Offense & Defense: A MMF Sports Romance

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Offense & Defense: A MMF Sports Romance Page 42

by Alexis Angel


  My eyes keep wandering down to his swimming shorts, and I find myself biting my lip as I notice the bulge in his crotch. And I don’t think he’s even hard. How big is he, ten inches? Or -gulp- is he even bigger?

  I wonder what it’d be like to have something as big as his cock inside my mouth. Would it even fit? I don’t even want to start considering how it’d be to have him in my pussy. He’d stretch me so wide I doubt I’d be able to walk for a whole week. I can already imagine myself rolling around in a wheelchair, telling people I was run over by a twelve-inch cock.

  What am I even doing here, staring at him? Now who’s being the creep? Okay, move, my brain commands my body, but my legs refuse to obey. I’m stuck to the floor, my eyes as wide as plates as I look at the perfect specimen lying by the pool.

  “You know I can see you, right?” he shouts at me from outside, that arrogant grin of his adding an edge to his words.

  Crap! Why does he always catch me in the most embarrassing situations? Blood rushes to my face and I open my mouth to respond, but I don’t find the words. My brain is still busy trying to process how hot he looks.

  God, what’s happening to me?

  75

  Cody

  Someone’s enjoying the show.

  Kim came down the stairs and froze like a deer in headlights the moment she saw me by the pool. She seems like she’s in a fucking trance or something, but can you blame her? She probably doesn’t have the chance to see a guy like me every day. I don’t want to brag, but my body is like a fine piece of art.

  You know the best part about all of this? She thinks I can’t see her since I’m not turned toward her. What she doesn’t know is that the living room door, the one that leads to the pool, is wide open... and I can see her reflection in the glass panels.

  And, fuck, she looks stunning in that blue dress. There’s a hint of cleavage showing, and the round swells of her tits seem like they’re calling my name. And look at those legs… I just want to run my hands up them and find out what’s under her dress.

  Is she wet right now? Yeah, judging by the way she’s looking at me, I’d say she’s definitely wet. And that’s a bit… I don’t know, she’s my stepsister. Knowing that she’s wet makes me feel… I should say weirded out but, to be honest, I’m not weirded out at all.

  “You know I can see you, right?” I shout at her, placing my cupped hands around my mouth. She jumps up the moment she hears my voice, and I sit up on the pool recliner so that I can look straight at her.

  That’s when I realize I’m already hard. And with shorts like the ones I’m wearing now, it seems like I’m packing a baseball bat underneath them. So much for concealed carry. Funny, right? I was wondering if it wasn’t weird for her to be wet, and here I am sporting a hard on as big as a lighthouse.

  If I had realized how hard I am, I probably wouldn’t have said a thing. But now she knows she can’t bolt after I caught her staring at me, so she walks out of the house and starts walking in my direction. Nearing the pool, she stops just a few feet away from me.

  “I wasn’t…” she starts, stammering. Then her eyes find my cock and she looks like she’s about to choke. Fuck, not much I can do, is there? It’s not like I can will my cock into submission. My twelve-inches don’t always obey me, you know? My cock’s a wild beast.

  “Oh, I know you weren’t staring,” I tell her, laying down again, “you don’t really stare at art. You appreciate it. And that’s what you were doing; you were appreciating me.”

  Her face becomes even redder, and it looks like something might burst inside her cute head.

  “Don’t be an idiot.” She places her hands on her hips, just like she did when I first saw her. Her lips are pursed, and I can tell she’s gritting her teeth by the way her jaw is tensed up; she’s making a real effort to avoid staring at my cock.

  “Where are you going, anyway? You just got here.” I place my hands behind my head once more, flexing my pecs and letting the sun lap at my naked skin.

  “I’m going out for a drink,” she announces, her voice flexing up as she says it. Her victorious tone tells me that I should be annoyed by the fact that she’s going out for a drink… But why?

  “A drink? You don’t look like a drinker at all, ‘sis. I thought I was the specialist in this family.” I arch my eyebrows, looking at her, and she just flashes me a revealing smile: she isn’t exactly going out for a drink… She’s going out on a date.

