Football Baby: A Secret Baby Romance

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Football Baby: A Secret Baby Romance Page 43

by Roxeanne Rolling


  The door to the Asian steak house swung open as Colton walked in.

  It was then that I noticed it. I was hit by the smell. The scent.

  Colton smelled just like how I remembered my Father smelling.

  “Are you wearing cologne?” I said.

  “No,” said Colton. “I never wear cologne.”

  “Of course,” I said, laughing. “Not very manly, is it?”

  “Maybe it’s fine for some city folks,” said Colton. “But I never had no use for it.”

  “But you have such a distinct scent,” I said. “It reminds me of someone. Someone I used to know.”

  “I use this old aftershave that my Grandfather used too.”

  “Do you know the name of it?” I knew that my Father had also used some type of old-timey aftershave, but off the top of my head I couldn’t remember the name of it.”

  “Deadly Aftershave,” said Colton. “Come in a big old antique-looking glass bottle. They still make the stuff, but it’s getting harder and harder to find. It stings real good when you put it on. That’s why I like it so much.”

  “Ah!” I said. Yes, Deadly Aftershave. That was exactly what my Dad had used. I could picture the bottle now.

  “Who does it remind you of?” said Colton, sitting down in the booth with me, and taking a sip of my drink.

  “I can’t remember exactly,” I said, lying. It didn’t seem weird to me that the smell might remind of my Father, especially since he had just recently passed away, but I could understand that it might sound weird to someone else. It was just that I remembered scents very well, and had a strong memory for them. Scents always formed strong associates for me.

  We rode in Colton’s old pickup to the dance hall.

  The live band was already playing. We had missed the opening band, which I knew was one of Colton’s favorite, but he did a good job of trying not to seem too disappointed. I knew that if he hadn’t gone back to get his truck, so that I wouldn’t have to ride on the motorcycle anymore, we would have been here in time for the band.

  Colton naturally fit right in with the rest of the crowd. At least, his clothes did. But he was much taller, more muscular, and generally in better shape than just about every other man here. A lot of the men were young, around our age, but they had little beer bellies already developing.

  I hadn’t gotten the Western woman’s costume exactly right, but it was close enough that I didn’t look too out of place. There were a couple little things, like the style of belt, and the style of make-up application that set me just a little bit apart.

  “These girls are all prettier than me,” I said to Colton. And I actually believed it was true. Even with Colton at my side, I felt a little self-conscious. These woman all had taught bodies, big butts, big breasts. They looked impossibly slim in the middle.

  “You’re the prettiest one here,” said Colton, beaming down at me.

  “Look at how thin these girls are,” I said. “But they have huge breasts. Just look at them.”

  Colton glanced around.

  “But not too carefully,” I said, jokingly admonishing him for staring. “No staring at other women!”

  “I wouldn’t dare,” said Colton, starting to laugh. “You know how these girls are all so skinny?”

  “How?” I said. “Riding horse?” I frowned as I said it.

  Colton laughed again. “Corsets,” he said.

  “Corsets?” I said, puzzled. “You mean what they used to wear like hundreds of years ago?”

  “I guess they never really went out of fashion with this crowd,” said Colton. “If you look carefully, you can see the wire marks on their shirts.”

  It was true. I looked around again. This time, I noticed that you could see some subtle markings of corsets. Colton was telling the truth.

  “Wow,” I said. “I would have never imagined.”

  “These girls wouldn’t be half as thin as you if they weren’t wearing those,” said Colton, smiling down at me.

  “I guess not,” I said, starting to smile. I felt a little better.

  “Care to dance?” said Colton, in his most elegant tones, while imitating a strong Southern accent. He stepped back and held his hound out, waiting for me to take it.

  “Why, I’d love to,” I said, trying my hand at my own Southern accent.

  It turned out that Colton was quite the dancer. I actually had a hard time keeping up with him.

