Offense & Defense: A MMF Sports Romance

by Alexis Angel

  Patsy: Oh my God! Congratulations!

  Julianna: Thank you!

  Ethan: Thank you!

  Patsy: Who's the father?

  Julianna: We decided we didn't want to know. We're going to love him or her just as much.

  Colt: But we know it's really probably me. I mean, I'm a potent force in the reproductive field. My little guys destroy Ethan's any day of the week....

  Ethan (laughing: As Julianna was saying, we decided we don't want to know. We don't think it's important.

  Colt: Because in the end, we love each other.

  The three hold hands and smile in genuine affection to each other, their gazes lingering on Julianna.

  Patsy: Well, I wish you all the best and congratulations once again. Thank you for being on and we'll see you next season.

  Coming up, stay tuned for our highlights of this season as well as our predictions on the New York Nailers new passing game. Also, we discuss draft picks. Who will the Toronto Trannies pick as their first round choice? Stay tuned.

  Cut video.

  Second Epilogue - We’re Not Done Yet ;)

  After a long day of moving, the boxes have finally arrived and been assigned to their proper rooms. I spend some time fixing up the master bedroom where we’re all going to sleep. I have my favorite pillow in the middle. I can’t wait to be sandwiched in between Ethan and Colt on a daily basis. Just the thought gets me wet.

  I reach down to touch my pussy over the fabric of my yoga pants. I shudder as my finger brushes against my folds. God, I need them. Now.

  Don’t get me wrong. We had sex in the morning. But they’re like a drug. I need it more and more.

  I hear voices coming from the den. Colt and Ethan have literally spent the whole day unpacking and arranging the den with leather couches, a dart board, bar, pool table, bookshelves, a globe, sofa, and desks. Figures. While I did the bathroom and bedroom for all of us, my boys did their playroom.

  Still, I smile as I walk towards the den and hear Colt. “No fucking way, Ethan, there is no way we’re going to watch CSI in here. Not on my watch.”

  “What possible grudge could you have against one of the most popular shows in America?” Ethan asks, exasperated.

  “We just need to get this interview with Alexis Angel sorted out tonight if since she’s releasing her book about us,” Colt says.

  I admit, I’m a bit surprised by Colt’s words as I walk into the den. Is Colt being responsible? He’s changed a whole lot, but can it be this drastic?

  I’m also surprised by how nice it looks. Very homey, relaxing, and the sort of place you could get lost in for hours on end. I resolve that I’m going to spend just as much time in this room as Ethan or Colt.

  “You’re talking about the set of questions she sent us from alexisangel@naughtyangelpubishing.com right?” Ethan asks. “That’s her email address that you can contact her at any time.”

  “Yeah, but it’s not the only way to reach her, man,” Colt says. “You should fucking know that the best way to stay informed with that woman is to sign up for her newsletter at http://eepurl.com/cWhMqD.”

  “Then you got nothing to worry about,” Ethan says with a grin. “I already sent the bonus chapter out for her readers. They’ll get it once they finish reading about us.”

  “You fucking sent it out without showing me?” Colt asks, evidencing anger.

  Ethan shrugs. “I told her I could do your part,” he says.

  “Why the fuck would you do that?” Colt asks, angry.

  Ethan shrugs. “Because I love you?”

  This brings Colt up short. “Oh,” is all he can say, disarmed. “I fucking love you too. Fucker.”

  “How much do you know about Alexis?” I ask, as both of them stare to look at me.

  Ethan shrugs. “Alexis Angel,” he begins as if reciting from memory. “She’s a quirky kind of girl. But good fun though, I think if you like the kind of things she likes.”

  Colt laughs, “You mean like dancing, fucking, and big cocks?” he asks. Ethan shrugs. “That’s like all that girl can think about.

  “She’s an author,” Ethan says. “They’re allowed to be weird.”

  “Fucking right,” Colt says. “But she fucking writes safe, happily ever after pieces but it’s seriously like reading porn.”