  “I’m going out with a friend,” she says in a suspicious tone. “I have a life, you know?” Yeah, right. According to my father, Kim’s just a few years away from turning into a workaholic. Alright, these weren’t his exact words, but that’s what I understood.

  “Look at your stepsister, hardworking and responsible; you should try and learn from her”, my old man told me just a few weeks ago, disappointment in his voice.

  Yeah, the way I live my life doesn’t exactly make him proud. I drink hard and I party hard (well, I fuck hard too), and that’s pretty much all I do. Sure, I amassed some money in the few investments I made during the years, but that doesn’t exactly make me a paragon of virtue. Besides, I’ve pretty much squandered most of my money by now; partying hard every single night takes a toll on both your liver and wallet.

  “Look at you,” I tell her in a mocking tone, grinning, “such a big girl, going on dates already.” Her cheeks become flushed, so that’s really what she’s up to; she’s going on a date.

  But it’s a bit weird, don’t you think? She just got to the Hamptons a few hours ago, and she’s already going on a date. With whom?

  She takes a look at her tiny silvery wrist watch, and frowns. She must be running late already. “Well, don’t destroy the house while I’m not around,” she tells me flatly, regaining her composure, and then turns to leave.

  “Wait,” I call after her, sitting up again. “Where are you going to? In case... “ Fuck, why am I even asking her this? “In case I need you.”

  “I’m going to the Elephant Bar, but why would you need me, Cody?”

  “Just in case I burn down the house,” I wink at her. I reach for my sunglasses, put them on and lay back. She just shakes her head in exasperation and finally leaves; I follow her with my eyes, unable to stop from staring at her ass. I could do so much than just stare...

  When she’s finally out of sight and I hear the entrance door closing, I shut my eyes and try to push her to the back of my mind. But I can’t; she’s going on a date while I’m just lying here, and I don’t like that at all.

  Why? Don’t ask me, because I have no idea. No, don’t start thinking that I hate the idea of her being with a man. She’s my stepsister, why would I even care about shit like that?

  I’m just worried. She’s family after all, and you’re supposed to look after family. In the end, though, my thoughts sound like a lie; this isn’t just regular worry. There’s something else too, and I’m betting it has something to do with the way my cock is throbbing right now.

  I told you: my twelve-inches can’t be tamed.

  76

  Kim

  “It’s not a job for everyone, you know? You’ve got to be tough and smart… Just like me,” John says, and I nod quietly. He’s been going on and on about his job at Wall Street for what feels like an eternity. I’ve pretty much turned my brain off when he told me for the third time how special he was for working in finance. I get it, Mr. Important, you work in a suit all day, good for you.

  “Tough and smart,” I repeat after him, and he just gives me a proud smirk. He really believes what he’s saying. It’s not just bragging or trying to look cool; he’s truly deluded.

  He seemed like someone fun to meet, but I’m starting to regret saying yes to this train-wreck of a date. Even the pictures that Facebook removed that say “Attachment Unavailable” in my Dirty Lil’ Angels group are more interesting than he is.

  To be honest, regret started bubbling up inside of me by the time he ordered his fifth beer. Then he drank a fe
w more and switched gears, hammering down a shot of whisky for each beer he ordered. The man’s on a rampage.

  Now that he’s starting to slur his speech, I’m just looking for an easy way out. I’ve been here with him for three hours, so I think now’s the right time for me to make up some lame excuse and get out of Dodge. I left my brother alone at home, and the house might be on fire by now, I think of saying, but then settle for something tamer.

  “John, I had fun today--” I start, but he cuts me off in a heartbeat.

  “So, have I,” he whispers, drawing out his words as he places one hand over my right knee. Whoa, calm down, cowboy.

  “It’s getting late and--”

  “Yeah, it’s getting late… We should get out of here,” he whispers, leaning into me. I feel the alcohol in his breath, and now I’m more than sure that John’s never going to have a chance with me. No, my legs are going to remain shut for you, Mr. Finance. Alcohol might be a lubricant, but it sure as hell ain’t deodorant.