  He pulled me in quick loops around the dance floor, dancing in that standard country style that really has its own appeal, in a certain way.

  The music wasn’t what I normally listened to, but after a few songs I really found myself following the beat and enjoying it immensely. Of course, it helped that most of the time, at least during the slower songs, I was pressed up against Colton’s hunky body.

  The songs were regular country songs, usually. There were some classic ballads, but also some newer pop-type songs that I recognized here and there from the radio. I had expected there to be a lot of acoustic guitars, but actually the band was playing almost purely electric instruments, including an almost funky-sounding electric bass that must have had an extra large amplifier, turned all the way up.

  “Hey, it’s Colton!”

  “Wow, it’s Colton, the rodeo rider!”

  “Hey, Colton, honey, could I have your autograph?” said a young and buxom woman with straight blonde hair all the way down to her waist. Surely, she was wearing a corset, I thought, because her figure seemed almost absurdly curvy.

  “Sorry, ladies,” I said, to the group of girls that was crowding around Colton now, impeding our ability to continue dancing. “But he’s already taken.”

  “Ah,” said the girls, who retreated to the corner together, pouting, and giving me dirty looks.

  “Thanks,” whispered Colton into my ear.

  “You sure seem to be a lot more famous now. Remember when I met you at the strip club?”

  “Yeah,” said Colton. “Nobody had any idea who I was. And I was sitting next to a post of my self, with my name and face on it.”

  “Seems like that new manager is really working out well, then,” I said.

  “Yeah,” said Colton. “Cambridge Whitehead. He’s the best. I have a meeting with him tomorrow. A little unorthodox, perhaps, but certainly elegant.”

  “Elegant?” I said.

  “Yeah, you know. He’s always at the finest restaurant. Always wearing expensive suits and watches and that sort of thing. Always handing out hundred dollar tips.”

  “Sounds like quite the guy,” I said. “I wonder what he’ll have you do next.”

  “I’m wondering myself,” said Colton. “But he said this next move is really big. He said this next move in his plan is that one that’s going to really shoot me into the stratosphere.”

  “Is that want you want, baby?” I said, in a slightly teasing voice. “You want to be really famous.”

  “Honestly, not really,” said Colton. “But I have to think about financial security…you know, if I keep getting injured like this, I’m not going to have much of a future left as a bull rider.”

  “They say in the papers that you wouldn’t get injured so much if you weren’t such a hot head and didn’t take such risks. It’s just like on the motorcycle, you just can’t help yourself, can you, baby?”

  “It’s something about my personality,” said Colton, shrugging his big shoulders.

  I glanced around and saw that the girls I had dismissed somewhat rudely were huddled together and talking in a conspiratorial way. They were giving me glances here and there. I didn’t like the looks of it.

  “I have to use the bathroom,” I said.

  “No problem,” said Colton.

  “Why don’t you come with me?” I said, giving him a wink, an idea suddenly flashing in my mind.

  “I…”

  “Just come on,” I said, pulling Colton by the hand.

  There weren’
t private bathrooms like I’d been hoping.

  But the bathroom was somewhat clean and well kept for a country bar’s bathroom, or at least the way I would have imagined them.

  I took Colton into the bathroom, despite his protests.

  “Shouldn’t I wait outside or something,” said Colton, looking around nervously.

  “Calm down,” I said. “There’s no one else here.”

  I don’t know what had come over me. But I knew it had something to do with those hot girls in the bar, those hot girls who wanted Colton. They wanted my man. And I wasn’t going to let them have him. I was overcome by a lustful-sort of jealousy. It’s not that I thought Colton would do anything. I didn’t think he would cheat on me…but I just wanted to make sure. I wanted him to know he could have an exciting time with me too. Plus, the whole situation was making me feel more adventurous.

  “Come on here,” I said, pulling Colton into the stall with me. I had to practically drag him in there. He seemed uncomfortable to be in a women’s bathroom. “Never been in a woman’s bathroom before?” I said.

