“Take me,” she whispered as her pussy and cunt pulsed around us, wild and wet, squeezing tight. “I’m so yours.”
And those words threw Jason and me over the edge. We were lost men, lost in the wonders of Katy, the girl so sinful, so dirty and nasty, and yet so sweet at once. I roared, releasing gusts of sperm up her backside, coating that anal hole with my precious white as Jason lost it in her pussy, his dick jerking again and again as he blasted semen high up into her vaginal canal.
“Fuuuuuck,” he groaned, taking her lips between his. “Fuuuuck.”
The girl kissed back just as feverishly, her body pulsing with its own sweet rhythm, milking us of our man juice.
“Give it to me,” she chanted as we pumped and pumped. “Give it all to me.”
And shit, she was so sweet that my orgasm lasted forever, rolling straight into the next, penis pulsing and pumping as it blasted her again and again.
But ecstasy can’t go on forever, you’d die of a heart attack, so slowly, oh so slowly, we began the descent from heaven. I growled against the back of Katy’s neck, breathing in the sweet scent behind her ear, stroking one big hand up over her haunches and then down that curvy back.
“Fuck baby, you’re probably the only girl who can fit us both,” I complimented.
Katy stretched sinuously in response.
“Probably?” she asked archly, teasing. “Or you know for sure?”
“Honey,” I growled, nipping her ear as my dick dripped into her ass some more. “Doesn’t matter, no way no how, because you’re the only woman on our minds, the only one who can make us both go crazy.”
And Katy rewarded me then by clenching her anus, her ass cheeks clamping around my pole and milking me of one last burst, making me groan involuntarily.
“Oh good, Brent, I’m so glad to hear,” she mewled sweetly. “And you Jason?”
Our young gun had wised up this time.
“Baby,” he growled feverishly. “There’s no one for us but you, there never will be,” he rumbled, claiming her lips again.
Katy twisted against us then, her insides making us both moan with ecstasy, the sweet friction unbearable. Because it was true. There was only one woman for us, and she was right here, in our arms. I’m not saying that things were perfect, that we’d worked everything out, but what I am saying is that we were going to give it the old college try. Sure, a threesome wasn’t going to go over well in our little town, if people thought we were trailer trash before, then we were definitely cementing that image now. But what the fuck? We’d been apart and it had been fucking awful, an exercise in agony.
So yeah, Katy, Jason and I live in the present because life is too short. There’s no point going around in circles, chasing your tail when you’ve got everything you want right in front of you. And for us, that’s Katy Parks, curvy brunette, sensuous lover, our sweetheart with the generous body and even more generous smile. What’s going to happen, I don’t know because no one can predict the future. But for now, the trashy virgin was ours to keep … and to love.
EPILOGUE
Katy
So do you think I’m trashy?
Do you think I’m trash because I live in a trailer park?
Do you think I’m trash for adoring two men, two men who practically started out as my stepdad and stepbrother?
I don’t blame you if you do. Maybe I would too, if I were in someone else’s shoes.
But life teaches you lessons, and I’ve learned mine, word for word, cover to cover.
Because my particular lesson is that love can triumph … if you let it. I adore Jason and Brent, I appreciate everything they do for me, with me, to me. And it goes beyond just the physical. We’re bonded in a way that transcends words, each of us with our own lives but also completely intertwined, our bodies worshipping one another, our words caressing where hands can’t touch, our souls meeting with a bright, burning flame.
And I realize it sounds cheesy, but it’s true. Because we’ve established a system that works for now, one that keeps us together, yet keeps us decently shielded from prying eyes. First, Jason couldn’t keep living with Brent in that small space. They were two alpha males, two dominants who would continuously clash if they shared living quarters. So Jason moved into a house in the woods, one that he’d been building for the last year, one with plenty of room and chock full of his gorgeous woodwork, everything crafted by hand.
And that’s where we meet for our loving, to savor one another, spend time in each other’s company. No one knows that we’re together because I moved back in with my mom while Brent lives in his trailer, just like before. So we could be three old friends, gathering at Jason’s place, celebrating together, bonded because of our tumultuous past, Brent rescuing us from troubled childhoods.
But behind closed doors with the curtains drawn, deep in the woods, it’s so much more than that. We’re a triad, the three of us sharing, loving, fucking, and it’s a mature relationship, one where we ride the ups and downs together, reveling in our triumphs, consoling each other’s failures, absolutely everything out on the table, our hearts bare, our bodies naked.
And maybe one day we’ll go public, who knows? Because as every day passes, I’m less and less afraid of being called “trashy.” Everything is relative, and the way I feel about myself, the way I conduct myself, isn’t trashy at all. I’m just in a non-traditional relationship, one with two men, two lovers, and that’s not trashy in and of itself.
So yeah, we’ll see. I love Jason and Brent, and the feeling is mutual, returned a hundred-fold even. For now, it’s more enough, and as for stepping into the spotlight in the future? Well … you never know.
THE END
BONUS CHAPTER
Read about Brent’s wild encounter with two women in a strip club in Riding Him Hard FREE when you subscribe to my newsletter at http://eepurl.com/cgt2DD.