  I need to get laid, yeah, but I’m not desperate enough to do it with a walking beer keg. It’s sad how many people think they suddenly become cool after having a few drinks, or more than a few, in John’s case. Not everyone can be like Cody.

  From what I’ve heard back in New York, my stepbrother can drink his own weight in whisky and still keep standing as straight as a soldier in formation. And, although he’s arrogant and annoying, I have to admit that there’s a certain appeal about him.

  I wish I had never come here to this bar. I should’ve stayed home and got to know Cody better; I know that he’s my stepbrother, but that’s exactly why I should spend time with him. He’s family, right? Maybe I was too harsh on him. I know all the Manhattan stories—who doesn’t—but do I really know him? No, and that’s because I haven’t given him a chance.

  But that’s going to change.

  I’m going to leave right now and head home.

  “John, I have to go. I enjoyed myself, but I must go home now,” I tell him, and he narrows his eyes slightly. This is going to be harder than I thought; I hope I don’t have to spell it out for him.

  “I can drive you home,” he responds after a few seconds of silence, but there’s no way I’m getting inside of a car with him, drunk or not.

  “No, that’s fine. Thank you, but --”

  “I said I can drive you home,” he lowers his voice, and I feel a cold shiver going up my spine. He doesn’t sound like your regular drunk asshole, but something worse than that. Sigh, I sure know how to pick the right guys to go out with.

  “And I said no.” I get up to my feet and reach for my purse, but he grabs me by the wrist. His fingers are curled tight, and he’s hurting me. But I don’t show it.

  “Stay,” his voice is almost a whisper now, and his words reach me at the same time as the smell of stale beer.

  “Get off me!” I tell him firmly, pushing my arm back and freeing my wrist from his hold. I might be a petite woman, but I won’t allow anyone to push me around like this. Push comes to shove, there’s nothing a kick in the balls won’t solve.

  I turn on my heels and storm out of the Elephant Bar, racing past the full tables of customers. No one saw, or heard, the fast exchange between John and I, so nobody really seems to care about the hurried way I leave the bar.

  It’s already dark outside, and I realize that I wasted more time than I should with that asshole. I could've been sunbathing with Cody by the pool, looking at his amazing—well, ahem, forget about that last part. Thing is, I could've been relaxing, but I came here and did the exact opposite.

  Not a good start for my stay in the Hamptons.

  I scan the parking lot, but there doesn’t seem to be a cab around. I take my cell phone out of my purse and start walking down the street, ready to call for an Uber if I don’t find a cab meanwhile.

  That’s when I start hearing heavy footsteps behind me. At first I don’t even register them, but when they start closing in on me I look back.

  And there he is.

  John is walking unsteadily toward me. There’s a cigarette cocked in the corner of his mouth, and his glazed eyes are focused on me.

  “What are you --” I start, but he grabs me by the arms and pushes me back against a parked car.

  “You’re a tease, aren’t you?” he whispers, placing one hand on my leg and sliding it up. The cigarette drops from his mouth to the floor, and I blink hard as the smoke clouds my eyes; still, I reach fast enough to stop him just before he slides his hand under my dress.

  “Stop it!” I cry out. “Are you crazy?” I try to push him back, but he’s grabbing me harshly. And he’s a big man, much bigger than I am.

  “I’m crazy… ‘Cuz you’ve made me crazy,” he slurs, trying to kiss my neck. His lips fall on my skin clumsily, and their touch is enough to make my stomach turn. I might just throw up all over his face.

  He’s going to rape me, he’s going to rape me, I think to myself hopelessly. There’s no way that I’ll be able to fight him off, especially when he’s drunk like this. I doubt that my kick-to-the-balls technique would work on him right now.

  And the parking lot is deserted.

  “STOP!” I shriek, but I know the music inside the bar is loud enough to prevent anyone from hearing me.

