East Bay Drive

After a little while, she sought out something to occupy her thoughts. She grabbed her phone and pulled up ESPN to check the results of the game. To her surprise, Mac and his boys had done it and won the game 21-18. Yet nobody had bothered to give her a call and tell her.

Well fine. If that's the way they wanted it.

Sunday

Heather felt as though she was waking up from sleeping within the Black Lagoon, a morass weighing down her entire being. She let out a long groan and stirred, taking inventory of where she was. Low-cut top again... skinny jeans... there's my sandals. She sniffed. Martini mix?

Oh.

Slowly, she sat up, holding a hand to her head to offset the pounding headache. "Ow, ow, ow..."

A rustle of sheets to her left. "Oh, good, you're awake."

Heather cracked an eye open slowly. Marquis was sitting on the edge of the opposite bed, a look of grave concern on his face. "Scared the crap out of me last night, Miss Jefferson."

She stared at the wall, as if the faded sand-colored paint held the keys to clearing up her muddled memories. "What happened?"

"I'm not sure," Marquis said. "All I know is that I came back last night from having dinner with the boys and found you passed out against the door with a bottle of vodka in your hand."

Heather slowly looked over the edge of the bed, to where the bottle in question lay on it's side. "Huh. Where did that come from?"

Marquis snickered. "You tell me."

"Must've found a liquor store around here somewhere," Heather grumbled, slowly sitting up. The sheets curled around her lower body, her top hiking up a little to show off her toned midriff. She looked at the clock, and her eyes snapped open wide. "Wait, it's almost noon! We need to be checked out!"

"Yeah, about that." Marquis got up and moved to the window. He threw open the curtains, and Heather was treated to a view of the courtyard outside being absolutely drenched in rain. Light flashed in the distance, followed by a loud peal of thunder.

"Where the hell did that come from?" Heather said, scooting to the edge of the bed.

"Moved in last night, supposed to last through the day and into the morning. Coach made the call not too long ago - all the planes are grounded for the rest of the day, so we're stuck here until tomorrow morning."

"Shit, I need to tell..." Heather trailed off.

"Tell who?" Marquis asked.

"Don't worry about it," Heather said, her tone a bit snippy. She blinked. "Sorry. Hangover."

The excuse seemed to work. "I feel you. You need anything?"

"Three Bloody Marys sounds like a fantastic start."

He chuckled. "Maybe they have a hurricane special in the lobby bar."

"Really, that'd be fucking great." Heather sighed. "Well, guess I'm nursing a hangover today."

"Some of the guys were trying to figure out something to do while we're hanging out here today. Anything come to mind?"

Heather put her head in her hands. She hadn't done anything yesterday beyond tan for a few minutes, fuck a guy thirty years younger than her, then apparently gotten so drunk she couldn't remember the rest of the night. "Not really," she said. "A lot of it's probably weather dependant, too."

Marquis nodded. "Makes sense. Well, can't complain about a day off."

Heather pointed to his bag. "Did you happen to break out the celebratory thing you don't have last night?"

Marquis shook his head. "Nah." He cocked his head. "Why?"

Heather got up and wagged a finger at him as she headed to the bathroom. "Save it for later."

A shower improved her mood a little, as did a fresh change of clothes. Marquis had settled onto the bed and was channel surfing. Outside, the rain had changed direction, and was spattering hard against the window in big thick drops. She sighed and stepped outside, ducking her head against the downpour.

She went downstairs and found a deli in the lobby that she vaguely remembered from the drunken haze of the night before. They had wrapped sandwiches in a glass case, and she grabbed two turkey and swiss and headed to the counter. Along the way, she passed by a case full of bargain-brand alcohol, and recognized the brand label on the vodka bottles.

Welp. She grabbed a fresh bottle and threw it up on the counter with her sandwitches.

Marquis raised an eyebrow at the sight of the big bottle in her hand as she walked back into the room. "Are you... sure that's a good idea?"

"Why? You want some?"

Marquis looked at the clock. "It's eleven in the morning!"

"Hey, five o'clock was eighteen hours ago," Heather said.

"Damn, off campus you really let loose."

Heather poured herself a small glass of vodka and knocked it back. It was foul, burning down her throat like gasoline. "I have to, keeps me sane."

"Well, maybe keep a lid on it for the next few hours?" Marquis had a look of genuine concern on his face. "Just let the first shot ride so you feel better and then see if you want to go harder."

It was kind of hilarious to her that the college football player was telling her to go easy on the booze. But she knew he was right. She deliberately left the vodka bottle on the kitchenette counter rather than bringing it to the bedside as she sat down and devoured her sandwitches. "Are you just going to hang out in here all day?" she asked him.

He shrugged one shoulder. "Probably, honestly. I want to make sure you're okay."

Heather swallowed a massive bite of her sandwich. "You don't have to worry about me," she said. "I've been around the block a few times."

"More than a few from the looks of things."

