“Jason’s in Omaha?” I say.
She nods. “He’s Jason Marx.”
I stare at her blankly.
“He plays for the Mammoths.”
“Never heard of him,” I say. I glance at Cody; his face is blank too.
“He’s played for the Mammoths for two years. He’s second string, though.”
“Yeah, never heard of him,” I repeat. “Why is this asswipe making you cry?”
Megan stares at me for a moment, as if thinking about her options. She looks to Cody, then back to me, and she sighs. “We were engaged. We lived together, and we were going to be married in the spring.”
I get up and pace around while she talks, my hands making fists. If this asshole were here, I’d give him more than just a piece of my mind.
“He cheated on me. That’s all. End of story,” she says.
What a dick. I understand liking pussy and not being able to get enough of it. But if you’re going to make a commitment to a woman, man the fuck up and don’t make her cry.
“And why does he keep calling you?” Cody asks.
Megan looks over her shoulder toward her clothing, still in a pile on the floor. My brother’s got his arm around her, keeping her warm, smoothing her hair. She lifts one shoulder in a somber half-shrug. “I left him. He wants me to come back.”
Some choice words are about to roll off my tongue when I hear her goddamn phone buzzing again.
“Leave it,” Megan says, as I move toward it. But what fun would that be? I check the readout, then take the call.
“Listen, asshole,” I say. I hear an inhale on the other end, then silence. “Megan can’t take your call right now. She’s busy trying to take all ten of my hard inches. We’re going nice and slow. Her pussy must have shrunk, trying to get pleasure from your little dick, but we’re going to make up for what she’s been missing. All night long.”
I’m about to click off when the jerk starts sputtering on the other end. He sounds drunk, or like he’s been crying. Pathetic. “Who is this?” he finally says.
“This is Brock Easton, you assface. I’m going to fuck your fiancée all night long, and then we’re going to beat your team on the field next week. But you’ll probably just be watching it all from the sidelines.”
I end the call before I have to hear his whining. Megan is looking at me with a stunned expression, but when I smirk at her, she dissolves into laughter. “Oh my god. You did not just do that!”
Cody’s grinning at both of us.
“C’mon, we’ll take you home,” I say. “You need rest, and since you snuck out of your window to meet us, I’m assuming you don’t want to spend the night here and have to explain it to your dad.”
She rolls her eyes but smiles. “No, I’d rather avoid that.”
While Megan gets dressed, I find Jason’s number in her contacts. “I blocked Mr. Micro Dick,” I say when I hand her the phone. “He can’t call you anymore.”
“Thank you,” she says, her voice thick with relief. “You’re crazy, you know that? But Jason deserved that.” She smiles up at me, and I feel a certain kind of pride at having moved her from tears to laughter so quickly.
“And you were right,” she says. “He does have a small dick.” She laughs again, and her eyes flicker downward. I know she’s wondering exactly how I compare. She’ll find out soon ... just not tonight.
Cody and I don’t make commitments to women. That way we don’t hurt them and we don’t take advantage of them. Megan will be back for more, but I want it to be on her terms, not while she’s exhausted and vulnerable.
We’re Not Done With You
Megan
Embarrassment and gratitude fight for the top spot among my emotional responses. These two men have shown me so much pleasure today. They don't even know me and they've been there when I needed them.
They've given me multiple orgasms of a previously unknown intensity, and how did I repay them? I broke down in tears when I should've been tearing their clothes off.
I'm not a crier. It's not something I do often, but today put me to the test. I think the tears came more easily after the amazing sensations Brock and Cody triggered in me. They set something free, and unfortunately that release manifested in tears.
That won't happen again.
Brock drives on the return trip while Cody holds me close. It's interesting how their physical appearances are nearly indistinguishable from one another, but their behavior is so different. Cody is like a cuddly teddy bear, and Brock is a grizzly, but they both make me feel safe and desired.
While I was driving from Omaha to my dad’s, I vowed I wouldn’t get involved with a football player again. Though I love the game, and it’s in my blood, the players don’t seem to make good partner material.
I thought I had a good one in Jason. I heard about other players — his friends — cheating on their girlfriends and wives, and I used to be grateful that I had Jason. I was so stupid.
Ballers can be amazingly hot, so sexy in their uniforms with those deliciously tight pants … but there are plenty of other men out in the world. I can be a football fan, and not be involved with a player.
That’s what I told myself. But here I am, sitting between two of them, and if I’m not careful I could get hurt again.
I know better. All I need is a good night’s sleep and I’ll see things more clearly. Brock and Cody have been exactly what I needed today to put Jason behind me and make me feel like a desirable woman again. I’ve had my fun with them, and that’s all it has to be. All it can be.
But they’ve given me multiple orgasms, and I’ve given them none. As Brock is about to turn the corner onto my dad’s street, I realize I still have time to even the score. “Stop here,” I say.
“We’ll let you out at your driveway. I’m sure your dad’s asleep by now,” Brock says.
“No,” I say, reaching one hand out to each of them, feeling for their zippers. “I want to repay you.”
Brock stops the truck and takes my hand in his, halting my progress. “I appreciate that,” he says. “But this isn’t the time or place.”
Embarrassed, I shrink back. I’m acting like a horny drunk girl, even though I’ve only had a few sips of beer. I want to push my way out of the truck, but Brock is holding my hand and Cody still has his arm around me.