First Time Menage: A Forbidden Romance (Forbidden Fantasies Book 14)

by S. E. Law

  “Babe…” Mike begins, setting down the bottle.

  “Do you have something to tell us?” I continue. My heart has started beating a little more quickly, but I tell myself to not get my hopes up. Not yet. Maybe she just doesn’t want wine tonight; that’s perfectly okay, and doesn’t necessarily mean anything.

  But then, our beautiful girlfriend smiles shyly. “Scott, Mike,” she says, looking at each of us in turn. “I guess I do have some news to tell you.”

  “You’re pregnant?!” Mike blurts.

  “No, I won the lottery,” Violet deadpans, before throwing up her arms into the air. “Yes, I’m pregnant!”

  Mike tries to make it to her first, but I’m faster, wrapping Violet in my arms and lifting her feet off the ground to spin her in the air. “Oh, my God!” I rasp in her ear. “I’m going to be a dad!”

  “You already are a dad!” Violet laughs, tears of joy streaming down her cheeks.

  “Well, I’m going to be a dad again!”

  “Let me at her,” Mike growl, and I step out of the way so that he can embrace her. After a moment, though, he pulls away from Violet and begins tugging at her clothes.

  “What are you doing?” she yelps, her cheeks pink.

  “You know that you being pregnant turns me on like nothing else,” he rasps hungrily, already devouring the creamy breasts on display. “I need you more than anything, sweetheart, because knowing you’re about to grow big with our baby makes me go so hard.”

  Violet giggles but soon, she’s cooing with pleasure as we pull her to a nearby couch, our dinner forgotten. After all, our lives are unconventional. Ever since meeting Violet at the spa unexpectedly, we’ve faced trials and tribulations; we’ve faced prejudice, judgment, and even hatred in the case of her friend. Still, none of that has been able to touch or tarnish what we have: a beautiful, functional, happy family, with three adults and a gorgeous little girl.

  And now, our family is growing even more.

  “I’m so happy,” Violet moans as Mike probes her bottom hole with a finger. “Mmmmm!”

  Meanwhile, I stand, feeding her so that her cheeks bulge with man meat.

  “We’re ecstatic too,” I intone, sharing another glance with my friend. “Sweetheart, you’ve made us so happy and filled us with bliss, and now, we want to fill you too.”

  With that, our lovemaking continues unabated, replete with passion and adoration because whatever challenges we face, whatever difficulties we encounter, we’re going to face them like we face everything: together.

  The End

  Liked what you read?

  Then get a sneak peek into Violet, Mike, and Scott’s life as they visit the Russian and Turkish Baths five years later. Pick up your copy here (newsletter subscription required) or here (no subscription required).

  More from S.E. Law

  Who falls in love with her friend’s dad and stepdad? Read Marni’s story in Her Honey Pot, available here.

  Even worse, I decided to fall in love with both of my mom’s ex-husbands. It’s filthy, but I still like calling them “Daddy.” About My Daddies is available here.

  I fell hard for my fiancé’s gorgeous father. Taboo? Absolutely. But our chemistry is off the charts in My Fiancé’s Dad, available here.

  The two cherry farmers are plucking Courtney’s cherry this season in Her Juicy Cherry, available here.

  My prom night was a disaster when I caught my boyfriend cheating on me with my best friend. But the older man made it all better in Forbidden Fruit, available here.

  Getting pregnant? A big deal. Getting pregnant by your handsome, hands-on personal physician? An even bigger deal. And don’t forget, he has a business partner who loves being in on the action as well. Playing with Her Doctors is available here.

  After I blackmailed my dad’s best friend, the alpha male swore revenge. But what we didn’t expect was the attraction between us … and now we’re having a baby. Pick up Blackmailing My Dad’s Best Friend here.

  My dad’s boss caught me in a naughty position, and now he says that I have to let him enjoy my curves. Sound delightful? Then you’ll love Blackmailed By My Dad’s Boss, available here.

