I’m a little freaked out. For a week after the incident, I didn’t hear from my brothers. But I just got an email from them:
“Dear Kyleigh,
Please come and visit us in New Jersey. We’ve purchased a house that could use your feminine touch,” it read. “We need your sweetness here. While we were on location, we looked at the photos of you every night, entranced by your suppleness, your willingness, and your amazing body.
Come now, and we’ll help you adapt to the celebrity life.
Yours,
Roman and Ryder.”
It seemed my brothers had kept the photos private, as they’d promised, but they’d also looked at them each night? I don’t know, maybe they passed the phone between them as they stroked those long, hard shafts? The possibilities were titillating, and I wasn’t sure how to react mentally.
But my body knew what it wanted. As a result, I’m packing my bags, off for a short vacation to Jersey. It’s just going to be for a few days, but I want to “adapt to celebrity life,” as they put it … with Roman and Ryder by my side.