Games

My eyes flew open, taking in the dim gray morning. It wasn't the pale light that woke me, but the wet mouth currently attached to my left nipple. I let out a low moan of pure pleasure, and he lifted his head to grin at me. "Morning, babe."

"Oh, yeah, it's looking like it's gonna be a good day," I said, smiling. He moved lower down my body, trailing kisses along the way, looking up at me when he reached my thong. A frown marred his handsome, square jaw and made his blue eyes narrow.

"What is this?" he demanded, and I inhaled sharply. "What did I tell you about underwear?"

I couldn't speak. He slid a finger under the waistband, lifted it, and let it snap back onto my skin. Refusing to cry out, I bit my lip. He smiled with a twinkle in his eye. "I guess I'll just have to make you remember, huh?"

With that, he ripped them off me and roughly thrust a finger inside me. It slid home smoothly since I was already dripping wet. I almost purred, but didn't want to give him the satisfaction. Unwittingly, my hips started undulating to match the rhythm of his fingers. He brought me to the brink of climax, and stopped. I almost cried out, but I wouldn't give in to him. Pulling his fingers out of me, he brought his hand up to my mouth. I shook my head, but he dragged his fingers across my lips, and he knew he had me. I cleaned off his fingers and he smiled, pleased.

Reaching down, he slowly stroked his steely cock, making me ache to have it in me. He bent down to kiss me harshly, his hand curving around the nape of my neck. As he pulled back, his grip on my nape tightened and he pulled me to a sitting position. I knew instantly what he wanted, and as he moved to lie down, I got on my hands and knees and climbed between his legs. I smiled evilly; now it was my turn.

At first, I only took little cat licks around the head, just to see him squirm, until he put his big hand on the back of my head, and gave it a warning push. He meant business, and who was I to deny him? Instantly, I went to work, trying to make him cum as quickly as I could. With his hand still resting on the back of my head, I let him set the pace, swallowing as much as I could before that damned gag reflex kicked in. His hips started jerking a little, and I knew he was close. He started thrusting into my mouth, his body arching off the bed.

Pounding in, thrusting his hips for all he was worth.

Pounding.

"Cat! Open the door. Hey Cat! It's Matty, open the goddamn door!"

Well,

that

was the pounding I woke up to at 7 am this morning. Even though it was Matt and he sounded like something had happened, I didn't much care, for two very good reasons. First, That Dream was awesome, and although I had it pretty often, I had never, never got him to cum for me. Secondly, it was morning. See, I don't do 7 am. No, let me rephrase that. I don't do mornings. I need to be awake for an hour before my brain is functional. The earliest my brain functions is 11:00, and that's only if I really have to. Today, though, I knew if I didn't open the door, the pounding wouldn't stop. I snarled loudly after glancing at my alarm clock, then made a Herculean effort to drag my sleepy ass out of bed. I searched through half-open eyes for my robe. Couldn't find it. With a quick glance to see what I had slept in (an old wife beater and boy cut under shorts) I gave up and made my way out of the bedroom. As I was walking down the hall, Matt came charging up and grabbed me in a bear hug, spinning me around until my fist beating on his back clued him in, and he put me down. In case he had doubts about me and mornings and interrupting my favorite fantasy, I snarled at him once more.

He laughed. "Cat, I don't even care about you being mad at me. Know why? Cause I got a job. A real job, on a real movie set. With movie stars and everything."

I looked up at him, my golden brown eyes squinting, trying to process everything through my sluggish mind and ignore the fever burning through me. "Yay?" I ventured.

Matt grinned. "Yeah, yay, if that's the best you got. Good job Cat, way to follow along."

"Ok, good stuff. Come back and tell me about it in a couple of hours. I'm going to bed," I said, yawning hugely.

"Is that an invitation?" he asked me, laughing.

I shrugged and kept walking. "Yeah, sure. I'm gonna go back to sleep, though, so you'd better not bother me."

I didn't even turn to see if he was following me. He could watch TV on the couch in the living room the same as he could watch it from my bed. It made no difference to me. I knew I wasn't going to have The Dream again, and Matt

is

my best friend. More than my best friend, he's almost my brother. And we've been friends for a while, I guess since we were 12 and I took his best friend's spot on their Little League team. As the only girl playing in the entire league, and a starting player based on talent and not on gender, the team hated me on principle. Matt and I became friends at first solely because of my double play making abilities. But as the season wore on, we just clicked. I was just one of the guys, and it's been the same ever since. Throughout high school, I never really had girlfriends other than the skanks that wanted to hang out with me so I could introduce them to the guys. It never bothered me; I was just more comfortable around guys than girls, probably thanks to my two older brothers. Besides, girls are bitches. Seriously.

