Girls Vs. Love

by Mona Cox

  Fucking me while working my clit, he drives me to the edge of pleasure and then throws me off it. I go from my hands to my elbows, barely enough strength left in my arms to support myself. And still he keeps on thrusting, his movements vicious and wild, a sweet savagery to the way he moves and demolishes my pussy. I scream as an explosion goes off inside my body, one so violent that I dive head first into the mattress, the sheets muffling my scream of utter ecstasy.

  “More…” I say, turning my head to the side so that I can get the words out. My muscles are still twitching and burning, but I need more; I need him to fuck me until my conscious mind fades away entirely, and all that’s left of me is unbridled unconsciousness.

  “Gladly,” he groans, taking his cock out of my pussy. He places his hands on my ass cheeks and, spreading them wide, he then starts rubbing the tip of his cock up and down my crack. I grit my teeth as he presses his thickness against my asshole and I scream again as he starts sliding it in. He does it without no hesitation or gentleness; he just slides it in at a steady pace, his thick shaft pushing my inner walls back on its way in.

  “Fuck,” I groan, grabbing at the sheets and bunching them up with trembling fingers. He drives all of his inches into me, and then he starts pounding me furiously, my body rocking back and forth with each coming and going motion of his. Now that he’s in control of my mouth and pussy, it’s time he takes my ass as well. And that’s exactly what he does; he fucks me as if I exist just to please him and, right now, I’d say that’s the truth.

  “Don’t stop,” I tell him, this time wanting him to cum as well. I need to feel his warm juices on me, his cock gushing out that raging river over my body… God, I used to be such a sweet innocent girl, and now look at me: desperate to have Danny cum all over my naked body after fucking me in the ass.

  I love it.

  “All the way, Danny…” I moan. “I want you to… fuck me… all the way…” I continue, my eyes closed shut as pleasure tears my brain apart. My ass tightens up around his shaft like a vice as I come again, waves of merciless pleasure crashing against both my mind and body, but this time I feel his cock pulsing too.

  “I’m going to --” he starts, but he never gets to finish his sentence. He stops thrusting and, his cock buried deep inside my ass, he starts gushing out in a torrent. I feel his warm semen filling me up, and it only takes a few seconds for it to start dripping out of my ass. I crawl slightly forward, forcing his cock to pop out of my ass, and I feel thick strands of cum hitting me straight on the back.

  “Yes, do it…” I moan, turning around so that I’m lying flat on my back, my hands squeezing my breasts as he holds his cock in one hand and sprays his seed all over me. His head is thrown back, an expression of utter bliss on his face.

  When he opens his eyes to look at me, I can only imagine the glorious sight in front of me; I’m covered in cum, almost from head to toe. I feel it dripping out of my mouth and down my face, and both my tits are drenched in it, streams of semen making their way down the side of my body and staining the sheets underneath me.

  By the time he’s done, his cock no longer spraying me with cum, I’m almost drowning in it. I sit up on the bed and, without thinking, place both my hands on his face and pull him into me. Our lips touch and the world around us fades away into nothingness.

  Our tongues battle one another, dancing over the blanket of cum inside my mouth. But he wants more, and so he pulls back from our kiss and, using the tip of his tongue, traces a straight line toward my breasts. Scooping up all the cum he can find, he then returns to my mouth and we kiss again, gooey drops of semen glistening on our chins as we surrender to uncontrollable lust.

  “This is it,” he whispers suddenly, looking into my eyes with an expression far more powerful than a lustful one - an expression of love. “This is everything I want. Forget about the Super Bowl, as long as I’m with you I’m going to be the happiest man on Earth.”

  “I can say the same, you know?”

  With that, we hold each other and sit there, in silence. We’ve said everything we needed to, and now we only need our eyes to keep the conversation going.

  Danny Manning, my heart’s MVP.

