The Trashy Virgin: A Menage Romance Read online

  Katy moaned again, grinding a little against Brent, her pussy and ass still stuffed full but the big man pinched her nipple before forcing her chin up, looking into her eyes.

  “Answer Jason,” he ground out. “What’s up with that fucking Jock dude?”

  And despite the ripples of sensation running through her body, the embers of arousal beginning to burn again, Katy answered.

  “I wasn’t sure,” she said in a small voice. “I mean, I’m eighteen and I’ve never been with anyone else before. You guys are my first, and even though I’ve been behaving like a whore around you,” she paused and blushed for a moment, “You’re my first and I just didn’t know.”

  I was fucking confused at this point.

  “What do you mean, you didn’t know? You wanted to taste his dick, feel a third dick in your body before you were sure about us?”

  I should have felt bad about the nasty words and the way I was treating her, but tonight’s events had been too hurtful, seeing her with another man.

  “No!” the brunette gasped, turning to look at me with shocked eyes. “Of course not! I’d never have sex with someone else,” she paused. “It’s just that … I’ve never dated before, I wanted to see what it felt like before we started our, um, triad.”

  I paused for a moment.

  “So let me get this straight,” I began slowly. “You wanted to go out with another man, get a free popcorn and soda because that would tell you that our threesome was doable,” I said sarcastically.

  But Katy was no shy pansy. She snorted then, eyes flaring.

  “Of course not, stop being mean. Sure, you’re an expert at burying your dick in my body, but has it ever occurred to you that maybe I want to be treated like a princess, maybe I want to go out to dinner sometime, be courted, have a romantic meal like any other woman? I’m not some Cinderella, you know.”

  And I stopped in my tracks, a little miffed. Wasn’t it clear that we adored her, with the way our eyes tracked her every move, the way we’d literally followed her to the theater, stalking her, jealous alphas staking our territory?

  But Brent stepped in then. The older man was suave, soothing.

  “Of course, honey, of course,” he rumbled deep in his throat. “We get it. You’ve never been with anyone and wanted to spread your wings before settling down,” he said smoothly.

  “Yes, exactly,” she sighed with exasperation. “And I don’t know why he,” she paused to shoot me a glare, “doesn’t get it. Because we haven’t worked anything out. We haven’t hammered out any logistics, how we’re going to share, how this is going to work. So yeah, I took advantage of the waiting period. And so what? You could have too.”

  I growled then.

  “You’re right, we could have but we didn’t,” I snarked. “You didn’t see us with other women. You didn’t see me with Ms. Smith or Brent with that waitress. You know why? Because we’re happy with the way things are, we don’t need external approval.”

  Katy looked ready to jump me then, eyes flaring, her small hands forming claws. But Brent grabbed her before she could get testy.

  “Let’s calm down,” he soothed. “Let’s not get crazy, you’ve got us in your body Katy, this isn’t the time to fight.” Because yeah, my dick was still in her ass and Brent was buried in her pussy, so it was amazing that we were even having this conversation.

  But Katy couldn’t be stopped.

  “You guys don’t get it,” she said in a low voice. “Things are different for women than men. I keep harping on logistics because when people find I’m sleeping with both of you? I’ll be labeled the town whore. That’s why I keep pushing for details, details, details.”

  And that stopped me short because she was right. The world has a lot of double standards, and this was one that benefited Brent and I. As males, we could use as many girls as we liked, even share women, and people would see us as gods, huge, hung studs with multiple notches on the bedpost. But for Katy, it was different. Any whiff of scandal, any hint that she was doing two men at once, loving us, sharing her body, mind and soul with two men was death to her reputation, she’d be labeled a whore with a big scarlet letter, shamed and treated like a leper.

  So I paused, troubled. Buying time, I eased my dick out of her ass, watching it exit smoothly, the girl trembling and shaking as my length reappeared, deep pink and lightly smeared with white. And oh fuck, but a bit of cum dripped out of her butt, smearing against Brent’s dick as he pulled out as well, his shaft slickly shiny, Katy’s pink lips hugging him tight.

