Filthy Coach: An Older Man Younger Woman Romance

by Amy Brent

  My boots kick a foot of fake snow that swarms my ankles, and I take a deep whiff of pine needle, cinnamon and vanilla. Every inch of the condo is decorated with garland and Santa hats and even little mistletoes that hang from lowered ceilings. But the most amazing part is not the wrapping paper crudely taped onto walls or the twinkling Christmas tree nestled in the corner, but the Parisian music that plays from a room around a corner and the plate of French pastries that sit on a small iron table with fake cigarettes.

  “I forgot to add this.” Jake says as he enters through the hallway. He wears a thin shirt and regular pants, far more normal and humble that anything I’ve ever seen on either of them, and offers me a small smile as he fits a string of roses around the top of my head.

  “What the hell is all this?” I ask. He laughs, and naturally I just want to tear his shirt and feel the muscles beneath.

  “When we screw up we do everything to make up for it. And we fucked up big time.” He admits and pops half a scone in his mouth. A smudge of chocolate slides onto his lip and he uses my finger to wipe it and swirls his tongue around the tip. I gasp and try brushing his lips but he pulls away as Emmet joins us.

  “We’re sorry, Remy. We didn’t realize how unfair it was to make you choose.” He says in a gray turtleneck and slacks.

  “So you buy a condo and decorate it?” It’s ridiculous sounding in both my head and on my lips.

  “Actually,” Emmet leaves and returns with a letter. I open it to not only find the deed to the place, but my name as well. “It’s a part of your promotion package. Your current apartment was way too far from the restaurant and as the newest floor manager we wanted to make sure you were readily available.”

  I look at the condo with fresh eyes.

  “You bought me a condo?” I whisper. My heart beats so loud and quickly that I wonder if they can hear it themselves. “You’re fucking crazy. Both of you, I’m not taking this!”

  “Remy.” Jake calms me down and presses his hands on my shoulders. His breath brushes against my cheek and I’m overwhelmed by his scent of firewood and mint. “David is leaving to manage our second location, and you’re the best worker we have. Just say yes, and after the new year you’ll officially be Kennedy’s Downtown Manager, with the pay to match.”

  Climbing the ranks at Kennedys has been a goal of mine, and I know that place inside and out. Already my mind is full of ideas and thoughts and so I accept, but with reservations.

  “I like my apartment, and I’m still in a lease.” I say. “And I’m not okay with being spoiled or getting special treatment from the both of you.”

  “This condo is a perk of being the manager. David opted for a cash bonus when we first hired him, so we never had to deal with buying one. But when you get promoted again, or maybe even help us open a third location, this will become whoever replaces you.” Emmet explains. “It’s a challenging job, so we wanted the perks to be worth it. And it’ll be waiting for you until your current lease ends.”

  I set the deed next to the scones and face them both. Their scent fills my nose until I’m sure I’m flushed and breathing heavily, and it’s not long before they realize it as well.

  “Remy.” Emmet starts but Jake interrupts him.

  “We’re not asking you to choose one of us.” He says.

  “We never will.” Emmet finishes.

  “We always hated sharing when we were younger, but that’s because we’ve never had anything worth sharing.” Jake’s arm cups my face and brings his close to mine. He closes his eyes, and kisses me long and hard as Emmet’s hands slide from behind my back towards my breast. They roam my plump body, squeezing and tracing lines until they stop just near the inside of my thighs. I’m already wet there, and Jake only worsens it when his tongue dips into my mouth.

  “If you’ll share your love with us, we’ll learn how to share you.” Emmet whispers near my neck.

  “Are you sure?” I breathe. They take turns undressing me until I’m standing in only my panties, and when I point out that they’re still wearing clothes they both grin and rip theirs off.

  “We are absolutely, positively more than sure. Remy, we love you. We’ve learned than we both can’t stop thinking about you. You drive us equally crazy, and together we can make you the happiest you’ve ever been.” Jake gets 3 glasses of whiskey and passes them between us. “To our first Christmas Eve together.” He says and we each take a small sip.

