The Broussard Sisters Ch. 01

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He was one hot guy and they were two nerd girls.
11.1k words
4.66
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Part 1 of the 12 part series

Updated 10/13/2022
Created 09/12/2009
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JimBob44
JimBob44
5,053 Followers

*Author's Note: Any persons engaging in sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.

**Author's Note: If you are looking for a story of lots and lots of gratuitous sexual activity, this isn't it. Even though this is in the 'Group Sex' Category, it is a slowly developing romance. Romance seemed to be missing from many of the stories I've read in that category, so I decided to write one.

*

Saint Thomas Aquinas High School in Bender, Louisiana was getting ready for the second half of the school year; Christmas break had come to an end. The thirty-four students in the senior homeroom chattered loudly, catching up with one another, telling each other what they'd gotten for Christmas, where they'd gone for vacation.

Candy and Cindy Broussard entered the classroom, but no one paid them any mind. They were used to that; they didn't fit into any clique in their high school. They sat together and continued their conversation.

Cindy did look around and her heart did a little flip-flop at the sight of Paul Robichaux. He was so handsome, tall at six foot two, fourteen inches taller than her, with blond hair cut into a crew cut, laughing blue eyes twinkling. If he wasn't already handsome enough, when he smiled, which he did often, his left cheek had a dimple in it. His face was square, strong. His shoulders were broad from athletics, and from hard work. He was a full back on the St. Thomas football team, a guard on the basketball team, and played second base for the baseball team. And found time to help his father on the car lot, as well as maintain a solid 'B' grade point average.

Cindy Jenson, Paul's girlfriend looked over at Cindy Broussard and made a point of goggling at the red head, drawing the laughter of her little entourage. Cindy Broussard blushed a hundred shades of red and looked back to Candy, who was blushing as well. She too had been staring at Paul.

No, the Broussard sisters didn't get much attention, and when they did, it was usually negative.

Chapter 1

In 1989, Bill Broussard and his wife, Emily, had bought the three bedrooms, two-bathroom house on Cort Street when he'd been hired on at the mattress factory. The move from Baylor Lake to Bender was a forty mile one, but for the man who had been looking for work for the past nine months, it was a huge step forward. From the back seat of their car, Cynthia prattled on and on, asking a million questions and not waiting for any reply.

Finally, they pulled up to their new home and backed into the driveway.

"We're here!" Cindy announced needlessly.

From next door, Jake Broussard and his wife Bobbi, came out to meet their new neighbors. Behind them, five-year-old Cassandra followed.

"How do?" Jake greeted Bill. "I'm Jake Broussard, my wife Bobbi, my daughter Candy."

"I'm Candy," Candy said, as if there would be any doubt about who was the daughter, who was the wife.

From behind Emily, Cindy peered shyly out at the blonde haired girl. She smiled when she saw Candy looking at her. Candy smiled back and they both giggled when they realized they both had a slightly buck toothed grin.

"I'm Bill Broussard, my wife Emily, and our daughter Cindy," Bill smiled and the two men shook hands.

"Need a hand with anything?" Jake asked.

"Van's on it's way, but got a bunch of men doing the hard work," Bill said.

"Well, you're not going to feel like cooking," Bobbi said to Emily, "Y'all come on over at six for dinner, hear?"

"Oh that's so sweet!" Emily accepted.

"Want to come see my room? I've got all kinds of dolls," Candy asked Cindy and the two girls ran to the house.

----

Bill and Jake drove into work together each morning, Emily managed to get on at First Union Bank, and Bobbi, being a 'stay at home' mom, watched the two girls.

Summer came to an end and both Candy and Cindy were enrolled into Kindergarten classes at Saint Richard Elementary School.

"Cassandra Broussard," Mrs. Mouton called out and Candy answered.

"Cynthia Broussard," Mrs. Mouton called out and Cindy answered.

"Are you two sisters?" Mrs. Mouton smiled at the two little girls that sat next to each other.

They looked at each other, smiled widely and looked back at Mrs. Mouton and nodded in unison.

"Yes Ma'am," they both agreed.

Their parents chided them for telling a fib in school, but none of the parents were really mad at the girls.

----

When they hit puberty, it appeared that Candy and Cindy were doing their best to be sisters. The bumps on their chests were matched by the bumps on their faces; puberty brought on horrible acne for them both. They also needed braces; most of their peers picked on them unmercifully for the buck toothed grins the girls sported. They wore their hair identical to each other, shoulder length, parted on the left, had the same color bookracks (blue, their favorite color), and even wore the same size uniforms.

