The President and the Starlet: A Forbidden Romance

by Cassandra Dee

  Immediately the girl blushed. Because it was obvious what Tyler was referring to. His dick, out and proud during the ceremony, ready to do damage to this beautiful female’s pussy. And right now, the three of us were crouched around her in a tight circle, the bulges in our pants unmistakable.

  Katie licked her lips, eyes going wide as she took in the sight. Her breasts heaved under that ugly green dress, the outlines of her nips visible beneath the thin fabric. What would they feel like in my mouth? Hard, yet luscious? What would her twat taste like, leaking against my tongue?

  The brunette was shy, but again, weddings do strange things to women. Because hormones go crazy in this environment, and the girl flushed again beautifully before biting her lip, those big brown eyes wide yet excited.

  “Yes, I liked it,” she murmured, eyes cast down. But then she looked up quickly, taking us all in. “Is there more? I- I mean with all of you?” she whispered shyly, stammering a bit.

  And oh shit, but we were done for. Because this little girl was the answer to our dreams. We’d come to Nowhere USA expecting the worst, prepared to be bored out of our minds. In fact, the jet was refueling right now, ready to whisk us back to the excitement of big city life.

  But instead, everything turned on a dime. A curvy, innocent girl had just admitted to craving dick, and not just one dick, but three. Although she hadn’t said so explicitly, her body was already reacting, a warm, hungry cunt smell rising in the air between us, her nips likes rocks beneath the dress.

  So hell yeah, we’re gonna stay. We’re gonna stay in this godforsaken town. We’re gonna find out what this sweet female has to give … and take everything, until she’s screaming and moaning, bent over with no place to go.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Katie

  Oh my god, was our secret safe?

  Did they see Tyler pop his dick out during the ceremony?

  Did they see how I eyed it hungrily?

  Because I wasn’t expecting much from this wedding. After Elaine’s shit fit, I figured I’d stumble down the aisle, smile frozenly during the vows, and then go to the reception and be merry. A normal level of merry, not weird and drunken.

  But suddenly, the world was different. Regular Katie, the old me, is level headed. I’m the one who’s always the designated driver, the one people make fun of because I set a hard stop a two drinks per night.

  But suddenly, the world seemed like it was full of magic and endless possibilities. A golden glow limned everything, making each object shine. Even regular people like Elaine’s Aunt Ida seemed out of a fairytale, her glasses sparkling mysteriously, that tightly curled white hair snowy and pristine.

  It’s the influence of the groomsmen, Tyler, Kane and Mason. I know it deep in my bones, the certainty permeating my being. The three of them have transformed everything, making even the mundane extraordinary.

  Because Tyler, Kane and Mason are hands-down gorgeous, putting all the other guys to shame. And it wasn’t their thousand dollar suits. It was them, full stop. Tall and commanding, with bronzed skin and penetrating blue eyes that made me go liquid deep inside. Builds that were straight out of a muscle mag with broad shoulders and deep chests, narrowing to a vee. The three of them were male model perfect, except they weren’t male models at all.

  Because male models are twenty-one year old beanpoles, guys who have cereal for brains. By contrast, these dudes are titans of industry, people who have so much money that it simply didn’t matter anymore. Bobby had mentioned a little in passing. The Virgin Islands? Please, these folks had their own private islands. Gstaad? They owned a slope in the Austrian Alps. And as for this wedding, Tyler, Mason and Kane had allegedly flown in on a private plane, just the three of them in the cabin.

  So I was out of my comfort zone for sure. Because no one’s ever been interested in me. My hair’s too frizzy, the brown curls puffing up like a poodle sometimes. And I can’t find anything to wear, the shops only have stuff for girls who are half my size. So yeah, either I’m dressed like a grandma or a nun, take your pick.

  But for some reason, these guys found me attractive. Despite the fugly green dress, their eyes were glued to my form the entire ceremony. And when Tyler popped his cock out? I almost dropped to my knees right then, begging him for a taste, saliva heavy in my mouth.

  So when they surrounded me during cocktail hour, it’d been all I could do not to offer myself then. I wanted to rip off my dress and spread my legs, cooing and beckoning, urging them to use my body.