  “And now,” Emmet presses small kisses at the base of my neck as his fingers play with my enlarged nipples. “It’s time to share.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jake lifts me up around his waist. I lean my head against Emmet’s chest behind me and moan as I’m moved from the living room to a barely furnished bedroom with nothing but a simple bed and a nightstand.

  All three of us get comfortable, both men on either side of me. Their hands stroke my dark skin as I take turns kissing them. There’s an even mixture of love and lust and before I realize it, my limbs are entangled in their’s. Emmet’s head is nestled between my bosom and he takes my nipples between his lips and swirls around his tongue, making me squirm and twitch as his hands massage my breasts. Jake doesn’t try to pry me away or push Emmet, instead he lowers himself to my thighs and pulls my panties until they’re bunched at my bent knees. He settles his head between my legs and before I can ready myself licks from the bottom of my sex to the top, pressing extra hard against my clit and making me cry out in pleasure. It’s a brand new sensation to me, and as Jake buries his tongue and licks me inside out my hips buckle in response.

  Instead of jealousy or anger, Emmet becomes more aroused the more I move beneath him. He nibbles softly on my nipple while stroking his own cock, and I reach for it. It’s thick and hard and twitches beneath my touch. His mouth moans around my breast as I pump his rod, increasing in speed as Jake licks me faster.

  I peek down, and at the sight of Emmet’s mouth sucking on my breast and Jake’s head at my thighs I find release a lot sooner than expected. I cry louder than I ever have before, one hand dropping Emmet’s member and grabbing onto his hair as the other pushes Jake’s mouth further against my essence. He softens his licks at I ride my orgasm to completion, twisting and writhing as both brothers hold onto my body.

  It finally ends and I relax, but Jake’s devious eyes sparkle as he climbs over me. Emmet backs up and makes room, panting hard himself.

  “Your pussy tastes amazing.” He says and kisses me. My sour juices drop onto my lips and I swallow them. Jake growls against my mouth, pressing his palm against my drenched clit. It makes me twitch again and rub myself on his hand.

  “I’ve never felt that before.” I admit. Jake twirls my hair and laughs.

  “Get used to it.” He nibbles my ear before scooting over when Emmet presses his lean, muscular body against mine. I grab his member hanging between us and pull it towards my entrance. Emmet moves on top of me, and shoots Jake a raised eyebrow. I ready myself, fearing he’ll think I don’t want him equally or complain about being put second, but he shrugs.

  “Technically you saw her first.” He says, and as I press my hand against Emmet’s cheek I remember how strong his arms were when he protected me from that perverted stranger at the restaurant months ago.

  “I’ve never done this before.” I say before I could convince myself to keep quiet. “Even though I’m on the pill and I’ve read stories, I’ve always wanted to wait.” My insecurities and fears melt as both Emmet and Jake take my hands and kiss the inside of my palm.

  “It’s worth waiting.” Emmet promises me. He’s gentle at first, guiding his member to my entrance and slowly caressing it. His tip slides in with ease, and Emmet’s hand grabs my ass and readies himself. Jake’s mouth finds mine as Emmet pushes inside, and I scream against it. I cry until Emmet’s as far inside me as he can be, and moan when he starts sliding in and out.

  Jake and I kiss as Emmet and I make love. They each fondle a breast and pleasure me until a warmth so s
trong and powerful rips through my body once again and I dissolve in their arms. It’s not what I had imagined at all, and I realize I never could have imagined a love quite like this.

  With Emmet inside and Jake besides me, I feel complete. Like this was the true fairy tale romance I’ve been waiting for. But there’s still one thing left, and it seems Jake agrees. Emmet slides out, barely reacting to the spot of blood on him as he wipes it off, and trades places with Jake, who’s cock might be the same size but feels different somehow. Not better, nor worse, but it’s different in the same way that everything else about Jake and Emmet are different.