More than one morning, Emily would call Bobbi and beg the other woman to 'borrow' one of Candy's uniforms, none of Cindy's was clean, or one needed a button, or whatever the excuse was.

----

"This is it!" Candy excitedly told Cindy when they entered their Senior Homeroom at St. Thomas Aquinas. "We're seniors this year! No more being losers!"

"Uh huh," Cindy said. She didn't believe that being seniors would change their status one iota. As far as most of the other students were concerned, the Broussard Sisters were losers, had always been losers, and would always be losers. She wasn't exactly sure why. They weren't ugly, both had small round faces, warm brown eyes, snub noses and nice enough personalities.

The braces hurt horribly, but it was worth it. Their smiles were no longer the buck toothed grins, but were straight, white smiles. Both girls religiously scrubbed their faces with the medicated scrub their doctor prescribed and the results were getting there, but there wasn't much either one could do about their Thirty one A chests, twenty nine inch waists, or thirty four inch hips.

"We look like pears," Cindy had told Candy as they stood in their bathing suits and looked in the department store mirror.

"We are a pair," Candy laughed.

"Not that kind, goober," Cindy said. "Pears, like the fruits, you know?"

Candy looked again and had to agree. Their hips were wider than their busts, and their thighs were like tree trunks. Even if they hadn't been so short, it would still be hard to disguise their pear shaped bodies.

"Want to pad them?" she asked, pointing to her chest.

"You can if you want, I'm not going to," Cindy said. "That's stupid, like no one can tell, you know I mean, look at Molly, and it's so obvious.?"

"Yeah, you're right," Candy said and looked again at her small chest.

They are pretty, though," Cindy mused and looked again at the blue bikinis they were trying on.

"Let me guess," Bobbi smiled as the girls came out of the dressing room. "Blue, right?"

"Well, of course," both girls rolled their eyes.

----

True to Cindy's premonition, Senior Year did not bring on any newfound popularity for the Broussard Sisters. Paul Robichaux did not push his girlfriend aside and walk across the room to tell one or the other one of them that he had been blind and stupid not to see their overwhelming beauty.

None of the males did. The eighteen-year-old girls spent every Friday and Saturday night at home with each other and their families.

Chapter 2

Paul Robichaux met Cindy Jensen at the same time that every one else in Bender, Louisiana did. Her father, Doug Jensen, recently divorced, moved her and her older brother to Bender from Oakland, California, when he was hired on as a third shift supervisor at the mattress factory. She sashayed into the ninth grade, strutting with all the confidence of a queen over her minions. As far as she was concerned, she, being from California, was so much better than these alligator humping Cajuns. But one look into Paul's blue eyes and that smug superiority evaporated.

"Hey, I'm Paul Robichaux," he said and smiled.

"I'm Cindy, we just moved here from California," she said.

They went to the movies in Lafayette that weekend, she let him kiss her, and they were an exclusive item ever since.

Candy and Cindy Broussard watched as Paul and Cindy entered the Senior Year homeroom, holding hands, even though the students' handbook specifically said that you weren't supposed to do that, and if Brother Dominick caught them, they could get a detention. Both sighed under their breaths, looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders in defeat.

Homecoming Prom came and went and neither of the two was asked by any of their peers. They stayed at home and played Scrabble with their parents. Jake was a consummate cheater, making up words as he went. They laughed and screamed when Candy actually won for the second time in a row, and popped popcorn.

Then they went to bed and dreamed of having been asked to the Prom by Paul.

Paul Robichaux and Cindy Jensen were, of course, the King and Queen of the Prom, and both girls had to agree, the student body had made the right choice.

----

Candy felt the sting of tears coming on when she heard the gossip; after the prom, Cindy had let Paul go all the way.

Now she would never be able to win him away from Cindy Jensen. Once a boy had gone all the way, he was that girl's for the rest of time. Or so she assumed. None of her other peers had gone all the way. If they had, they weren't talking about it.

Christmas break did nothing to break the barrier between the Broussard's and the rest of their peers. They seemed to be as invisible as ever.

----

"We need to talk, okay?" Cindy Jensen told Paul as the bell rang for first period. "At lunch, all right?"

"Sure," Paul agreed and got his Spanish textbook out.

Cindy ran off to her American History class. Paul looked around at the other students that remained in the homeroom class for first period Spanish and Candy wanted to gasp; did Paul Robichaux just smile at her?

