Their Secret: An MMF Secret Baby Romance

by Cassandra Dee

  But Martine knows me too well, and she smiled, bouncing up onto her knees.

  “You can't seriously ask me that question when you look like you've been giving blowjobs all night.”

  I gasped and clapped a hand over my mouth, instantly remembering how Mason had covered my mouth to stop me from making noise while we had sex. Blushing even more, I ripped my hand away and dropped my phone on the bed.

  “No, I haven’t!” I protested weakly. “Seriously, you’re imagining things.”

  “Nuh-uh,” Martine shook a finger at me. “Don't think I don't notice that man-rash on your neck, Sara. You look like you've been rolling around all over some guy’s face. After you gave some hard beej.”

  And finally, I collapsed because this was all so silly. Beej? Man-rash? Rolling on a guy’s face? The words were hysterical on their own, and unable to help myself, I giggled. Martine is funny, and this was how she always gets me to confess my petty sins, by cracking me up. I shook my head at her, stepping over to my dresser to grab my PJs before heading to the bathroom.

  “You’re not gonna get away, Sara,” she called to my disappearing back. “Not when I’ve shared so much!”

  Sighing, I stepped into the hallway with my robe, but Martine was right. She told me everything about her life with her boyfriend, Chris. Not so much info that it was gross, but just a regular type of sharing that happened between friends. So I sighed.

  “Okay, fine. I'll tell you when I get back. But you have to promise not to freak out.”

  “Seriously? How can you say I shouldn't freak out and expect me not to freak out?”

  I ran off to the bathroom. When I came back freshly showered and dressed for bed, Martine was waiting. She'd put her books to the side but still had her glasses on, sitting cross-legged in the bed, drinking from a can of Coke with a straw.

  “Okay, spill it.”

  I took a deep breath, not quite knowing where to start. “Okay, so remember when I told you about going to the pool today?”

  “Yeah, it totally sucked except for the hot lifeguard who saved your life.”

  “Exactly.” I lifted my head to look at her, trying to keep calm. “I saw him at the bar tonight.”

  “Jesus! And he’s the one you fucked?!” She jumped up onto her knees in the bed, looking both shocked and excited. “But you just met him today!”

  “I know, I know,” I blushed.

  Nearly an hour after the alley sex, I was still waiting to feel bad about it. But all I felt was tingly and hot, remembering every powerful thrust of his penis inside, making me ache and cream. I squeezed my legs together and hissed from the sweet pain.

  “So, it was good?” Martine grinned, devilishly sweet in her curiosity. “Did you come?”

  My damp hair moved around my shoulders as I nodded. “The first time, I was so shocked that I—”

  “Wait?” Martine put up both her hands. “He made you come more than once?”

  “That's not supposed to happen?”

  “Girl, you won the fucking lottery tonight!” Martine jumped up and down on the bed, leaping across the room with her hand up. “Gimme five! That's freakin’ awesome!”

  I gave her the reluctant high five. “Okay...”

  “Okay, nothing. My first time hurt like hell and I didn't come at all. It took my boyfriend like eight tries to make me come and I had to bring my vibrator to bed with us to make even that happen.”

  I could only stare at her, wide-eyed.

  “Holy cow, I had no idea.”

  “No shit.” Martine went back to her side of the room and the bed bounced when she dropped back down onto it. “So, tell me who this sex god is. Maybe I can have him give Chris some pointers.”

  The thought of Mason telling another man how to please his girl made me giggle.

  “I don't think he's that type. He's kinda rough. Like...you know.” I growled like a bear, feeling silly. Giddy.

  “He's not a student lifeguard?”

  I shook my head, unable to even imagine him going to school with us. I'd never get any work done if he was in any of my classes.

  “I think he works in town. I've never seen him at the pool before.” None of the whopping three times I'd been there anyway.

