The Frosh

Ryan Lancaster and Rachel Lancaster looked at Mira and Douglas's home. Ryan with skepticism; Rachel with enthusiasm. It was brightly colored, and the basement was empty and ready for the two freshmen at the university.

"I like your place, cousin!" Rachel said brightly. Their father, Woodrow Lancaster, had married a fetching blonde, so unlike the rest of the dark hair in the family, these two were blondes, and fraternal twins to boot. Rachel had honey blonde hair, professional highlighted, tanned skin, tiny AA-cup breasts, but a large, round ass that had the boys crowing back in their rural South Carolina town.

Ryan was lean and twinkish. His blonde hair was parted to the side and kept short, and his green eyes narrowly inspected everything around them.

"Thanks!" Mira said, hugging Rachel.

"I didn't expect it to be so --"

"Gay," Ryan said sourly.

"Hey now, Ryan, we're helping you both out here. Mind your manners." Douglas said. Ryan rolled his eyes, picking up his suitcase and going downstairs.

"I'm sorry, he's been such a grouch since we got on the bus," Rachel said apologetically.

"No problem. Do you want to help with supper?"

"I'd love to!"