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  Sneak Peek: First Time Escort

  Lucy

  Lucy’s working as a high-end escort, and her first client turns out to be her dad’s best friend, Shane.

  I apprehensively enter the lobby of the Hotel Indigo, a glamorous high-end hotel on the Lower East Side of the city. The building was easy enough to find because it towers over neighboring skyscrapers. Before walking through the front doors, I surreptitiously crept along the side of the building just to scope the place out. I felt like a stalker, but then straightened my shoulders. I can’t put this off forever, and it’s time to make an entrance.

  The golden doors sweep open as I approach and I smile as brightly as possible. I tell the doorman I am supposed to be meeting a friend at the first-floor bar, and he points me in the right direction. But “a friend”? Who am I kidding? I feel like everyone knows what I’m really here for, but try to walk with dignity nonetheless, with my head held high and shoulders back. Unfortunately, it’s easier said than done because I’m decked out in Rose’s sky-high red stilettos and they’re hella wobbly. Plus, I’m wearing her tiny, deep maroon cocktail dress that hugs all of my curves with a velvet black shawl draped around my shoulders. Rose did my hair so that it falls in soft curls down my back. She also helped do my makeup too, applying dark shadow to my eyes and a sleek, dark red balm to my lips.

  I feel slightly uncomfortable being dressed up so extravagantly. I’m by no means a tomboy, but I am certainly not this girly of a girl. Although I do have to say, I was astonished when I checked myself in the mirror before leaving the dorm. I look stunning, and surprisingly elegant, all things considered.

  I step into the bar and pause, taking a moment to scan the room. The lights are low and there are candles on the tabletops. A fire burns on the far side of the room and swanky suede couches encircle the all-brick fireplace. It is even fancier than I had assumed it would be. But what’s odd is that the bar is pretty empty. That’s weird; it is a Friday night after all.

  I’m looking for a man that fits Reed’s description: a tall, dark, handsome type wearing a navy blue suit. He refused to give the agency a picture of himself for privacy reasons, and paid three times the usual amount in order to do the deal anonymously. Who is this guy? A flutter in my stomach makes me feel a bit queasy. Should I be concerned?

  Then, my mind begins frantically racing. I wonder if Reed is his first name or his last, or if it is really his name at all. After all, if he refused to provide his picture, he’s probably using a fake name too. Plus, Rose mentioned this is his first booking with her. But that doesn’t mean it’s his first booking ever. Does this guy get hookers all the time? Am I just the flavor of the week?

  I try to forcibly stop myself from overthinking because none of the answers to these questions matter. But then again, if he’s an axe murderer, I’m going to have to plan my escape.

  I look around the room, scoping the exits. Good, it looks like there are two nearby, and both are well-lit with green emergency signs. Then I scan the room again, but I don’t see anyone who matches Reed’s description. I check the time: 6:40. We’re supposed to be meeting at 6:45, so surely he will be arriving any minute now. Although I have to admit, a tiny part of me hopes he doesn’t show. I am incredibly anxious.

  I decide to make my way over to the bar where I’m supposed to wait for him. God, this is nerve-wracking. I perch on the end seat, decorously pulling my skirt down when the bartender approaches and asks for my order. My stomach flops as I scramble to think of a drink.

  “A mimosa, please,” I finally say.


  What a silly drink to order. A mimosa is a breakfast drink, but it is all I could think of. Fortunately, the bartender is professional and doesn’t bat an eye. He promptly makes my cocktail and serves it to me with a small orange slice split over the rim of the glass. I thank him, taking the orange from the rim and squeezing it into my glass. I take a deep breath followed by a small but necessary sip to help calm my nerves.

  Sitting back, my mind begins to wander again. I try imagining what type of guy this Reed character is anyways. I mean, who just casually up and gets drinks with an escort? And why? Is he unfathomably lonely? Is he too socially uncomfortable to pick up women on his own? Or does he just like to flash his money, thinking he can have whatever he wants because he’s rich?

