Offense & Defense: A MMF Sports Romance

by Alexis Angel

“Brittney, are you paying attention?” the photography director calls out and I snap my head toward him. “It seems like you’re not listening or trying. I’m sorry.”

  I sigh.

  It really shouldn't be this hard. All I’m supposed to do is look sexy. That’s the whole point of this photo shoot.

  And I promise you, I’m trying. The whole thing is resting on me now that I’m picked to be the face of the I.E.

  I’m going to be starring in the first interactive virtual porn experience.

  It’s going to be different from the old days though.

  For one thing, I’m not actually having sex with anyone on camera. I’m not having sex at all to make this happen.

  I’m going to be pretending to have sex, so when the viewer puts on the glasses, they think that I’m the one who they’re fucking. It kind of ruins the mood if they see another cock in there.

  There’s some computer graphics involved, but a lot of it first involves capturing my pictures as I pretend that there’s a cock inside of me. Or that I’m blowing somebody.

  Even the cumshot is going to be done on the computer.

  Crazy, right?

  That way the viewer only has to specify using his eyes where he wants to cum, and the software will use a pre-made cum shot and target it there on my body.

  I’m one woman, doing a man-woman scene.

  The only problem is, we’re still stuck on the promotional trailers.

  I don’t know why. I just can’t feel as sexy right now.

  Maybe it’s the fact that there are so many people around me, seemingly interested more in their own tasks than on my nearly naked body.

  Maybe it's the fact that the last time I did this was with Robert, and that man makes me feel singularly unsexy.

  Or maybe it’s the fact that I’m here under false pretenses. That Ethan thinks I’m going to be the new face of his product.

  When I’m actually here to steal it from him and give it to Simon.

  I mean, sure, Man Chasers LLC was all about deceit. But I was there deceiving men who were too stupid to realize they shouldn’t be cheating on the woman that they pledged their lives to.

  If a man was going about doing that, and willing to cheat on his wife, then fuck him. He deserves everything that he got by fucking me.

  But this is…different.

  Simon is paying me to lie. But he’s also paying me to steal.

  I have no idea why, but I do know that if I don’t do this, he’s not just going to not pay me. He’s going to destroy my life.

  Tell me something, hun. If you were in this situation, would you even feel remotely sexy?

  I mean, I felt sexy every time I did porn. But no one was holding a metaphorical gun to my head. I wanted to be there, under those lights, seducing on camera.

  Apparently, not only am I not being sexy now, but I’ve stopped even being remotely attractive because the photography director shouts out, “Okay, everyone, let's take five!”

  I sigh.

  If I don’t get my act together then I’ll have fucked this up before I even get a chance.

  I need to somehow catch Ethan’s eye. Then I need to get my way into his trust. And then I need to find what I’m looking for and take it.

  I can hand it to Simon and then get the hell out of here.

  I’ve saved up several million over the years; I can easily relax and live off of it for a few years. Maybe go to Paris. And then Rome. And maybe Venice.

  I’m thinking about Venice and if there’s ever a chance to be a modern day courtesan again when I see him.

  There, coming into the studio.

  Ethan Kane.

  You remember how I gave you that sob story basically about me and my situation? Told you it made it hard to feel sexy?

  Well, I hate to say it because it makes me totally look so wishy-washy, but honestly, just seeing Ethan now is getting me kinda tingly.

  I mean the other day, you saw me when I did the audition. I came during a lap dance.

  I’ve never been a stripper or anything. Like I could never be that cold and money hungry every minute. When I get turned on, I totally go all the way.

  Well, I went farther than I intended I think. You remember? I mean, I know I was telling you that I lost complete track of the people around me.

  God, I came so hard on top of him.

  And then once I got home, I came so hard thinking about it. And don't let me even get started about that night at the restaurant …

  And now, looking at him come into the studio, and look around in confusion as everyone takes their five minute break, I forget all about my troubles.

