Backstage: A Fake Marriage Romance, page 34
I’m not one to brag much, but that was fucking exhilarating. A one-handed catch falling backward followed by fifty yards with everyone else scratching their dicks and chewing the dust. I do a celebratory forward flip and then slam the ball into the ground for good measure. That’s the first passing touchdown this game from either side and it both pushes me closer to a season record, and the score way out of the reach of this chumped up side. If CJ has just got his aim in, there’s enough time to put a few more on the board, based on the lazy way the Ravens are playing against us. In contrast, if we had Carter on this team instead of our woefully inconsistent quarterback, I’d already be celebrating a record score march. I’m not sure if I really want to mix pleasure and pleasure, but Carter and I make such a good team, we’d be unstoppable on the field and off it. It would make it way easier to hook up with Marissa after the game too, if we were both in the same location. I never see her without him, which I guess might change in the future, but right now it’s a ball ache if all I want to do is relax and get it wet and Carter’s on the other side of the country.
All that will come out in the wash, though, when we get this whole situation sorted and Marissa tells her dickhead parents, and Carter lets me go public with it. Until then, I guess we just have to wait and enjoy the moments we all have time to get together, which, to be fair, has been almost every day over the last two weeks.
Marissa, Carter and I have done stuff over that time I didn’t even know was possible. It makes me hard just thinking about it, and excited to the point of salivation dreaming up other possible scenarios in which way we can fuck. Marissa may have a complicated life, but that’s not going to stop any of us making sure what we have now continues for as long as possible. I’ve got my mind fixed on short term goals and long term love, and as precipitous or arrogant as it might sound now, I know my future self will thank me for having the confidence to admit it. I want Marissa permanently and will do everything in my power to make that happen, even if Carter has to come along for the ride. We can always turn him into our man servant or butler, I suppose. If there is anyone that looks like he knows his way around a kitchen it’s the Jets’ star player.
Failing that, he can always keep Marissa happy when I have to go away with my team. I guess I’ll allow him that luxury, as long as he keeps the house clean and gives me my fair share when I come back home. You’d think having two men at the same time would tire Marissa out, if anything, this princess is even more active for it. You’ve got to love that, right?
Chapter Eleven
Marissa
The clock is ticking and the countdown has begun. Five days, god knows how many hours until Mom and Dad come across on their private plane and demand to know why I haven’t let Elon put his chubby little hands on their daughter’s now no longer untouched body.
They’ll probably want to know why I haven’t arranged another date with him as well, what I’ve actually really been doing during the week they’ve given me to decide whether I want to spend the rest of my life with him or not, and how I’m going to behave in order to woo his equally off-putting replacement if my answer is a categoric no fucking way.
I have spoken to Elon, I suppose that’s something. The conversation went a bit like this:
Elon: Would you like to join me on (insert one of a number of different options here).
Me: Sorry Elon, I’m far too busy shaving my pussy for Carter and Logan.
And... repeat.
Alright, I obviously didn’t say I was shaving my pussy, but I am running out of excuses to see him. It wouldn’t surprise me if Elon gave up a lot earlier than the end of the week that my parents have probably agreed with him, citing irreconcilable differences and skulking off to find the next available eighteen-year-old member of a royal family.
I don’t care what he chooses to do, as long as it doesn’t involve me, although that doesn’t change my predicament, unfortunately. I know Mom and Dad well enough to know that if they say they are coming here, they mean it. Less than a week from now, I’ll have to come clean, which will essentially mark the end of one life and the beginning of another. In the unlikely event they accept my somewhat remarkable position and allow me to stay in the states to continue my three-way Mexican standoff relationship as Logan charmingly puts it, I’ll be the happiest princess alive. If not, nothing will change apart from the fact that, although still technically a princess, I’ll essentially be an orphan. Happy, but parentless.
Fuck it I think. The sooner my parents realize I have my own life and I’ve chosen how to lead it, the better. Carter and Logan couldn’t be behind me more with this, which arguably could have a negative effect on them as much as it does on me. This world is too fucking backward to even begin to comprehend that three people can be involved in a sexual relationship together and still be in love. I know you’re probably thinking exactly what they might think too, that I’m only eighteen, I’m naive and inexperienced, and how could it possibly be love so early on in the relationship, most of which we’ve spent locked in sexual combat, but the truth is, in my teenage, inexperienced view, love is not something static, that suddenly arrives one day and never changes throughout a relationship, it’s something dynamic, that grows and expands and develops in intensity, and it does so without a ceiling. What Logan, Carter and I have right now could be described as the beginning of the journey of love, a journey that doesn’t have an end. Others might call that lust, or infatuation or whatever, but in terms of emotions, anyone else trying to describe something entirely subjective turns the argument itself into something semantic. We all have different definitions of what love means to us, but from my perspective, this isn’t something throwaway, nor something I want to enjoy and then discard without further development.
