The Trashy Virgin: A Menage Romance Page 4

  “Please Jason,” I begged, my eyes warm and pleading. Oh god, he wanted me? This huge alpha male wanted me, in addition to the one I already had at home? This made no sense, how could I handle two?

  But first things first. I needed to take control of this situation so I took a deep breath, forcing myself to grow still, willing my heart to stop pumping a million miles an hour, summoning my inner strength. How did Jason even know that I’d let Brent pop my pussy cherry? Did he come home early? Or god forbid, did Brent tell him?

  Fortunately, no such thing had happened, that was too fucked up. Instead, Jason answered my unspoken question.

  “I heard you,” he grunted, eyes still fiery, his big form filling up the small cab, making me feel tiny and small. “I came home in the early afternoon and heard the two of you going at it in the shower stall. It was a fucking orchestra, you were screaming as he touched you,” he shot at me accusingly. “You let him take you everywhere, you let him run that big dick inside your pussy, your ass, you fucking slut!”

  I took a deep breath, fighting to stay calm.

  “I’m no slut,” I said, my voice tight. “Brent and I went with what felt right, and you know what? It’s not your business anyways.”

  “Not my business?” he roared, eyes wild with rage. “It is my business! What the fuck else could it be? I live with you in the trailer, how the fuck is this going to work, me hearing the two of you go at it day in and day out? Or are you going to stop now? Right Katy, tell me you’re going to stop,” he taunted, his eyes boring into mine.

  And I took a deep breath, summoning my deepest reserves of control. Because Brent and I weren’t going to stop, the train had left the station and was already barreling a hundred miles an hour down the tracks. No matter what steep curves came our way, what mountains we had to climb, there was no way we were going to stop tasting each other, stop loving one another. So I tried again.

  “You came home after school and heard us,” I repeated, keeping my voice calm and even.

  Jason nodded furiously.

  “I got away from Ms. Smith, don’t worry, I can handle my women,” he sneered. “I got home and what did I hear but a symphony playing in the bathroom, so many “Oh Brents!” and “Touch me here, touch me theres!” Please Katy,” he snarled again. “I heard it all, it’s burned into my fucking eardrums, I had to stay in the woods for a while to get the ringing out of my head.”

  I exhaled deeply. So that’s how it had gone down, Jason had returned early and heard us, stumbled in on our love session, and immediately beat feet, stunned with shock. But something was off. Surely he didn’t think that we’d be going at it for five hours, a five hour session would be really long, so why didn’t he come back earlier? Why stay out in the cold, freezing woods for five hours?

  And it was like Jason could read my mind, his blue eyes filled with pain.

  “Because you loved it Katy,” he said then, his voice a hoarse rasp. “You were with Brent and you loved it. I could hear it in your cries, I could hear it in your pants, your everything, and I couldn’t take it because … I wanted to be your first,” he said brokenly.

  The admission blew all resistance out of me, the fight draining from my body. I took a deep breath before exhaling, heart pounding in my throat. Because here we were, back to square one, my “brother’s” stark admission that he wanted me, that he’d lusted after my curves, that knowing I’d been with our guardian had driven him over the edge, made him so desperate, so angry, that he’d only come back once he was sure he wouldn’t pound down the trailer walls.

  And to be honest, it was good that Jason took his time because Brent and I hadn’t finished in the shower, the big man had carried me into his bedroom, sopping wet, and we’d explored a bit more, me sitting on his face, him lapping at my folds until I came again, hard, my creaminess gushing all over his chin, streaming down his cheeks to coat the coverlet. There was no penetration that second time even though I’d begged him to put it in, positively pushed my pussy against his pole, trying to catch his dick tip in me. But Brent had chuckled deeply, slapping me on the ass, giving me a last lick on my snatch and telling me that I’d be “too sore” despite my protests.

  The memory made me cheeks flush once more, body growing hot, soft with need once again. But there was still this problem with Jason, this messed-up situation on our hands. So I shot him a quick look, my gaze gentle.

  “So what’s next?” I asked softly, my voice conciliatory. “What do we do next?”

