But hell no, these kids were too wet and wild for one another, Katy’s boobies bouncing up and down as Jason stuck it up her backside from behind. And fuck, but it looked good I had to admit, my dick coming to life, hardening, stiffening in my jeans. I couldn’t see everything from where I stood, but I could see that pink snatch dripping wetly, the tell-tale spatters of cum all over the coverlet, and I’d heard her screams, her moans of desire, watched as the curvy female shattered all over the dick in her anus.
And when Katy asked me to join them, she’d read me right. I wasn’t angry or upset that they’d discovered each other, but that didn’t mean I wanted in on the action … yet.
So I grinned at them.
“Naw, I’m good for now,” I drawled. “But once you’re done, why don’t you get dressed and come outside, and we’ll talk about it? I’ll be waiting right out here with an ice cold beer,” I chuckled before shutting the door softly and stepping into the living room. Fuck, it suddenly seemed hot in the trailer and I wrenched open some windows despite the fact that there was a cold snap outside.
I could hear clothes rustling behind the closed door, some scrambling sounds, but not before Katy let out a couple more “oh’s!” and a couple more breathy “ah’s!” Hey, if I’d been in there with her, I would have done the same, tasted that sweet pussy once more, maybe pinched her clit one last time, sucked a nipple as a goodbye even though there were people waiting.
Finally though, the two came out. My best girl was shamefaced for sure, looking down at the floor, cheeks red, stumbling a bit as she walked into the common area. But Jason? That freak was all about the conquest. He sauntered out like nothing was wrong, strides long, sure and confident.
“What’s up?” he drawled lazily like a big lion, striding over to the fridge and peering inside. “Fuck, there’s nothing to eat.”
I rolled my eyes. Trust a teen boy to complain about lack of food at a moment like this. I mean, I’d just caught him fucking his almost-stepsister, didn’t he have anything to worry about other than his stomach?
But it was the perfect opening actually. I grabbed my jacket and stood up.
“Why don’t we grab a bite at the diner?” I rumbled smoothly. “It’s never great to think on an empty stomach, can’t get anything done.”
Katy looked shocked.
“But didn’t you want to talk?” she asked uncertainly, biting her lip. “Aren’t you angry … or, I dunno, confused at least?”
And I smiled lazily at her then.
“Sure I wanna talk, but there’s no sense in chatting when your stomach acid is churning from lack of food,” I said smoothly. “And this guy here, he’s been going at it hard, he’s got to get some fuel in himself.”
Jason shot me a dirty look.
“Fuck you,” he spat. “Fuck you.”
The epithet rolled off my back and I smiled beatifically.
“Like I said, no food makes for an asshole,” I drawled again.
Now Jason looked positively ready to jump me, but I was too fast, my feet were already out the door and into the truck.
“Meet you in fifteen,” I called, revving the motor before rumbling off. “Moonlight Diner over by Third and Park.”
And as I glanced in the rearview mirror, sure enough Jason was getting into the car. I knew the call of food was too strong for a guy who’d been having sex, he needed calories stat. And Katy too, was getting into gear. She still looked stricken and unsure of herself, but with trembly steps, she too hoisted herself into the truck cab, plopping uncertainly in her seat.
And I just chuckled to myself. I’ve been an alpha male for decades and seen a lot of people, been in a lot of weird scenarios. Sure, this was a stranger one, but you know what? I was looking forward to our chat. Because Brent Larson isn’t someone who loses … he only wins.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Katy
The Moonlight Diner is a greasy spoon over on the edge of town known for its generous portions and late-night crowd. So at five in the afternoon, the place was deserted, one bored waitress standing by the counter reading the paper, smacking her gum.
She barely looked up when I walked in, but when she saw the two huge alpha males behind me, her demeanor switched from night to day, the middle-aged woman was all smiles, swaying hips and suggestive glances.
“How many?” she purred, her hand stroking the plastic menus sensuously. Gross, those menus were greasy and dirty, and yet she was making like it was a sexy rub.
“Three,” returned Brent smoothly, an eyebrow arched with humor. He was used to getting special treatment, women melting into tiny puddles in his vicinity, swooning with lust.