  He’s going to rape me, I think again, trembling. He’s going to rape me.

  And that’s when I hear the roar from a bike’s engine.

  77

  Cody

  I need a drink.

  That’s the sole thought echoing through my head as I walked out of the house. But when I got on my bike, the wind at my back, I started driving straight to the one bar I shouldn’t go to: the Elephant Bar.

  Kim’s there on a date, so why should I go there? I’ll just end up ruining her night. But I can’t stop myself.

  It’s already 7 pm, night has settled into the Hamptons, and I know nothing about her. And I need to see her, to talk to her.

  You know, just to make sure everything’s okay.

  As I see the brightly lit bar in the distance, it’s stark outline against the night sky, I realize I have no idea what I’m going to say to her. “Hey, there, ‘sis. Just came here to check out your date. He probably has a two-inch dick by the looks of it?” How does that sound?

  But whatever. I’ve never been the kind of guy to overthink things, and I sure as hell ain’t going to start now.

  I pull to the parking lot, looking for an empty space, and that’s when I see it.

  Kim’s back against the side of a car, a man kissing her neck.

  Fuck.

  I stop the bike some forty feet away from them, completely stunned. She’s making out with some guy in the parking lot, and my heart is racing like never before. Fuck, I’m almost ready to drive off when I realize that they’re not making out.

  She’s struggling. The man is pinning her down against the car, and he’s trying to grab and kiss her.

  I guess it’s time I introduce my fists to someone.

  I get off my bike, put it on its rest, and then take my helmet off. He lets go of Kim the moment he sees me getting off of the bike, and I can already tell by his swaying gait that he has more alcohol in his system than blood.

  I exchange a glance with Kim, and her expression is one of pure relief. Don’t worry, ‘sis, the cavalry is here.

  I walk straight toward the man, my lips a straight line of fury, and he wastes no time; he takes his hands to my chest and pushes me back. Security is nowhere in sight, so I guess I’ll have to be the one taking out the trash. He’s almost as tall as me, and he looks like he’s packing some serious muscle under his shirt. Perfect, a roided-out drunk asshole looking for a fight; my day’s going downhill fast.

  “Alright. You better get the fuck out of here,” I stare him down, trying to make him understand that I’m not fucking around. “Right now.”

  He squints his eyes at me, as if he’s truly seeing me for the first me.

  “Who the fuck do you think you a
re…?” he slurs, that drunk grin reappearing on his face. “You don’t tell me what to do, you fucking asshole!”

  I sigh, ready to put his neck in an arm-lock. I take one step forward but Kim jumps between us, arms outstretched.

  “Please…” she starts. “Let’s just get out of here, Cody, and --”

  And then the fucking bastard signs his death sentence. He raises his hand and slaps Kim hard, making her fall to the floor. “Stay out of the fucking way, bitch,” he hisses, a trickle of her blood on the back of his hand.

  All I see is red.

  One fast step forward and I bury my fist in his face, feeling the small bones in his nose shattering. He falls to the floor, clutching his face and kicking wildly with his legs, blood everywhere.

  Then he opens his eyes, a murderous look on his face, and takes one hand to his pockets.

  I notice something flashing in his hands as he gets up. Moving fast, he lunges at me and I manage to sidestep him, when he goes by me, failing his attack, I see the contour of a blade; I twist my whole body and grab him mid-lunge, one hand holding him by the back of his neck as the other holds his wrist tightly. I kick his shins hard, throwing him off balance, and push him to the ground. His face meets the floor with a sickening wet sound and he finally stays put.

  Feeling the adrenaline still pulsing in my veins, I stop and look at Kim. She seems shocked by the whole thing, and there’s a small cut on her lower lip; I rest my hand against her cheek, feeling her warm skin under my fingers.

  “Hey, you okay, ‘sis?” I whisper, her beautiful eyes sinking their hooks in me. She simply nods and I notice she’s shaking, her skin prickled. I take my jacket and place it over her shoulders. “It’s alright, I’m here.”

 

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