  Colton shook his head.

  “Well, let me show you what can happen in here.”

  “Did you see all those magazines out there by the sink? And the couch?”

  I laughed. “What? They don’t have that in the men’s bathroom?”

  Colton shook his head.

  I got down on my knees.

  I reached up and grabbed Colton by his strong hips.

  “Hey,” he said, somewhat surprise. “What are you doing.”

  I put my finger to my lips to signal him to be quiet. “Someone could come in,” I whispered. “Keep quiet.”

  “Someone could come in? But…”

  But Colton fell silent. He looked on amazed as I reached up and unbuckled his thick belt.

  Dexterously, I unbuttoned his jeans. They were a little dirty. The dirt was probably from the rodeo. But I didn’t mind. So what if Colton didn’t wash his clothes as much as I did? He was a cowboy at heart, after all.

  I pulled Colton’s cock out from his underwear. It flopped out, long and already starting to fill with blood.

  It wasn’t totally erect yet. Good, I thought to myself, he hadn’t gotten erect from looking at those other young girls. But I would make his cock hard soon enough. I was surprised in the moment by my own thoughts. They seemed much dirtier than usual. But I couldn’t help it. This was who Colton was turning me into, and I really didn’t mind at all. It was fun to feel this sense of freedom, to feel somewhat dirty, to feel really sexual.

  My lips connected with Colton’s cock.

  At first, I just worked on the tip.

  His cock soon grew to its full size, pointing up at an angle.

  Colton moaned softly, but I waved my hand at him to be quiet.

  The door hadn’t opened, but I knew that someone could come in at any moment. That’s part of what made it so much fun.

  I worked my lips down around his thick shaft. It felt truly wonderful in my mouth.

  I slid my mouth down along his cock, bobbing my head up and down. My hair was becoming undone from the bun I had it in, but I didn’t care.

  Colton reached down with his strong hands and gripped the side of my head. If a guy in a one-night stand had done that, I would have been enraged, and felt violated. But I loved it when Colton did it. I loved having him hold my head like that.

  The door swung open. We both heard it.

  Colton had been bucking his strong hips slightly. He stopped, frozen in his position.

  But I didn’t care.

  I kept sucking, moving my mouth expertly along his cock. I used my tongue to swirl it along his shaft.

  The taste was extraordinary…I got lost in it. For a moment, I completely forgot there was someone else in the bathroom.

  I heard the door to the stall next to us swing open. I saw a woman’s feet down below the stall wall.

  Fortunately, she didn’t seem to see us. But, honesty, I wouldn’t have cared if she did.

  This was unique for me…I was getting almost as much pleasure just giving pleasure to Colton than I would have it he had been fucking me. Of course, it was a different type of pleasure. But it was intense just the same.

  Colton didn’t last long.

  He bucked his hips, finally cumming. He let out a moan…a moan that sounded unmistakably male.

  The women in the next stall over didn’t say anything. She just quickly flushed the toilet and left the bathroom.

  I realized then that even if Colton was the bad boy…that it was rubbing off on me…I was being the bad girl just as much as he was the bad boy. He was slowly transforming me…it wasn’t something he was consciously doing. It was just, as I said, rubbing off of me. That’s the best way to explain it.

  Colton’s cock spasmed in my mouth.

  His cum flooded my mouth.

  I loved the taste of it. I had never liked the taste before, and had always avoided getting it in my mouth, at almost all costs. But I surprise myself. I swallowed every last drop of that delicious salty sperm…it tasted almost like oysters on the half shell, in a weird way. Maybe his semen was different, and had a different taste, or maybe it was…well, I had read that both semen and oysters contained significant amounts of the mineral zinc. Supposedly, swallowing cum was actually healthy.

  “Wow,” whispered Colton. “I’m surprised at you, Katy.”

  I just gave him a wink as he buttoned his jeans back up. I helped him with his belt.