  But no, this made no sense. This is me, Katie Evans, boring girl. Not just dull, but a twenty-two year-old virgin. It’s crazy, I know. Most girls lose their virginity at fourteen, but here I am, a whole eight years older, and still intact. I’ve never had a man in there, not penis, not fingers, not anything. I’ve never even pushed a toy in. Sure, the vibrator rubs against my clit, making me scream and juice, but there’s no penetration. I guess being a romantic at heart, the thought of long, hard, live dick being my first makes my heart thump with anticipation.

  But now it was time for the wedding dinner. Suddenly, reality came crashing down. Oh god, oh god. Of course, as members of the wedding party, we were seated at the same round table, strewn with flowers and crystal.

  But instead of feeling relaxed and happy, nervous energy gnawed at me from the inside. Why oh why did I have to be wearing this hideous dress? Why was it such a gross-looking shade of green, making my skin look sallow? Why would Tyler, Mason and Kane be interested in me, anyways? Wouldn’t they rather have a model or actress? Or just someone thin?

  Oh no.

  Kill me now.

  Just vaporize my form, and I’ll be forever grateful.

  But no such thing was forthcoming. I’d used up my nine lives already and it was too late. So instead, I hid in the bathroom stall for a few minutes, catching my breath and trying to stabilize a little.

  There’s magic waiting to happen, the voice inside chimed. Let yourself go with the flow, Katie. Let the real you out.

  Bullshit, the devil on my shoulder sneered. Guys like that? They could get anyone. They’d never be interested in a big girl.

  But the devil had to be wrong. I knew it had to be wrong, my spidey sense can be off sometimes, but not this off. So forcing myself to stare into the mirror, I took stock of my form. Big and sassy yes, but also attractive in a luscious way. My caramel eyes were warm, the soft slope of my nose pert and delicate. They like me, I reminded myself fiercely. Don’t forget.

  And taking a deep breath, my feet carried me back outside. It felt like people were watching, but really, no one noticed. The guests laughed and chatted, glasses tinkling merrily, just like any other party.

  Except as I approached the table, all three men stood up causing e to flush with embarrassment and pleasure at once. Chivalry wasn’t dead after all, and this sweet gesture proved it. None of the guys around here ever did that; at least not for me anyway.

  “Thank you,” I murmured, ducking my head shyly.

  Speak up! scolded the voice inside. Stop mumbling like an awkward schoolgirl. You belong here, now act like it!

  So taking another deep breath, I met the gazes of the three men full-on, almost seared by the bright blue. Oh god, they were sexy, their looks knowing and hot, even in the middle of the crowded reception hall. Was it weird? Was it strange? It had to be, there were three of them, and only one of me. What girl does this?

  But there was no time to contemplate because the minute we were seated, all the other bridesmaids began throwing themselves shamelessly at Tyler, Kane and Mason. And I mean take-no-prisoners shameless. Stacy, a particularly aggressive blonde, began jabbering on and on about sports, although I knew for a fact she knew absolutely nothing about athletics. She must have read in some women’s magazine that guys like sports, thus her endless prattle.

  “Do you follow football?” she cooed, fluttering fake eyelashes. Strangely, there were glittery rhinestones attached to her falsies, and as the woman blinked, one dangled precari
ously before dropping into her food. Oh my god, oh my god. It winked in the light, everyone watching horrified as the girl jabbered on clueless.

  “I love the Tennessee Titans,” she simpered again. “They’re so fast and furious this season.”

  Please, girl. You just had a rhinestone drop into your food. Plus, it’s clear you’d rather roll in mud than toss a football and risk chipping a nail. But still, Stacy kept going on and on, reciting this and that with the rest of us immobile.

  Because the woman must have gotten up early this morning to comb through Google and search stats or something. She was tossing out names of players, teams and scores like she had her own fantasy football team. Part of me started to feel a little impressed by her dedication to get a guy’s attention. Unfortunately for her, her targets seemed bored with the stream of stats. Didn’t Cosmo tell you when to put a lid on it? The blonde hadn’t paused for a breath, let alone to let anyone else get a word in.

