Offense & Defense: A MMF Sports Romance

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Offense & Defense: A MMF Sports Romance Page 55

by Alexis Angel


  His body fits on mine like a piece from a puzzle, and he doesn’t waste any time; grabbing his cock, he guides it home, placing it against my soaked pussy and thrusting. This time I can’t choke down my scream, and so I just do it at the top of my lungs, his cock scorching the nerve endings on my inner walls as it goes in.

  “As hard as you can,” I find myself saying, not even knowing why I do it. I know how hard I can go—at least I think so—and I’m not sure if I can handle all that right now. I mean, how many orgasms have I already been through so far? A gazillion, right? So what makes me think that I can handle one more? No idea, all I know is that I want it. And, like a genie, Chase is the right man to make my wishes turn into reality.

  “I told you before … You ask, you get,” he tells me. Digging his fingers into my hips, he starts slamming his cock into me so hard that I even stop breathing for a few seconds. All these times I’ve told you he was fucking me hard? Yeah, forget about that; they pale in comparison to the sheer fury with which he’s fucking me right now. He’s moving like a man possessed, the fires of hell burning under his skin and powering every thrust of his.

  I scream and I moan, forcing my throat to keep working past its exhausted state, and he just keeps on fucking me as if I was as quiet as a mouse. I don’t even know if he can hear me, to be honest; he’s probably in a world of his own right now, his conscious mind completely adrift. Chase might seem like a poised man, always cool and in control… But get him hot and bothered and he becomes like a wild horse, completely untamable.

  Screaming my way into a climax, I come undone the moment his thrusts become so hard I stop thinking at all, completely surrendering to the way he’s ravaging me. I claw at the floor, completely mad and not knowing what to do with my body as an orgasm unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before bursts inside of me.

  My muscles twitch so hard that it feels like I’m having a seizure and, by the time these spasms subside, I can barely move. My eyes are closed, and the silence in the room makes it seem like I’m floating in outer space. I’m dizzy and lightheaded but, when Chase slides his cock out of me, a tiny voice inside my mind tells me that it still isn’t over. There’s something I still need to do.

  I sit up on the floor and force my eyelids open. I go to my knees and then look at Chase with my mouth slightly ajar. A grin lights up his face as he realizes what I want him to do, and he goes up to his feet in no time, towering over me.

  I don’t even need to think about what I have to do; my body already knows it. Reaching for his cock with both hands, I start stroking him right away. My rhythm builds up fast, but then I break it by leaning in and wrapping my lips around the tip of his cock. He groans as I do it, and then he groans some more as I push my mouth down the length of his shaft at a breakneck speed. Bobbing my head as fast as I can, this time I don’t stop when I feel his cock pulsing hard inside of my mouth; I just keep on doing what I’m doing. In a matter of seconds, he places both his hands on my head and cums.

  Gushing a river of cum into my mouth, he fills it up to the brim with two quick spasms of his cock. His warm semen leaks out of my mouth and drips down into my chin.

  Pulling out, I grab his cock and stroke him as he keeps on cumming, spraying my face with his seed. I throw my head back, basking in it, and just grin wildly as he shoots the last strands of cum onto my skin.

  Peeling my fingers off of his shaft, I decide I want all of his cum, and so I lean once more into him, swallowing the cum I have inside my mouth as I do it. I take his shaft into my mouth and lick it dry, circling its tip with my tongue and only stopping when there’s not a single drop of cum on his cock.

  “You’re completely crazy,” he tells me, but he’s going down to his knees as he says it.

  “Yes, I am,” I smile at him. He kisses me then, one hand behind my neck as he holds me close.

  “You’re lucky, though.”

  “Why?”

  “You’re exactly my kind of insane.”

  102

  Chase

  The week is passing in a blur of riding Moonshine, sex, riding Carla, and lots of takeout food.

  I may’ve always thought I’d end up with a wife who cooks and wears an apron in the kitchen, but Carla’s skills … elsewhere more than make up for that. I don’t mind eating at a restaurant every night; it’s what I would’ve done without her anyway. It’s just that now, I get fucking amazing sex to go along with it.

