Page 11 of Double XL Mountain Men
I snorted with my huge arms crossed over my chest.
“Dude, our girl used a fake name. I mean, Candy? It’s a stripper name obviously. Whatevs,” I shrugged. “It was a one time thing. They’re getting paid to fuck, so who cares?”
My brother grunted beside me.
“Still, she was damn sexy,” Brent rasped, those blue eyes fixed on the gleam of semen on Candy’s thighs as she bent over to get into the limo. She was stiff and achy, obviously, with that just-fucked look all over her, but I had to acknowledge that she’d taken our cocks like a champ.
But life moves on and we had to depart the cabin as well. Once the girls were shipped off, we got our shit packed and drove back to Western. To say campus was a letdown is putting it lightly. Sure, it’s a gorgeous place with a new library, several stunning cafes, and refurbished classrooms that likely cost millions. But after Sigma Epsilon Chi’s weekend in the woods, who the fuck cared about this shit? All I can think about is the sweet blonde’s nude body as she moans and pants, sandwiched between me and Brent. I’m literally still having visions of those giant tits bouncing as she absorbed our cocks from below, her pink pout parted in ecstasy.
“I wonder if she’s seeping our come,” Brent smirks as we stroll to the Student Learning Center. “I mean, we gave her so many doses of sperm.”
“Yeah,” I grunt. “Probably. But we’ll never see her again,” I rasp while opening the door to the building. “It fucking sucks, but it’s the way it is,” I shrug. “We paid for a good time; she delivered; and it’s over now.”
With those words, we step into the air conditioned space. Like a lot of other buildings on campus, the Student Learning Center has been renovated to within an inch of its life in order to justify Western University’s sky-high tuition. Double height ceilings soar into the air, and there are two walls of massive windows that look out onto the main quad below. Desks are pulled into clusters as tutors and their tutees lean over textbooks, softmurmurs reaching our ears as they discuss the ins and outs of various subjects.
“How can I help you?” a perky receptionist smiles. She looks like the cheerleader type, although far too thin for our tastes.
“Brent and Brandon Coleman,” my twin rasps, his eyes scanning the room. “We’re here for English.”
The receptionist stares at her screen and then nods.
“Yes, Cindy’s here already. She’s in Room 3, over by the back,” the receptionist states. “Just down this hall and around the corner. And boys,” she adds in a throaty tone. “Let me know if you need some ... ah, additional tutoring later. I have just the thing.”
Then, the receptionist bobbles a big boob at us. Literally, the young woman’s dressed in a tight sweater that shows off her assets, and she discreetly reaches one hand up and jiggles her right tit, making it bounce.
But my bro and I take it in a stride because we’re used to this kind of shit. Hell, even Mrs. Lempicki from down the street at home would flirt outrageously, trying to get in bed with us. That woman was eighty if a day, and I was more impressed by her efforts than anything. I thought libido diminishes with age, but I suppose once a cougar, always a cougar.
As a result, my brother and I merely chuckle at the receptionist’s come-on and sling our backpacks over our shoulders before striding down the hall. There are a dozen or so rooms set aside for private tutoring or small group meet-ups, and since this is our first session with a new tutor, I guess we’ve been granted one of the work rooms.
“You ready?” I ask my twin, my hand already on the knob.
“No,” he grunts. “I hate this fucking shit and you know it.”
I shrug because Brent and I will likely be going for the draft this year, and so our academic standing needs to be passable, but not superior. Frankly, the NFL doesn’t care and we’re much more focused on the upcoming combine than whatever these random professors have to say about the so-called “Great American Novels.”
But when the door swings open, both Brent and I grind to a halt because who sits at the table but our sweet plaything, Candy. She looks just as surprised to see us.
“Um ...what?” she sputters. “What’s going on?”
“You tell us, Candy. What the hell are you doing here?” I rasp.
“I go to school at Western. You do too?” she gasps, her cheeks going pale. I can’t help but notice that today, the young woman’s dressed prim and proper in a pink cardigan buttoned to the very top, as well as a knee-length denim skirt and cute sneakers. Her long blonde hair is tied up in a bouncy ponytail, without a speck of make-up on her face.
My brother and I share a glance.
“Yeah, there’s a chapter of Sigma Epsilon Chi at Western,” Brent drawls, setting his backpack down on a chair with a smirk. “We’re the Omegas.”
“But Western is so far from the cabin!” Candy squeals with shock, rooted to her seat and unable to stand. Now, her cheeks are bright red and she looks like she wants to evaporate, or disappear into quicksand. “Why don’t you go to a school closer to there?”
I grin while setting my backpack down as well.
“Why don’t you?” I ask pointedly. “Seems like we all traveled quite the distance for our little ... uh,rendezvousin the woods. But no harm, no foul, sweetheart. Your little secret is safe with us. Sweet Lies, hmmm? How did you get into that anyways, Candy? Or should I call you Cindy?”
The curvy girl’s mouth snaps shut, her blue eyes at once horrified and shooting sparks. Her pretty pout opens again, and then shuts with no sound because it seems our beautiful tutor wasn’t prepared to see her clients again ... and yet here we are.
7
Cindy
