Claiming His Virgin In the Ring

by Cassandra Dee

  And suddenly, I spotted Marie. A rush came over me seeing that curvy form, the wavy brown hair. It was weird. We travel a lot for my job, and it’d never bothered me before, having no one. Made things easier actually, I had no responsibilities, no obligations, the only thing I had to do was get myself from one place to another, make sure my form was in tip top shape.

  But unexpectedly, seeing the brunette changed things. There was a feeling that yeah, maybe I’d like to see her after my games, I’d like to have soft arms around me, a warm body in my bed. And not just any warm body, but one I adored, one that welcomed me, curvy, delicious, not some strange pussy that I’d picked up for the night.

  So I shook the head ruefully. What the fuck was going on? This was my best friend’s mom for crying out loud, someone who I’d known for a couple days. And in another couple days, I’d be gone again, nothing but a memory, a hot memory, sure, but a memory nonetheless. Disgusted, I shook my head. Fuck, I was losing it, really losing my shit on this trip, but this was no time to let on. Pasting a smile on my face, I walked up to the brunette.

  “Hey,” I said, smiling at her. “What’s going on?”

  And Marie turned to me, a smile on her lips, but her nostrils flared slightly, there was a nervous edge to her voice.

  “Victor here was just telling me that he owns the team,” she said lightly, trying to seem casual and fun. “Isn’t that a coincidence? Who knew!” she said with a tremulous shake to her voice despite the fact that her lips were twisted upwards.

  And I swung around to look at the man talking to her. Oh yeah, just like the first time at the bar, this dude was old and then some. He had to be at least seventy, with snow white hair, stooped a little, wearing designer jeans and a fancy puffer jacket, the kind that cost eight hundred bucks.

  “Yeah, I own the Chargers,” he croaked, his features creased, like he’d slept on his face. “This here’s my team, I’m not a part owner, I own this club one hundred percent,” he bragged.

  I tried not to show my disgust. Once an asshole, always an asshole, even when you were seventy. But I didn’t want to be rude to a senior citizen, so I merely smiled neutrally.

  “Well congrats, this must be a great night for you cause the Chargers are up by ten,” I rumbled.

  “Yeah, and I pay a ten thousand dollar bonus to whichever player scores the most each game,” he chortled, wheezing and huffing a bit. “So long as they win,” he added. “Nothing if they lose.”

  My expression remained neutral, but inside I was disgusted. Really? This dude was all about money. In addition to casually “dropping” that he owned the team, he was also flagrantly discussing money now, openly mentioning his cash, how much he paid, who was gonna get it, and who was shit up the creek. It was baldly transactional, but I manned up. After all, sports is a business, money makes it go round just like any other business. I just didn’t like the way this dude was so mercenary and out in the open about it.

  “Well, it’s nice to meet you,” I said casually, taking Marie’s elbow. “Come on, we got you that beer, Robbie’s waiting,” I rumbled.

  “Oh thanks,” she said, shooting me a grateful glance, glad to have an excuse to leave. “Thanks, Trent, yeah, let’s get back to our seats.”

  But it was then that this Vincent dude pulled out all the stops. Or more accurately, he went way overboard.

  “Hold on a minute!” he wheezed, one gnarled hand reaching out to grab Marie’s other elbow. “I’ve got box seats up above, why don’t you come and sit with me, little lady?”

  The brunette shot a horrified look my way before turning back politely, trying to pull her arm away discreetly.

  “Oh no, Mr. Vincent, I couldn’t. I’m here with my son and his friend, it would be rude, I can’t leave them.”

  “No it wouldn’t be rude!” Vincent’s voice rang out loudly, authoritatively, almost crackling. “Leave those boys be. When you got a rich dude like me, you gotta hang on for dear life, girlie,” he cackled, leaning towards Marie like he was telling her a secret. “Trust me, you’re no spring chicken, you’re over the hill and a man like me is good news for a woman like you.”

  I was pissed then, absolutely fucking pissed. Had this dude just said that Marie was over the hill? That she was some kind of old hag that no one wanted? I stepped in then, forcefully yanking his hand off her arm, even pushing the senior away a bit, making totter unsteadily and let out a small scream. No one had probably touched him for years, too afraid of his money, but I didn’t give a shit. No one insulted my woman liked that, she was mine and worth much more than any money could buy.