  Have I mentioned how amazing our sex is? Because it is. Morning, noon, and night. Fuck-until-you-drop territory here. I've never met anyone with as voracious an appetite for sex as Carla has. It takes a lot to keep up with me, and yet somehow, she is.

  I’ve never been so happy.

  After one of our marathon sessions, I cuddle Carla up next to me, loving the feel of her warm body next to mine. I run my hands over her hair, smoothing it back in an endless loop. My mind drifts back to the advertisement for a cowboy at the Barclay’s Arena in Brooklyn. I haven’t said anything to Carla yet.

  I should. I know that.

  I just…I’m not ready to pop the cocoon around us. A job at the rodeo – a permanent job at a specific rodeo – would mean staying here. Settling down permanently. I’m just not there yet. I’m happy with what we have right at this very moment. Why move forward with something else?

  Plus, I have a lot of business interests in Texas. I’d either need to hire someone to manage it all for me, or I’d have to sell it off. That isn’t something I can just do tomorrow. Right now, I’m just happy right where I’m at – in the Hotel Pennsylvania, Carla by my side.

  Except, if I’m being honest, the job is never far from my mind. I need to make a decision at some point. Maybe after the MSG rodeo is done. Just another two weeks. I can live in this fantasy world until then, right?

  “We aren’t the only ones who are happy,” Carla says with a smile in her voice, interrupting my thoughts.

  “Oh really? Who else is happy?”

  “Becca and Jason. Did you know that they’re already talking about marriage? That’s just way too fast for me, but I guess if it works for them. Just yesterday, Becca was looking at houses…”

  She continues on, but I’ll admit, I didn’t hear anything else that she said. Goddammit, Jason! Leaving me to always clean up his messes. I really ought to punch him more often, just to keep him in check. I feel myself tensing up. Carla is going to take this about as well as a hole in the head, but if Jason is really telling Becca that...

  “Carla, baby,” I break in gently, and she stops, shimmying her head on my shoulder so she can look up into my face.

  “What?”

  I pause, trying to find the right words, and now she’s tensing up too. She knows there’s something wrong. I only wish I could tell her something else. Anything else.

  “Jason is married already. He has a wife and two kids in Oklahoma City. Another on the way. He’s not marrying Becca.”

  I held my breath, waiting for the explosion.

  Carla didn’t disappoint.

  “WHHHAAATTTTT?” she yells, jackknifing up in bed. “What do you mean, he’s already married?”

  She swings around and glares at me, mental bullets whizzing at my head.

  Have I mentioned yet that Carla is scary when she’s mad? ‘Cause she is.

  “Well, he got married about eight years ago,” I say, trying to answer her question. “I was a best man at their wedding, you know. Real nice gal – pretty as can be on their wedding day—”

  “I KNOW WHAT A WEDDING IS!” she hollers, grabbing her pillow and whacking me about the head with it. “BUT HOW THE FUCK IS JASON ALREADY MARRIED?”

  I instinctively raise my arms to shield my face and torso from her blows.

  “Annnddddd…” more hits with the pillow – damn, she’s strong – “why is Jason talking about marrying someone when he’s already married? Did he think no one would notice he’s a goddamn bigamist?”

  “I—”

  Whack


  “don’t think—”

  Whack

  “that he thinks—”

  Whack

  “that they’ll get married.”

  Whack

  Finally, she stops hitting me long enough to spit out, “So he’s just playing with her, like a cat with a mouse?”

  “It’s just what he does,” I say with a helpless shrug. “Although, he doesn’t normally talk about marriage with the girl. Usually, he just fucks ‘em and leaves ‘em. It’s what he does at every rodeo. I think he’s broken more hearts than Tim McGraw.”

  Unfortunately, Carla isn’t hitting me anymore, because she’s busy getting dressed. Regretfully, I watch her shove her feet into her shoes and wiggle her way into her skirt. At least I get to see the jiggling, right?