  Jason let out a masculine harrumph, a deep-throated moan of disgust.

  “Either I move out, or I cut off my dick …” he began.

  “No!” I cried, a small palm flying to his strong forearm, a fluttery touch against his hardness. “No, don’t go, that’s not necessary.”

  We both looked at my hand, how it was so tiny, so white against his thickly muscled forearm.

  “What do you want me to do then?” Jason ground out, eyes burning into mine, body tense. “There’s nothing else I can do,” he said, shaking his head furiously, voice thick, eyes dropping to look down, away, refusing to meet mine.

  And I felt hope well in me then, a great cresting of need, a desire to be together.

  “Well maybe …” I began.

  Jason didn’t look at me, still gazing out the window, his body tense with power and energy, despite his refusal to answer.

  “Maybe,” I swallowed, continuing once more. “You could share?”

  The big man’s head whipped around then.

  “Share?” he rasped, disbelieving? “What do you mean, share?”

  I colored, flushing once more, my nipples growing tight.

  “I mean,” I said hesitantly. “There’s only one of me, and two of you, but I’m okay with you know … sharing.”

  Jason just shook his head at me.

  “What the fuck makes you think that either Brent or I would be okay with sharing?” he ground out. “I don’t share, and I know Brent fucking doesn’t either.”

  I shook my head determinedly this time.

  “It’s my body,” I said softly, taking a deep breath, “and if both of you want in on the goods then you’re gonna have to share,” I said firmly.

  There was no sound from Jason this time.

  “Have you told Brent this?” he asked slowly.

  I took that as a good sign. Jase wouldn’t have asked the question if he wasn’t okay with it himself on some level or another.

  “No,” I admitted, shaking my head. “No, because this is all a surprise,” I said slowly. “I mean, I only lost my virginity yesterday and now … I had no idea that there were two men interested,” I finished.

  Jason snorted then.

  “Really, no idea?” he drawled, eyeing me up and down, letting his gaze trail over my generous breasts, my tiny waist and wide hips. Oh god, I’d felt sassy this morning, my first day as a non-virgin, and had dressed sexier than usual. Instead of my regular jeans and loose t-shirt, today I was wearing a tight baby tee with a denim skirt that was perfectly fine when you were standing. But here, sitting in the cab, the skirt had pulled up so that the fabric just brushed the bottom of my pussy, my generous thighs on display, creamy, white, spread against the leather of the seat. And oh god, if you looked closely, you could even see the fabric of my tiny pink panties, peeping out just a bit. Flushing, I squirmed, trying to pull down the skirt, which just made it worse. If anything, the fabric inched up more, displaying more of the panties and the tiny damp spot right between my legs.

  “Oh god!” I breathed, squirming more before reaching for my book bag and pulling it onto my lap, desperate to cover the evidence of my arousal. “Oh god,” I whispered, cheeks burning as I met Jason’s knowing gaze.

  “Like I said,” he rumbled, eyes hot on my breasts, his shaft stiff and heavy through the denim of his jeans. And were my eyes deceiving me or was there a wet spot at his crotch too? Like his penis was seeping pre-cum, the mere proximity to me so arousing that his body was already p
reparing itself for me, preparing to blast into my warm insides?

  I creamed more, literally pressing my bag down on my lap now, grinding it against my clit slightly.

  But Jason chuckled knowingly, rumbling deep in his throat.

  “I think, baby girl, that we’ll be sharing whether or not Brent agrees,” he drawled dryly. “Because your body wants me, that’s clear, and fuck little girl, but I want you.”

  And with that, he leaned over and kissed me in the truck cab, seizing my lips between his, his mouth commanding, so alpha, taking what he wanted. The heat between us ratcheted up a hundred degrees in two seconds, suddenly I was pressing my breasts against his chest, stroking his strong shoulders, worming myself closer to his masculine heat when he broke away, eyes alive, staring at me hungrily.

  “Soon baby girl, soon,” he rasped before switching on the ignition and revving the motor. The tires squealed as we pulled once more onto the road, barreling at about sixty miles an hour. And I openly gaped at him, breath coming fast, body excited. Because what had just happened? We’d shared a kiss but it’d been so much more than that, it’d been wild, arousing, devastating because it was so short.