  “Oh!” she cried, boobs trembling as her holes gaped. “Oh!”

  And the ramifications hit home for me. Because now there was white dripping from both holes, a mix of mine and Brent’s semen trailing from her body, and it looked fucking good, jacked me up to sixty miles an hour just like that. But the thing is most people don’t think that way. Folks are judgmental, they hate what they can’t understand and knowing that Katy had two men’s semen mixing in her, coating her sweet privates, would cause havoc, labeling her “that trashy girl.”

  So I paused again, chest heaving, dick wet against my thigh.

  “So what do we do?” I ground out. “What’s the solution?”

  Brent, ever the smooth operator, stepped in.

  “I think a better question is what Katy wants,” he rumbled, seizing her eyes with his. “Tell us, baby girl, what do you want? You’ve made it clear that you have some reservations, that you’re not sure how this is going to work out despite the fact that Jason and I love you,” he said smoothly.

  And I nodded furiously then, because if nothing else, I adored this girl, absolutely worshiped her, and wanted what she wanted, even if it broke our hearts.

  “But,” Brent continued, “our set-up is non-traditional, for sure, and there’s no clear path forward. We’d have to tread lightly and figure out how to do this while we’re doing this,” he added wryly. “So what do you want, little girl? Is there something we can do to help you decide, help you figure out the right path for you?”

  And Katy sat up a bit then, still nude, her huge breasts pendulous and creamy, her twat and ass sticky with our combined come. But those brown eyes were serious as she gazed at us, stirring me to the core.

  “Brent, Jason, I don’t know,” she said softly, the fight gone out of her. “I just don’t know. I’m so new to this, to dating, to men, and to ask me to commit to a threesome right away is scary, you know? I mean, I love you so much, but the ramifications are insane. I guess,” she said, hanging her head a bit, “I just need some time. I asked for the forty-eight hour waiting period because I wasn’t sure, and now,” here she paused and took a deep breath, “I need a little longer.”

  My big form jolted then.

  “What does that mean?” I said harshly. “You need seventy-two instead?”

  Brent threw a glare my way, but Katy just sighed, exhausted.

  “No, not that,” she said softly. “I think … I think I need longer, you know? I don’t know how long is enough, but my mom got back from the hospital yesterday and the heat and electricity have been turned back on in our trailer. So I guess,” and here she bit her lip, looking down at the coverlet, “I guess I’ll move back in with her for a while and see how things go, see if I can figure things out a little.”

  I was really fucking horrified now. It made no sense to me whatsoever. All three of us had acknowledged that we were in love, and yet Katy was fucking moving out? How did that help anything? What the fuck?

  But Brent was more circumspect. He nodded, those blue eyes piercing, but understanding all the same.

  “Of course,” he rumbled, taking her hand in his. “Of course, we respect your boundaries, and it’s no big deal,” he shot another glance my way. “Tina’s trailer is just on the other side of the park, it’s a ten minute walk at most. It’s no big deal, right Jason?” he said, that deep voice threatening.

  But that was the thing. Ten minutes away from my little girl was too much, I’d go nuts
without this beautiful body, without her sweet smile, her knowing glances.

  “Fuck no,” I ground out. “You’re staying.”

  But the brunette just shook her head and took my square hand in one of hers, sitting up all the way now, beautiful jugs on display, that glorious mass of curls framing her angelic face.

  “Jason,” she began. “I love you. I love you both, but please, please, please just give me a little space, okay? I promise we’ll work it out somehow.”

  And my heart crumped in my chest because seeing the plea in her eyes, the soft tone of her voice, did me in. I couldn’t say no. I loved this woman, adored everything about her, her body, her personality, her need for independence, fuck, even her ability to foresee what could, might, should happen. Katy was sharp as a tack and wanted to consider and contemplate various scenarios before committing to us, she needed to hammer out more of the details, do some deep thinking on her own and absorb the future before it became real.