  “You motherfucking goddamn assholes,” she grinds out, “both of you. You didn’t think to say anything? You didn’t think to try to save Becca’s heart from heartbreak?”

  Honestly, I hadn’t realized that Jason had taken it this far with her, but I keep my trap shut. Carla doesn’t seem like she’s in a listening mood.

  “Enjoy Texas,” she says sarcastically. “Maybe in those parts, cheating on your wife is perfectly normal. The next time I hear someone from a fucking flyover state start talking about ‘family values,’ I’m going to tell them to piss off. Oh, and Chase? You can piss off, too.”

  She slams the hotel door behind her, the sound reverberating through my heart.

  Fuuuuccckkkk

  103

  Carla

  Becca and I sit at a table at the Papillon, as far away from the live opera as we can get. Becca may love opera, but to me, it just sounds like someone trying to give a cat a bath. Don’t tell Becca that, of course. I like to pretend with the best of them. I even have a “favorite” opera, if anyone asks – Carmen. Never mind that I’ve never been able to get through a single showing of it without falling asleep. The important part is, I can name an opera.

  I swirl the Long Island Iced Tea in my hand, trying to block out the caterwauling, as I listen to Becca prattle on.

  “I’m not upset with Jason, you know,” she says. “It was fun to play house for a couple of days with a handsome cowboy, but really, his dick was too small for me anyway. I could never be happy with it long-term. I think I was just fooling myself because it was a distraction from regular life, you know? He came over yesterday to get his stuff; tonight is the last show and then they’re heading back home.”

  Her words tear at my heart. Chase is leaving? There’s been a part of me that was okay with not being in the same room as him – not happy, but okay – because I knew he was in the same city.

  But Becca is right; the show does end tonight, and why would he stay after the show ends? There’s no point in that. It’s not like he loves New York City like I do. It’s not like he’s going to move here, just so he can breathe the same air I do.

  It’s not like I want him to do that.

  Right?

  I realize that there are tears dripping down my face. I’m so embarrassed. I dash at my face with the back of my hands. Without a word, Becca picks up a cocktail napkin and offers it to me. I dab at my face, trying not to smear my makeup everywhere, but let’s be honest – I’ve never been a pretty crier.

  “Honey, you haven’t said much about Chase to me, but I do know that you’ve been damn miserable these last two weeks,” she says, stroking her hand through my hair consolingly. “If he is what makes you happy, you have to go after him.”

  The opera music – if you can call it music – reaches a crescendo, making it hard to talk. I wait for it to die down before saying, “But he’s a cowboy. What does a cowboy and a city girl have in common?”

  “You should go talk to him and find out. You have to try. Girl, you have it worse than any person I’ve ever seen. You look like shit. You’re lucky I’m willing to be seen in public with you.” I let out a sharp bark of laughter and she just shrugs with a grin. “That’s what kind of friend I am, willing to go out into public with a zombie.” I wad up my cocktail napkin and throw it at her. She bats it away with a laugh. “But seriously, if you love him, you have to give it all you've got. Or you’re going to regret it later.”

  I stand up, throw back the last of my iced tea, and give Becca a hug. “Thank you,” I whisper in her ear. “Thank you for everything.”

  “You know it,” she says with a smile. “Now go kick some ass! Or, at least kiss some cowboys. Close enough.”

  Yeah, close enough.

  I hurry out of the Papillon, my ears thanking me for that, even as I pull my phone out and text for an Uber. It looks like there’s one close by, and I watch it on the screen impatiently. It’s already 10:30 pm. I have to get to the arena ASAP. I have to get my ass in gear.

  The Uber pulls up in front of me, and with a sigh of relief, I jump in. “Madison Square Garden,” I say, and then, I have to wait. My fingers are drumming nervously on my thigh. I’m watching the streets flash by; I’m watching the pedestrians wander down the street. How many of them are in love? How many of them have found what I have? How many of them wish they’d found what I have?

  You have to give it all you've got. Or you’re going to regret it later.

