The Billionaire Bull

by Romi Hart

  I laugh to myself and take another deep breath.

  I look over to my left and giggle uncontrollably. Her red panties. Her wet red panties. I bring them to my face and inhale. They smell like her pussy. Oh god, I never want this moment to end.

  As soon as I start thinking sweet silly thoughts, I hear a parade of manly laughter coming through the hallway.

  My fellow teammates are now filling the showers. And they’re staring down at me, laughing their fucking asses off. Because here I am, dirty, naked and holding soaked panties in my one raised hand like they’re the fucking Holy Grail.

  “Way to go!”

  “Hell yea Nate Jiggur!”

  “Touchdown!”

  “National Fuckball League tonight!”

  “Showering in pussy juice!”

  “Why’d you get rid of her, bro? Thought she was gonna take one for the team!”

  Laughter.

  I raise both hands and give them all a double bird.

  “Fuck you, assholes. You’re ruining my romantic moment.”

  After being dissed by my teammates and abandoned like a used condom by Amanda Shannon – though I didn’t mind because my balls were so sore from that cumshot that I needed some healing time – I decided to turn to my one true friend in life. No, not liquor and not pussy, surprisingly enough. The opposite end of the spectrum, Rey Ramirez.

  I decided to meet Rey over lunch here at the Bradbury, a nice place with a private patio, a quiet little place away from all the city hoopla.

  Rey has always been my surrogate big brother, even if there is an age difference. Rey is a rising star baseball player, home run hitter, and I’m a football player. So we very often argue about which is the better sport and insult each other because that’s just how guys bond, you see.

  Of course giving our obsessive competition that we have with each other, I couldn’t actually come out and say what was going on in my mind. Rey really only knew one Nate Jiggur—the womanizer, the panty dropper and the trash talking bastard on camera. I could never really stop being Nate Jiggur when I was talking to him. So I had to broach the subject very carefully, with only minimal bragging.

  “I got laid yesterday,” I say with a glowing smile.

  “Oh yeah?” Rey says, with an approving grin. “Did you pay her cash upfront?”

  “No fucktard, it was a groupie. Right inside the locker room.”

  “Nice,” he says, seeming into it…but a little distracted if I didn’t know better.

  “And the thing is…it was like…powerful you know? Like it wasn’t just sex it was like, something out of this world. Like she really knew what she was doing.”

  “Milf?”

  “Definitely.”

  “Ah gotta love the older women,” Rey says with a tight smile. “They know how to push those buttons, eh?”

  “Oh yeah.”

  “Experienced, like a witch doctor.”

  “Yeah but you know…” I give him a knowingly look but he stares back in confusion. “It was something else…”

  “What?” he says with almost a paranoid wince.

  “Uhhh, well…”

  Dammit, I freeze up. I can’t tell him that I’m starting to really feel something for this girl. He’s going to laugh his ass off at me and accuse me of going soft. A limp dick married man is the last thing we swore we’d ever be.

  “What’s up, bro? Is she playing mind games with you?” he says, almost as if he’s warning me not to go there.

  “No, man. I’m not in love!” I say, laughing a little too loudly. “I’m just saying, really good stuff.”

  “Of course,” he says, losing interest in the conversation. “Sometimes women just need a good cock to remind them of who’s boss, know what I’m saying?”

  It’s not like that this time. I know I should join Rey in some alpha male locker room talk, but I can’t make myself say it. I know I’ll get laughed at if I tell the truth—that I’ve bent the fuck over backwards just to please Amanda. And I NEVER do that with anyone. As soon as I say one word, he’ll figure it out. He’s never going to see me in the same light.

  “It was a joke, Nate,” he says casually. “You know I’m just clowning when I say shit like that. Sort of like you clown on TV saying you like banging all the marrieds? It gets us press. It’s bullshit talk.”

  Maybe that’s code, maybe that means I should tell him the truth.

  “You know…” Rey says, biting his lip in discomfort. “Speaking of marriage…”

  My eyes light up. What the hell is he saying to me? He’s not…nah, he ain’t getting married. He will NEVER get married.