  “And she’s calling the piece she wrote about us very steamy and exciting, I’ll bet?” I ask with a wicked smile as I look at both my boys.

  “What do you expect from someone living in New York,” Ethan says. He looks at me and I see a smile on that ruggedly handsome face. “New York values, and all.”

  “She loves getting flowers, especially when not expecting them,” Colt says.

  Ethan looks at Colt. “Have you been sending her flowers?” he asks.

  “I don’t need to,” Colt says. “I get enough love from Julianna.”

  He looks quizzical for a second and looks at Ethan.

  “Why the fuck do we keep talking about her like we’re doing a fucking bio, bro?” Colt asks.

  Ethan thinks for a second. He tries to figure out what to say, but he can’t either.

  Both of them look to me, and I smile. I know the truth, but I’m not telling them. Especially because it’s so much fun keeping this one secret. For now.

  “Do you want to keep talking about Alexis?” I ask them, taking a step forward and bringing my hands to my sides and running them up my body. “Or do you want blowjobs.”

  As if there was any doubt to the answer, both men turn towards me and their eyes take on a hungry look.

  I smile. I do keep them satisfied. I know this. Ever have sex so much that you’re sore the next day? Well, by the time I’m done with Ethan and Colt, they can barely walk.

  “You guys know about the Dirty Lil Angels?” I ask, taking a few steps closer to them. “That place is the fucking shit,” Colt says. “But you can also find her regular profile page too.

  “Right, but I usually follow her on Twitter,” Ethan says.

  Colt snorts. “That’s because you’re an idiot.”

  “I think you never go on Twitter, Colt,” Ethan says with an exasperated sigh. “Because you’d never be able to say anything in less than 140 words – never mind 140 characters.”

  “Whatever,” Colt says, unable to respond.

  I smile. I love watching the banter between the two. But sometimes I need to exercise some discipline.

  “You’re talking about her again,” I say sternly. “Do you want to invite her?”

  Colt shakes his head. I can’t blame him. They can both feel the desire coming from my body.

  Because right now, I’m hungry.

  And I’m feeling naughtier than usual.

  I smile and advance towards Ethan, pulling him by the hand until he’s standing next to Colt.

  Their eyes tell me they know what’s coming, but I can still see the excitement by the way they look at me.

  I give them a sinful grin and reach over and pull up my shirt, throwing it to the floor.

  “Oops,” I say to them. “I’ve gotten your room a bit dirty.”

  Ethan smiles and places his hand on my breast, kneading my flesh. I shudder at his touch as Colt unfastens my bra.

  “Not as dirty as we’re about to get it, babe.”

  I smile and run my hands under their shirts down both men’s solid abs. I stop when I get to their belt buckles and I take a few seconds each to undo them, dropping their pants to the floor.

  I sink to my knees as they both lower their boxer briefs, exposing two 12-inch cocks in front of me.

  I grin and open my mouth and take in Colt. He tastes divine.

  With my other hand, I jerk Ethan’s hard cock and bring it in to join Colt’s in my mouth.

  Both men shudder and close their eyes. Colt draws Ethan closer and the two share a kiss as I begin to bob my head on both cocks.

  Yes, this room is going to get very, very dirty.

  Just the way a bad girl likes it.

&
nbsp; _______

  LOL - you think this is the end?

  Well, maybe it is for this book, but if you’ve come this far, I’ve included several bonus books! Read on!

  It’s your to read, if you want!

  Thanks!

  A Note From The Author

  I hope you enjoyed this blast from the past story, improved in ways that I never got a chance to when first publishing it.

  I always see this as an opportunity to thank my readers, and so this time around I’m including a few new niftier bonus stories.

  Mona Cox as a catalog was recently unpublished. I’m including several Mona stories here as a thank you. As well as a copy of Man Chaser.

  I hope you enjoy them!

  Alexis

  Description

  Alright, Mr. SEAL. You’re sweet. And that’s a giant…uhm…’fin’?

  But, like, why do you like me?

  You protect me all the time. Even when I don’t know you’re there.

