But that was the crazy part about this. I had women coming out of my ears, women begging for my information, begging to spend time with me, to feel my body up against theirs, petting their sweet holes. And yet, here I was, waiting in a truck cab, alone on a Tuesday night, as Katy watched a movie with another man. No, it was worse than that. I sat like a loser in the car as my comrade-in-arms, Jason, literally stalked her on her date with another man, both of us wound up and anxious like nervous boyfriends biting our nails.
"Fuck," I muttered under my breath. What the fuck was wrong with me? I was a king of men, a champion, and yet here I was like a desperate dog, relegated to the backseat as Katy went out and enjoyed herself.
I shook my head again, weary, pinching the bridge of my nose. But what the fuck. What I was doing was right, I could feel it in my gut. I'd seen the slight shadow of doubt in the brunette's eyes when we talked in the diner, discussed what could be, what might be, what the three of us wanted. And I didn't blame Katy for having doubts because she was young, her life was only just unfolding, and she didn't have any experience under her belt. How can you know what you want without sampling the world first, without dipping your toes into a couple different pools?
After all, I'd had an opportunity to live my life already. I was a forty-five year-old dude who'd been with dozens of women, heck, probably over a hundred in the last thirty years, and fuck, but Katy was the best of them, sweet, sassy, so beautiful, and sharp as a tack too.
But she didn't know that, nor did she know that the world can be harsher than it seems. Katy was just a naïve eighteen year-old, and as far as I knew, had never even had a steady boyfriend. Definitely she'd never been physical before Jason and I rolled along, so for her to have doubts, questions about our threesome was natural. Besides, it would only be a matter of time before she saw how ruthless real life is, how often the goods are damaged, how things don't turn out the way you expect.
So I sat back, taking another deep sigh, watchful and alert. The world is a rough place, and Katy was about to get a nasty dose of reality. And sure enough, not five minutes later the little girl came tearing out, eyes wide and rolling with fear.
"Oh god!" she cried, scrabbling in her purse, trying to find her phone.
My cell went off immediately with an urgent 9-1-1. Shit, she was looking bad, tears running down her cheeks, shoulders heaving, and I jumped out of the car, long legs pumping as I rushed to soothe her, kiss away her fears.
But that fucking ape Jock barreled out of the theater then, clutching his groin as he ran, face murderous with rage.
"You fuck!" he screamed at Katy, grabbing her hair, making her shriek with pain, yanking his fists up and down, shaking her head like a rag doll. "You fuck, you punched me in the nuts!"
The caveman in me took over then. With a roar, I was on the fucker immediately, wrestling him to the ground, his pumped up bulk no match for my massive build. Because I work out the natural way, through discipline and a good diet, and no drugs can compete with that. So Jock was a mere mite, nothing more than a tiny ant, soft and weak despite that pumped-up bodybuilder get-up.
"Get the fuck off her," I raged, delivering a kick to the stomach. As I expected, his stomach was soft and fluffy like a marshmallow. The toe of my boot sank in a couple inches into his belly fat before rebounding. "Get the fuck away from her," I commanded.
And by now, Jason had come tearing out of the theater as well, his arms around Katy, soothing her, stroking her hair as she choked back sobs.
"Are you okay?" he whispered into her ear. "Because I'm gonna fuck this motherfucker up."
When she nodded silently, her body still shivering and shaking, Jason launched himself like the Tasmanian devil onto Jock, kicking and punching at the big man's cowering form.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he raged, landing blow after blow onto the football player's body. Jason could also tell that this guy was the Pillsbury Doughboy with the way his gut absorbed the blows like soft cotton, but that didn't stop the hail of rage.
"What the fuck?" Jason roared again, delivering another vicious one to Jock's soft underbelly.
I had to step in then because Jock was curled up in a ball on the floor like a complete weakling, not even trying to fight, and there's no reason to pummel an opponent who's already given up, who looks like a terrified hedgehog with its head down, trying to protect itself from the worst of the punishment.