  38

  Epilogue - Fiona

  “Holy shit, he’s going to -- TOUCHDOWN!” Cody yells, jumping from his seat and brandishing one fist up in the air. I jump up too, and it seems that the whole stadium is going to erupt. The crowd roars like a giant monster, and I scream as loud as I can, a big smile on my face.

  Danny ran through the defense like a hot knife through butter, cocked his elbow with clockwork precision and then sent the ball through the air in a perfect arch. It landed neatly into the wide receiver’s hands, and all he to do was dive into the end zone. Touchdown with five seconds on the clock, and the Nailers were down by three. And this is the big game - SuperBowl.

  “I did it! I fucking did it! Danny shouts, running through the field and heading straight for me. He takes the strap off his helmet, lets it fall on the grass and then jumps over the barriers between the field and the seats. He grabs me with his big hands, pulling me into his arms and crushing his mouth against mine. “I did it, babe!” He cries out, an expression of pure ecstasy on his face.

  “I knew you would,” I tell him, kissing him back. “Now go get that trophy - you earned it.” With a wink and a smile, he gets down onto the field again, and assumes his position for the mandatory five seconds left.

  The MILFs try to make a miracle, but it’s too late for them. The referee call it in, and everyone goes completely crazy. I wave my Nailers’ flag up in the air, grinning like crazy as the whole Nailers team congregates in the middle of the field, two big guys grabbing Danny and carrying him on their shoulders.

  The Nailers comeback is one for the history books - they took a mighty beating during the first half of the game, and then they completely destroyed everyone in their during the last twenty minutes. And all thanks to whom? Danny Manning, of course - the best player in the league, and my man.

  Working like crazy, the stadium workers set up a stage in the center of the field, and a parade starts as the Nailers line up on the stage, eager to get their hands in the big prize. Two scantily clad women bring the trophy onto the stage, and they head straight to Danny.

  I can almost see the excitement in his eyes as he curls his fingers around the trophy’s handles. He raises the trophy into the air and the crowd roars once more, chants of Danny! Danny! echoing through the stadium.

  Someone shoves a mic into Danny’s hands, and the chants die a little as everyone wants to hear what the Nailers’ savior has to say. Do you want to know what his first word is?

  “FIONA!” He cries out, looking straight toward me. “Get down here!” He says, and the cameras focus on, my confused face showing on the Jumbotron. “Get down here,” he repeats, and Kim pinches my arm.

  “Go,” she whispers, and Cody pushes me up to my feet. I climb down the barriers clumsily with the help of two police men, and then I start making my way toward the stage, suddenly feeling as if I’m at the center of the universe, every single pair of eyeballs in the States watching me.

  The moment I’m close enough to Danny, he laces my waist with one arm and pulls me into him. “This here,” he raises the trophy in their with one hand, “I owe to this woman.”

  The crowd claps and shouts, and it takes almost a minute for the commotion to die down.

  “But you know what?” Danny continues. “Although I wanted this trophy for a long, long time… Now that I have it, I discovered that I had already won the big prize - Fiona’s heart.”

  He passes the trophy to one of his teammates and then turns to me, looking me straight in the eyes. I look back at him, not knowing what to say - or how to say it -, and then he does something I wasn’t expecting at all.

  He goes down on his knees.

  “Will you marry me, Fiona?” He asks me, his words echoing through the stadium as someone hands me him a small velvety box. He snaps
it open, and an enormous diamond ring gleams inside.

  The whole stadium has gone silent, and the only thing I can hear right now is the steady pulse of my heart. I open my mouth to speak, and I feel salty tears rolling over my lips. God, I’m crying.

  “Yes! Yes, I will!” I cry out, going down to my knees in front of me and kissing him. “I will marry you, Danny Manning…” I whisper, trying to choke down a sob. I don’t think I’ve ever been happy enough to start crying, but here it is - I’m a whimpering mess of happiness right now.

