The Dirty Virgin

By: Cassandra Dee

~A May December Stepdaddy Forbidden Romance~


Me, a virgin? That’s right but the dirty kind.

My mom was the cleaning lady for Drake Markham and we moved into his mansion after they got married. He wasn’t around much when I was growing up, always traveling, head of an international conglomerate. But I saw enough to arouse my senses.

Because Drake was toned.



And utterly gorgeous.

But now I’m fucked because the big man’s finally noticed me.

He likes my curves.

He likes the way I walk.

And most of all, he likes the fact that I’m eighteen and a virgin.

Sure, he’s my stepdaddy, but there’s one thing that’s DEFINITELY going to happen!


To all the ladies out there who were once dirty virgins …

Aren’t the memories delicious?



Drake Markham has been watching me. I feel it more and more lately, ever since I turned eighteen. It looks like he’s eating breakfast or reading the newspaper but actually his eyes are trailing my body, taking in my every move.

I think it has something to do with my newly developed figure. Just six months ago, I was as skinny as a beanpole and looked like a boy. I had no boobs, no butt, no hips, straight as a ruler, yes sir. Add to that a terrible haircut and braces, and I was pretty much an ugly Pippi Longstocking complete with flaming red hair.

But I’ve changed these last few months.

“Mom,” I whispered, cheeks hot. “I need a bra. I can’t keep going around without one.”

It was so embarrassing to be talking about this at the breakfast table, but it was the only time I saw Lorena now. My mom was constantly disappearing, usually with our pool boy Carlos, and I could never catch her alone. My face colored, the heat rising all the way to my hairline, and I could barely move I was so humiliated.

But I’d seen Drake look. Despite the fact that I hadn’t glanced his way, I’d sensed his awareness of my words, of me. His eyes had flicked in my direction instinctively and then away, shielded by the rustle of his newspaper.

But Lorena knew no discretion.

“Oh honey, of course I’ll take you,” she singsonged, not bothering to lower her voice. “My little girl is growing up,” she trilled. “How delightful!”

And it was true, I did need a bra now. My girls were Double D’s, they’d puffed up overnight from invisible A’s and I could no longer go around without some support, my jugs were now so juicy and pendulous that they strained against my baby tee, the nips poking out like pebbles.

“Can you go this weekend?” I asked tightly, my voice strained. There was no point in whispering anymore, Drake could hear everything.

“Oh honey, this weekend is so soon,” Lorena replied, waving her hand at me, blowing at her nail polish. “How about a month from now? I have so much going on,” she offered as an excuse, although not saying exactly what. Probably lying by the pool watching Carlos, or him watching her, whichever way it went.

But our conversation got my stepdad’s attention. He snorted before growling, “Lorena, I think you should take her this weekend.”

I looked at him with grateful eyes, gazing into those dark blue irises. When had Daddy become so handsome, so arresting? My skin sizzled as he looked back at me, the intensity in the air electrifying, almost buzzing with our shared heat.

But Mom was immune to it all, sensing nothing.

“Oh alright,” pouted Lorena. “I’ll take her this weekend. Fine, since you guys are ganging up against me.”

And it was then that my stepdad got up, scooting back his chair and standing, his massive frame dominating the tiny breakfast nook.

“I’ve got to get to work now,” he rumbled, elegant in his thousand dollar suit. “Lorena, Cleo,” he nodded before striding out, his gait smooth, the long steps swallowing the distance in seconds.

And I sighed. Drake Markham … successful businessman, pillar of the community, handsome, charismatic, a man about town before he met my mom. How did Lorena snag him, when women everywhere were drooling, throwing themselves in his path?

But it’s not that hard to understand because my mom is really pretty with a bubbling, engaging personality. She used to be one of his cleaning ladies, someone the agency sent to sweep and vacuum every weekend. After six months at the estate, Drake noticed her. Not that I was surprised. My mom is a bombshell, the kind who has curves busting out in every direction, lots of pizzazz and juice.

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