Continue on to read The Dirty Virgin: A Stepdaddy Romance.
The Dirty Virgin
~A May December Stepdaddy Forbidden Romance~
(Erotic Romance)
© 2016
By Cassandra Dee
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ABOUT THE BOOK
Me, a virgin? That’s right but the dirty kind.
My mom was the cleaning lady for Drake Markham and we moved into his mansion after they got married. He wasn’t around much when I was growing up, always traveling, head of an international conglomerate. But I saw enough to arouse my senses.
Because Drake was toned.
Tanned.
Alpha.
And utterly gorgeous.
But now I’m fucked because the big man’s finally noticed me.
He likes my curves.
He likes the way I walk.
And most of all, he likes the fact that I’m eighteen and a virgin.
Sure, he’s my stepdaddy, but there’s one thing that’s DEFINITELY going to happen!
DEDICATION
To all the ladies out there who were once dirty virgins …
Aren’t the memories delicious?
CHAPTER ONE
Cleo
Drake Markham has been watching me. I feel it more and more lately, ever since I turned eighteen. It looks like he’s eating breakfast or reading the newspaper but actually his eyes are trailing my body, taking in my every move.
I think it has something to do with my newly developed figure. Just six months ago, I was as skinny as a beanpole and looked like a boy. I had no boobs, no butt, no hips, straight as a ruler, yes sir. Add to that a terrible haircut and braces, and I was pretty much an ugly Pippi Longstocking complete with flaming red hair.
But I’ve changed these last few months.
“Mom,” I whispered, cheeks hot. “I need a bra. I can’t keep going around without one.”
It was so embarrassing to be talking about this at the breakfast table, b
ut it was the only time I saw Lorena now. My mom was constantly disappearing, usually with our pool boy Carlos, and I could never catch her alone. My face colored, the heat rising all the way to my hairline, and I could barely move I was so humiliated.
But I’d seen Drake look. Despite the fact that I hadn’t glanced his way, I’d sensed his awareness of my words, of me. His eyes had flicked in my direction instinctively and then away, shielded by the rustle of his newspaper.
But Lorena knew no discretion.
“Oh honey, of course I’ll take you,” she singsonged, not bothering to lower her voice. “My little girl is growing up,” she trilled. “How delightful!”
And it was true, I did need a bra now. My girls were Double D’s, they’d puffed up overnight from invisible A’s and I could no longer go around without some support, my jugs were now so juicy and pendulous that they strained against my baby tee, the nips poking out like pebbles.
“Can you go this weekend?” I asked tightly, my voice strained. There was no point in whispering anymore, Drake could hear everything.
“Oh honey, this weekend is so soon,” Lorena replied, waving her hand at me, blowing at her nail polish. “How about a month from now? I have so much going on,” she offered as an excuse, although not saying exactly what. Probably lying by the pool watching Carlos, or him watching her, whichever way it went.
But our conversation got my stepdad’s attention. He snorted before growling, “Lorena, I think you should take her this weekend.”
I looked at him with grateful eyes, gazing into those dark blue irises. When had Daddy become so handsome, so arresting? My skin sizzled as he looked back at me, the intensity in the air electrifying, almost buzzing with our shared heat.
But Mom was immune to it all, sensing nothing.
“Oh alright,” pouted Lorena. “I’ll take her this weekend. Fine, since you guys are ganging up against me.”
And it was then that my stepdad got up, scooting back his chair and standing, his massive frame dominating the tiny breakfast nook.
“I’ve got to get to work now,” he rumbled, elegant in his thousand dollar suit. “Lorena, Cleo,” he nodded before striding out, his gait smooth, the long steps swallowing the distance in seconds.
And I sighed. Drake Markham … successful businessman, pillar of the community, handsome, charismatic, a man about town before he met my mom. How did Lorena snag him, when women everywhere were drooling, throwing themselves in his path?
But it’s not that hard to understand because my mom is really pretty with a bubbling, engaging personality. She used to be one of his cleaning ladies, someone the agency sent to sweep and vacuum every weekend. After six months at the estate, Drake noticed her. Not that I was surprised. My mom is a bombshell, the kind who has curves busting out in every direction, lots of pizzazz and juice.
And I saw the way she flirted with him, the way she always happened to trip and fall into his arms when he was around, the way she made herself available in the most obvious manner. And Drake was a man, he noticed too. He liked her curves, the way her ass was round and juicy, and pretty soon they were getting it on on a regular basis despite the fact that Lorena scrubbed his bathrooms.
“Mom, where were you?” I’d ask from the dining table after Mom had another late night. “Was it the Markham Estate again?”
I was almost afraid to ask. Before Lorena signed up with this housekeeping service we’d been living paycheck to paycheck, with no benefits, no security, nothing except the cash my mom brought home each week. So I was afraid that her illicit encounters with the boss were going to bring our newfound financial security down with a crash.
And Lorena nodded.
