Triple Princes – Forbidden Fun Read Online Cassandra Dee

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Forbidden, Romance Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 68691 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)

“You think this is ok?” I asked my friend doubtfully, looking one last time in the mirror.

“Oh yeah,” said Mags without even glancing over while reapplying her fire engine red lipstick. “Live free or die boring,” she sang, and I giggled, grabbing my purse before we headed downtown.

Within moments, we were at the bar, and The Old Dog was exactly as I remembered. The bouncer, some grizzled dude with a bunch of tattoos, took one look at us and snarled, “IDs.”

Damnit, it was going to be one of those nights.

But Maggie had it covered. Without missing a beat, she pulled open the vee to her sweater, flashing the burly man and letting him get a momentary look at her big boobs.

“Hey big guy,” she purred, shimmying a bit so that the orbs jiggled and shook. “It’s so hot tonight. Won’t you be so kind and let us in?”

It didn’t matter that her words didn’t make sense. Mr. Bouncer was transfixed, looking at all that wobbly flesh and wordlessly, he backed off, motioning us inside. As we swept in breathlessly, I whispered, “Mags, oh my god, what were you thinking? You’ve never done anything like that before.”

My friend giggled, adjusting herself so that her cleavage hung just right.

“I know, but it feels so good to let go. We’ve been so repressed, Tina. I swear, our parents put so many expectations on us: how to look, what to wear, even who we marry. I have to let go once in a while to blow off steam, you know? And this might be my last chance before I get shipped off to France,” she pouted.

Ah yes, my friend was headed to the South of France, to the newest type of finishing school – École au Bateau, also known as finishing school on a yacht. Evidently, this new type of institution would sail around the Mediterranean for a year, stopping at major cities so that their girls could participate in various balls where they’d be introduced to eligible men. It sounded dumb if you asked me, but heck for two hundred thousand dollars a pop, I’d put together a school on a yacht as well.

Anyways, my friend had already skipped ahead, and I could see our girls waiting for us, clustered at a small table against the wall.

“Hey Tina,” gestured Aggie, waving for me to come over. “Here, I’ll make some room.” She scooted over and I joined them in the booth, looking around. Oh yeah, we’d all gone all the way. Every single one of us was wearing some hoochie get-up, complete with brassieres that pushed you out to there, high heels, short skirts, and faces full of make-up. At least I’d gone easy on the contouring because some of my friends looked a little witchy, with visible stripes running along their noses and cheeks.

But hey, at eighteen, you can still look alluring even with make-up caked on. What the hell. Maggie raised a glass of beer and shrieked, “Cheers!”

We giggled in return, clinking our glasses before sipping our drinks which consisted of pink cosmos and fizzy glasses of champagne. We were a fun bunch, attractive, sexy, all bouncy female flesh and big smiles.

It didn’t take two minutes before a guy sauntered over to us.

“Heya,” he whined, his voice high-pitched. The boy was nothing to look at. In fact, I was surprised he’d made it past the bouncer since he didn’t look a day over sixteen. Pimply and oily, with a terrible haircut, the only thing that made it worse was that he was dressed like an IT guy in khakis and a blue button-down. Oh god.

I held my breath. Usually, guys like this are attracted to me like a moth to flame, I sometimes wonder if there’s a sign over my head with bright lights and an arrow pointing, “Here! Here!” But this time my luck held out. The pimply guy, trying to seem casual, sat himself down … next to Lucy. I breathed a sigh of relief. I really didn’t want to spend the next fifteen minutes being kind to someone I had absolutely zero interest in.

“Hiya,” he breathed. Even from across the table, I could feel the gust of warm wind, damp, rank, and gross. My nose scrunched up involuntarily before I remembered my manners and smoothed my features out, trying to look impassive, polite.

But Lucy was on another wavelength. Instead of giving the guy the cold shoulder, the pretty blonde turned to face him with a big smile on her face, eyes gleaming, throwing a lock of hair over her shoulder flirtatiously.

“Hi, I’m Lucy,” she chirped, “what’s your name?”

This time I couldn’t control my facial expression and my mouth hung open in disbelief. What in the world was happening? My friend was a looker with a sparkly personality, but why was she giving this guy the time of day? She could do way better because she was a ten.