  But Jason ignored me, hands sure on the steering wheel, the stick shift, his blue gaze fixed on the road, jaw set.

  And by the time we pulled into the campus parking lot, my heart had calmed a little, but only slightly. I shot the big man a swift look before opening the door, slowly maneuvering myself out of the huge vehicle. And when I stepped onto the pavement, the alpha male was waiting, his big form deceptively relaxed, leaning against the front of the hood with a small smile playing around his lips.

  “Soon baby girl, soon,” he rumbled, and with that the bell rang, signaling first period. But inside, I was a trembling mess. When? Where? How? All I knew was that I wanted Jason … no, I needed him. So the rest of the day was a waste. I couldn’t focus on anything, could barely see or hear, daydreaming, thinking of nothing but my situation.

  But a hissing sound caught me ear during third period, interrupting my reverie.

  “Katy,” whispered my friend June, a bubbly blonde who was more annoying than anything else. But we’d been fast friends for a couple years now, in fact June was kind of my only friend at this ritzy school. So I turned to see what the matter was.

  “Yo, look,” she whispered again.

  And now my buddy was jerking her chin to the left, making odd gestures. Automatically my eyes turned to look and I bit my lip, regretting it immediately. Because Jock McMahon was smiling lasciviously at me, openly sizing up my curves, even licking his lips. Oh no. I should have been excited because Jock was a big man on campus, a star player on the football team and a guy from the right side of the tracks. His dad owned a real estate firm in town that did a lot of construction and development, so yeah, as a girl with a questionable background, I should have been melting with desire, dying to get with him.

  But there was just something about the football player that turned me off. Everything other women cooed about made no impression on me, or worse, made me nauseous. His blonde hair? It was okay, but he doused it with so much gel that the small spikes stuck straight up, stiff and shiny. The muscled physique? It was way overblown for my tastes, like a gorilla on steroids. But it was his smile that was the worst. Although other girls melted and swooned when he shot a grin their way, I found his smile to be more of a sneer, a twist of his mouth that never reached those green eyes, more like he pulled his lips into a crescent rather than a real, heartfelt expression of happiness and joy.

  So yeah, I wasn’t into Jock, not at all, and it was just my bad luck that he’d noticed me, nodding and grinning. And after class, he made his move.

  “Yo Katy,” he grunted, sauntering over to my desk. “How’s it goin’?”

  I blushed despite my best efforts but it wasn’t because of his proximity, the lumbering form next to my desk. It was because everyone was watching, silently observing our encounter.

  “I’m good,” I said quietly, shuffling some papers around before picking up my book bag. “How about you?”

  And Jock smiled that dead smile then.

  “Good, good. Listen, you wanna study together sometimes? I hear you’re a smart girl and I need help with this stuff.”

  I balked. I really didn’t want to, I didn’t want to go to the library with this guy, spend one minute with him when I could be with Jason or Brent. But there were so many pairs of eyes on me, that I had to do what everyone expected, conform to everyone’s expectations.

  “Sure,” I managed in a quietly strangled voice, every fiber in my being rebelling. “Sure Jock, that sounds good,” I tried again with a small smile.

  And the big man puffed up with pride, looking like a rooster that had just cornered a pea hen, ready to do the dirty.

  “Great,” he cawed. “I’ll see you later then,” he said before striding outside, joining a couple of his football buddies, their heads a foot above the crowd, proud, like a bunch of towering nutcrackers.

  I turned to gather my books but not before June came racing up to me.

  “Oh my god, Katy, you just got asked out by Jock McMahon!” she squealed.

  My heart dropped.

  “No that’s not true,” I muttered, head down, hoping no one could hear. “It’s just a study session, not a date.”

  But June scoffed at that one.

  “I don’t think so,” she singsonged. “I think someone just got asked out and girl, you are going to rock it!” she squealed, not caring who heard.