  “What, are you getting married or something?” I laugh.

  “No, no,” he says waving his hand. “No, I just was going to mention that Reagan, your step sister, reached out to me by mail and invited me to another charity event. You know that’s her thing and all.”

  “Sure, yeah. It’s a good gesture.”

  “Well, Nate,” he says awkwardly. “The thing is it’s not my thing. I don’t really like all the charity benefits.”

  “Nobody really likes them, motherfucker! You just do it because it’s the right thing to do. If Reagan invited you, you better go and do it. You know she’ll ride you hard if you don’t.”

  “Well…” he smiles.

  “Not like that! She’s like my sister, man. Don’t even go there. That’s gross.”

  “I wasn’t. Nate, let me ask you something.”

  “Sure, go ahead.”

  “Do you ever get tired of the same old thing? It seems like…I dunno…sometimes the drinking, partying and pussy feels so…high school and college. Like, it all comes to an end, you know?”

  “Hmmmm…” I say with an interested face.

  “I was talking to a girl in a bar last week. Blond kid, younger. Twenties you know.”

  “Mmmmm-hmm.”

  “And she got me thinking about that. You know, love and marriage. Wondering if I could ever love someone. Or if the lifestyle would ever allow me to do that. Sometimes I think I’m doomed to be my father. That marriage will never be ME.”

  “Rey…it’s okay,” I say compassionately. I see what’s happened here.”

  “Oh?”

  “You went and grew a vagina,” I say with wide eyes, strutting my head up and down like I’m dying to get punched. “No, no, you turned into a woman! No, no tell me more about love. Tell me more about your midlife crises. Does your dick still work or just half the time, half the power?”

  “Shut the fuck up,” he says with a stretched smirk. “I knew you wouldn’t understand.”

  “Oh I understand,” I say with a cheerful smile. “Get your married ass out of here. Asshole, wants to settle down, have kids and have tea and eggs with the wife every morning reading the paper. Poor Nate Jiggur, he’s going to be alone in the life! Fucking twice the pussy, the pussy YOU rejected, you old married piece of shit!”

  “Stop talking in the third person. You sound like a dork.”

  “I’m gonna seduce your wife, your daughter, and all your granddaughters when they turn eighteen, you old married ass man.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” Rey says with a scowl. “And you Nate, ought to consider growing the fuck up yourself. At least I play myself in real life, however flawed and pathetic I am. Not an obnoxious cartoon.”

  “Gimme hug, bitch.”

  “Fuck off,” he says, finally smiling. “Good look with that groupie girl. Bet she’s going to love hearing Nate Jiggur talk about other women he’s banged on TV.”

  “Nothing serious, nothing. Just a play that’s all. HEY, you’re coming to that charity, event. Reagan wants you there, and you’re going.”

  “Yeah I’ll think about it. Been thinking a lot lately.”

  I mock him again with a loud tsk tsk. “You’re depressing the fries, fool. Look at how lumpy they are.”

  I know, I know.

  I was JUST thinking of confessing my feelings for Amanda to my best frie
nd…he gives me an opening…and I totally blow it. I know!

  It is crazy. And it does seem like an asshole thing to do. But one has to understand that this competition between Rey and I is bigger than that.

  If push comes to shove I have to be the winner in all our arguments. I have to be the bigger man. I have to slap his head whenever I can because that keeps the dynamic going. If he’s going to fall in love first then let him! I’ll mock his ass through and through and I’ll win! I’m Nate Jiggur, fool!

  Now all that said…yeah. Rey definitely feels it. What I feel. Not that getting laid all the time gets tiring, but more like the saying goodbye parts get cold.

  Amanda’s goodbye reminded me of just how much it sucks to always be chasing one night stands. It’s like…it all disappears the next morning. Memories erased. Likelihood of seeing her again? Zero. I don’t want that to happen to Amanda. I don’t.

  But for now… I WIN. Rey got the bug first, as far as I’m concerned.