  “Back off,” I snarled. “Back the fuck off.”

  But Vincent cackled like a hyena.

  “You gonna let some young buck stand in your way?” he wheezed. “Serious, you gonna let some young, broke guy stand in your way when you could have me, a gazillionaire? Come on, pretty lady, a woman needs to count her blessings and frankly, the older the better, right?” he leered. “No need to smell the flowers, time’s a ticking, there ain’t too many opportunities for you anymore.”

  And I fucking lost it then. This fucker was so unbelievable, insulting Marie, insulting me by intimating that I was some young stud with nothing to offer, just some promises and an empty bank account. He was so fucking rude too, telling Marie that he was her best option since she was over the hill, even though this shithead had liver spots on his hands, his neck, his wattle like a rooster, teeth decayed and yellow, breath stinking to high heaven.

  “Get the fuck away,” I grunted. But I didn’t physically attack him, I can’t do that to a seventy year-old doddering fool, even if he was a slobbering idiot, it’s just not in my DNA. Instead, I nodded to the ground.

  “By the way, your money clip fell. It’s right there,” I grunted, pointing with my shoe. And sure enough, there was a fat roll of cash clipped with the ugliest gold metal thing, a huge, gaudy red stone flashing from the center.

  “Oh!” squeaked the old man. “Someone get it for me! It’s rolling away!”

  Because he was leaning forwards unsteadily, trying to grab his money, but it was a shaky situation. Oh yeah, this guy wasn’t good on his feet, probably had inner ear problems from being so old and was reaching out with a trembling hand, looking like he was going to tip over any second.

  The gentleman in me, the nice guy, would have helped him, would have retrieved the money and given it back to the old man in two seconds. But fuck, he deserved it. This Vincent dude was a dipshit and then some, let him fall over trying to get to his money, it was obviously the most important thing in life to him.

  So seizing Marie’s elbow once more, I pulled her away, the old man not even looking up as we left, his eyes fixated on the wad of cash, so near and yet so far.

  “Bye Vincey,” I rumbled, pulling at my best girl’s elbow, creating more distance by the second. “Have fun with your cold hard cash, hope it keeps you warm at night.” The words made no difference. Vincent didn’t even hear, he was too busy trying to retrieve his pot of gold, eyes still fixated on the ground, one scrawny, wobbly arm reaching out.

  “Help, help!” he squeaked to anyone who could hear. “My money!”

  But there was no one around, we were in a lightly trafficked area, the nearest concession stand was some fifty feet away. Well, no worries, someone would wander by soon enough and either pick up the money, or even better, ignore him and let him suffer. Serves Vincent right, what an asshole. But as I walked Marie back to our seats, she was oddly quiet.

  “You okay?” I asked her. “That was shit, I’m so sorry that happened.”

  She nodded silently, those brown curls bouncing. But I could tell she wasn’t alright, that the old jerk’s word had stung.

  “Hey, don’t listen to anything that guy said, it doesn’t matter okay?” I said seriously, pulling her to a stop and looking into those deep brown eyes. “Ignore it, okay? He’s just riffraff, it was totally random.”

  The brunette nodded her head, biting her lip,
but it wasn’t enough.

  “It’s nothing,” she said, a little too loudly, clearing her throat. “It’s nothing,” she said, trying again, a small smile edging her lips. “I guess, you know, I’ve never really thought I was … old,” she hesitated a little on the word. “But this guy made me feel really ancient.”

  And I stopped walking completely, pulling her around to face me.

  “Marie, you’re not old,” I said forcefully. “You’re perfect, you’re a woman, it’s life.”

  She shot me a wobbly smile.

  “I know,” she replied softly, “it’s just that I’ve never heard it so clearly. I know I’m almost forty, but that dude threw it in my face, like it was a huge liability.”

  And I snorted then.