  But Stacy wasn’t the only one. Linda was just as bad, even worse truth be told. The redhead kept looking over at Mason, Tyler and Kane, and dissolving into helpless giggles like we were in a junior high cafeteria. I felt embarrassed just being in her presence. Literally, she kept stealing glances at the three men and then giggling behind her hand, like a little girl with a big secret.

  But these were just two stars of the show. Because the other ladies were twirling their hair and batting their lashes like they had nervous tics. Or maybe some of them actually were epileptics with a certain type of light sensitivity? I dunno, this was such a weird scenario.

  Realizing there was nothing I could do, I dug into my steak and quietly ate. The other bridesmaids ordered salads for their meal, but trust me to buck the trend. As a magazine editor, I make good money, but unfortunately, steak isn’t on my menu most nights, or even most weeks. It’s a treat to be savored, and I wasn’t gonna let this opportunity pass me by.

  So with my fork poised, I was just about to savor another bite when Tyler rumbled.

  “I see you like red meat.”

  My face flushed. It was true. The meat was really red, even a little bloody. A lot of people would find this gross and even barbaric.

  “Yes,” I muttered, putting my fork down. “Yes, I eat red meat.”

  But the voice inside spoke again. No more dithering! it scolded. You’re a grown woman, act like it! Be proud of who you are and your choices.

  So I straightened my shoulders and looked up, eyes direct.

  “I know I shouldn’t eat red meat because it’s supposedly bad for your cholesterol with a lot of fat. But it’s a special occasion, so I figured I’d indulge.”

  Mason raised a brow at my straightforward words.

  “Do you eat like this all the time?”

  Embarrassed, I mumbled something incoherent again. Because maybe I didn’t eat red meat all the time, but the larger question was obvious: Do I love to eat, in general? And the answer was a resounding yes. Indulgence is my middle name. I love ice cream, pastries, cheese, and anything with a lot of calories. Even worse, I love the things that girls aren’t supposed to love. Burgers. Steak. Onion rings and fries with ketchup all over. I love it all, and dropped my head shamefaced at the admission.

  But the men weren’t letting me get away with it.

  “Speak up honey, we can’t hear you,” growled the third groomsman named Kane.

  So taking a deep breath, I forced myself to buck up. It was too late to hide, and my gaze met his directly.

  “Yes, I eat meat, dairy, and just about everything. I know it’s not popular, but it’s not against the law either. I enjoy it,” I said simply. “Food is something to be savored and treasured, eating’s not a chore or a drag.”

  Around the table a hushed gasp arose as the other girls stared at me in shock. Every single one of them was stick thin and had ordered only salad, with dressing on the side. Their plates looked so miserable with a couple scraggly piece of lettuce and saggy-looking tomatoes, limp and unappetizing.

  Within seconds, Stacy started to berate me.

  “Katie, you shouldn’t eat like that,” she scolded. “It’s totally bad for you and damaging to the environment too. Plus, those poor cows suffer when they are slaughtered, didn’t you know? They cry. They cry big, fat tears just like a human.”

  Rachelle jumped in then.

  “Not to mention what it does to your body,” she said snidely, eyeing my curvaceous frame. “Eating all that shit makes you put on weight, didn’t you know? Look at yourself. You’ve got to know. Plus, it’s weight you can never get off, permanent poundage.”

  That was a lie. There’s no such thing as permanent poundage, it was a fictitious term coined by snake oil salesmen trying to sell diet products.

  So I shook my head.

  “No, I don’t think so,” came my reply, voice coming from far away. “Everything in moderation is my motto. I try to maintain a healthy diet that’s balanced, which includes all the food groups. And that means meat, fat and sugar, too.”

  A horrified gasp rose from the ladies at the table. I swear, they could be a Greek chorus, it was so predictable.

  “Meat? Like slaughtered animals?”

  “Fat? Like cellulite fat?”

  “Sugar? That’s the devil!”

  I sighed, trying not to roll my eyes. There’s been a crusade against sugar recently, all the health gurus swearing that sugar basically destroys your body. But I don’t believe it. There’s sugar in everything, even the most mundane foods like milk and fruit. Or are those bad for you now as well?