  “Okay.” A frown wrinkled Martine's brow. “I think I might know this guy, but it doesn't even seem possible that...” She trailed off, but I could imagine what she was about to say. That she couldn't imagine him going for a girl like me. Not because of my size, because Martine's not mean or stupid. She knows that plenty of big girls get laid with no problems on this campus. But I'm shy and always in my books and, until a little over an hour ago, I was a virgin. Not a girl to give it up to some stranger in an alley, with no protection, bumping her butt up and down begging for it.

  “Tell me more about him,” Martine said slowly.

  This time, I buried my face in my hands to hide my blush. “Um...he's tall. Dark haired and...”

  I described Mason's gorgeous face and blue eyes, that deep black hair and chiseled body covered in tattoos. Oh god, those tattoos had been so fucking arousing, covering his back and arms, highlighting the muscles of his chest and abs.

  “Tattoos?” asked Martine slowly, biting on a pencil.

  “Yeah. All over his arms and across his chest. He's even got one low on his belly, right where his six pack ends, stars with a name between them, I think.”

  A sudden memory of Mason with his jeans open and shoved down those thick thighs flashed before my eyes and I creamed slightly into my fresh panties. Oh god, how did he do this to me? Even the memory was enough to make me cum, to make me lose it.

  “Oh my God. You fucked the steel SEAL!” Martine's eyes went huge behind her glasses.

  “Who?”

  “The guy!” She jumped up on her knees again, although this time she looked worried for me instead of excited. “Remember I was telling you about this dude who hangs out at Killian’s sometimes? That off-duty SEAL who's hot as hell?”

  “The one who's had just about every cheerleader on campus?” That didn't seem right.

  “Exactly. That's the one. He fucks them once and then he's gone. Never sees them again. And when they try to come up to him in public, he just pretends he doesn't know them.”

  That didn't sound like the same man who'd put his mouth on me, who'd called me baby and asked me on a date.

  “I don't—are you sure?” I stammered, unsure.

  “Pretty sure,” Martine said, her face scrunched up in a frown of worry. “The tattoos sound right. And you met him at Killian’s tonight, right?”

  “But we're hanging out again tomorrow night,” I added slowly. “Why would he ask me out if he didn't want to see me again?”

  “Well, if it's the same guy, he's probably just trying to score one more time before he dumps you,” my friend tossed off.

  And after a moment's hesitation, the blonde crossed the room to sit beside me on the bed. “Whatever you do and whatever happens, do not get involved, okay? This guy is bad news. Especially for a just plucked girl like you,” she said.

  But I didn’t want to believe her, so I ignored every word she said. Because big things were in the works, and I wanted them to happen so bad. All my life, I’ve been boring Sara, the one who you can count on, always the designated driver. But this time, I was having fun, and you know what? I loved it. I loved having Mason in me, I loved the way he growled, the way he owned me, the way his hands slid over my curves so possessively. So I smiled quickly at Martine before switching off the light.

  “Got it girl. Do not get involved,” I repeated obediently.

  But as my friend’s breathing grew even and still, I lay awake, thinking of my steel SEAL. Mason was everything I wanted, unbelievably hot, and totally off limits. So I was gonna go for it, throwing myself into the mix … even if it meant getting hurt.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Mason

  I didn’t even know why I was here.

  With no one to see, I squirmed at a
sheltered back table of one of the best restaurants in town, hands fisted on top of the starched, white table cloth as I watched the people around me. Waiters in their monkey suits. Couples leaning toward each other over the small floral center pieces at each table. Mixed groups in their nice clothes.

  Overall, Giuseppe’s Ristorante was all right. It was someplace I'd probably bring my family to if I had one. Ma, Pop, the imaginary chick I was seeing. Definitely not the place to bring a girl I only fucked once. So what the hell was I doing?

  But even a whole twenty-four hours later, I couldn't get the sweet sounds she made out of my mind. For a first timer, Sara had been so fucking into it, throwing her pussy back at me and making my dick even harder when I shoved balls deep into her.

  Fuck. She was the best virgin I’d ever had.

  Never mind that she was the only virgin I ever had.

  Even when I got my cherry popped in high school, it was the self-proclaimed class slut who did me the favor. Only after we were done, both of us sweating and just about stuck to the leatherette back seat of her parents’ car, did she tell me she'd fucked me on a dare.

