Their Secret: An MMF Secret Baby Romance

by Cassandra Dee

The little girl inhaled quickly again but knew better than to question our orders. She inched her knees apart until that pink slit was clearly visible and reached one soft hand between her thighs, pulling apart her labia, those fleshy lips opening like a curtain, showing us her achy, stiff clit.

  “Like this?” she whispered. “Is this what you wanted to see?”

  And my pole leaked cum like a faucet now, there was literally a pool of the good stuff on the floor under my dick, seeing that huge, throbbing clit, almost as big as my thumb.

  “That’s it,” I growled, eyes glued to her snatch. “Now beg.”

  And Katy inhaled once slowly, eyes flickering, dropping for a second to take in our ten inch rods, ready to fuck, massive, dominating, before licking those pink lips wetly and pulling her labia apart even more, baring that hot channel.

  “Please,” she breathed, her words like the sweetest song to my ears. “Please, Brent and Jason, come fuck me, please, I love you.”

  And the siren’s call was all we had to hear. Because she was giving herself up, declaring that she was ours, and there was no better feeling in the world. I was a warrior, the victor standing on the mountain looking down, my troops having subdued the opponent. Except in this case, there had been no opponent except for Katy’s doubts, her insecurities, and they had been defeated thoroughly, routed for another day. And so we descended, Jason and I, onto our sweet girl, loving her, kissing her, stroking all over, the female the spoils of our conquest.

  “You’re so gorgeous,” I murmured into the brunette’s ear, stroking one soft breast before tweaking the nipple, making her squeal.

  “Absolutely amazing,” Jason agreed, his big hands caressing that sweet cunt, running wetly through its folds. And to show he was sorry, to make his apologies, he treated Katy to a sensuous delight. Forking his fingers apart, he burrowed his thumb deep into her vaginal hole as his index finger probed her ass.

  “That’s right,” he murmured as she squealed, eyes flying open with shock. “You’re gonna sit yourself down on the finger-fucker, come on, you’ll love it.”

  And with a sigh Katy gave in, her sweet folds slipping down on his thumb as her ass popped open, his digits sliding into both holes.

  “Oh!” she squeaked. “Oh oh oh!”

  Jason started running his hand in and out of both channels then, licking at her nipples as he hand-fucked both her pussy and ass.

  “That’s right,” he rasped against her breast. “That’s what my dirty baby does, she lets us fuck her however we want.”

  Because by now, I’d slipped a hand down below as well, worming one of my fingers into her pussy hole, joining Jason’s thumb, pushing and pulling into that tight space, feeling her swollen flesh cream around us, so wet, so needy.

  “Your kitty’s hungry,” I growled. “Two weeks without us and your kitty’s practically overflowing with cream, little whore.”

  And Katy’s head dropped like a flower too heavy for its stalk, rocking back and forth as her ass and pussy were penetrated. But I had more to give and I wasn’t missing my chance.

  “Sweet girl,” I murmured again, my other hand tracing that huge butt. “Open up.”

  And I wormed a finger into her anus, joining Jason in that musty cavern with another probing digit, although this time, it was tough going. Katy was so tight, so impenetrable in back that I popped my finger in my mouth for a moment to lube it up, get it wet before trying again.

  “Relax your ass,” I growled against her ear. “Let go, little butt slut.”

  And slowly, she complied. Her pussy muscles loosened a bit, letting our fingers penetrate deeply and then my thumb niggled its way into her ass alongside Jason’s thick, blunt digit.

  “That’s right,” he murmured. “You’re totally fucked now, you’re finger fucked by two men in your butt and cunt, you like that don’t you, you like it,” he chanted.

  And the girl came hard then, creaming like a geyser as we worked ourselves in and out, stroking her interior.

  “Fuuuuuck!” she screamed, so loud that I was sure all our neighbors could hear. “Oh god! Jason! Brent!”

  Hearing our name on her lips, feeling her cunt and ass squeeze down hard on our hands, pouring wet cream like it was Niagara Falls, hurtled us over the edge as well. In a flash, we yanked our fingers from her holes and were ready with our dicks at her openings, me buried deep in her ass, and Jason in her vag, our cocks hammering home with desire.

  “I. Fucking. Love. You,” I huffed as my hips pistoned, claiming her tiny anus.

  And Jason was just as desperate, just as eager to mark her as ours.

  “You. Belong. To. Us,” he grunted, drilling her pussy with no mercy. And our curvy, bountiful girl moaned, welcoming us into her depths, receiving us with pleasure, squeezing, clenching, making us groan with delight.

  “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 becaus
e 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

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  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, but 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?”