  This whole thing reminds me of an old spaghetti western I watched one weekend with Rose our freshman year. We used to have big nights-in where we would order ridiculous amounts of take-out and junk food. Then, we’d cover the floor with blankets and pillows and arrange our snack assortment in a semi-circle around us on the dormitory floor. We would stream the cheesiest movies we could find and spend the night cracking up and re-enacting them.

  One time, we got a corny black-and-white western with crackling stripes on the screen, it was so old. There was a lady of the night who was working at a local tavern, which was impressive in and of itself. At a time where woman barely had the right to exist without a man by their side, she was duping macho cowboys left and right in the old saloon. She would throw the double doors open and swagger right on up to a barstool. Before she could even sit down, men were fighting over who got to buy her first drink that night. We thought she was just fabulous and she was the real heroine of the movie. But what we never considered was what happened after the cowboys bought her that drink. Did they go upstairs for some good times in a private room? Did they make for the stables, for a literal roll in the hay?

  I suppose I’m about to find out in a way.

  Suddenly, I feel a looming presence by my side. Oh no. My client’s here. I paste a fake smile on my face and force my cheeks to turn up almost painfully. I spin around, but then all the air rushes out of my lungs.

  Oh shit. The man beside me is devastatingly handsome with dark blue eyes, black hair, broad shoulders and a wide chest. Even worse, there’s an amused look on that sensual, mobile mouth.

  “Hello Lucy,” he drawls. “What a coincidence, seeing you here.”

  Oh shit! It’s my dad’s best friend!

  To be continued …

  First Time Escort is now LIVE! Pick up your copy here.

  Sneak Peek: While He Watches

  Whitney

  Whitney becomes a cam girl in order to keep her bakery afloat.

  I stare at myself in my tiny bathroom mirror. I’ve always received compliments on my big brown eyes so I’ve spent quite a bit of time accentuating them with make-up. I watched half a dozen YouTube tutorials on how to do sexy eye make-up before deciding on this look. I’ve contoured my cheeks and lined my lips to give myself a vampy, pouty look. My freshly washed locks are fluffy corkscrews framing my face.

  “Am I really going to do this?” I ask Apollo. My cat is currently my only source of conversation. I feel like he’s judging me as he leaps from his perch on the side of the tub and exits the room.

  “Hey, don’t be like that. This was your idea, remember? And if you want your cat food, then you better get on board!” I call after my cat.

  Apollo merely meows disdainfully and walks on. How sad. Well, hopefully someone will show up for my cam show so I have someone to talk to that doesn’t walk on four legs.

  I dress like I’m going out for a casual date. I put on my favorite, most flattering jeans and a top with lots of cleavage. I’ve arranged my bed into a colorful display of pillow and throws, pulling cushions from my couch to make it look inviting. The deep jewel tones of the stacks of pillows remind me of a desert oasis filled with harem girls and belly dancers. I like the vibe and find it sexy.

  I set up my laptop so that only me and the bed are in the frame. I don’t want anyone to see particulars, like my diploma on the wall or the photo of me and my grandma in Paris. That would be creepy.

  Then again, there are so many more logistics involved in this than I anticipated. The site I’m using is called LiveFans and my screen name is CurvyGal. I don’t think I could handle it if guys logged in expecting some lithe, petite girl and upon seeing me, logged right back out. I want to be as upfront as I can without giving away too much.

  My heart races and my palms are sweaty as I click the ‘go live’ button. Oh my god, am I really ready? A million thoughts run through my head. What if no one shows up? What should I be doing while I wait for customers to log in? What am I going to say? It’s nine o’clock at night, should I have started earlier? Or maybe later? Should I have music in the background? Did Willow have music?

  I decide to put some sexy music on in the background and grab my phone to search for something appropriate when suddenly, my laptop alerts me that I have a viewer. I am panic stricken but recover quickly enough to greet PeterC.

  “Hi, Peter. Thanks for joining my show. My name is Whitney,” I say in what I hope is a sexy voice.