  It’s like the world is melting around me and once again, it's just him and I.

  “Tommy,” I call out at the sound guy who is still at his post. “Can you play something with a bass?”

  He nods to me and pushes a few buttons. The instrumentals to something that sounds kind of like hip-hop comes on.

  But Tommy’s gone from my head now. I mean, so is everyone else. I’m staring at Ethan and from the corner of the room as he walks closer, I know he’s staring at me on the bed.

  All of a sudden, my body is moving to the slow cadence of the music and I want nothing more than for Ethan to come join me on the bed.

  I crawl over toward the bed, bending my body lower, hoping he gets a view of my tits as they hang. They’re starting to feel really sexy in this bra.

  Ethan walks closer and I can see him now more clearly.

  He’s wearing a shirt that's hugging him like a second skin. You can see his pecs; they’re bulging. His biceps are rippling. He could easily lift me and hold me up if he wanted to and not break a sweat.

  He could use me as a sex toy, I think to myself.

  I mean, don’t you think that, when you look at him on the cover?

  Just lifting you up?

  You’d spread your legs for him. He’d maneuver you like a sex object. Use the entrance to your pussy to rub the head of his cock around a bit.

  Oh yeah. Just imagining the tip of his cock against my pussy lips is getting me hot.

  I love it.

  I bring a hand back, running it over my ass cheek until it gets to the thin layer of fabric that’s covering my pussy lips.

  Maybe someone says something to me, but I don't care whose watching because I take a finger and start to rub my folds. It feels good.

  I feel like I’m in heat. I close my eyes and arch my back, imagining Ethan’s tongue running along me. From my pussy to my crack.

  That’s right. Like the song.

  Lick it hard. Lick it good. Just like he should.

  I shudder as I feel warmth flood my body.

  God, I want to fuck him so bad.

  I’m writhing on the bed all of a sudden. I don’t know how or why, but I’m on my back.

  My fingers go under the waistband of my thong and I run one finger over my clit now.

  That feels too good.

  If I keep doing this I’m going to…

  “Cut!” I hear the photography director yell. Followed immediately by, “Brittney, I don't know where that came from babe, but it was scorching!”

  The world starts to intrude on my haze of lust at this point and I look around.

  Ethan’s standing there, maybe ten feet away.

  I guess the people were filming the whole time.

  But who cares about that. Do you see the more important thing?

  Ten feet away stands Ethan Kane.

  His eyes are staring directly at me.

  With the biggest fucking cock tent on his crotch that I have ever seen.

  Me. An ex-porn star. I thought I’d seen everything.

  Have never seen a cock this big.

  This could be my ticket in, I think, no?

  What do you think?

  No, don't answer that. I’m already off the bed.

  I need to get into his office to figure out what the hell I would need.

  I sway my hips. I don't even
know if I mean to do any of this right now.

  It’s like my body has taken control.

  Like I’m thinking with my pussy, and not my brain.

  Ethan looks at me as I walk over. His eyes are devouring me.

  I get to within inches of him, and without touching him, lean over on my tiptoes, bringing my mouth to his ear.

  Here goes nothing.

  “I want you in my mouth, Ethan Kane,” I whisper in his ear. “Right now.”

  I can tell he stiffens at hearing me.

  But he grabs my hand and starts walking to the door.

  This assignment might not be so bad after all.

  140

  Ethan

  Holy fucking shit, I’m going to fucking cum.

  I groan loudly, my back bracing against my office door and I feel my nuts twist up as electrical impulses shoot from my cock to my brain.

  I’m having the familiar tingling sexual seizure as my body freezes up and my muscles involuntarily contract.

  Yeah, that’s right, I’m about to fucking cum.

  Sure, you may have thought you knew what was going to happen the moment I took Brittney by the hand and began dragging her to my office, but trust me, if you came in at this exact moment somehow, you would be fucking shocked as soon as you saw us.

  Once the shock passed, you would probably start getting fucking hot.