“I was with Drake Markham,” she exclaimed, fanning herself. “He’s so handsome isn’t he?” she giggled. “Now excuse me, I’ve got to change,” she pranced off, not even bothering to hide the fact that her uniform was askew, her hair a mess, no doubt from the hot session she’d just had.
But I only shook my head, not knowing what to say. Don’t sleep with the boss? If the housekeeping service finds out, they’re going to fire your ass in a second and we’ll be living out of the car again? But these words had been said a thousand times before, so I just put my head down, turned back to my homework and kept my mouth shut.
But Lorena struck gold, literally. One morning when I got up, I found my mom making pancakes in the kitchen of our trailer.
“Honey,” she said, “Come take a seat, I made your favorite blueberry flapjacks!”
And I stumbled sleepily to the low bench, plopping myself down on the cheap velour. When had Lorena ever been up before noon? Usually she only took afternoon jobs because her late nights with Mr. Markham were so frequent now that morning bookings were impossible. So to find her puttering around in an apron, happily humming at the crack of dawn was a change.
“Mom, what’s going on?” I asked blearily, rubbing my eyes. “Why are you up?”
“Oh honey, I wanted to take care of you, make sure you had a nutritious breakfast before heading to school,” she admonished fondly from the griddle. “Besides isn’t blueberry your favorite? Here, and I got your favorite whipped butter too,” she said, plunking down a plastic tub of the good stuff in front of me.
But that was when I saw the ring on her hand. A shiny gold band adorned her ring finger, with a big diamond poking off of it.
“Mom,” I gasped, my voice trailing off. “What is that?”
“What is what?” she asked sweetly, pretending that she didn’t know, looking at me quizzically. But I wasn’t playing games.
“You know!” I said, staring at her hand. “Where is that from? Who gave it to you?”
“Oh honey,” my mom giggled. “It’s from Mr. Markham, who else? The man that I work for at Markham Estates, you know, the one I’ve been seeing.”
I was taken aback. I wasn’t aware that my mom was “seeing” someone, I’d thought it was fly-by-night sex at best, billionaire magnates don’t date their cleaning ladies. So I shook my head slowly at the Cinderella fantasy.
“No seriously Mom, where did you get that?” I asked, my brows lowered. Stealing from clients is a crime. Not many cleaning ladies do it because the risk is too high, losing a steady job isn’t something most of us can afford. So I was worried, really worried, that my mom was off her rocker and had put our livelihood in jeopardy by swiping the client’s stuff.
But my mom was in a good mood and wasn’t going to entertain my grilling.
“Honey, Drake Markham asked me to marry him last night and I said yes!” she trilled. “Aren’t you excited for me?”
I shook my head resignedly.
“Mom, this isn’t a joke,” I reprimanded. “Where … did … you … get that ring?” I finished in a huff.
But my mom just pooh-poohed at me.
“Cleo, you’re always stuck in the mud,” she said. “Drake Markham gave it to me, didn’t I tell you already? We’re getting married,” she repeated, and with that, laughed and started dancing around the kitchen, the trailer bouncing on its wheels from her excitement.
“No more scrubbing dishes … no more dirty laundry … no more bowing down … because I’m the boss now!” she squealed.
And I had to laugh too because my mom has had it hard as a maid, most people don’t realize the abuse she puts up with from employers. It goes beyond the pale, I’ve got so many stories of the horrible things that have happened, the insults, the mental abuse, the fact that she was dirt to them. So if it was true that Mr. Markham had asked her to marry him, then I was happy for her.
“Okay, when will the wedding take place then?” I asked, still a little wary. Good news didn’t come our way very often and it wouldn’t be surprising if the engagement dragged on forever, just to be broken off in the end. Clearly, we hadn’t had a lot of luck in our lives so far.
But Lorena surprised me again.
“This weekend,” she trilled happily. “We’re just going to have a civil ceremony because yo
u know, this isn’t the most traditional of relationships. So get ready baby, because we’re moving across the railroad tracks to the good side of town!”
And I laughed suddenly, breathless. Lorena’s happy mood was contagious and I felt elated, dizzy almost with the possibilities. After all, her new hubby had unlimited resources, we wouldn’t have to scrimp, save, and work our fingers to the bone in the hopes of a square meal. I hoped against hope that it wasn’t just a dream and that this new guy, Drake Markham, was going to be our savior.
CHAPTER TWO
Drake
Damn, the little girl was getting to be like her mother. Not in looks, but in attitude and behavior. Lorena and Cleo are about as different in looks as you can get. Lorena is all sultry dark hair, curves busting everywhere, sly, smoldering looks at the most inappropriate of times. Of course I’d noticed her in that housecleaning outfit. She’d hemmed the skirt until it was just inches below her puss and bent over all the time, flashing her ass, making sure that I saw her wet cunny because she purposefully didn’t wear underwear. Vacuuming was never so provocative.
And if you’re wondering why I didn’t report her to her agency for her “unprofessional behavior,” it’s because I was a horny bachelor, a forty-five year old guy who worked all the time. My real “wife,” as you’d call it, is my company, News Enterprises, and there’s no woman who can come between us.
His Captive: A Revenge Marriage Romance Page 76