Offense & Defense

By: Alexis Angel

A MMF Sports Romance



“Oh baby,” Monica moans as she looks back at me as the streets of Dallas zip past us. “You’re fucking me so good.”

I just grunt and slap her ass. She groans lewdly.

I look over to the driver for a second.

Good, I think with some relief. The divider in the limo is sealed off and the driver can’t hear her. She’s moaning like a whore and I fucking love it.

“You like that?” I ask with a nasty sneer of pride.

My 12-inch cock is sliding in and out of her, making a wet sucking noise as it ravages her pussy. Her pussy’s far from tight. But then again, I could fucking tell she was a dirty slut when she came up to me after the game.

“Hey baby,” she said to me, wearing a Dallas Devils jersey that was two sizes too small and a pair of skinny jeans that showed off the whale-tail of her thong. “My boyfriend’s gone home from the game early and taken the car. Mind giving me a lift back into the city?”

Ten minutes later, her clothes were scattered through the interior of the limo as the car made its way back to the city.

“Oh yeah, fuck me harder, baby,” Monica groans and as she does I speed up my strokes. I grab both of her ass cheeks and scoot closer. The natural bumping of the car as it goes down the highway adds the extra friction to the fuck. It stimulates my cock like nothing else.

“Fuck,” she says as I reach over and roughly grab her tit. I fucking love groupies. They don’t want any commitments. They don’t want to try and rescue you. Don’t want you to be a nice guy. They don't want anything more than a nasty fuck.

We’ve been fucking for a bit and my goal is to cum by the time we hit the city. I speed up my thrusts and really start nailing her, holding her by her dark hair, and pulling it back roughly.

She goes insane as her orgasm rips through her. Like a woman possessed by a demon, she starts bucking like a bronco. Her face falls into the seat and while she was on all fours before, now her legs are just jutting her ass out at me.

Just watching her pass out from cumming is enough for me. Her slut body has declared me the winner in this game of fuck. I’m the fucking king. I run my hands down her body and feel my balls tingling.

“I’m going to cum,” I growl, but Monica is already in the throes of another orgasm and an aftershock of an orgasm all cascading into one. She can’t even hear me, she's so far up in orbit.

My balls tighten up and I feel the familiar electric seizures go through my body. My eyes roll up in my head and I can feel my cock convulse. Five seconds. Four. Three. Two.


I shoot out rope after rope of thick gooey cum into the condom that’s sheathing my cock.

“Aargh,” I growl, and speed up my strokes, brushing the underside of my fucking cock against her swollen lips, sending shivers up and down my shaft up and up my spine. My body shivers and I open my eyes and exhale.

Fuck, that was just what I fucking needed to unwind. A willing slut to bend over and take my cock. A pussy to pound after a 32 - 12 win over the Toronto Trojans is just what the doctor ordered.

I pull my cock out and take off my condom. Monica rolls over onto her back, her legs still spread wide open. This bitch has no fucking shame at all. She looks at my condom full of cum and her eyes go wide.

“Jesus, Colt,” she says. “You cum so much! Is that all for me?”

I look over at her and shrug. Her eyes are glinting, thinking her body got me off so good and she’s a special snowflake. Truth is, I usually cum more. I cum in fucking quarts. My body is a fucking machine. No, it’s a fucking temple. A temple to sex. As the starting quarterback for the Dallas Devils and the best quarterback in the entire Nationwide Football League, it better be too - I didn’t play football from the age of eight to not have a fucking cut, ripped physique that Apollo would envy. To have a chiseled face and sculpted jaw that make mothers swoon even after they find out I nailed their daughters. A powerful frame with so much testosterone that fathers look up to me even after I’ve defiled their daughters. But so much testosterone has some side effects. And they’re all fucking good. Consequence number one - I have testicles the size of tennis balls and a 12-inch fucking monster cock. That’s fucking right. One foot of pussy pleasing power.

Consequence number two? I like to fuck. All the fucking time. All women. All shapes. All sizes. I’d fuck you if you wanted, too. I’d fucking eat you out until you fucking screamed so loud that only the birds would be able to hear you. But I wouldn’t be done yet. Then I’d use my fingers and stroke your fucking G-spot and make you squeal. You’d be begging for mercy by the time you came. And then and only then, after a two-orgasm appetizer would I stick my fucking cock into your pussy.