  And before you knew it, your panties would be fucking soaked, dripping with desire.

  I mean, I’m about to cum and just what we’re doing is getting me there halfway. God help the hapless window washer who all of a sudden decides to clean my windows. Poor fucker would probably fall off his platform once he saw what we’re up to.

  Brittney’s on the ground on her knees. She didn’t waste any time as soon as we got into my office.

  She pushed me against the door as I closed it and sunk down to her knees.

  With expert fingers, she unbuckled and unzipped my trousers, letting them fall. She yanked down my boxer briefs and took my already semi-hard cock in one hand, bringing her tongue out of her mouth as she licked the underside of my shaft.

  Pleasure went through me like a tingling current, and before I knew it, both her lips were wrapped around the head of my cock as her mouth created a suction.

  I mean that was good, but holy shit, with her free hand she just unclasped her bra and threw it across the room.

  Fuck, her stroking my cock is so fucking good. Just thinking about this whole experience and telling you about it while she does her thing is too much.

  I can’t hold it in any more. I’m going to fucking cum…NOW.

  That’s when my world almost blacks out as Brittney begins the process of milking my cock.

  I spurt.

  Let me just tell you that me saying I spurt is a fucking understatement.

  I erupt gets close to what's happening. I shoot may even be more appropriate. But still, it pales in comparison to the semen that arcs out of my tip, shooting out toward her.

  And as if absolutely ready, Brittney moves her head in such a way and sticks out her tongue that my cum hits her tongue and splatters.

  A lot of it lands in her mouth, but enough of it drips down.

  I’m still shooting cum out here. There’s a stream that hits her on her forehead. Another that gets her on the cheek.

  Thick. White. Milky. Creamy. Hot. Gooey. Sticky.

  Five. On her neck.

  Six. On her tit. She arches her back backwards and holds out her left tit. As if I have the mental fortitude to fucking aim. I’m basically twitching here as my foot-long cock shoots another volley of cum. But it manages to land on her nipple and she begins cooing in delight at the sight as she takes her hand and smears it around her areola.

  Fuck, the whole thing is so fucking dirty. But it's so fucking hot at the same time.

  My last few shots go out. One lands on the top of her head. Another sails into her mouth, which she lets drip out in tiny droplets. And the final one lands on her cheek.

  Brittney wastes no time as cum starts dribbling out of my cock, bringing her lips back onto the head and sucking out whatever wasn’t shot out.

  Fuck, let me just tell you, after an explosive fucking orgasm like that, feeling her lips on my sensitive tip, feeling her tongue on my slit, oh my fucking God.

  This woman is a fucking goddess.

  I shiver uncontrollably as she gives one final goodbye suck, and then takes her mouth off. But she doesn’t stop there.

  With all the meticulousness of a cat cleaning herself, she begins to scoop up my cum off of her body.

  First her tits. What she doesn’t smear on her chest, neck or tits, she scoops up with one finger. And brings to her mouth.

  Keeping her eyes fixed on mine, she slowly brings her fingers toward her opening mouth.

  I watch, transfixed as her tongue darts out and licks her finger clean.

  She closes her mouth and swallows.

  I swear to fucking God I’ve never been this fucking turned on by the moments after sex before.

  This is fucking unreal. Like I can feel my cock start to twitch again.

  Which Brittney sees.

  She gives me a lascivious smile.

  “You’re already for Round Two?” she asks me. “That was pretty fast.”

  “I could fuck you all night, babe,” I tell her, sneering down with undisguised lust at her. But there’s something more. Something in her eyes. Something inside of her. She’s not telling me everything.

  I mean, I’ve fucked chicks in porn before; whoever thinks I’m playing the chaste CEO of a pornography company is seriously fucking delusional, but this girl is something else.

  A blowjob is just a blowjob, but she’s made it something that I can’t really forget. I don’t actually know how Brittney made it about more than sex.