  But the girl clique just wouldn’t let up.

  “You need to stop,” hissed Annette, a freckly redhead. “You don’t know the damage you’re causing.”

  “To your body and to the environment,” chimed Olivia, her twin. “It’s permanent damage, the kind that can’t be reversed.”

  And Stacy went for the jugular then.

  “Besides, look at you,” she scoffed, eyes going up and down my frame rudely. “Anyone can see you’re out of shape, that dress is practically busting its seams. Ladies, don’t touch what Katie’s eating, and you’re guaranteed a good life!” she added snidely.

  The other girls dissolved into giggles like this was junior high again. And to my shame, tears started rising in my eyes, my vision blurring, chest going tight.

  But I wasn’t gonna let them see me cry. This wasn’t going to be gym class again, where I was the fat girl picked last for sports. So instead, I stood up hastily, tossing my napkin on the table.

  “Sorry. Please excuse me,” I said with as much dignity as possible, and turned, walking off to the back with what I hoped was a confident stride. Making my way blindly, I stalked to the hallway behind the restrooms, which was thankfully deserted.

  But then, my defenses crumbled and a low wail rang out from my chest. It was a choked sound, filled with pain, hurt and anger. Why, oh why was this happening? Flashbacks to high school spun in my mind, all the girls with straight blonde hair as tormentors. Why couldn’t they leave me alone? Was this some kind of bad voodoo that would follow me the rest of my life?

  The tears wouldn’t stop falling as humiliation and shame washed over me, shoulders hunched as I cried into my hands. Because there were some bad memories, for sure. Teresa from high school and her minions standing in a circle, pointing and laughing after my shorts split during some exercise routine.

  It wouldn’t have been so bad, if they hadn’t called attention to it right in front of Michael Mitchum, my crush since the second grade. And instead of rushing over to help me, Michael had merely stood there, helpless, before turning to go. Oh god! How could this be happening now? The parallels were umistakable except that this time, I was being humiliated in front of three gorgeous men, and not one.

  But suddenly, a low, deep voice interrupted my thoughts, startling me from my cry fest.

  “Oh!” came my unbidden gasp. Because as I wiped my eyes frantically, three huge male frames came into focus, dark and forbidding.
“It’s you,” I whispered. Not exactly my finest hour, to be sure, but I tried to make the most of it, wiping furiously at tearstained cheeks. Hopefully, my ugly crying hadn’t produced snot dripping from my nose. My hands quickly swiped at my eyes and nose again.

  “What are you guys doing out here?” came my soft cry.

  Adding to the humiliation and shame was now embarrassment at having them find me out here bawling like a baby.

  Silence for a moment as three pairs of clear blue eyes took me in.

  “Those other chicks were pretty nasty to you.” Tyler grunted. But I didn’t want anyone’s pity. So instead, my head shook, trying to downplay what happened.

  “It’s okay. I’m okay, I’m fine, it’s nothing. They’re going to notice if you guys are missing,” my words rushed out. “You should go back. I’ll be okay.”

  “Naw, sweet thing,” growled Mason. “It’s no big deal.”

  “In fact, the band’s already started up and people are dancing,” remarked Mason with a wry smile. “I doubt those harpies have noticed we’re gone. They’re whispering in a group somewhere, scheming on how to catch the bouquet,” he snorted. “They’ll probably fall all over each other trying to grab that thing.”

  And the mental image made me laugh involuntarily. Stacy and her minions punching each other, fighting over the bouquet? Pulling one another’s hair, screaming and fighting? I hoped so. In my heart of hearts, I hoped they embarrassed each other like that.

  So wiping my eyes once more, I let out a watery smile.

  “Thanks,” came my soft voice. “Thanks for checking on me. But seriously, I’ll be okay. Even if they’re scheming now, they’ll notice your absence soon enough. So you better go,” were my final words.

  And standing, I got up. Oh god, this dress was even worse than before. My tits were practically busting out the top now, the hem looking worse for wear. There’d been a few loose threads previously, but now there was a giant smudge from where I’d sat on the floor, plus a tear that ran straight up the front. I was Cinderella for sure, wearing rags while all the other girls were dressed in ballgowns.