  23

  Colton

  “Thanks for meeting with me again so soon, Colton,” said Cambridge Whitehead.

  “Of course,” said Colton, not really knowing what to say. It was he, after all, who felt he owed a thanks to Cambridge. But something about Cambridge’s demeanor made him not say anything.

  In contrast to the fine dining restaurants they had met at before, this time they were just sitting in a simple city park.

  Cambridge was puffing industriously on a very large Cuban cigar.

  Colton sat next to him on the park bench, with both feet on the ground. Cambridge had his legs crossed at the thigh, looking quiet stylish in a suit.

  Cambridge spoke in a low voice. The whole atmosphere reminded Colton of those Soviet era spy movies, where spies would meet in public parks and do ‘dead drops,’ or conspire behind newspapers, whispering secret code words to each other.

  “So what’s the plan?” said Colton. “You said you were ready to share the next step with me.”

  Cambridge smiled, but didn’t say anything for a few moments.

  “Yes,” he finally said. “And I believe you are ready. You know, I don’t take on just any clients. I find that I chose my clients as much as they chose me. I did a whole background check on you, Colton. You wouldn’t know what I know about you.”

  “Is that so?” said Colton, fidgeting with his cowboy hat, and shifting his feet in his cowboy boots.

  “Nothing too unseemly,” said Cambridge, with a grin. “But anyway, the point is that I know you’re the man for the job, so to speak. I’m going to make you a lot of money, Colton. And you’re going to make me a lot of money. It’s a mutually beneficial relationship, right?”

  Colton nodded. He was wondering what would come next. This talk was all sounding a little strange to him, if he was honest with himself.

  “So here’s the deal, Colton. First of all, when you hear celebrity news, and you’re trying to be a celebrity remember. Anyway, when you hear celebrity news, what do you hear about? Do you hear about their dogs, their jobs, their new movies, or their marriages?”

  “Their marriages,” said Colton, slowly, not sure where Cambridge was headed with this line of thought.

  “Exactly,” said Cambridge. “And you have to know what most of those marriage aren’t real. I mean, really, what are the odds that two famous people are going to get married to each other, when there are millions if not billions of
other suitable, yet non-famous people, for them to chose from?”

  “I don’t know,” said Colton. “I always figured they met on movie sets or something like that.”

  “That’s true for a small minority of the cases. But the vast majority are fixed marriages. They are set up by people like me, Colton. Us top agents have an eye for the newspapers, and eye and a sense of publicity. We know that we can increase the popularity of a client just by setting them up with a new client, and staging a marriage.”

  “So the marriages aren’t real?” said Colton.

  “Well,” said Cambridge. “They’re real in the sense that they’re legal and everything. But no, they’re not real. And usually the stars and celebrities go on dating whoever they were dating before the fake arranged marriage. But the important thing is that the couple is seen together, going out to dinner, walking the dog, that sort of thing. Usually it’s necessary for them to live together.”

  “And they just live like roommates?” said Colton, astounded. He had never suspected that this was the case with all the celebrity couples he had heard about. Although, granted, Colton didn’t exactly follow celebrity news that closely. Sometimes he merely happened to glance at a tabloid cover in the grocery store or something like that. But he had to admit that what Cambridge was saying, no matter how strange, had a certain ring of truth to it…it made sense in a way, since almost all the celebrity news he could remember from the last decade was about some famous couple getting married or getting divorced.

  “Well, yes,” said Cambridge. “They usually are supposed to be like that, celibate. And most of them are dating other people at the time. But you’d be surprised how often I’ve had to deal with one of these celebrity couples falling in love for real. I guess close proximity and constant contact actually does often make love…”

  “Wow,” said Colton, not knowing what to say. After a pause, he said, “So why are you telling me all this?”

  “Really? Colton? I never thought you were dumb, but I guess bull riding is more your specialty. I’m telling you all this because this is exactly what we’re going to do for you. We’ve arranged the woman already….your wife.”

 

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