  And like everything else in his life, Jake is aggressive. He flips me over, his muscles bulging as they grab my hips and pulls my ass into the air. Emmet sits in front of me, his erection prodding close to my lips and out of curiosity I taste it, recognizing the same sour taste that was on Jake’s lips before.

  My mouth closes around Emmet’s arousal just as Jake slips inside of me. He’s fast and rough, and my head bobs up and down on Emmet’s as Jake fucks me hard from behind.

  The twins share me in different ways until they both reach their release at the same time. Emmet fills my mouth, grabbing the top of my head as he cries and arches his hips. Jake buckles behind me and I feel every twitch that pours his manhood into me.

  We all collapse onto the bed together, exhausted, happy, in love. The twins are mine, and I’m their’s, and there’s enough space in the future for the three of us.

  “Merry Fucking Christmas.” Jake croaks. Emmet and I chuckle before he reaches to the nightstand and pulls out an envelope from the drawer.

  “Speaking of Christmas, here’s your actual present.” Emmet says. I open it to find three airline tickets leaving for France the day after Christmas. I try to be angry, but surprised tears form against my will and it’s hard to keep my voice even.

  “I thought we went over this.”

  “Yeah, yeah. No hand-outs.” Jake rolls his eyes. “Remy, let us spoil you just this once. It’s not every day that we find something that we agree on.”

  “It’s a miracle Jake even agreed to share.” Emmet adds.

  “Paris? With the two of you?” I turn to Jake and remember our conversation nearly two months ago, about my dreams of traveling.

  “And everywhere else.” He mentions, reading my thoughts.

  The tickets drop to the floor as I kiss each of them passionately.

  “Merry Christmas.” I say to the both of them.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “We’re going to be late!” Jake yells from the stall of a bathroom as I fix my hair. Emmet left to grab snacks for the flight, and Jake snuck me into an empty restroom for a quick make out, despite me calling him childish and irresponsible.

  “You’re the one taking a piss. I’m just fixing my smudged eyeliner.” I argue. We meet Emmet at the terminal just as they’re calling for our section. I hold my ticket close to my chest, staring widely at the giant plane on the other side of the gate.

  “There’s nothing to be worried about.” Emmet says when he notices my sweaty palms. “First time on a plane is always the scariest, but it’s never anything more than a few bumps here and there.”

  Jake makes fun of me instead, asking who the child is now.

  We wait in a long line until we find our seats, and I quickly excuse myself to the tiny restroom in the back. My hips touch the closed door and I pour water on my face. When I woke up Halloween morning I was almost convinced my romantic dreams were just that, dreams. But here I am now, with two brothers taking me to the most romantic city in the world.

  I return to them and take the middle seat. Jake puts on headphones and stares out the window while Emmet smiles kindly at an old couple to our right. Shortly afterwards, the plane’s engine roars to life, and we start moving.

  My heart leaps as we take off, grabbing both of their hands and holding them firmly in the center of my lap.

  Christmas with 3 cowboys

  CHAPTER 1

  Christmas had always been a bittersweet time for Shandy Price. Her parents, divorced since her birth, had always managed to turn the holidays into a parade of who was the bigger martyr and which one she should have loved more. It had not been an overly acrimonious divorce, as far as these things went, but Christmas always seemed to bring out the worst in them, rather than the best, and all she’d ever wanted was a merry Christmas. It had only gotten worse and worse the older she got, and by the time she left home she was of the opinion that Christmas was the worst season ever.

  Her father eventually re-married, and slowly and quietly faded into the background of her life. By the time she was ten she’d largely forgotten him altogether, seeing the reprieve from weekend visitations as a boon rather than something to be mourned. Their visits together had gotten steadily more awkward over the years—it was bad enough that she loved American Dolls and the Disney princesses, but when her chest started to swell and she needed a bra her father could scarcely stand to look at her. At first she’d thought it was because she was hideous—her body misbehaving the way it did, all these lumps and bumps—but now, at eighteen, she realized that it was because he was afraid of his own sex drive when he was around her.