  The stadium erupts in a chant, the sound so deafening I can’t even make out what everyone’s screaming. Right now, the whole States - if not the world - is seeing Danny propose to me and slip his diamond ring into my finger. And now the whole world also knows that I’m the happiest woman on Earth.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Danny tells me, going up to his feet and picking me up from the floor. I place one arm around his neck and just hold tight onto him as he walks down the stage.

  “Where are you going? You need to be here for the celebration, Danny!” The league’s commissioner starts to say, rushing down the stage and following after us. Without even bothering to slow down, Danny’s reply is a quick one.

  “We’re going to do our own celebration,” he says, looking back over his shoulder at the commissioner.

  “I love you,” I tell him as he walks inside the stadium’s tunnel entrance.

  “I love you too,” he whispers, the long shadows inside the tunnel wrapping themselves around us.

  Happy endings - the hype is real.

  Lisa Vs. Outlaw

  Billionaires, bosses, professors, princes…whatevs, ya know? I need a real man.

  Good luck finding an outlaw in the Hamptons.

  Just because someone has some whips and chains doesn’t make me go all gooey.

  I mean, I could just go buy that at the dollar store.

  Nope. I need rugged. I need alpha. I need an outlaw.

  Not some white collar criminal either. Insider stock trading does not make you an outlaw. Neither does stealing cable. Or tearing the tags off pillows.

  But that’s all I have to choose from.

  Until I meet Diesel and get captivated by his mysterious eyes, and insanely hot body.

  He’s the total package - emphasis on the word “package”.

  Now there’s just one question. Will his bike ever be the same after I ride on it? And I’m not talking about the Harley either ;)

  *** It’s the cute single girl versus the Big Bad Outlaw in this sixth installment from Mona Cox. Guaranteed to be sweet, steamy, sassy, and fun. No cheating or cliffhangers. HEA? You know it, babe! ***

  39

  Lisa

  I swirl the gin and tonic in front of me as I listen to Christine sigh happily over Lover Boy.

  “Oh, and then, he bought me this!” She holds her arm out so everyone can admire the emerald-encrusted bracelet on her arm. It’s beautiful, even if a bit old-fashioned for my taste, but Christine’s eyes sparkle as much as the emeralds when she adds happily, “It was made in the early 1800s for the queen of France! Can you imagine?”

  I try not to roll my eyes in time with the swirling of my gin and tonic, but really, this is all getting to be a bit too much. Yeah, I want my friends to be happy, but the gushing and the gems? Can anyone say “over the top”?

  We're at the Boathouse, just three friends enjoying a Sunday afternoon together, but I have to admit, my oh-so-in-love friends are mostly just spending it outdoing each other by comparing Lover Boy stories.

  Ashley jumps in. Of course Ashley jumps in. She's just as bad as Christine, if not worse. “Apollo hasn’t given me anything that used to belong to the queen of France, but he did buy me a Maserati the other day. It’s so fun to drive; I should take you two out for a spin in it! One at a time, since it’s just a two-seater, of course.”

  “More than the gifts,” Christine sighs, and I swear to god, this is true; she clasps her hands in front of her as she talks, like an actress from the 40s or something, “it’s the love and attention he gives me. Anders is more attentive than anyone—”

  Okay, I can't help it anymore. The snort came out. It's loud and patrons three tables over turn to stare, but I just can't hold it in anymore. The love in the air is so thick, I can hardly see through it anymore.

  “Are we making you ill over there?” Ashley asks, eyebrow cocked at me.

  “A little,” I mumble into my suddenly-very-important-must-drink-right-now gin and tonic. When they just continue to stare at me, I shift in my seat and sigh.

  “I just…” I look out over the lake as I try to pick the right words. “I haven't found anyone like that for me, you know? I wish that I liked soft guys. I want—”

  “There’s nothing soft about Anders,” Christine breaks in with a naughty wiggle of her eyebrows. Ashley titters knowingly and I only barely restrain myself from rolling my eyes again.