Back to this morning, come 9:20 I hear the first of my three alarms (I told you I was bad at mornings). I smacked the offending beeping off bad-temperedly. At 9:40 the second alarm plays music, but softly, and shuts off by itself. And at 10:00 my cell phone alarm rings, and that's when I know I have to get up. Remember? I need at least an hour before I'm good to go.

I open my eyes just a little, to get used to the daylight, and try to roll onto my back, but I can't. My eyes fly open and I turn, looking to see who's in my bed. And, hoping against hope that maybe The Dream had come true. Instead, Matt's propped up on one elbow, my TV remote in his hand, grinning down at me.

"Couldn't remember who you brought home, Kitten?" he asked teasingly.

"Actually, yeah. I mean, there's been so many guys lately, I usually just tell them to leave once they're done with me," I replied dryly.

He shook his head slightly and gently twirled one of my long dark locks. "Seriously, Cat. Have you dated, or even gone out to the pub, or something, since Nick left?"

"No," I said, annoyed. "And I don't want to. Look," I sighed when he gave a warning tug on my hair. "I know y'all wanted to hunt him down and kick his ass for me, but I'm really ok. I'm not missing him or anything. I'm glad he's gone, I really am. It'll just take me a while to scrape myself back together enough to want to find another warm body. In the meantime..." I trailed off.

"In the meantime, what? You'll make do with me?" he asked.

"Well, for the time being, my needs are being satisfied by Cowboy. You'll do for spooning and companionship," I said lightly. Cowboy was my vibrator. Matt just shook his head. "So tell me," I continued. "What was yay about this morning? I vaguely remember."

Now Matt threw back his head and let out a great laugh, his straight white teeth almost gleaming in his tanned face. "I got a job."

"Yeah? A real one?" I teased.

"For the studio. I've finally been called. I'm gonna be an actor, in a real movie."

"With who? David Spade?" I laughed.

"If you're going to make fun of me, then I won't tell you who I'm supposed to be brothers with and who else is in the movie. And trust me, you want to know."

I sighed theatrically. "Okay, Matty. Who?"

Matt looked like he was going to hold out on my, but his excitement got the better of him. "I'm gonna be Josh Dalton's little brother. It's some kind of Army movie. We go through basic training and stuff like that. Pretty cool, huh?"

"Yeah, sounds good. He's hot. And you know I like those movies. Men in uniform, yum!" I winked at him for emphasis. Josh Dalton, a relative newcomer to the Hollywood scene, was making girls of all ages all twitterbated with his rugged good looks. He was a good fit as a brother for Matt, physically, at least. They were both tall and lanky, with warm eyes and big, silly grins. Matt's golden blonde hair would have to be dyed brown and shaved, but other than that, they really could pass as siblings.

"Speaking of men in uniform," Matt grinned at me. "You're gonna love this. I mean you will die. Guess who the star of this is gonna be?"

I shook my head. "Just tell me, boy."

"Guess," he taunted. I moved to punch him, and he laughed. "Okay, okay. Ready for this? It's none other than your man, Brian Houston."

I couldn't breathe. Was I in The Dream? My heart might have skipped a beat, I'm not quite sure. As I sat there, gaping at Matt, I prayed he wasn't dicking with me. By the smirk on his face, I knew he had to be telling the truth.

I love, love, love Brian Houston. He tops my list of celebrities you can sleep with and your significant other can't get mad. Well, he was number one on my list when I had a boyfriend. Now, he was just Someone I Lusted After in The Dream. I don't know. There's something about his strong physique, his gorgeous, square-jawed face and his laid-back, easy-going personality. Ok, I don't know the last part for sure, but he definitely seems chill. And I definitely own every single one of his movies on DVD, even the crap ones.

"Oh, my god. That is so amazing!" I shouted. "When do I get to meet him? Can I come visit you on set? Will you introduce me? Can you tell him about your awesome friend Cat? When-" I was cut off when Matt clamped his hand over my mouth.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy, Cat. I have to report in about a week for the camp the studio's putting us through so we look authentic. You know, shooting guns, running twelve miles with a full pack on, crawling under barbed wire. Sounds like fun, yeah?"