  I mean, you take strong and silent type to the extreme.

  But it’s cute. It’s sweet. I can’t get enough of you.

  And if other people fall in love at hello, I fell for you at just your glance. Mainly because you’re so quiet you didn’t even bother saying hello.

  But WHO are you?

  What do you want with me?

  Will you stay?

  I’m dying because I need to find out…

  *** It's the cute single girl versus the Big Bad SEAL in this installment from Mona Cox. Guaranteed to be sweet, sassy, and fun. No cheating or cliffhangers. Happy Ending? Always, babe ***

  30

  Stacy

  Good morning, New York, I think to myself, taking a deep breath as I step out of my apartment building. The air is fresh and clear, and the colors of the city look vibrant in their morning dress, the sun making its steady climb over a clear blue sky.

  It’s a good day to be alive.

  I march onto the sidewalk, blending in with the crowd of New Yorkers, and start making my way toward the studio. It’s one of the ultimate luxuries, the way I see it - being able to walk to work every morning. No buses, no subway, no endless lines of impatient people clutching their coffee cups. Just me and the click of my heels on the pavement, the morning breeze gently whipping my hair back.

  Buying an apartment here, 53rd and Lexington, was probably one of the smartest things I’ve ever done. It’s only a short stroll to 53rd and 6th Avenue, where Rockefeller Center rises from its concrete roots to tower over its domain, which means I can commute in about five minutes. And without that terrible morning anxiety.

  “Stacy!” One guy in headphones waves at me from the other side of the street, and I wave right back at him, a cheery smile on my lips. I’ve never seen him before, but that doesn’t count for much. I’m the lead singer on Saturday Night Laughs, which kind of makes me an household name in the country.

  “STACY!” Another girl squeals from behind me, and I hear her sure footsteps closing in on me. “Can I… take a… selfie?” She asks me as I turn on my heels to face her. There’s a crimson flush to her cheeks, and she’s breathing hard, which means she has probably ran all the way toward me. She has pretty eyes of a clear green, and her red hair is tied up in a bun, which gives her a tomboyish look; all in all, she can’t be older than fourteen.

  “Sure!” I tell her, placing one arm around her and smiling to her phone as she holds it up in front of us.

  “Thank you, Stacy! You’re the best!” She chirps, looking down at her phone with an expression of pure delight.

  “Have a good day, sweetie.” My smiles widens as I walk down the street, a few more girls waving at me. Two selfies later and the Rockefeller Center’s shadow falls over me, almost as if it were greeting me back. I take one quick glance at my wristwatch - I’m not late yet, since I always make sure I leave home earlier than I need to - and start making my way toward the studio.

  That’s when I hear someone groan from the side. I stop and look around, trying to see where that sound is coming from, and then a cry of pain makes me face the dark alleyway just a few steps behind me. I walk back, stopping right before the long shadows of the alley swallow the morning warmth, and blink, my eyes adjusting to the pale light.

  Straight like a train track, and equally narrow, it feels like the alley is out of place in here. Sitting on the hard concrete floor, there’s a man with a ragged jacket; he’s clutching one arm close to his chest, his teeth gritted as he groans in pain.

  “Please… Help me…” He groans again, raising his eyes toward me. He seems old, an unkempt beard adorning his cheeks, the creases around his eyes like grooves on wood.

  “Are you okay, sir?” I ask him, taking a few steps into the alley. The shadows swallow me whole, and the sounds of New York seem to be muted as the cramped walls around me stop them.

  “No… I… Please, help,” he groans again, unsteadily going up to his feet, his back against the wall.

  “What’s the matter, sir?” I ask him again, closing the distance between him. The moment I’m within reach, his eyes narrow smartly and he moves as fast as a snake, curling his dirty fingers around my right wrist. “Hey! What are you doing?” I cry out, but he just pushes me back and presses me against the wall.