  Oh damn! It just dawned on me that I shouldn’t have used my real name. Shit, what was I thinking?

  “Hi, Whitney. Great smile,” Peter types.

  “Aw, thanks, Pete. Is it ok to call you Pete?”

  “You can call me anything you like,” appears in his chat box. It’s a little weird for me to talk while he types, but I guess this is just how cam shows work.

  Besides, it’s my first customer and the situation hasn’t blown up yet. This guy seems nice. Maybe he’s some nerdy guy who’s awkward with women in real life. Maybe it’s my job to make him feel less awkward. That thought gives me more confidence. I decide to share with him that this is my first show in case he feels nervous too.

  “Well, Pete, I have to tell you, this is my first cam show actually. I’m stuck at home like most of the country and decided to give it a try.”

  PeterC sends me $5.

  “Thank you for the tip, Pete!”

  “You’re welcome,” he types. “What do you do when you’re not stuck at home due to a crazy virus?” he continues.

  I debate how to answer that. I decide to go with a broad generalization of the truth.

  “I work in the food service industry.”

  “Interesting. I’m afraid I have to take a call, Whitney. But it was really nice to meet you.”

  PeterC logs off. Oh my god, did I screw up? Why did he log off so quickly? But then, I see that PeterC just tipped me fifty dollars.

  I hate to say it, but fifty dollars is a lot, and my mouth drops open as I look at the number on the screen. I can eat! I can send money to my parents! All was not for naught!

  I end the cam show before anyone else can join and try to calm down for a moment. I’m pleased with the money I made briefly chatting with one guy. Pleased is putting it lightly. I’m ecstatic, and that went better than in my wildest imaginations.

  I decide to make this my regular time to post. Some tips I’ve been reading around the web said that to attract repeat viewers, you should maintain a regular schedule. LiveFans has given me a webpage and I post my tentative show times there.

  It’s interesting not knowing who you’re talking to. It really sparks the imagination. Am I conversing with someone who’s feeling lonely because his girlfriend just broke up with him? Am I talking to someone who’s been married for thirty years and feels a little restless, but doesn’t want to leave his wife? Or maybe I’m talking to a woman who’s exploring her sexuality. I snort. Most likely, I’m engaging with a teen boy who’s giggling in his room even now.

  Then again, maybe PeterC is a real, adult male. Maybe some of the guys who visit these cam shows do so because they are afraid to approach women in person for fear of rejection. Maybe it’s just because I can relate to feeling awkward in situations with the opposite sex som
etimes. It gives me a boost to think I might be giving a shy person some confidence.

  I go to bed with a new sense of purpose and contentment, positive that PeterC was bullied in high school and now has crushing social anxiety. Well, he’s not the only one. I know exactly how that goes, and fall asleep feeling like I have a new mission in life.

  It’s 8:50 p.m. the next day and I feel a little more comfortable about doing this live show than I did yesterday. I know where to put my computer for the perfect angle, and I spent the day making a sexy playlist to keep on in the background. My main fear is that no one will show up. PeterC gave me $55 yesterday, so I doubt he’ll be back today with that kind of money. Unless maybe he’s a tech nerd that created some silly gaming app that everyone loves. Then, anything is possible.

  I struggle a little with what to wear today. I’ve realized that most of my clothes are only fit to wear under an apron at the bakery because they’re so raggedy and baggy at once. So I pull out the big guns.

  I decide on a pair of shiny black pants that I bought for a night out with girlfriends that never happened. It’s hard staying out past nine o’clock when you have to be at the bakery by four a.m. I have a pair of super cute black stilettos that I don’t wear because they hurt my feet after standing in them for thirty minutes but hey, I bet they’ll be just fine to wear sitting on my bed. I put on a flowing purple top with an empire waist and pretty silver buttons. It’s a little bit sheer but I’ve got a purple bra that matches perfectly.

  I light candles to complete my sexy mood and then go live. To my surprise and amazement, PeterC is already logged in and waiting.