  But whatever she’s doing, whether it's the slow and languid way she’s got her hand wrapped around my cock again, gently massaging me back to life, or the way she’s looking up at me with those wide, large doe-like eyes in a totally submissive look.

  “Why don’t you start by fucking me all afternoon?” she asks me, giving me a leer that makes my knees fucking buckle it's sizzling with so much lust.

  “I guess you’re not wanting to wait,” I tell her with a grin. “But don't worry. After I’m done with my cock, you’ll barely be able to walk—let alone think.”

  Brittney gives me a quick kiss on my tip, and my cock starts flaring back to life.

  “Oh please,” she tells me with a sexy pout. “Once you’ve tasted my pussy, you won’t care where you are, you’ll want it again.”

  “I want to fuck it now,” I tell her flatly. I’m not looking to play games. I’m open and upfront about who I want to fuck.

  “You think your cock can handle it?” she asks me. “You ever seen my videos? I leave guys broken…”

  I laugh. She’s never met me then.

  And if you’re wondering, which I know you are because your mind's just as filthy as mine—yes, I’ve watched all her videos. The moment she gave me the lap dance I had Cheryl pull everything Brittney has ever worked on.

  All the stepmom shit. The neighbor next door scenes. The getting picked up by two guys in a van scene that went viral on the Internet back in the day. I watched it all.

  But I didn’t jerk off to it.

  Because why waste all that cum?

  No, I saved it. To spray it onto her face just now.

  “Babe,” I tell her and bend over to pick her up, and bring her to her feet. “I’m just going to fucking defile you like you’ve never been before. I’m going to do ungodly fucking things to your body and you’re going to cry out for more.”

  I think this gets her attention, and I run my hands over her body as I continue. “By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be lucky if you remember your name,” I tell her, looking her directly in the eyes. “But I guarantee you, you’ll be screaming mine.”

  She’s excited.


  I can tell. I see the spark in her eyes. It’s a mixture of fear, excitement, apprehension, and lust. Lots and lots of fucking lust.

  I bare my teeth and reach over, cupping her ass cheek and bringing her closer.

  She comes willingly.

  And that’s when the fucking intercom goes off.

  “Ethan, are you there?” the speakerphone blares. It’s Cheryl.

  God fucking dammit.

  Not now.

  Not now, of all times.

  “Ethan, we need you in the product launch timeline signoff. We’ve been planning this meeting for months and the bankers are here,” Cheryl says, a touch of urgency in her voice.

  Cheryl is never fucking urgent. She’s always got everything so fucking organized and so on point that if I hear urgency in Cheryl’s voice—and I think I’ve only heard it five times—I know it’s fucking important.

  But even then, Brittney is right fucking here. Her fucking luscious ass. Those big, giant titties. That beautiful face. Those fucking eyes.

  “Ethan? Ethan are you there?” Cheryl asks again.

  She must know I’m in here. She must know what I’m doing. That’s why she hasn’t gotten off the phone.

  Fuck.

  Fucking fuck.

  “It’s okay,” Brittney says, looking into my eyes and placing a hand on my chest. “We can do this later, maybe?” she asks smiling at me. Not just with wanton lust anymore.

  But with warmth.

  Fuck, and with compassion?

  “Go, do your job, Ethan,” she tells me. “I’m just going to freshen up and tidy up a bit in here before I head out.”

  I let out a long fucking sigh and my body literally quivers in disappointment, but I know she's right.

  I nod to her, and pull up my boxer briefs and pants as I walk to my desk.

  I clean my cock with a towel nearby as I push the speakerphone button on my phone.

  “On my way, Cheryl,” I tell her and hang up as I zip up my trousers.

  Brittney turns and smiles to me as she walks over to where she threw her bra.

  “You’re going to be okay?” I ask her.

  She nods and smiles. “I’m just going to clean up a little bit,” she says with a smile. “Get less sticky before I go out into the world, you know?”

  She laughs a small laugh and I smile before I walk to the door.