So I wrestled Jason back, forcing the big man against his will, letting him catch his breath, to let reason take over.
"Come on, this dude's a loser," I spat, glancing down at Jock's cowering frame. Oh my god, was the dude actually crying? A slight whimper emanated from the boy and I shook my head, disgusted again. "Come on, let's go."
And Katy stepped forward at the same time.
"I'm fine, I'm fine," she breathed, eyes wide, even a little terrified at seeing how vicious we could be, how alpha, how merciless. "Let's just go, leave him alone, he's not going to hurt me anymore."
And with that, we clambered back into the truck, silent as we drove. I wasn't sure what was next. Was Katy going to bitch us out for trailing her? Were we going to rail at her for going on a date with another man? But the brunette had other ideas because the fight had gone out of her, the dose of reality had been like a ton of bricks crashing down with a thunderous roar.
And once we got back, Katy turned to us after the front door shut, her fine form curvy and tempting in that tight sweater and short skirt. She smiled tremulously, lips tempting and soft. Fuck, this woman could wear rags and I'd be into it, I'd tear that shit off without a second thought. Or better yet, she could walk around naked all day, that was right up my alley.
Because something was different. Before, the brunette had been filled with doubt, unsure about how things would work between the three of us, toeing the start line but not quite ready to run. But now that internal resistance was gone, completely kaput. She smiled at us, eyes wide, warm, molten pools of chocolate.
"Jason, Brent," she breathed, "I want to be with you."
I wanted to yell, to lash out, to make her pay for going on a date with another man but my breath caught because the teen started shimmying out of her clothes, and my body went from anger to lust in half a second. Oh god, she was so beautiful. Slowly, the brunette pulled the sweater over her head, revealing those soft, huge tits, barely covered by a bra, and reached in back to undo the snap, slowly stroking the silk straps off her shoulders. When her jugs were free, she beckoned to us.
"Come and taste me?" she whispered, holding a breast in each hand, lifting and offering the tips. "Come and taste?"
And Jason and I were like slaves before our mistress, on our knees in a second, me tonguing one breast while he took the other. The girl threw her head back in ecstasy, eyes closed, moaning slightly and I should have been angry, should have been furious with her, but my rage instead transformed into a burning sensation in my groin, a hardness, a need to take.
"Fuck little girl, you're so amazing," I growled, worshipping at her boob. Her soft, white jug was so huge that I couldn't get it all in my mouth and instead settled on sucking her tip, rolling the sweet cherry around in my mouth before nipping lightly, biting that sweetness.
And Jason was a goner as well. He kissed along the crest of her breast before biting hard on the soft underbelly, leaving teeth marks, a crescent of indentations.
"Ouch!" she squealed, eyes flying open, looking with shocked eyes at us, not sure whether to be angry or aroused or both.
Jason just grunted.
"That's for going out with another man," he snarled. "That's what you get."
And I nodded vehemently. Yeah, I wasn't the only one who was mad that our best girl had spent time in the company of a loser. She deserved it and I wanted to wreak some punishment as well, pummel her with my dick, force her to take it.
But I wasn't gonna do it on her breast.
"Take your skirt off," I growled. "Everything but the heels."
And Jason and I pulled away as Katy stared at us with big eyes, those huge tits heaving, little red marks showing on the creamy flesh from our loving. But the tables had been turned and resistance was futile because there were two alphas in the room, two dominating, domineering male animals. So slowly, the teen reached in back and unsnapped her skirt, wriggling it over her hips until it dropped to the floor, wearing nothing now except the tiniest lace panties and high heels.
I was angry as fuck still despite the arousal coursing through my body, making my cock literally shake, and I wanted Katy to do something nasty, force her to be a slut after what we'd been through. So I didn't move from my position, instead gazing at those creamy curves, a wet spot already seeping darkly through her panties.