  “Shut up, bitch!” He hisses, and suddenly he looks much younger than what I thought initially. Slumped on the alley, he looked as if he had sixty years on him, but now that he’s up close I’d say he isn’t older than forty. “Money and phone,” he growls, taking a small knife from one of the pockets in his ragged jacket.

  “Okay, okay…!” I cry out, holding my breath as the foul stench of alcohol and cigarettes hit me. I fish my cellphone and wallet from inside my purse, and he snags them out from my hands as fast as lightning.

  “What the fuck is this?” He whispers, disappointed, as he looks at my old cellphone. I’ve always been somewhat of an old-school girl, and so I still have one of these old flip phones, a throwback to when people used the things to talk to each other. With an angry scowl, he throws my cellphone to the ground, the back cover jumping out and turning into a million plastic pieces. For good measure, he presses the heel of his boot onto the screen, ruining it for good.

  “Just take the money and go!” I say as he opens my wallet, frowning as he takes three five-dollar bills from the inside.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” He whispers, leaning into me threateningly. The stench coming from his mouth hits me in full-force, and I make an effort not to retch.

  “The credit cards… Take them!”

  “The fuckin’ credit cards, uh?” He whispers to himself, taking a golden one from inside the wallet and making it turn in its fingers. “You’ll just cancel them and --” he stops talking as his eyes find the salient silver letters on the plastic card, spelling out my name. “I know you!”

  “I don’t think --”

  “Yeah, you’re that singer from that Saturday show…” The creases in his forehead seem to deepen, and his eyes start to wander up and down my body. This isn’t looking good. “A woman like you likes expensive things, right?” He asks me, his eyes focused on my shoes. Oh, seriously? “Take ‘em off! Now!” He growls, waving his knife at my shoes. “Or I’ll cut ‘em off of your pretty lil’ feet!”

  “Screw you!” I hiss right back at him, snagging my wallet from his hand and kicking him hard in the shins. No way in hell am I giving him my Christian Louboutin’s. These heels cost more than $1000, and no way in hell am I going to hand them out without a fight.

  You don’t mess with a girl's’ shoes.

  “Fuckin’ bitch!” He cries out, pushing one arm back and then hitting me across the face with the back of his hand. The impact makes me spin around, and I feel something give out inside my ankle. I press my back against the wall, losing control of my body, and then stumble onto the dirty pavement.

  “I told you I’d cut ‘em off your feet, bitch,” he says, lowering his voice as he points his knife at me, taking on
e heavy step toward me. My heart tightens up inside my chest and I hold my breath, my brain trying to think of a way out but finding none.

  I’m screwed.

  “Maybe I’ll cut something else too…” He continues, the blade in his knife reflecting the alley behind him. I grit my teeth, preparing to try and fight him off, and that’s when I see something - someone? - reflected on the mugger’s blade.

  And, just like that, something hits him on the side of his head and he falls over, his narrowed eyes turning white as he loses consciousness.

  What the hell?

  31

  Sanders

  Red dress, black high heels, and a confident strut - now that’s a woman whose every step demands attention.

  I stroll casually down the sidewalk, keeping the distance, but my eyes are drawn to the perfect shape of her body. Every step she takes makes her body sway in a delicious way, her thighs moving unhurriedly and her ass cheeks clenching in such a way that I can’t help but imagine how it’d feel to slide my hands down the side of her body.

  Damn. That ass is basically rippling. What I wouldn’t do to put my tongue in the middle of those cheeks. Just lick. Oh, yeah. Then pull out my cock and stick it in between those cheeks. Give them a good smack. Unngh. I bet she has no idea what I want to do to that fucking hot body.

  Okay. I gotta stop this.

  I take one deep breath and keep on walking, watching as a few girls approach the woman in the red dress, cellphones in their hands. I feel the muscles in my body tightening up as the woman stops more than twice for photographs, and I only relax when she starts going on her way uninterrupted.

  Suddenly, she stops right before an alleyway, and I stop dead in my tracks as I notice her walking toward the shadows there and talking to someone. She clutches her black purse close to her chest and, still talking, hurries inside the alley.