Heather smirked, but said nothing, and the two of them sat in silence for a while and listened to the rain patter the window while they watched a cavalcade of stand up specials on Comedy Central. The afternoon dragged on, and on, and Heather felt as though she was letting the entire day slip away from her when she had a handsome football player in the same room as her. But was she really willing to take the risk? The employees of the hotel were easy, as were random people off the beach. They were distant, abstract, a haze of sex that she could put out of her mind at home hundreds of miles away. But sleeping with Marquis would be a step too far - she saw him in the course of her day to day life.

Ah, who was she kidding?

"You got anyone special in your life, Marquis?" she asked during a commercial break as he got up and stretched.

"Not really," he said, scratching an itch on his hip. "Been too busy working towards having a good last year."

She nodded. "I'm sure you see the ladies on my team more than enough."

Marquis smiled a little. "I mean... once or twice, sure..."

"Level with me, who?"

He gave her a curious look. "I'm not one to play kiss and tell, ma'am, sorry."

"Rats." Heather flopped back onto the sheets, crossing her legs. "I just like looking out for my girls."

"I know a few of the guys see them on occasion," Marquis admitted. "Nothing serious among any of them, though."

"Well, that's alright at least." Heather put her hands behind her head.

Another special went by, and as the credits were rolling, Heather's phone rang with Sean's ringtone. She let it go to voicemail, not acknowledging Marquis' curious look. When the message indicator bipped, she called up her voicemail.

"Hey, Heather," Sean said. "I'm guessing you guys got rained out. Still want to talk, if you're willing. Even if it's just to let me know you're safe, okay? Love you. Bye." Click.

He didn't even sound concerned. And if she was willing to talk? Did he even care?

She got up off the bed in a huff and grabbed the vodka bottle, pouring herself another cup and knocking it back. "Ooof, good burn."

"What was that message about?" Marquis asked.

"Don't worry about it," Heather said. She turned to look at him. Fuck subtlety. "Marquis, go grab a few of your boys off the team and have them come order. I'll order us some pizza and we'll celebrate your win instead of just loafing around here like a couple of idiots."

Marquis blinked. "Uh. Okay. How many we talking?"

"I dunno, four, five?" Heather grabbed her phone and began hunting for a pizza place. "I'll get two larges because I know how much you boys can eat."

"Um... awesome!" Marquis said, hopping off the bed. "Thanks! I'll go get a couple of the guys." He left the room as Heather called for two large pepperonis, downing another small glass of vodka in the process.

Fifteen minutes later, the vodka was running smooth through her blood, making her heart pump and her skin feel flushed and warm. She knew what she wanted, the tricky part was making it happen. She didn't know why she wanted it, or what it said about her, but she didn't care. Not when many milliliters of 80-proof alcohol was coursing through her.

A few minutes later, and Marquis came back to the room with several of his teammates in tow. Heather could barely remember their names, but none of them were particularly important. "Hello, boys," she said with a flirty wave.

"Hey, Miss Jefferson," they all chorused.

"Pizza's gonna be here soon," she said. "Marquis, break out the champagne you got. You boys need a proper celebration for your win!"

"You sure about that?" he asked.

"Of course I am! Can't just drink vodka all night, can we?"

Soon, the booze was flowing, and then the pizza came and they feasted. The boys started talking about team matters, and Heather was all too happy to keep plying them with alcohol and joining in on the conversation when she could. She knew little about football - that was Sean's area of expertise - but she still kept trying to weedle out info from the football players.

"Why are you so focused on this?" Marquis asked, taking a sip of his champagne with a laugh.

"I just want to make sure you boys are treating my girls right!" Heather said. She was well and truly inebriated by now, still with her goal in mind. She hadn't changed out of her low-cut top, letting the boys get a good look at what she had. A couple of them had been more obvious in their looking than the others.

"We wouldn't dream of it!" one of the other players said with a laugh, knocking back another highball glass of vodka.

"You better not!" Heather giggled, leaning against the one sitting next to her. He smelled like one of those Manly Man type body washes, but she couldn't deny the smell tickled her nose in the right way, and she made sure he knew she took a nice whiff of it before she straightened back up.

Soon the bottles were all but empty, and everyone in the room was feeling it. The boys had started swapping notes on their romantic partners, with Heather judging over the proceedings.

"You can't just..." Marquis paused, holding up a hand as he burped shortly. "Excuse me, you can't just finish up and leave, dude."

"Why not?" one of the other players said. "It's all she wanted!"

"Maybe then!" Heather said, leaning in to him. "But you have to think long term. Sure it's tempting to just get all the pussy you want know, but eventually one of them might want to come back and then what are you gonna do?"

"That makes no sense, Heather," Marquis said with a bemused look.

"I'm drunk, I don't give a fuck." Heather leaned on the player next to her. "Howsabout you, stud, do you give a fuck?"

His face was beet red, though whether it was from the alcohol or embarrassment she couldn't tell. "I mean... maybe?" was his answer.

