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Thank god for this thread because I am absolutely not telling any single person that I have to look in the eyes this… And please don’t judge me, because I’m in a fuck-it-all-burn-it-to-the-ground phase of my life thanks to my asshole ex. Which brings me to the fact that I might be sleeping with three men who are way too young for me and, worst of all, I was hired to train into marketable young bachelors. I should be teaching them etiquette, not instead being taught by them that I like some truly filthy, dirty things. (Remember when I said no judgment??) Someone tell me I’m not crazy for wanting three guys in their 20s? Someone tell me I won’t regret this and I deserve some orgasms too? Maybe someone tell me how the hell I’m supposed to satisfy three little shitheads that are appallingly sexy?
Please help. Xoxo, Miss Training Tramp
“Give her all the advice, baby.” Ben laughs while reaching to the back seat to grab Emily’s hand.
“Tell her how to tame those young studs,” Deacon adds, and I wonder what the hell the cab driver is thinking we’re in the business of by the time he pulls outside our new brownstone to drop us off.
“Don’t fuck it up,” I growl at Deacon as he pours the batter on the cast iron pan. It’s our first breakfast in our new home. But it’s so much more than that.
“Damn, Graham. Didn’t you pay attention in management class? Fear is not a sustainable motivator.” Deacon shoots back.
“I’m not looking for longevity, but perfection,” I say as I get back to setting the table. Ben is currently responsible for keeping Emily in bed a little longer and hopefully making sure she’s not too hungover.
I take a step back as Deacon brings the first batch of pancakes and puts it on our long oak table. We’ve learned how to do pancakes, bacon, omelets, and a mean fucking cup of coffee. Long Saturday brunches have become our favorite tradition and having it in our own home together is a better reality than I ever could have imagined for myself. Fuck, I didn’t know life could feel this good. It never felt like this growing up. None of the damn warm fuzzies I get all the fucking time now when I just sit back and watch Emily bantering with my brothers and think, “How the hell did we get so lucky?”.
“Oh, this smells good!” Emily comes charging down the stairs and Ben just shrugs at us behind her. He’s lucky we finished early.
“You guys,” she stops with a huge smile on her face. “Our first Saturday brunch in our own home together. Is this real life?”
“How are you feeling?” I pull her into me for a hug.
“Surprisingly, okay. I think whiskey agrees with me.” She shrugs.
“Well, that’s convenient because we love whiskey and we love you.” I kiss the top of her head, but she leans up to take my lips. She slips her hand under my shirt and along the ridges of my stomach.
“I love you guys. And I would also love to try that little game I mentioned last night.” She pulls me by the fabric of myshirt and sits me down, jumping on my lap and straddling me. “How would the technicalities work out? I mean we have this big spread. You could find something here to put on your cocks while I-”
“Em,” I laugh. “Em, we’ll have time for that.”
She pulls back, looking suspicious. Probably because I’ve never once denied her any of her kinky ideas and hell, I don’t want to right now either. But I’m not about to let our plans be delayed again.
“Foxy, why don’t you serve yourself some breakfast?” Deacon helpfully suggests.
She stands up, looking at us all as if we’ve sprouted extra heads.
Deacon laughs. “Is this how rarely we refuse our Foxy’s luscious demands?” He pulls her in for a sensual kiss and she presses herself into him. “That only one time we say we’ll fuck after breakfast instead of before, you think there’s something wrong?”
He pulls her away from him and turns her toward the table and then smacks her on the ass.
“Well, yes.” She shrugs. “I think I’m the best fucked woman in Manhattan. Maybe the world.” She sits down in her spot and opens up her cloth napkin. “I mean I don’t think I’ve had to touch myself for-” She shakes her cloth napkin and a box falls out, clinking onto the table
“What is this?” She says slowly as her glare shifts to each one of us.
We surround her, getting on one knee.
“No!” She shouts, tears filling her eyes.
“Is that your answer?” Ben teases her.
She opens up the box. Three diamonds shine on a platinum band that’s been custom-made for her.
“Yes!” She shouts. “I mean, my answer is yes! Of course!”
She stands up so her chair flies out behind her and jumps into my arms. I catch her and nestle my nose into her neck, inhaling her and imprinting this memory to keep forever.
Deacon and Ben come up behind her and embrace her. She turns between us, giving us each hugs which turn into intense and tear-filled kisses.
“Forget the game for now,” she says, still through tears. “I want to make good old-fashioned love to my fiancés.”