  Whatever. I didn’t give a fuck, pussy is pussy, dare or not.

  At least not until last night.

  Because Sara is a different kind of female. The girl’s virginal pussy is the best I've had in a damn long time, those killer curves had dropped me hard to my knees. Even after we finished fucking, my jism dripping from her slit, I wanted her again. But in a bed this time. I wanted to see her face, wanted to go at her slow and easy, rough and hard, and everything in between. All damn night.

  Sitting at Giuseppe’s fancy table, my pants were getting tight real fast. After a quick look around to make sure I wasn’t about to offend somebody, I adjusted my dick under the cover of the white tablecloth. Damn, Sara wasn't even here and she was making me hard again. I was starting to think this was going to be a pattern with her. If I let it be a pattern.

  Shit. It was weird enough that I'd asked her to come out with me, and to Giuseppe’s of all places. We’d both come hard in the alley last night, she’d been more than satisfied, panting and heaving. That should have been the end of it. But no, I had to open my big mouth and invite her out of all things. And not even the kind of eating I was usually good for. I looked at my watch. Ten minutes to eight.

  I was always compulsively early. It’s a military thing, being late was beat out of us with a stick. Plus, being early gives me time to check out a place beforehand and to case the place just in case. Call it a control thing.

  So when Sara walked in, I saw her all right.

  God. Damn.

  My dick jerked reflexively, straining against the stiff denim of my jeans. The female’s body was even better than the last time I saw it, lush and bouncy in another dress, this one purple with ruffles over the boobs. The modest, knee-length material covered those wide hips and hung down to her calves, toned, heavy ones that made me ache to suck and bite.

  I caught myself. What the fuck? I shouldn't want to bite shit, I was more of a “pump and dump” type of guy. Put it in, spurt, you’re done, wham, bam, thank you ma’am. But damn, with Sara, it was easier said than done. This girl had me good. I couldn't wait to eat her virgin pussy again, letting those sloppy juices run down my chin.

  God, the things I could teach her.

  I groaned, completely chubbed up under the table cloth. Shit, this was embarrassing, how the fuck was I gonna greet her? Standing up was out of the question, my stiffie would shock this place. So when Sara made it to the table, I settled for the asshole route.

  “Hey,” I grunted, not bothering to stand. “You look nice.”

  That was definitely not what I meant to say.

  But her shy smile made my slip worth it. Those pretty cheeks dimpled and her big, brown eyes warmed my soul.

  “Sit,” I said roughly, and used my foot to shove out her chair on the other side of the table. Another asshole move, but she still stared at me like I’d hung the motherfuckin’ moon. The girl obviously doesn’t date much, that was clear.

  And smiling shyly at me once more, she settled that curvy form in the chair.

  “This is a nice place,” the female murmured, scooting up so the chair was closer to the table, just a foot or so away from me.

  And the scent of her almost did me in. Fuck, that delicious, arousing smell. It was something sweet and aromatic, the same smell I'd caught from her at the pool, tempting me to bury my face in her neck and her tits. I licked my lips hungrily, but then caught her watching me. And shit, but she wanted it too because although her dress was cute, damn near a nun's outfit compared to the shit some of these chicks around the city wore, those nipples tightened visibly, pressing through the cloth like bullets. Oh yeah, my little virgin slut wanted me bad. Real bad.

  And shit, but I wanted those tits in my mouth again. At this rate, Chubby was never going to disappear, I was so fucked. But still, against all habit, I tried to do the right thing, making conversation like this was a real date.

  “It is a nice place,” I said, agreeing with what she’d just said. “But I’ve never been here before. A buddy of mine told me about it.”

  Sara didn’t have to know the gory truth. My buddy came here a little too much, with both his wife and the woman he was seeing on the side. And the unbelievable part of it was that both women knew, and had even played in bed together a few times. But that was too much info for Sara’s innocent ears.