There is so much potential between us, and that, combined with the intensity of what I feel right now, both physically and emotionally, means that what I know is possible later along the line, makes me squirm inside with delight.
I could go on and on about how much these two men mean to me, but I want to boil it down to one very simple sentence, just so you know exactly where I stand: I want them so much I need them.
I wonder if that will be enough to convince my parents, or whether I’ll have to get the flip chart out and start doing some diagrams. Now, if I were pregnant, that might be a different thing altogether-.
I’m joking. I’d look hot with a belly, but I’m not ready to have a baby just yet. Watching Carter and Logan decide who gets to impregnate me first would be funny, though. I guess I’d have to have two just to make it fair. A pair of football playing princes, or a pair of football loving princesses, or a mix and match of both. That would be enough to turn my dad’s hair white and maybe enough to get us kicked out of this country.
I rub my belly and pretend, imagining what it would be like. The ideal solution, of course, would be one of each inside me at the same time, but I don’t even think that’s scientifically possible. I suppose I could let them both come inside me at once and make the thing a race. Logan’s keen to try double penetration, and I’m certainly not against it either, but I don’t think my tight little pussy hole is big enough to accommodate them both at the moment. Taking them in both holes at once was hard enough, although every time we’ve done it since that first time truly has been absolutely amazing.
Turns out I love anal sex. Who would have thought it?
They don’t put that in the fairy tales, do they? At least not the ones my parents gave me to read.
Today is going to be fun, tomorrow too. Now that I’ve given Elon my shaving my pussy excuse I’m totally free to enjoy it with my boys. I don’t know whether he buys into the whole I’ve come down with a cold and I need to spend the weekend at home justification for my absence, but he doesn’t have much of a choice either, short of coming over here himself and demanding that I see him, and thankfully, Elon just doesn’t have big enough balls to do that.
If anyone is going to be knocking on this door it’ll be the staff members telling us to keep the noise down. Logan likes to scream when he comes, and I’m not the best at keeping myself quiet in a moment of orgasmic bliss either. Carter, by contrast, is measured and relatively silent when he lets go, and watching him stand there or lie there or balance there while his face goes red and his muscles are bulging trying to breathe in a weird controlled way, always makes Logan and I laugh. When he’s done pumping me full of his cum - and he always comes like a horse - he lets himself relax a little and chuckles along with the joke.
I’m horny just thinking about it. I always get a little horny in the bath, but the days when I know I’m going to be with Logan and Carter are just that little bit more special. So special, in fact, it takes a lot of effort not to make myself come, while I while away the time waiting for them to arrive to do the same. Sometimes I prefer it that way too, so I last longer when they are both here. Having two men to please sometimes means I have to keep myself going for twice as long. The other thing is that I get so sensitive in their company that dulling myself a little bit before by teasing myself quickly to orgasm helps to allow them to do everything they want to me, which usually involves Carter running through a huge list of dirty demands. I swear to God that even though he doesn’t look like it from a casual glance, he’s the dirtiest one of all three of us, and that’s really saying something when the other two are Logan and me.
I think this bath was designed to allow for easy masturbation with running water from the tap. I can lie down in such a way with my head against the tub and my legs swung over the edge or sit up in the corner instead and use the attached shower hose between my legs.
I’ve shaved my pussy again - I like to do it just before they come over - and even below the water it feels so soft and free of hair it’s sticky. I like not having anything in the way of my clitoris, pussy lips, pussy hole and button tight anus because it turns the sensitivity of my whole body up by something like a million percent, and Carter and Logan never complain either. There is something amazing about being so free and pure down there, that adds an additional element of taboo to our love making. It helps the sex too, the fucking as well, but it’s most important for the love-making.
Today I hook my legs over the edge of the bath and let the water from the tap fall around my sex. The shower head is great when I feel like a more direct spurt of water, but the tap offers a thicker stream and right now I want all over pressure. It doesn’t take long for me to feel the orgasm coming, and as I lay back, my head half submerged and my pussy held open by both hands to offer my clitoris up like a sacrifice to the god of tumbling water, I come hard and quickly, and can’t help but moan heavily, my tits breaking the water in waves as my lungs fill and empty with short breaths.
As the blood rising to the surface of my skin to make contact with the warm water turning my chest a hue of pink, the world goes warm and fuzzy and melts slightly around the edges of my vision.
I love making myself come, especially like this. Carter and Logan like watching me too, and when they arrive I’ll confess like a naughty girl and tease them with the anecdote, while I tease them out of their clothes. Carter can punish me while Logan ties me up, and then the two men can take turns making sure I’ve got the message to wait for them next time, while I beg them to stop and secretly hope they never will.
Five days and a handful of hours to make the most of the secret freedom we’ve developed for ourselves. After that, it’s public and the whole world will be on our doorstep fighting for the story.
