The Trashy Virgin: A Menage Romance

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.”