.
As I walked up to the front door, my ears pounded from the heavy beat of the music. I sighed a bit. Why did my brothers have to blare it at max volume? I shook my head and cringed, my head already throbbing.
Sure enough, as I opened the front door, I was greeted by a sprawl of guys in the living room. Normal girls would be excited at the discovery, and the chance to have ten or fifteen guys’ attention focused on them. But as a nerd at school, I was sensitive to any situation where I could be easily humiliated.
Sure enough, it started pretty quick.
“Hey Beanpole,” called one dude. His name was Troy, and he was a meathead whom I’d known since freshman year. Fortunately, I’d left him behind as I advanced to AP and college prep classes.
I didn’t really answer, instead mumbling and looking down, hoping I could make a quick escape upstairs to my room. But I wasn’t getting off so easy.
“Little Goody Two Shoes thinks she’s too good for us, huh?” scoffed Troy. “Why don’t you go and cry to Mommy? Wasn’t she some major slut who two-timed your dad?”
I flushed. It was true. My mom had started seeing the twins’ dad when she was still married to my dad, but that didn’t have anything to do with me! Plus, how did he know about it?
But Ryder chimed in.
“Yeah, our parents are fucking sluts and adulterers. My dad is a total manwhore who cheated with her mom while married. Can you believe it? Plus my mom is a total hottie and Kyleigh’s mom is a sack of shit.”
I gasped, my hands flying to my face. Clearly, my brothers had been totally open about how much they detested our parents, and had shared our disgraceful family history with their lacrosse buddies. But that didn’t give them the right to diss my mom! My mom was my mom, and as much as I hated what she’d done, I couldn’t stand listening to her get trashed by these eighteen-year-old boys.
“Shut up,” I said furiously, my face a bright red. “Just shut up, okay?”
“Oooh, I’m so scared,” said Troy in a little-girl voice. “You scare me. You and your mom scare me so much because you’re just so scary!” he said, raising his hands in mock-horror. “Actually, I am scared. What if your mom wants to get with me? Clearly being married is no object,” he said scornfully.
By now, tears were gathering in my eyes, and I was shaking, angry and upset. But the doorbell chimed, saving me from replying, and Roman got up to answer.
“Dude, they’re here,” he announced, and the door opened to two … my jaw dropped open. I didn’t even know what to think at first. The two girls were dressed only in lingerie, one in pink and the other in violet. Had they really walked from the car to our front door in such ridiculous outfits?
Because it wasn’t like the lingerie covered anything. This was stripper lingerie. The g-strings were a piece of floss between their ass cheeks, and they had pasties on their nipples and feathers at their hips, emphasizing the sway of their walk.
“Hey boys,” said the one in pink. “I’m Porsche and this is Mercedes,” she said. “Did I get a call requesting twincest?” she winked.
That gave me pause. What was twincest? Both women had beautiful, flowing long blonde hair, clear blue eyes and ski-slope perfect noses. Okay, so their make-up was garish, and the boobs were obviously fake, being way too tan and bouncy. But overall, the package was amazing. It was like two Barbies come to life, vapid and cloying.
“Hell yeah!” cried one of my brothers’ teammates, pumping his fist. A roar of excitement built in the living room, and the tang of testosterone was suddenly strong and overwhelming.
“Get out of here,” said Roman to me, jerking his head upstairs. With haste, I scampered away, retreating to the safety of my room.