  So what choice did I have? The brunette’s happiness was the most important thing in the world to me, and I relented.

  “Fine,” I growled. “But know that we’re waiting. Brent and I,” I said nodding to the older man, “are always here for you.”

  And the little girl grasped both our hands then, the three of us forming a circle on the big bed.

  “Yes, I know,” she said softly. “And that’s why I love you.”

  And with a deep exhale, my heart turned over in my chest. Because I worshipped this woman and if she needed time to spread her wings, explore her surroundings, see a little more of the world, then I’d give it to her. If you love something, let it go right? But the old adage had never said how painful it would be to watch something fly away, waiting with bated breath to see if it’d come back.

  The thing is, we had no choice, Brent and I. We had no choice because we couldn’t be any other way, we loved the brunette too much, treasured her, absolutely worshipped the supple female. So there was only the waiting … and I didn’t know if I’d survive.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Katy

  I flipped through the pages of a book slowly, reading but not remembering anything, my eyes on the words but unable to see.

  “Katy,” interrupted Tina. “Kate-sters, what’s going on with you?”

  I glanced up at my mom, sighing.

  “Oh hey mom, didn’t hear you come in. How was counseling today? Did the therapist say anything useful?”

  My mom snorted.

  “Honey, I know everything that doctor is going to say before it even comes out of his mouth,” she said dryly. “Trust me, it’s just the same shit over and over again, the same twelve-step process, they never switch anything up.”

  And I sighed. My mom doesn’t have an addiction but a lot of therapies have adapted AA’s twelve-step program to various scenarios. In this case, my mom had a case of severe anxiety and depression but somehow her therapy group was always reciting the AA pledge, droning the words.

  “If you don’t like Dr. Jenkins, do you want me to find another doctor for you?” I asked slowly. “Our insurance isn’t bad, I’m sure there are other providers close by.”

  But my mom snorted.

  “Katy, honey, our insurance is bad, and there’s no one else. Why do you think there’s always a line to see him, why it’s so hard to get an appointment? Because none of us can go anywhere else, that’s why.”

  And I sighed. My mom had a point. We’re poor without a lot of options, and were lucky to see Dr. Jenkins every other week. It was either him or no one, that was the sad truth.

  So I fiddled with my book again, stuck in the smallness of my life, going through the motions of a high school girl without really living it, my heart locked inside a case of ice. Because this is what life is like now. I live on the other side of the trailer park with my mom, helping her get better, doing school work, and on the outside I look fine, but inside, I’m a mess. I can’t get over what happened between me, Jason and Brent, and I have no clue what to do next. There’s so much that’s already happened and my mind is tangled, twisted, tying myself in such knots that I could scream. There are nights when I wake up at night in a cold sweat, bolting up in bed only to have it all come crashing down on me again, the enormity of the situation, the incredible stuck-ness that I feel, with no clear answers, no path forward. Because I have no idea how to resolve the situation. I absolutely love Jason and Brent, and they’d made clear that they’d take whatever I could give. But the thing is, how in the world would this work out? I was going to be pinned with a scarlet letter if I did the trio, if I entered into a relationship with them. And I wasn’t ready to be labeled “that trashy girl,” not yet, maybe never.

  And Tina could sense my inner conflict, the tension thick in the air.

  “Baby girl,” she drawled, leaning back and lighting up a cigarette. “What’s going on with you? Why haven’t you seen Brent or that other guy, Jason, since I’ve been back?” She shouldn’t have been smoking, but with her issues, that was the least of her problems.

  “Why? What’s it to you?” I asked quickly, a little too sharp.

  And my mom let out a throaty chuckle which ended up in a series of hacking coughs, really painful sounding with a deep rattle in her chest. But nervous breakdown or no, my mom is smart, with an uncanny sixth sense about people and their emotions, and as her daughter, I was especially under the microscope.