"Okay, so Boot Camp, then. That takes, what? A week? Two?" Matt nodded. "So, after that? I can come to the set? Meet Brian?" I all but drooled.

Matt shook his head and laughed. "I'm not sure about the first week, but probably after that, okay?"

"A whole month?" I wailed. He raised his right eyebrow at me. "Okay, okay," I relented. "How about we go celebrate, movie star? What do you say? Dinner? Drinks? Dancing?"

Matt nodded, and we set a time for that evening. Looking at the clock, I realized that I had to get moving or I was going to be late. "Oh, shit," I exclaimed. With absolutely no regard for Matt, I yelled that I would see him tonight as I walked into the bathroom, stripping off my top as I went.

I jumped in and out of the shower in record time. Quickly towel-drying my long, dark hair, I pulled it all up into a ponytail. I ran out into my bedroom, grabbing underwear and a bra, throwing them on. Lucky for me, I don't even have to think twice about what I have to wear for my job. I'm a physical therapist, so I never had to dress up. My everyday uniform was a T-shirt with some team logo on it, comfy shorts or jeans, and tennis shoes. For the original "comfort before fashion" girl, I loved it.

I looked at the clock; I had just enough time to drive to the center for my first appointment if I skipped breakfast. I drove like a demon, my little Jeep whipping down the streets as if I was late every morning. Which I wasn't. Well, not

every

morning, anyways.

Pulling into my usual spot in the garage, I noticed the gray Mercedes in the corner. Dammit, that meant that my boy was here ahead of me. I ran up the stairs leading to the center, burst through the door, and ran smack into a guy who was cradling his right arm close to his body. He turned around to catch me with his good arm. "Hey, Cat, where's the fire?"

I looked up into his smiling eyes. "How's the shoulder, kid?" At 6'2" he towered over my 5'6" frame, but I always called him 'kid' since he was a year younger than my 26. It gave me a sense of having the upper hand on him, even though he was injured.

Brad was a minor league pitcher rehabilitating his throwing arm. He grinned down at me. "Well, it's not going to get any better if you keep throwing yourself at me, expecting me to catch you."

"That's all part of my plan, kid. If you can catch me, then I'll know you're fine," I winked at him. "When do you leave for spring training?" I asked him as we started his workout.

"Next week. Sure you can't come down there with me, be my personal trainer? You know all the guys would love to see you, Cat."

It was tempting. I'd have loved to be in Florida for a couple months, but it was just too soon to arrange for therapists to take over for my other clients, and too far away from the Bay Area, where I lived. I told Brad that, and he smirked like a little kid.

"I didn't tell you the best part, Cat. The Giants bought my contract. I'll be in Arizona for spring."

I whooped loudly. The Giants were my team. I grew up in the city, and ever since I was little, my dad and brothers had drummed into my head that our family bled orange and black. "That's awesome, kid! I'm so happy for you. When did you find out?"

He told me he got the call over the weekend, and couldn't wait to tell me in person. We kept chatting about the Giants, and who his main competition would be once he got down there. The talk didn't stop until I realized I had gone through his rehab routine automatically, and was now gearing his arm up for the ice massage.

Brad groaned, feeling my hands working out the knots in his muscles. "Sure you can't come with?" he asked again.

"Well, I'll try. I was looking into taking a few weeks off, anyways, in like a month," I said, thinking about Matt's movie, and meeting Brian.

"Maybe I can talk to the trainers there, see if they'd hire you, freelance, for a couple weeks or so. How many clients do you have that'll be going down there, anyway?" Brad asked.

I nodded slowly. "Well, the majority of you right now are ball boys." He grinned. "So I'd only have about four people who'd really need me here. Maybe I can try and pawn them off," I planned out loud.

"Do it," he said firmly. "And that's all the time I have for you today, Cat. I'll call you; let you know what I find out from the guys. Okay? And try, please try, to get some time off and come down to see me. Us. I meant us," he grinned cheekily.

"Even if I get some time off, you want me to come down and work? I'll think about it, kid."

He gave me a quick hug and left. I went through the rest of my day pretty uneventfully. My clients were all athletes, so I never got the usual whine and complain routine that some of my colleagues got. At 5:40 I was done, and I drove home, still thinking about my conversation with Brad. I didn't have too much time to dwell on it, though. Matt was coming to get me at 6:30 to start the celebration.