When the knock on the door comes I’m deep in post orgasmic thought about our future and it scares me a little. Neither of these two are due for another hour or so, but it wouldn’t surprise me to see them try and catch me in my pre-date bath time ritual, or try and catch some alone time with me before the other shows up.
I skip to it and jump out of the bath, excited to see who’s made it here in record time, silently hoping it’ll be both of them.
“I’m coming”, I call as I pull on a bathrobe, the phrase true in both of its senses, and when I get to the door my pussy is tingling even more than it was already. I always get a buzz of nervous excitement in these moments, and today is no different.
I pull the door open in an excited flash, only for the blood to drain from my entire body when I see who’s actually standing there.
Chapter Twelve
Marissa
If there is one thing that’ll cut through horniness like obsidian through hot butter it’s seeing your parents stand outside your hotel room door with faces like thunder, when you expect to see the two men you’ve made an appointment for a dirty weekend with instead. Talk about going from tingly warm fuzzy feeling to stone cold fear in the same time it takes for a lightbulb to turn on.
This is not the week they promised me. This is seriously underhand even for them.
“Get your things”, Dad says, barging past me and into the room. “We’re leaving now.”
“Dad?” I question. “Mom”, I try as she gives me a well-practiced we are so fucking disappointed in you look as she follows in Dad’s wake. Actually, it’s more like the we wish you were more like your sisters look, which is the one she reserves for special occasions like this.
“I was just getting ready to go out with Elon”, I attempt. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Playing innocent is unlikely to curry favor, but it’s all I’ve got right now. Dad sees through it like a piece of clingfilm.
“We’re not stupid, Marissa. Your little game is over. Get your things ready now.”
What the fuck has Elon said to them? “Did Elon put you up to this?” I ask casually, still pretending not to get it. “I don’t understand.”
“Elon called us”, Mom says, taking over where Dad can’t bring himself to say the words. “We know what you’ve been up to.”
Up to? I wonder. Like giving him the cold shoulder, self-style brush off? Or worse than that?
“Up to?” I dare to ask.
Dad paces back and forth, his tight leather shoes making clipping sounds on the wooden floor. “Go and get dressed”, he says, his hand in the air to point towards the room he must think is the bedroom.
“Not until you tell me what this is about”, I say, my arms folding across my chest defiantly.
“Don’t”, Mom warns.
“Seriously”, I try again. “I have a date with Elon later today. I was going to cancel because I wasn’t feeling well, but after the bath, I feel much better. I was about to call him to arrange.”
“Lies”, Dad says sharply, before his eyes meet mine. “You really want to do this?” he says challengingly.
“Do what?” I say, spreading my arms passively. “I thought you trusted me.”
Dad’s eyes go to Mom’s, Mom’s drop to the floor.
“Two men”, Dad says, even the words making him screw up his mouth in disgust. “At once.”
I can’t help but laugh nervously. I mean, how the fuck do they know, number one? Number two, something about hearing my dad say it triggers that spontaneous reaction in me. He goes on. “You’ve ridiculed Elon and you’ve brought disgrace to the family. You are no daughter of mine.”
“Is that what you came here to tell me?” I ask.
No point in denying it now. I sort of half expected this anyway, considering part of what Elon does for his work is dig up information on people, so I can’t say I’m all that surprised. I know it can’t have been anyone else because Logan, Carter and I have always been extremely careful of where we meet and where we fuck. Elon must have had me followed or hacked my phone or any number of other unconscionable things to find out why I didn’t want to fuck him. I guess calling raincheck this weekend on his proposed museum visit was the last straw.
“Clothes, now”, Dad commands, “The plane is waiting.”
“And what about my search for a husband?” I say insouciantly.
“Don’t push it”, Dad says. “That’s the least of your worries right now.”
It’s clear I’m not moving. It’s even clearer I don’t intend to either, because of the way I’ve wrapped my arms around my chest and sat down. I’m going to have a tantrum like a true princess and there is nothing my parents can do to stop me.
“I’m not coming”, I say, my eyes going from one parent to the other.
Logan would love this, it’s a true Mexican standoff.
“Don’t”, Dad warns, his hand raised. “It’s not up for discussion. The plane is leaving in one hour and we are getting on it, whether you like it or not.”
I shake my head. This is the turning point I foresaw, the time where my life splits into two different directions and I get to choose one path and one path only. I wish for all the world Carter and Logan were here, I wish my parents weren’t such douchebags either.
“I’m in love”, I say, and it’s something so unexpected that for a moment there is a weird silence in the room between us before Dad erupts in thunderous laughter.
“Love?” he questions, when he’s finally calmed down. “What do you know about love?”
With stormy eyes narrowed into little black marbles of hate, he glares at me challengingly.
“I know that it doesn’t mean forcing someone to see the world in the way you want them to.”
Again there’s that raucous laugh, but I’m not going to let it put me off. “And I know it’s the best thing I’ve ever experienced.”
