Page 17 of Double Mountain Men

Misty giggles and nods again.

“Yes, that and the hair,” she says. “Both of you have great hair, and not the overgrown shag I’d expect of mountain men. Plus, this is a nice place. I don’t know how someone could afford it if they never work. What do you guys do? Are you remote one hundred percent?”

I shake my head.

“Naw, sweetheart, we just come out here to relax. We both have jobs in the city, which unfortunately, take up too much fucking time. I’m a venture capitalist, and Chris here is a CEO.”

“Wow,” Misty breathes, her eyes wide. “That must be a lot of responsibility.”

My buddy merely shrugs his broad shoulders, the plaid fabric stretching over his bulk.

“The company’s been in my family for generations, actually. Have you ever heard of the Pony Express?”

Misty’s brow creases for a moment.

“You mean, how riders used to deliver mail on horseback? That Pony Express?”

“Yeah, exactly,” Chris grins, showing off even white teeth. “My family was in that business, but it kept morphing through the years. Now, we’re a credit card company,” he drawls ironically. “Which is good because it means I never had to take up horseback-riding.”

“Otherwise you’d be playing polo, instead of lacrosse,” I drawl.

“Good point,” my buddy nods before flashing Misty another grin. “It’s a job. I’ve been at the company ever since graduating, which means I’ve been there about twenty-five years now.”

“Wow, that’s a long time,” Misty breathes, her eyes wide. “I thought people job-hopped all the time these days.”

I nod thoughtfully.

“Young people do, but we’re not exactly young, sweetheart. Chris and I are forty-five, and we came up in a different era. I’ve been with my firm for about twenty years now too. It’s just a different mentality.”

Chris chuckles.

“And don’t let this fucker downplay his accomplishments,” he drawls. “Brett here is an uber-successful venture capitalist. You’ve made billions for your firm, haven’t you?”

I shrug.

“I have an eye for the good shit. I can tell when a young company has good bones with a decent chance of becoming a unicorn. I can also differentiate between founders that are all hype, and founders that are the real thing. It’s people that make the difference.” But then I turn to Misty. “Don’t let us bore you with our shop talk, sweetheart. Tell us more about yourself.”

“Oh, there isn’t much to know,” Misty demurs, before taking a small sip of tea. “I’m just a student at Evergreen College, trying to get by as I put in my four years.”

I nod.

“And what’s your major?”

Misty flushes beautifully, smiling a bit.

“I don’t know because I’m just a freshman, but I’m thinking early childhood development. Maybe? I’m not sure yet. There’s still time before I have to declare.”

Suddenly, I get an image of the curvy girl, her belly bulging with pregnancy. Misty’s flushed and swollen, and utterly delectable as she stirs something on the stove. There’s a tot strapped to a high chair nearby, banging his spoon on the tray, and Misty steps away from the stove for a moment to press a tender kiss to his head. That’s when I see it: the child has eyes just like mine.

What the fuck? I’m done with this raising kids shit! I already have Brandon and Brent, who are adults now, thank fuck.There’s no way in hell I’m going through that again, and especially not with young children who need constant care.

Yet the image of Misty pregnant as a young mother makes possession flow through my veins.Mine, mine, mine, the voice in my head chants. My fingers twitch even as my cock aches because I want to cup her big breasts in my hands, gently skimming my fingertips against her stiff nipples. I want to press a kiss to her swollen belly, before worshipping her cunt and licking her through the worst of her practice contractions. Even crazier, I want her to have multiple children.Mychildren. A houseful of rugrats sounds about right.

I can tell that Chris is visualizing the same thing too, from the possessive flare in his navy eyes. His big hands grip into fists on his thighs, and I know he’s imagining running them over Misty’s pregnant form. He, too, wants to kiss her bulging belly to say hello to the child within, before worshiping her gravid form with his mouth, lips, and tongue. Then, we’ll both slide our dicks inside her pregnant pussy because there’s nothing like sex with a woman who’s expecting. Their pussies are uncommonly wet, and the contractions so powerful that I’ve literally been pushed out before.

The imagery is so powerful that we both lose it. Whatever Misty was saying about her potential college major falls on deaf ears as we rise to our feet. Then, I sweep the young woman into my arms, bridal-style, as she lets out a squeak of surprise.

“What are you doing?” she squeals, grabbing onto a thick bicep for balance. “Oh my god!”

---