  “He says the fish is good,” I grunted, staying in safe territory. “And the steak too, if you like meat.”

  “I do like meat,” Sara said, then immediately blushed face flaming red. Because at that moment, I wanted nothing more than to drag the female into the bathroom and show her my meat. She would look good with my fat dick stuffed in her mouth, those pink lips stretched wide, the spit from her blow job slicking down the length of my dick. Oh fuck yeah, my cock jerked again under the table and I shifted uncomfortably, trying to hide the chub.

  How the fuck was I gonna make it through this dinner? How the fuck was I gonna survive without blowing a gasket and coming hard on that little girl in some way, shape or form?

  But I had to try. I had to be decent with an eighteen year-old virgin, one that I’d plowed just the night before. So taking a deep breath, I rumbled, “If you haven't had meat before, you should probably take your time with it.”

  What the hell was I trying to do? Warn her off?

  “You don't want to choke if you go too fast,” came my rough words again. “It can be hard to take the first few times.”

  Okay, maybe I wasn't trying to warn her off after all. Because Sara’s eyes had gone warm and melty, a hungry smile on her lips. Instead of the pink gloss from the other night, she was wearing something darker and thicker tonight. Still pink, but not as subtle. And instead of licking at the color, she pressed her lips together and dipped her eyes low. Then she looked up at me.

  “I want to try it again,” she said softly. “It takes some getting used to, but I liked it.” Her voice tripped over the next words. “If you'll let me, I'd like to do it again.”

  Fuck. The semi that was starting to go down became full blown wood. Hard as fuck and ready for anything she could take. Did she even know what she was saying? She was offering a feast to a starving man, and it was all I could do not to tear off her clothes right there and go to town plowing that sweet pussy.

  Damn, how could this virgin be the one to drive me crazy? It was all happening too fast, and after just one fuck. One amazing fuck, sure, but still.

  “I'm always ready, baby,” I ground out and left it at that since the waiter was coming over. Not that I cared if he overheard, but girls are funny about shit, and for some reason, I wanted to make a good impression on Sara. Which in and of itself, was unreal. Normally, I don’t give a shit with what females think but in this case, things were turned upside down and inside out, confusing as all get-out.

  “What can I get for you?” the waiter asked aft
er introducing himself. His pad and pencil were ready, smile pleasant enough.

  Before I could say anything, Sara spoke up. “I'd like some beef.”

  The waiter nodded approvingly as he took a note. “How would you like it?”

  She blinked at him in confusion. Of course, she didn't know how to take her meat, and the thought made me crack a smile.

  “Medium well,” I told the guy. “With a baked potato and—” I quickly skimmed the menu for the sides listed with the steak. “—some broccoli. Butter on the side.”

  The waiter looked at Sara as if to see if she agreed with my choices, and she blushed and nodded, giving the skinny dude permission to take notes. Shit, it isn’t often that I order for a female, usually I’m not at restaurants wining and dining them. But with Sara, again, everything is different. It felt good to take charge, it felt good to tell her what she wanted, leading her through the menu.

  And after he left, we settled back with the drinks. I’d ordered her a raspberry martini, some pink shit with a swizzle stick, and a Heineken for myself. I love a cold beer, but there were limits because tonight wasn’t the night for whiskey dick. Not that I suffer from ED, but Sara was young and hungry and could probably go all night. If that was where this 'date' was heading, I wanted to make sure we were both happy at the end of it. And ‘happy’ meant orgasms, at least two a piece, if not three, four or five, that sweet curvy body shaking and heaving throughout.

  I eyed her tits again, poking out at me through the dress and my dick took notice of how juicy they were. How tight and ripe. Fuck it, I wasn’t gonna have a problem drilling her again and again, the girl was just too luscious and tantalizing.

  But her sweet voice shook me from my dirty thoughts.

  “So, Mason,” the girl murmured as she lifted martini glass to her mouth, delicately taking a sip, that pink tongue flickering out to lick up some salt. Holy fuck, did she have any idea what she was doing? How tantalizing her movements were? I groaned silently, dick jerking under the table.