At lunch, Cindy Jensen sat at her usual table, with a smirking Bill Baggett sitting next to her. Bill Baggett was a handsome boy in his own way, with dark curly hair, dark eyes, and a slight scar under his left eye. He was a large boy, nearly six foot four and weighing in at two hundred and fifty two pounds. He played football, Defensive Tackle and second string Center when needed. Like Paul, he also played basketball, but did not play baseball. He just didn't like the sport was the excuse he gave others when asked about it.

Paul nodded in greeting to him as he sat down across from Cindy. Cindy smugly looked at Paul.

"I toll you we needed to talk, huh?" she began.

Paul wondered what it was about the brunette that had attracted him in the first place. She was cute, to be sure, with her long brown hair, hazel eyes, and pouting lips. Her chest was pretty impressive, a thirty-six D, her waist was narrow, only twenty-four inches around, and a nice little bubble butt. But her beauty didn't reach her insides; inside she was a haughty, ice-cold bitch.

----

Yes, she'd let him go all the way with her on the night of their Homecoming Prom. He'd gone down on her, munching on her far too hairy bush until she finally sighed and told him to 'go ahead, get it over with.'

She lay there on the back seat while he tried frantically to bring some pleasure to her before he finally shot his load into his condom. She smiled up at him as he grunted and wheezed through his own climax, then jammed her tongue into his mouth.

"Come on, I want to show my Daddy my crown," she said and playfully shoved him off of her.

That kiss was the only affection she'd shown through the entire episode. Each time afterward, it was the same thing. He would try his best to satisfy her, to bring some pleasure to her, and fail miserably. But she never complained, just let him grunt and thrust into her.

--------

"Uh huh," he said and dug out his two peanut butter and apple jelly sandwiches.

"Um, you know how you're always begging me to suck your dick?" Cindy said and Bill's smirk grew wider.

"Yeah," Paul said, blushing at Cindy's bringing such a personal matter up in front of anyone else.

"Well, I thought to myself," Cindy said, smirk matching Bill's. "Gee I better practice, I wouldn't want to get it wrong, you know?"

"So I offered to help," Bill interrupted.

"Mighty nice of you there, Bill," Paul said sarcastically.

"Least I could do," Bill guffawed.

"But, after I sucked Bill off, I thought, wow, his cock's twice as big as Paul's, I bet it'd feel real nice going in my pussy," Cindy went on.

"Well, congratulations, Bill," Paul said.

"Thanks," Bill said.

"But just remember, Bill, if she's willing to fuck around behind MY back, what's to stop her from fucking around behind yours?" Paul asked and continued to eat his sandwich.

"'Cause I wouldn't do that," Cindy spat.

This wasn't going at all like she'd hoped. Paul was supposed to be crushed, or at least hurt by her betrayal. She'd hoped for a 'promise' ring from Paul for Christmas, so when she didn't get it, she decided that Paul had to go. That's when she set her sights on Bill Baggett.

Bill Baggett's father was the comptroller for the mattress factory; the Baggetts lived in a very nice home, much better than the trailer she and her father and older brother shared.

"See you around," Paul smiled as he finished his banana.

----

News travels fast, bad news (or delicious gossip) travels even faster.

"Oh my God!" Cindy squealed as they climbed into the Toyota Celica they'd bought.

"I know!" Candy gasped.

"I heard she had sex with Bill Baggett over the Christmas break!" Cindy whispered, even though they were alone in the car.

"I know!" Candy exclaimed, as if she had not been standing right next to Cindy when Molly and Kay were discussing it.

"There's no way I'd pick Bill Baggett over Paul Robichaux," Cindy declared.

"I know!" Candy agreed and pulled out into the stream of cars leaving St. Tomas Aquinas.

Chapter 3

"Tough break, sport," Bob Robichaux said as he lay on the mechanic's creeper.

"Yeah," Paul agreed.

Secretly, Bob was glad; he did not like Cindy or her arrogant father, or her equally arrogant brother. They all acted as if California was such a great state but had no answer when Bob would ask them, "If it is such a great place, what're you doing here? Oh, that's right, no jobs."

"Give it a try," Bob said and Paul turned the ignition of the 1957 ford Thunderbird. Still nothing.

"Damn it!" Bob exclaimed. "This son of a bitch will be the death of me!"

Paul smiled; his father said that about all the classic automobiles they worked on. They'd sweat and struggle, clean and recline engine parts, do some more sweating, and then finally get the automobile going.

"See you sold the Bellaire," Paul remarked.

"Yeah, and of course, as soon as I put the 'Sold' sign on the mother fucker, every cock sucker within a hundred miles wants it," Bob said and slid out from under the car.

"Look at the fuel line?" Paul suggested.

"First thing I looked at, after the carburetor," Bob agreed.