  “Well, there’s the fact that you lived with them while I was gone,” she drawled, taking another deep drag. “You lived with two men for a year, ate their food, slept at their place, watched their TV, and as far as I know, haven’t thanked them for their generosity. So it’s strange that you’ve cut off all contact, wouldn’t you say?”

  And I flushed. Because I had thanked Brent and Jason, in a way. I’d fallen in love and thanked them with my body, gifting them my cherries, letting them take and taking for myself along the way. But how could I explain that to my mom? So I just mumbled, “I said thank you when I left.”

  Tina shook her head again, taking another deep drag.

  “No baby girl, there’s more to it than that. You’ve been distracted since I got back, cloudy, dreamy, looking like a lost soul. What’s going with you? Out with it baby, I’m the queen of therapy.”

  I choked a little, but before I knew it, the whole story came spilling out, how it had started so innocently with a few looks, a few heated glances and then become a full-on affair, both men loving me, our bodies wrapped around one another in sensual delight.

  And my mom’s no dimwit, she heard every word that I said, every syllable loud and clear.

  “So Katy,” she said slowly, taking another deep drag, “what you’re saying is that you’ve fallen in love with not one man, but two.”

  And I nodded hopelessly, tears coursing down my cheeks.

  “Ye-yes,” I stammered. “I don’t know how things got so complicated but it’s just so fucked-up and I’m so confused and things shouldn’t be like this and …” My voice trailed off painfully, my chest hurt, like my heart was crumpling and folding in on itself, a hole it its place.

  Tina was silent for a moment, looking at me contemplatively.

  “Well, at least you love each other,” she said wryly. “Having two men in love with you is better than none.”

  There was some truth to that. Trust my mom to be dryly efficient, stripping things down to their bare bones.

  “I know, I know, I’m grateful, but love shouldn’t be this hard, right? It should be easy, everything should come easy and this … this is the opposite,” I cried.

  But Tina shook her head at that.

  “Who said love is easy?” she hacked, voice raspy from the cigarettes.

  I paused for a moment.

  “Well, I mean … I mean, I guess I thought it would be,” I blubbered. “I mean, I thought love was like soaring through the skies, things would just fall into place.”

  And my mom positively snorted then, which became another serie
s of painful coughs.

  “Katy, honey, sometimes I don’t think you’re my daughter, we’re so different,” she rasped, bent over double. “Where the fuck are you getting these ideas? Didn’t I raise you in a trailer park? Nothing comes easy for women like us.”

  And I colored then. I prided myself on my street smarts, but had I lost my bearings this time?

  And my mom confirmed it, nodding vehemently.

  “What you’re describing is the process of falling in love,” she said tiredly. “But real love, the real thing isn’t like that. Real love is something worth fighting for, worth struggling for, and you’re acting like it should come to you served on a silver platter.”

  I bit my tongue for a moment.

  “I guess,” I said dully. “I just didn’t think the struggle would be this hard.”

  My mom looked at me and sighed then.

  “Any struggle is hard,” she said dryly. “Why do you think it’s called struggle? Why is work called work? Because this shit is hard and you can’t expect things to turn out perfect, easy-peasy, with no blood, sweat and tears.”

  I was quiet again.

  “But why does it feel that I have no options? Like I’m stuck in a corner?” I asked, my voice breaking.

  And my mom snorted again, but her voice was gentle this time.

  “Katy, you’re young,” she rasped. “You’re only eighteen, how can you say you have no options? I’m the one with no options, no one wants someone like me with loads of baggage and a history of … well, never mind,” she said.

  “What I mean is that the world is your oyster and all you have to do is reach out your hand and take it. There are two men who love you and you love them too. So what do you mean by no options? You’ve got so many options, it’s crazy, you shouldn’t be here mopey and sad. Go on, go live your life,” she commanded.

  But I shook my head miserably again.

  “That’s the problem exactly,” I wailed. “There are two men. What am I gonna do with two men? What are people going to say when they find out about us?”