February Blows

FEBRUARY BLOWS

Author's Note:

I've read with great interest the great story by George Anderson and the many 'what it should have been' versions that other authors came up with.

I thought of a different twist.

With apologies to Mr. Anderson, I hope you enjoy.

I'm Marc LaValliere. A lot of guys hate me now because of a story that George Anderson wrote about me stealing a man's wife away from him at their Valentine's celebration and keeping her all night. I am not the villain people are making me out to be. I am involved in a lot of charity work and it is not for the publicity although my agent makes it look like I am. My family was poor when I grew up. I have taken care of them now, but several churches and social service agencies helped us out. I am returning the favor. Hell, I know what a two-foot long block of cheese is as well as natural peanut butter.

But I degree. Mr. Anderson told the story from the husband's point of view. I don't doubt that he portrayed the husband's stance accurately, but the husband was not told the true story at the time. Here it is from my point of view.

I'm a professional football player with the Miami Dolphins. I'm also good looking. One I work hard at and the other is just God given. I admit I've never had trouble getting women to date me. In fact, It's the opposite. I've had trouble keeping women from offering themselves to me, often right in front of their husbands. I would like to say that I'm not that kind of guy and usually I'm not. It's one reason I'm not married. I'd hate to put a wife through the solicitations and tabloid rumors. You have no idea how much free pussy I've turned down in every town where we've played. Some guys don't believe it about pussy, but you can get too much of a good thing, even pussy.

For the above reason, I don't like to go out to clubs and such. Women either fight over me -- I mean hair-pulling, bitch-slapping, ass-kicking fighting OR men get pissed off at me because of how their woman is flirting with me. They dare me to fight thinking even if they get their ass kicked, they can sue me for lots of money. For that reason, I actually travel with bodyguards even though I can kick most men's butts.

My agent is always pushing me to go out in public. Probably because he gets a percentage of my jersey sales. He's of the 'as long as they spell your name correctly' publicity philosophy. On Valentine's Day, I thought I would chance going back home and seeing some of my old high school football buddies. Evidently, they let other people know. I was surrounded by admirers. All they seemed to want was to talk about all the women I scored with and buy me drinks. I avoided the private talks with someone because that meant a request for money since I had more than enough.

After a while, some of the guys started talking smack. They said they doubted my ability to get chicks without even trying. A bit drunk and a lot stupid, I showed them. I saw a table with a couple of nice-looking chicks. One had been trying to get my attention all night by hiking up her dress when I looked her way. I linked eyeballs with her and smiled. I figured she wet her panties.

It didn't take long before she came up to me and asked me to dance. She said her name was Dee. Soon we were in the area of the restrooms making out. She surprised me with the line that her better looking friend, Linda, was dying to meet me and was willing to do anything to spend some time with me. I looked at her and asked, "Are you saying what I think you're saying? Who's the guy she's with?" Dee said that was her husband. I was not supposed to worry. He's a cuckold and would probably ask Linda to get my autograph. God, I hate wimps. Then, she said she would prove how serious she was. In ten seconds, she had dropped down, opened my fly and was sucking my dick.

So, after some time, I went over to the table and asked Linda to dance. I paid no respect to her husband because I don't respect wimps. He did nothing to stop me. When we danced, Linda made it clear she wanted to rub against my body. I didn't resist. She refused to sit down again until another slow song came up. When one did, my bulge and her mound were making room reservations. We did the old restroom escape trick and headed for my apartment. I got my second blowjob of the night on the way.

Linda proved to be a decent piece of ass. Definitely not in my top ten of all time though. She was obviously thrilled with being with me and was thrilled at being so naughty. In the pause between the second and third fuck, she suggested I call her husband and rub it in. I thought it was cruel, but probably was the thing a cuck would want. I still couldn't do it. I'm glad because I found out later that he was an unwilling cuckold. I think I would have felt worse if I had made that phone call than I ever did about fucking his wife.

I was ready to take Linda home the next morning, but she begged me for one last romp. She got me prepared and we had sex one more time. That bitch was insatiable. Linda tried to give me another blowjob on the way home. Hell, we were in her driveway before she gave up. Damn.

I went home to rest. Even though it wasn't training season, I still needed my rest and my exercise. I thought that was the last of Linda. Wrong. I wasn't interested in a rematch, but she called and started hinting that a newspaper might like a story about me where I took a man's wife away from him at their Valentine's celebration. I gave in. I didn't need bad publicity when this would be the year to re-negotiate my contract. My heart and dick weren't in it and we had the worst sex I had ever had. She, however, was still thrilled. I think she was angling for me to become her fuck buddy long term. Linda called everyday to schedule a rematch.

Before the week ended, I got a call from that Dee chick. She was going to blackmail me if I didn't fuck her too. Somehow, she and Linda got together and arranged a threesome. Dee turned out to be a better fuck than Linda. I think it was because she never thought she was as pretty as Linda, so she put more energy into her fucking and sucking. She was married too. Damn, does any married woman believe in her wedding vows anymore?

I found out from Dee that Linda was going overboard on rubbing it in to her husband while pretending that she still loved him and wanted nothing more to with me. She sent flowers and notes that were supposedly from me to keep his blood boiling. Her ass would have been kissing pavement if she had been my wife. I figured he must be a wimp after all to put up with that shit from his slut wife. Meanwhile Dee and/or Linda kept trying to come over when they thought it was safe. I couldn't take it anymore. I ran away.

I arranged for my agent to book me a tour in Southern California. I would sign autographs but only on my apparel they had to buy at the table. It was like double the normal profit that way. My agent arranged what I call a 'photo date' with a Hollywood starlet. Sure enough, the tabloids posted pictures and headlines like "Look who Marc LaValliere is dating now." There were inuendoes of spending the night together. Standard publicity crap.

When I got back to the hotel, my phone rang, "You bastard, how could you cheat on me and Dee like that? What we have is special about her that you have to go and screw the first bimbo that offers to suck your dick? You know we'll do anything you want sexually and there's two of us." It was Linda. I finally realized that she was wacko. I didn't respond and unplugged the phone. I immediately packed and moved to another hotel. Then I called an agent and got a restraining order against Linda and Dee.

Evidently, the restraining order worked. In a couple of months, I had a private investigator check for sure. He told me that Linda and her husband had reconciled. She had convinced him that our first meeting was a one off and she had no further interest in me. Her hubbie was dumb and happy. I couldn't let that happen to the poor schmuck.

I had learned to record all my romantic couplings to have as evidence that I had not raped or drugged the woman in my bed. I took the recording of Linda and me where she admitted how she and Dee had set this all up. They knew I would be at the club and laid the trap for me. Now her poor, unfortunate husband would know the truth. I sent a copy of the call and offered to get him football tickets if he wanted.

I heard nothing else until one day he sent me a copy of his divorce decree and a Thank You note. He turned down the ticket offer. He was a Ravens fan. That made me regret having done him a favor. Damn.