And you would be fucking ruined for other men, baby.

Trust me.

I grab Monica’s thong and use it to wipe my cock clean. It’s all gooey when I’m done and Monica looks at me in shock. Fuck, she’s not going to want to wear this.

I shrug and open the window to the limo and wrap the thong around the condom, creating a bullet and chuck it out with force. Probably should have put it in a bag or something because I see it splatter over the windshield of a police car. Whatever. They got some of Colt Stackford’s cum on their windshield. They could scrape it off and sell it on eBay, that shit is so fucking valuable.

But there must have been someone in the car because the police car opens on the driver’s side as the limo turns the corner. The last thing I see looking out the window is a uniformed police officer picking up the condom that’s now leaking cum and splattered on his windshield and looking my way as he makes a face. I laugh.

Too bad we’ve turned the corner. Oh yeah, and too bad I’m fucking untouchable.

“Stop the car,” I tell the driver, putting on my boxer briefs and jeans.

“Where are you going?” Monica asks me as I put on my clothes. She’s still naked.

I look at her. “It’s not me, babe,” I say, using the same lines as with every other woman who’s been to the back of the limo before her. “I gotta go, and I can’t have you come with me.”

She looks at me and realizes this is where she gets off.


Don’t look at me like that. I’m not putting her in danger. The subway is right there. The bus too. It’s a nice part of town.

“Okay,” she says hesitantly. I watch her put on her clothes and I make sure she does it fast because all of a sudden I see the cum-car cop rounding the corner and begin walking towards the limo.

“I only got a minute, babe,” I tell her. “And then you got to get out, no matter what you’re wearing.”

Not wanting to be naked on the street, she puts as much of her jeans as possible and slips her jersey back on. She can’t find her bra, but I don’t offer to help her.

“Call me, okay?” she says as she leans for the kiss and I instead move and open the door on my side for her, moving away with the agility of a cat and using her momentum to propel her outside.

“You got it, Monica,” I say smoothly, giving her my million-dollar smile.

“Mona,” she says. “My name is Mona and do you even have my number?”

But I can’t hear her. My door’s closed and I’m drinking some 200-year-old scotch as the car starts up again speeding towards the SportsNation studios. Alcohol. That’s what the doctor ordered after you fuck a slut.

The last thing I see is cum-car cop running up to Monica/Mona. But the limo has already left them in the dust.

Oh well.

I walk through the SportsNation studio with my bottle of scotch. I don’t fucking care as people stop to stare at me. I’m Colt Stackford, QB1 of the Dallas fucking Devils. We’ve had an undefeated first 3 games and today we crushed the Toronto Trojans like a foot crushes a bug.

I walk up to where they’re going to be filming me and pause as a hair and makeup person touches up my face. Some tiny Indian chick. Yeah, I’d fuck her too, although it looks like she has a mustache. But she doesn’t spend much time on me - most likely because I’m already fucking handsome. With my sculpted jaw, broad fucking shoulders, and made for GQ face.

“You ready?” the host, Jessica McSwain asks me as I sit down. I nod. “You can’t have the bottle, Colt,” she says arching her eyebrows.

I shrug and put it down on the floor underneath the table. Camera’s won’t pick it up.

Jessica fucking McSwain. Now there is a hot piece of ass that I’d tap if given half the chance. But she’s already married and if that’s one thing I won’t do, it’s break up a happy marriage. Broken or sad marriage? Fuck yeah. Happy marriage? No.

The lights dim and then come back on and in less than a minute we’re live.

“Hello, and welcome to SportsNation Highlights,” Jessica starts, talking into the camera. “I’m joined by a few guests tonight as we recap this epic day in sports history. Let’s go to my first guest – the starting Quarterback for the Dallas Devils - Colt Stackford.”

I can see the camera swing to me as I say hello.

“Colt,” Jessica says addressing me in a professional manner. “Super job today on the field. Absolutely outstanding and thanks for being here.”

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