  I’d already spent the last two weeks in a world of regret. It’s about time I start making decisions that I will want to wake up to in the morning.

  Or wake up with.

  Can I move to Texas? Can I become a housewife? I wonder if there’s takeout in Texas. Surely they’ve learned the concept of delivery out there, right? I’m pretty sure they’ve figured out how a phone works. I can survive in Texas. I can survive anywhere, as long as I have Chase by my side.

  I jump out of the Uber as soon as it pulls to a stop in front of the MSG. I stare up at it and realize – the lights are dark. Everyone is gone.

  I pull my employee pass out of my pocket and slide it through a card reader, letting me through a side door and into the arena. Maybe he’s still here. Maybe he’s giving extra oats to Moonshine. Maybe he’s...

  Only the security lights are on. I stumble a couple of times in the darkness, and then I realize that tears are swimming in my vision, blinding me.

  Twice in one day. For someone who never cries, I’m starting to set personal records here.

  But...

  But no Chase?

  I stop, looking around me wildly. I can’t find him anywhere, I can’t...

  I start bawling, tears streaming down my face, inconsolable in the semi-darkness. Just me and the MSG arena. I can’t see, I can’t breathe. I can only cry.

  I’m too late.

  104

  Chase

  I’m running a curry brush over Moonshine’s sleek flanks, talking quietly to him.

  “Hey boy,” I say. “It’s time to head back home. Are you ready?” His ears flicker at my words, and I wonder again how much he understands. Does he know the word ‘home’?

  I continue brushing him, watching the flickering coat under the brush in the pale light that the security guard let me keep on. Usually, they would’ve kicked me out already, but I told the guard I needed a little more time to clean up, and after being won over by Moonshine’s personality, even feeding him a small container of oats, the guard agreed to give me as much time as I needed.

  Truthfully, I’m just stalling. I don’t want to leave. Jason has flown back to Oklahoma, his wife having heard about his latest escapades, and is rightfully pissed the fuck off. I wouldn’t be surprised if she divorces him. Jason can be a real good guy, but he can also be a jackass. I don’t envy his wife one bit. I would’ve had him castrated long ago if I were her.

  “I’d never castrate you, Moonshine,” I say, patting his flank. He nudges me, looking for more oats. Apparently, he has more important things to worry about than the production and usability of his dick.

  I wish I felt the same way.

  I’d never missed anyone the way I’ve missed Carla. The last two weeks have been hell on earth. I—<
br />
  I push Moonshine away and walk toward a sound. What is that? I can’t place it, but among the pop and buzz of fluorescent lights shutting themselves down for the night, and Moonshine’s soft nickering, begging me to come back and brush him some more, I can hear something…weird.

  I walk faster, my heart pounding in my chest. Is it…? Could it…?

  I burst out into the hallway and take off running down the corridor, the safety lights giving me a dim path to follow. That sound…it’s a girl crying. It’s...

  I make it out into the main arena, and there’s Carla, bent in half, sobbing hysterically. It tears at my heart to see her like this, but more than that, I want to pull her to me. I want to touch her. I want to be with her.

  She looks up, hearing my pounding boots, and her face drops in surprise. “Chase!” she squeals and just like those cheesy movies where they run toward each other in slow motion, Carla and I sprint toward each other. No slow-mo for me, dammit.

  I snag her and twirl her around and around, kissing her repeatedly all over her face and neck, hugging her to me. “Why are you still here?” I ask, setting her down and pulling her against me. I’m running my hands up and down her back, wanting to pull her into me, to become one with her. I never want to lose her again.

  “I came to tell you Iwolfdue,” she says, muffled by my shirt.

  I decide to let the girl breathe a little, and loosen my arms around her.

  “What?”

  “I came to tell you I love you,” she says, staring up at me, her eyes shining with tears. “I don’t want to live without you, and if I have to move to Texas and learn how to cook and put on an apron, I will. There’s takeout in Texas, right? You guys have figured out phones and the Internet and shit?”

 

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