  “Seriously bro…I hope you nab yourself a good wife, I do.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” he says sourly. “Just keep an open mind, that’s all I’m saying. BRO.” He mocks me with those condescending dark eyes, just like his jet black hair.

  I laugh it off…but believe me, my surrogate brother, my mind is as opened as it’s ever been. And Amanda is the catalyst. Maybe the catalyst I’ve been waiting for to take me somewhere else…to the next level.

  Amanda

  “It’s really been that long since you’ve talked to Nate? Even though…you know…”

  Jan still can’t believe it that I actually slept with Nate. Definitely jealous…but also seems shocked that such a lonely bitter hag like me has a sex life! Jesus, people really feel that sorry for me? I do sort of have a sex life I guess I just don’t like talking about it to everyone I meet.

  “Yeah. I guess it was just…you know, a crush. I don’t think we have a future.”

  “Well no, I didn’t think you had a future,” Jan laughs. I just figured you’d get a little more mileage out of such a rich, famous and handsome guy. You know…buy you a boat and a new car kind of a relationship?”

  I cringe at the thought. “I’m not going to use him like a sugar daddy. Man…I can’t believe how cynical people are today.”

  “Oh come on,” Jan says, helping me with my latest patient—a damaged guitar once owned by Prince, and now owned by one of his biggest fans. I guess I should feel honored…and yet I feel nothing. I usually enjoy my work. Maybe the “date” I had with Nate bothered me more than I let on.

  “No, really. I don’t believe in using guys for whatever I can get out of them.”

  "Yeah, rich guys get something out of it too. Admit it. Guys like trading sex for favors. It's in their nature."

  “Not mine,” I say proudly. Maybe I don’t have much to be proud of in this life of but at least it’s a start.

  “Amanda?” My dad Blake says. “Someone calling for you.”

  “I’m not here,” I say coldly.

  Dad smiles awkwardly and takes back the phone. “Ummm she just stepped out. Can I take a message?” A pause. “Look, I don’t honestly know if she’s avoiding you. But I can’t really do anything else but take a message, can I?”

  Blake shakes his head and hangs up the phone. He turns to me and shakes his head.

  “What? Dad?” I furl my brow and suffer at the thought that I owe Nate something. I don’t owe him anything!

  "You have to talk to him," Dad says nothing else, at least until after a loooong pause. Always a man of few but decisive words. I listen in subdued admiration…his gray but balding hair and mustache always a symbol of love and fatherly affection.

  “He doesn’t deserve you. But he deserves an explanation.”

  Hard to argue with that, I think, but I don’t reply. All I really feel like doing is working. Creating something beautiful from something horribly disfigured like this guitar right in front of me.

  God…I wonder if Prince intentionally bashed this guitar on a drug binge or something? The body is still rough even after all that sanding. I’m going to have to use the buffer again.

  Heading home. After a long day of work, my feet are sore…my arms are dead. My brain is overwhelmed. I head to my car in the darkest of night, even after dad pleaded with me to come home hours ago. For some reason, I find solace in the night. It's only scary if you have something to lose. But I have nothing to lose. Nothing to gain. Just minutes…hours…days of quiet.

  I suddenly shift my head backward, having heard something. I finish locking the door to the store and stand vigilant. If someone's actually out here late at night, they're definitely not a paying customer. Could be a criminal, a serial killer or…

  Just some fool who doesn’t know just how unsafe it is to be wandering out at night.

  “What do you want?” I ask to the silent presence lurking behind the southern wall.

  “I’m sorry I had to come this way,” Nate says, holding his hands behind his back. He’s dressed in a leather jacket and jeans, trying to look bad ass. But he’s not fooling anybody. “But you’re not returning my phone calls or texts.”

  "Yeah?" I wait for his answer. Even though I'm not afraid of him, I do still find it annoying that he feels entitled to stalk me, and of all places, at night.

  “I just want to talk to you,” he says, looking like a sad little boy. “I know, believe me, I know. Sex is no big thing. But…I just gotta know, did I do something wrong? I mean, I don’t expect much but a text saying, “Hey sexy” wouldn’t be out of the question.”