"Intake valve?" Paul asked.

"Um," Bob thought, then slid back under the car. Paul bent over the engine and did a visual inspection.

"Try it now," Bob called out and Paul smiled. Both he and his father knew it would amount to the same thing.

"Damn it!" Bob grunted. "Any more bright ideas, Einstein?"

"Um, yeah, how about we close up and get something to eat?" Paul said and closed the hood of the car.

"Yeah, good idea," Bob agreed and slid out from under the car.

Bob was an older version of his son, blond hair cut short, blue eyes twinkling. He had some gray in his hair, some crow's feet at his eyes, a bit of a beer gut, 'A keg, instead of a six pack,' he'd joke. But there was no mistaking father and son.

Bob's wife, Paul's mother had passed away when Paul was only four years old, leukemia. Bob had dated; not that there were many single women in Bender, Louisiana, but did not spend a single night without thinking of his wonderful, beautiful Rebecca.

"Baby, you should see our boy," he'd tell the framed photograph of her. "God! What a man! You'd be so proud of him!"

----

Cindy Jensen found out that pleasure can very quickly turn into pain when being pounded by nearly ten inches of sausage. Telling Bill that he was beginning to hurt her only seemed to spur him on.

His idea of foreplay was simply to maul her breasts, then jam a finger at her brown thatch until he felt moisture. The idea of going down on her produced a look of absolute disgust. Of course, he was fine with her sucking him off, but actually slapped her when she tried to kiss him afterward.

"Think I want to kiss you after your mouth's been on my cock?" he screamed at her. "What the fuck's wrong with you?"

Cindy Jensen was beginning to think that maybe she'd made a mistake.

----

"So, go over and talk to this boy," Emily smiled to her daughter.

"Oh, yeah, right Mom," Cindy huffed. "What'd I supposed to say? 'Hi, want to go out sometime, now that Queen Cindy has dumped you?'"

"Maybe not in those words," Emily smiled.

----

"Bob Robichaux's boy?" Bobbi asked. "The one that runs the classic car lot?"

"Uh huh," Candy agreed and shoveled some more of the homemade enchilada into her mouth.

"Slow down," her father teased.

"Good looking young man," Bobbi agreed.

"I know!" Candy agreed.

"So when are we going to have him over for dinner?" Jake teased.

"God, I wish!" Candy squealed.

Jake and Bobbi smiled and shook their head. Squealing seemed to be Candy's main form of speaking.

----

"I would let him," Candy confided in her best friend.

"Duh, no kidding," Cindy said.

She had the cell phone cradled between shoulder and ear, not a very comfortable position, but it left her hands free.

Her left hand squeezed and pressed her small breasts. With her right hand, she traced the outside of her pussy, fingertips brushing aside her red hair to get to the wetness. Her fingernails scraped lightly across the puffy outer lips, then up and down the slit, then inside to bump against her clitoris. She had to grit her teeth whenever her finger hit that magic button; she didn't want Candy to know she was masturbating to thoughts of Paul, although she was sure Candy was doing the same thing.

Candy had her earpiece in so that her right hand could pinch her nipples and her left hand could trace up and down her slick pussy lips. She knew Cindy was masturbating; her breathing was so erratic.

"I heard Cindy didn't want to suck his weenie," Candy murmured. "I'd suck it!"

"Yeah?" Cindy asked. "You'd know how?"

"Well, no," Candy admitted. "But it can't be that hard; Kay did it to Brian, and she's dumb as a box of rocks!"

"Mm-hmm," Cindy agreed.

She was so close, imagining taking Paul in her arms, getting sweet kisses, open mouthed kisses, feeling his muscles. He'd be naked, as would she, then he'd press her breasts against her chest, and she'd hear him say 'Beautiful' to her.

"Oh!" she moaned out loud as she orgasmed.

Both she and Candy burst into gales of giggles, both knowing for sure what the other was doing.

"Cindy Broussard," Emily's voice cut in. "It is bed time, young lady!"

"Yes ma'am," Cindy called back.

"I got to go," she whispered to her best friend. "I love you so much."

Chapter 4

Paul actually laughed when Cindy strolled in, trying to look haughty. If she thought he was going to be all teary eyed over her cheating on him, she was sorely mistaken. Sure the break up did hurt a little; his ego had been bruised pretty badly by her betrayal, but he'd survive.

He looked around the room; out of the thirty-four seniors, nineteen of them were females. Cindy Jensen and her little entourage were of course eliminated, but that still left thirteen possible dates to fill the gap, however narrow that might be, left by Cindy.

JimBob44
JimBob44
5,053 Followers