  “Who cares? That geezer was seventy if he was a day, and he’s got an evil mouth, he thinks his money lets him get away with anything. What he said wasn’t true,” I continued forcefully, “you’re not old, you’re perfect, you’re amazing, I adore you.”

  And I stopped short myself then. Had I just said “adore”? Oh shit, that was weird. But even as the word left my mouth, I knew it was true. Because in my own way, I adored this woman, absolutely worshipped her, was putty in her hands, in her arms at night.

  And although Marie smiled gently at me then, her eyes were still a little sad.

  “I know, Trent, I know,” she said softly. “But there was truth in his words, and that’s why they stung. I am old, I’m older than you, a lot older in fact. You’re my son’s best friend, we’re not exactly peers,” she said with a wry smile.

  And my hand on her arm grew tighter then because I had to make her see, had to make her realize that I didn’t give a fuck, that the world didn’t give a fuck. When you find someone who’s right, it’s a miracle no matter what. So I looked her straight in the eye and told her my truth.

  “Marie, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, and the sex between us is crazy good,” I rumbled in a low voice. “The best I’ve ever had in fact, and I’ve had a lot.” It was the most I could offer at the moment, I didn’t know how to disentangle the feelings knotted in my chest, couldn’t figure them out myself even. So I went back to what was absolutely good for us, what we knew worked like clockwork. The physical.

  The brunette smiled at me slowly, a real smile, brown eyes growing warm, her hand lightly tracing my cheek, moving to caress my jaw.

  “I know, Trent, it’s the best I’ve ever had too,” she confessed, cheeks slightly pink. “But maybe it’s good that this is just a one-week thing, because you belong with someone else. Someone, I dunno, younger, fresher, closer to your age. I’m someone’s mom already. Maybe this way it’s for the better, this way we’ll both move on easier, forget each other that much sooner.”

  My heart pounded painfully hearing those words, a loud rushing sound in my ears, deafening, like the world was crashing in. Because I understood what she was saying, and why she was saying it. We’d never made any promises, hell, even the one-week thing had been pure coincidence, we’d started as a bar hook-up of all things. But somehow, hearing the words, out in the open, no bullshit-style, really fucking hurt, making my jaw ache. Because I’d been living in wonderland as well and hearing the bald truth fucking sucked. So I took a deep breath, eyes serious.

  “Listen, this is so complicated, and let’s just leave it for now, okay?” I ground out even as my heart ached, my lungs literally having trouble inflating. “There’s no sense in getting into it here, at Arcade Arena, with a basketball game to watch, Robbie waiting for us, and god knows who else in the crowds,” I rumbled. “So let’s just have fun, okay?”

  And Marie’s mouth quirked even if her eyes remained sad.

  “Of course Trent, let’s have fun,” the brunette said, with a forced air of cheer. “Come on, Robbie must think the earth’s swallowed us by now,” she teased, turning to head up the stairs to our seats.

  And I watched, a lump in my throat, as that juicy ass swayed in her tight jeans, taking the steps one by one, moving in front of me and away. Because yeah, our relationship wasn’t traditional, this wasn’t how things usually happened. But that’s the thing. Is there a “usual” way anymore? Is there really “normal” anymore? I mean, on-line dating didn’t even exist ten years ago, and now swiping left and right is what everyone does. Plus, there were so many older woman / younger man celebrity couples, so why did we have to fight the current? Why did we have to swim upstream?

  But I forced myself to follow her, my steps heavy, my heart even heavier. Because for some reason, it mattered to Marie, and because it mattered to her, it mattered to me too. And I only hoped that after this week, I’d get out alive because I was losing my heart to the brunette … with absolutely no hope of getting it back.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Marie

  The front door swung shut and Robbie was up the stairs in a sec.

  “Yo, I’m first in the shower,” he yelled, disappearing up to his room. “You guys go ahead and start dinner.”

  I turned to look at Trent, sighing. But when my eyes met his, I gasped, the air tight in my throat, breasts rising, nipples growing tight, pussy wet. Because he was staring at me. The huge man’s blue eyes blazed, taking in everything, running over my form hungrily, desperate even, devouring every square inch he could see.

  “What is it Trent?” I breathed, one hand against the counter, suddenly feeling lightheaded, so warm and wanted under his gaze. “You okay?”