  She had never realized that she could be attractive—being one of the few black kids in her mostly-white school made her more an object of fascination rather than true attraction. The few boys she’d dated had only ever wanted to know what she looked like naked—were her nipples really as dark as those they’d seen on porn sites? Was her pussy really pink? She shut down those inquiries as soon as they were made. Boys.

  Now, though, men in the diner were constantly telling her that she was gorgeous—there were so many times she’d gotten an arm around her waist that she almost didn’t notice them anymore. At first she’d thought that this was normal—weren’t all men kinda boorish, and didn’t they all try to hit on her? But then Darlene said something about what a relief it was that she was there to take all their eyes off of her—Darlene told Shandy it was because her skin had a touch of honey in its color, making her seem luminous even in the waitressing uniform (red-and-white striped dress). “You’re prettier than me,” Darlene said, winking. “Them gropers and ass-grabbers are your problem from now on.” Shandy thought it was insane: Darlene was a beautiful woman, statuesque, with long, straight, blue-black hair and a haunted, sad beauty to her eyes. Shandy, on the other hand, was short. She was curvy, her hips and bosom narrowing into a nearly-impossibly slim waist. Her hair was unruly, falling into a mess of loose curls that never could be contained for more than fifteen minutes. And she looked happy all the time—she had wide eyes that made her look as if she were seeing everything for the first time, turned-up lips that gave her an agreeable expression, as if she couldn’t possibly be annoyed that men were always trying to grope her. “Honey, you’re pretty,” said Darlene. “Get over it.”

  Easier said than done: she was finding that this was mantra of adult life. Laundry—who knew that cottons couldn’t be bleached or that polyesters needed to be ironed on low heat? Money—how did people remember to get the eggs and milk and still have money left over to pay their bills? Food—how long could someone survive on peanut-butter sandwiches and ramen noodles? Her mother had never taught her these things before she left home, telling her that all she needed to do was get good grades and do enough extra-curriculars to be accepted into college and everything would be all right. And maybe it might have been the case, but then there was a car accident and all of a sudden she was alone in the world—alone and eighteen, with nothing to her name, nobody to guide her into the complicated world of adulthood. One semester into her freshman year in college, she just couldn’t anymore—so she got behind the wheel of her car and just drove. She didn’t know where she was going, or what she was going to do, and by the time she came to her right mind about the pointlessness of it all it was two weeks later and she’d tapped out all of her savings. There was just enough to pay for one last tank of
gas, which got her to Vernon, Oklahoma. There was a diner there looking for help—the owner, a sturdy, stocky guy named Marvin, looked her up and down, asked her to lift her shirt (she refused) and said, “You’ll do.”

  CHAPTER 2

  Vernon was a place where things passed through, not stuck around. Even the litter that got sprinkled in the parking lot’s diner blew away before it could annoy anybody. The few people that lived here catered to the drivers who passed through: the gas station had more diesel pumps than gasoline pumps, and special hoses to pour as much as diesel into a tank as fast as they could. The stores here sold things that were small, easy to bring along or leave behind. There was no artisanal craftsmanship here—a spoon was just a spoon, it was up to the user to imbue it with meaning.

  The transient nature of everything in Vernon suited her. It was a place that felt much the same as she did—unsure of her future, forced to keep her options open, waiting for something or someone to come along that would give them meaning. In Vernon’s case this came in the form of a bi-annual county fair, which brought in people from the seven surrounding counties to ride the rickety ferris wheels and throw balls at weighted milk bottles. For those two weeks the people were united, more or less, in the sentimentality for small-town life. In her case, eight months after she settled here, she was still trying to figure out what that was.

  “Busy day,” called Jack Tremain, the short-order cook, as she came in through the back door. The stainless-steel kitchen and the linoleum floors gave off the scent of cooking grease. Out front, the diner had been decorated with plastic poinsettias and strings of colored lights that flickered intermittently, but the menu was still the same: eggs available three ways, iceberg lettuce, ketchup or mustard, lemon meringue or banana. It kept things simple.