  My heart dropped again. I didn’t want to be in this position, I didn’t want to be seen with Jock, didn’t want to date him, didn’t even want to be within five feet of him. So why didn’t you say no? a voice inside screamed. Because, I shook my head miserably, girls like me don’t get to choose when an acknowledged “hottie” like Jock comes calling. You have to do what people expect.

  And it made me so angry, this feeling that I had to live up to people’s expectations, bow to their whims. But what could I do? I was literally the trashy girl from the trailer park, lucky to get any scraps much less a hunk of goodness like Jock McMahon. And if they knew about what was happening between me, Jason and Brent? Holy shit, every bad thing they already thought about me would be confirmed, I was only living up to their prejudices. So I walked slowly into the hallway, defeated, cheeks burning, heart heavy, with June chattering non-stop beside me, tossing all sorts of nonsense into the air.

  “Oh my god, you have to look pretty,” she breathed. “You’re gonna get your hair and nails done, right? Luscious Spa over at the corner of Main and Second?”

  “Oh my god, where do you think you’re going to study? The Corner Café? The Coffee Source? Or maybe that new place near school with the free wifi and fancy pastries? Oh my god!” she babbled, her words like a bee in my ear.

  And finally I couldn’t take it anymore and whirled on her, voice firm.

  “June-bug, I appreciate your support but none of that is going to happen,” I said determinedly. “First, Jock doesn’t study much, he’s too busy with practice and friends, so it was probably nothing. Second, you know I don’t have money to get my nails done, a manicure is thirty bucks. And last, if it does happen and that’s a big if, we’ll be studying in the library. It’s the only place that makes sense,” I said firmly.

  But June wasn’t put off at all.

  “Whatever Katy, he’ll come calling, I’m sure,” she singsonged as she danced off to her next class. “Look pretty Katy, this is your big chance!”

  And my cheeks colored once again, but this time it was because I was kinda mad. Why did I have to like Jock? Why did I have to conform to expectations, swoon when everyone expected me to? Why was there this godawful feeling that I had to belong? But I knew where it came from. It’s because I’m poor, I’m the poor girl at a rich school, and they reminded me day in and day out of how lucky I was to be here. Not overtly saying anything, god no, but rather small things, like June had just done
with the comment about the manicure. And so I tried to fit in, tried to be the good girl and do what people expected but those expectations were starting to crush me. I needed to get free, fast, to break out of this trance. And Jason and Brent … they were my answers.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Jason

  I went through the motions of the day like a zombie. I don’t see Katy at school much because we’re on completely different tracks. The brunette’s with the normal kids, kids who have a shot at going to college, kids who are smart and have after-school tutors to help them puzzle through their classes, do their homework for them if need be. By contrast, I’m on the “vocational” track, or the path for those kids who aren’t headed to college, no way, we’re gonna be mechanics, steelworkers, A/C repairmen, plumbers, all the good shit.

  Because college is fine and all, but it’s not for me. I’m not into books or classes, I’m into working with my hands, making things, looking back on something I created with a sense of pride and accomplishment. So yeah, I’m grateful to Brent for hooking me up with the union, it’s a perfect fit with where I see my life going. And I know I’m lucky that Brent stopped by my tent that first day to make conversation.

  But I’m a lost boy no more, I’m a man, hard, muscled, on a solid path with the prospect of a steady paycheck, and needs. And god, but those needs were driving me crazy now. The entire day I thought of nothing but Katy at school, how I planned on getting her naked, those big boobies bouncing, those wide hips so sensuous and curvy, parting the thickness until her pink cunt was revealed. And fuck, the things that I was going to do to that pussy … fuck, I had a slight hard-on just thinking about it and it was only sixth period.

  So I forced myself to get back to woodshop, to focus on my cabinets. Most of the other kids were crafting boxes, planters, things for beginners that didn’t take much more than two pieces of wood slapped together. But I love true artistry, so I was building cabinets that we could install in the mobile home complete with raised panel doors, custom handles, and beveled glass to show-off fancy dishware. Shit, we didn’t have the crystal vases and dainty porcelain yet, but I was waiting for the day when we’d have enough to buy it all for Katy, treat my best girl to the finest things in life, give her everything she deserved.