  I eye him in warning and sigh. “I don’t appreciate you coming around here. I work here. And I don’t like guys approaching me at night when I feel threatened.”

  “I’m sorry. I guess I just…like the nighttime, you know? It’s quiet.”

  "Well, I don't like it. And I just want to be left alone."

  “I got it. But can you answer my question?”

  “What?”

  “What did we feel? I mean, you know it wasn’t just a play. I went after you. I asked you out. I could have had any woman I wanted, but I wanted you.”

  “And didn’t you like it?” I say with a sexy tumble of my hair.

  “Yes,” he says with a smile.

  “Then there you go,” I say straight-faced. “You got what you wanted. Now I want you to leave me alone. I want you to leave my father alone. Don’t contact me anymore. If I hear from you again, I’ll file a restraining order against you. Are we clear?”

  Nate laughs in disbelief. “So if you hate me so much why did you sleep with me?”

  “I didn’t sleep with you.”

  “Why’d we fuck in the locker room then? I mean I’m no gentleman, I’m not a smart guy. Okay? I’m not as classy as you. But is there something I’m not getting? Did I force you, did I insult you?”

  “I gave you what you wanted. Now get the fuck out of my life, Nate.”

  “So you basically bribed me with pussy and then toss me out like yesterday’s shit.”

  “Yes,” I say quickly, emphasizing the point. This conversation is over. If he doesn’t know how to accept THAT, then the man is really a caveman.

  “My dear God,” Nate says, shaking his head. “You are the hardest and coldest woman I’ve ever met!”

  “Yes,” I say, a little bit softer. “I am. Now please leave.”

  “Fine, you won’t hear another word from me. I’m out.”

  “Good.”

  “Not another word, not a fucking syllable.”

  I sigh in annoyance. Kind of amazed that even though Nate agreed never to say another word to me, he’s still rambling on like a teenager. It’s like he doesn’t even understand how he sounds to other people.

  “I’m gone. I’m out. For real.”

  I shake my head and continue walking towards my car, ignoring Nate who keeps turning around, wondering if I’m going to chase after him.

  The truth is…I’m still thinking about that guit
ar. I think I know what needs to be done to smooth out the body. Maybe a fret rocker.

  I hear Nate’s voice chattering just a few yards away. But I ignore it, as irrelevant to my life as the crickets chirping in the background. My life is here.

  Nate

  I made a promise to Amanda two days ago to back the fuck off, and Nate Jiggur may be a lot of things – a lot of bad things – but I am a man of my word. Damn, if the woman hated me that much why fuck me in the first place?

  Now she tries to make it sound like I’m some sexist pig or some brute or something. I don’t have to be told twice. I don’t beg for titties – they’re thrown at me.

  I admit there is something about Amanda that keeps drawing me back. I don’t know what it is but I seem to want more of it. I promised her I would back off and I have to keep that promise. I won’t say another word to her.

  But that sure as fuck doesn’t mean I have to GIVE UP.

  So here I am, at Randy’s, my favorite strip club, waiting for my Very Special Guest. A man who may be able to help me. A man I actually trust as an impartial third party to all the craziness going on—myself included. Hell no, I’ve never denied that I’m batshit crazy!

  I wave at Stephen, flagging him down and inviting him to my table.

  "Nate," Stephen says, already uncomfortable with the surroundings.

  “Hey man,” I say with a grin. “What’s wrong? You allergic to good looking girls? I could have treated you to a night at Hooters if I knew you were Pussy Intolerant.”

  Stephen laughs quietly. “I’ve seen it all before. When I was like eighteen. I used to think this club was the best thing since Disney Land. But you know, you grow out of it eventually. Or at least some of us do.”

  “Cool. So Stephen, you probably know why I brought you here.”

  Stephen nods. “My guess is, Nate, you think I’m going to help you with Amanda. I know you like her. But just so you know, I meant what I said. It’s a no-go. You’re wasting your time.”

  I nod and wave over a waitress. “What are you drinking, pal?”

  “It’s okay…”

  “Do I have to beg? Just have a drink with me, player.”