  “I want a Long Island tough kind of guy,” I say, trying to explain. “I want a man. I want a beast who'll come along and fuck me. I think all the real men died out in the 1950s and now they’re all too afraid to say what they really think. Everyone is obsessed with being politically correct.”

  I listen to the gentle lap of the water against the boat deck as Ashley and Christine outdo themselves, assuring me that their new, amazing boyfriends are not soft and weak, but rather hard and ready to fuck at a moment's notice. I listen, but they don't really seem to get it. They're too in love to realize that their men aren't perfect. At least, not the kind of perfect that I want. I want the perfectly unperfect. I want a man who makes me his, and doesn't ask questions.

  I don't want a polite businessman in a suit, no matter how expensive that suit is.

  I pull out my iPhone and check the time. Dammit, I better hurry! I have a pedicure across town, like, now!

  “Listen you two, sorry I have to run but I’m going to be late.” I throw some cash down on the table and give Ashley and Christine air kisses. “I’ll catch up with you guys later.”

  I hurry out of the Boathouse and across Central Park, shoving the idea of a future Perfectly Unperfect Just For Me fantasy out of my head. I have a manicure, dammit! If I make it over to the 81st Street subway station, I might still make it on time. My fingernails are getting ragged, and there's just no way I can make it till tomorrow to have them fixed. Plus, Chaz would punish me for a week for standing him up.

  I hurry down the stairs and into the subway. It's a little grimy but I do my best to ignore that. I only take trains under extreme circumstances, but even I know they won't actually kill me. I'll just have to scrub underneath my fingernails extra carefully today.

  Waiting for Train 6, I pull out my iPhone again, and instantly double tap the Instagram pic of the three of us that Ashley just posted. I may roll my eyes every time I hear them sigh about how happy they are, but seriously, they are some of my closest friends. I do want them to be happy. I just don't want them to be obnoxiously happy. That’s possible, right? I flip over to Facebook to check to see if—

  Someone runs into me. A small someone. My phone fumbles in my hands as I'm looking down to see a small boy running down the platform and my phone is going sideways and I'm going sideways, trying to catch it and then, I'm falling, falling...

  Wham!

  The breath is knocked out of me and I'm staring up at the concrete ceiling, trying to figure out what just happened. Where...

  I scramble to my feet, moving awkwardly because I hurt so bad but I didn't seem to have anything broken, so that was a good sign, right?

  Except...as I shove my phone back into my Coach purse, I realize—I'm on the fucking train tracks. And the platform is, like, waaayyyy tall. If I stand on my tiptoes, I can just barely see over the edge and onto the platform. A few jumps, a few times of grasping the edge of the platform and pulling, and…

  I've got nothing. I never knew that pull-ups would be the difference between life and death.

 
So here I am, trapped, all because I hate doing pull-ups at the gym.

  Oh fuck.

  I can hear a train coming.

  Which is when the screams begin.

  40

  Diesel

  So there I am, walking through the subway, and I look over to see a lady just disappear. Flash – she's just gone. A little kid is running off, down the platform, but no one else is there.

  The top of her head appears and then disappears, then up to her chin and back down again and I realize that she's trying to jump her way out of the train tracks.

  I react then. There's no thinking, no contemplating the consequences, I'm just going. Fuck the turnstiles; I jump them with ease and I'm running, heart pumping, as I sprint across the platform and throw myself down into the train track area, the landing sending shooting pains up my legs.

  God, that hurt, but I didn't have time to worry about that. I pick up the blonde and throw her over my shoulder and then from there, throw her up onto the platform above us. I can hear a train coming, barreling down on us, and I'm motherfucking high-jumping my way out of this because if I don't, I'm going to die and the train is honking and screeching on its breaks and I throw myself up, up and away, and I'm rolling across the platform, through the dirt and the grime and the train is still screeching but goddamn, I'm alive.

  I lay there for a moment, gasping for breath, staring up at the ceiling, when the lady's face comes into view.