I got home and ran into the kitchen for a quick snack, then headed to the shower again. As I was getting out, I heard someone knock on my front door. I asked who it was through the door, clad only in a towel.

"I know I'm early, sorry. It's Matty," he called out.

"And James," another voice added.

"And Spence," a third voice piped in. "Let us in, Cat."

I sighed and moved to open the door. "You could've just used your key," I told Matt, slightly annoyed.

He gestured to my towel. "Well, I figured you'd either be showering or just finishing, and we didn't want to scare you like I did last time," he said grimly. "Look how that turned out."

That was the night Matt surprised Nick and I while we were in the shower. It was completely innocent, yet somehow the situation became so complicated, and Nick left me. But that's another story, for another time.

I stretched up and kissed him on the cheek. "Over and done with, ok? Give me ten minutes, and I'll be good to go."

"Better make it 20, so you can do something with yourself," Spence added lightly. I loved him for his ability to defuse a tense situation with comments like that.

"Yeah, no jeans this time, Cat," James threw in. "We're celebrating."

I promised them I'd see what I could do, and turned to get ready. Still wrapped in my towel, I went into the bathroom to dry my hair. When I came out, Matt was pawing through my drawers.

"Well, Mom, if you're looking for the condoms this time, they're in my nightstand." He popped upright, holding some of my underwear in his hands. "Now, that's a different story, pervert."

"Sorry, Kitten. Just laying some stuff out for you, in case you decided to actually live a little. You know, not be such a man-gina?"

I clenched my jaw at that term. Some girls had coined it in high school to describe me, when they thought I was too butch to hang out with. "Fine," I gave in with ill grace. "What did you pick?"

He smiled wickedly. "Here," Matt said as he thrust out his selections to me. I grabbed them and moaned.

"Really?" He nodded. I sighed and motioned for him to leave.

"I don't get to see the show?" he teased, but turned and left, closing the door behind him.

I shook my head, but started putting on his selection, which was my black, see-through lace push-up bra, the matching black g-string, and a black and red satin garter, for good measure. I disregarded the garter, but put on the rest. Over it, Matt had chosen a maroon, crinkled, tunic length camisole and a short, flared denim skirt that barely covered my ass. It was part of an old hooker Halloween costume I'd worn, and I was going to look like a fool, but if it got Matt off my back, I'd wear it. Plus, I knew the guys would protect me.

Finishing my hair and makeup, I spritzed on perfume and checked myself in the mirror one last time. I thought I looked trashy and out to get some, but maybe that was the point. "To hell with it," I decided rashly.

I walked out into the living room and received all sorts of catcalls and whistles. James and Spencer were cheering and clapping, while Matt just grinned approvingly. "Ok," I said, annoyed. "Are we going or are we going?"

We left and arrived at the restaurant in no time. After being seated, James, with a twinkle in his eye, leaned forward. "Well, who's gonna get it started?"

Spence groaned. "Every time? Do we have to play every time?"

"Yes. And for being such a good sport, Spence, you can go first," Matt laughed. This was our game we played non-stop, to see who would do embarrassing things and how boldly they would do them. "Ok, ok, what about the hostess? I think you need to bring us her panties, however you can get 'em. And she can't slap you, like the last time!"

"I always get that one. At least she's not so butch, like that other one," Spence complained. But he grinned. "Ok, James. You have to make out with the bartender. The male one. After you tell him that you're straight."

James just smirked. "Man, I'll get his phone number before you even talk to the hostess," he challenged. "And Matty? You gotta get a girl to go into the men's room with you. You up for it?"

Matt laughed. "Oh, you want to check how up for it I am?"

James made a mock reaching motion, but Spence actually dived right in. "Nope, nothing. I bet he's been sleeping with Cat again, and she killed it," he chuckled.

"Hey," I said in mock indignation. "It's not my fault he can't get it up," I said rather loudly, as Matt blushed and glanced around quickly.

"Oh, yeah?" he asked daringly. "You have to accidentally on purpose fall into some guy's lap, and you have to squirm around a little before you get up. And, he's gotta be on a date or something. Nobody solo."

I swallowed a little apprehension, but I was game. I've never been the one to back down from these guys, and I wasn't about to start now.

"This should be good, what with that booty skirt she's got on," Spence laughed.