  The alpha didn’t say anything for a second, merely taking me in, our first moment of privacy since the raucous cheering of the game, the throngs of people on all sides. His eyes grew dark for a moment, deepening to an almost black, and then he was on me, drawing me in for a swift kiss, arms like steel bands around me, holding me close as he plundered my mouth.

  And I gave in. The events of the ball game had been shattering. Because yeah, the encounter with Vincent had been terrible. Even though he was a stranger, the nasty old man had reminded us of reality, which was that I was old, and Trent was young. The alpha was twenty to my forty for crying out loud, literally half my age. And what the hell, even if the age thing was okay, he traveled all the time, it was the nature of his job. Where was this going? Nowhere. That was the answer, and my heart broke hearing the words out in the open.

  And it affected Trent too because he was on me now, his mouth hard, hot and fast, his hands roaming over my body, needy, possessive, desperate to touch my curves, burrow into my warmth. But we couldn’t. We were in the kitchen, bright lights on, Robbie finishing his shower even now, we could hear the creak of the spigot as he turned it off.

  “No Trent, we’ll talk later,” I breathed, giving him one last kiss before pulling away. “Later,” I promised.

  And those blue eyes were so hungry, so hot, that for a moment, I didn’t think he’d wait. His big form was so aroused, so virile, that I thought he might throw caution to the heavens and ravage me right there, our secret be damned.

  But he got a hold of himself and pulled away, breathing heavily, that massive chest rising and falling.

  “Later tonight, Marie,” he promised, eyes gleaming. “We’ll talk later tonight.”

  And I nodded silently, willing the lump in my throat to go away. Of course, later. We’d get to everything later. But there was no later, because there was no talk in the dark depths of my bedroom at midnight. No, when Trent came up, I was too desperate, we were both too hungry to do anything like talking. He was on me in a moment, ravaging my form, both of us nude, my pussy wet, his dick hard, going at it like we were never going to see each other again.

  Because time really was running out. He had only a few more days before Spring Training resumed again, the breakneck pace of pro sports, and Trent would be leaving, disappeared god knows where, doing his thing. And so I loved him as best I could, giving him absolutely everything, holding nothing back during our love.

  “Oh!” I squealed, ass perched in the air, cheek pressed against the mattre
ss, big boobs dragging against the coverlet, my nipples so hard they practically left dents. “Oh oh!”

  And Trent grinned. As usual, the inseminator was on the bedside table, he was careful never to come in me, to make sure I orgasmed with the dildo in deep. But Trent has his ways, and at the moment, he was tasting my dark star, touching the tip of his tongue to my anus, tracing the pleats as they contracted reflexively, winking.

  “Honey, you’re beautiful,” he rasped, breath hot against my butt cheeks. “You ready for some anal?”

  And I flushed, breasts feeling heavy with delight and anticipation. Because yes, I loved anal now. Trent’s opened a whole new world for me, I never thought of myself as an ass girl, but now I absolutely love feeling him in back, his lips, his fingers, his tongue up my rear end. And he never makes me feel dirty or disgusting, breaking through every barrier, shattering my inhibitions.

  “That’s right,” he leaned forward once more, tonguing my dark hole once more, “You ready for Daddy’s dick back here?”

  And like the slut I am, I moaned throatily, wiggling my hips slightly, spreading my legs to welcome him, to take him deep in my private part.

  But Trent wanted more than that. Spitting suddenly, he smoothed the saliva into my anus, and I shivered, feeling it seep into my hole, warm and wet, the perfect lube.

  “Yes Daddy,” I panted, craning my head around to look at him over a shoulder. “Yes, put it in now.”

  Trent just chuckled deep in his throat, but instead of lining his dick up, instead he flipped me around so I was on my back, big boobies pointed to the ceiling, soft white flesh spread everywhere. And he looked at me then, taking his fill, loving the hills and valleys, the fact that I was creamy, giving, warm and wet. And with a satisfied grunt, he took my knees in his hands and pushed them towards my chest, up and apart so that my pussy was open, bare and beautiful, pulsing wetly.