Heather reached down and cupped his crotch, and the mood in the room immediately shifted. "Eh, good enough," Heather murmured. SHe tugged the waistband of his shorts down and fished out the cock lurking within. "Ooo, big boy..."

"Yo, Hayden's packing!" one of the other players hooted.

"Hey, shut it," Hayden said, squirming against Heather's touch. "Damn, Miss Jefferson, you're really forward," he said as he hardened against her fingers.

"You boys did good yesterday," Heather said, dipping her head into Hayden's lap. "You deserve a nice reward..."

A few minutes later, Heather was exactly where she wanted to be - on her knees, surrounded by five young, virile men, all with their cocks out as they eagerly awaited their turn. The boys seemed surprisingly okay with being around one another in such a vulnerable state, but they'd probably seen everything in the locker room. Heather bobbed her head, moving from one cock to the next at her discretion, not bothering to be slow and sensual. Her movements were sharp, lips slidings to the root as she left slick trails of saliva along their erections. Everything faded into a hazy blur of horny intoxication as she sucked, kissed, and licked her way around the circle of cocks.

The next thing she knew, she was on her back on the bed, Hayden between her spread legs as he lined himself up and pressed into her eagerly. She moaned loudly, hooking her legs around his muscled frame as he began to fuck her with the speed of the inexperienced that was more than made up for by his girth and length. She let herself relax against the sheets as two of the other boys scrambled up next to her, eager for her to please them as well. "Such good boys," she purred, taking them in hand and stroking them.

They took turns, never giving her a moment to rest. When one groaned and ground himself into her, his warmth flooding deep inside her cunny before pulling out, another would take his place. Heather suspected the boys were more than familiar with sloppy seconds, owing to the lack of hesitation on their part. One by one they took their turns, barely giving her time to breathe between poundings. Some of them were rough, others were far more gentle and experienced.

Among the latter was Marquis, who took his turn late into the train. He was quite the handsome man, his muscles defined to a degree you typically saw on the cover of fitness magazines. Heather crooned softly as she rubbed his cock gently. "My, my..."

"I had a feeling this is what you were up to," Marquis murmured as he slid the tip of his cock against her slick cuntlips. "So I grabbed all the boys I can trust to keep a secret."

Heather licked her lips. "No hesitation on your part, I like that."

He actually smiled at her. "You think I'd pass up a chance to take your fine self for a spin?"

She slid her hands up his sides, her fingertips tensing against his broad, powerful shoulders. "Enough with the flattery and fuck me already."

So he did. Marquis took her with slow, gentle rolls of his hips, his cock spearing her deep. He stayed on his knees, looking down on her as his teammates kept entreating her to suck their cocks, gently rubbing their erections against her face. Heather sucked on them as best she could, curling her tongue to lap up the beads of cum clinging like dew to the tips of those who had already climaxed, and who seemed to be in the position to go again. One of them let out a low groan and let his head fall back, his hips tensing as she shot a load over Heather's chest and belly, the white stark against her skin. As if the floodgates were opened, soon the others were doing the same, painting her body with cum. And then Marquis was finishing in her, and Heather felt him tense and burst inside her cunny, adding more heat to the warm ball that was already simmering like a coal in her groin.

After that it was like letting the air out of a balloon. The boys were done, most of them slipping off the bed to catch their breath on the floor. Marquis slid out of her, his cock drenched in his teammates' orgasms. "You're one kinky woman," he said.

Heather slowly got up, leaving a wet stain on the sheets that she knew she'd have to deal with later. She dipped her head forward and licked Marquis' cock from base to tip. "You have no idea," she murmured.

One by one the others left, ducking out quietly without farewells. Not that Heather expected any - she'd be surprised if half of them would be able to remember this in the morning. She knew Marquis would. "I'll let you take the shower first," he said, sitting back on his bed.

As the water ran over her skin, and the soap suds carried the stickiness down the drain, a profound wave of self-loathing crashed down on Heather, as if her getting gangbanged had unlocked her sense of shame. She leaned on the wall, the cool tile kissing her forehead. In any other scenario Sean would be perfectly happy to hear about what she got up to, but she got the feeling that this might've been a step too far. Had it felt good? Absolutely. But already it felt like an abstract, like a fantasy that she shouldn't have entertained come to life.

She didn't bother to hide her nakedness as she walked out of the bathroom. Marquis gave her a curious look. "It's not like you didn't just see all of me," she said in answer.

"True," he said. "Just..." For the first time she'd known him, he looked uncertain. "Why?"

Heather sat down on the edge of the bed. "I don't know. I don't know."

Monday

The bus rumbled gently on the front drive, heat warping the air around the engine as the valets loaded up their bags into the compartments underneath. Heather stood aside from the football players, staring at her phone. She pulled up the speed dial, highlighted the first number, and hit the Call button.

Sean picked up on the second ring. "Heather?"

Heather swallowed. "Hi, hon."

"Hi." A pause. "I'm guessing you're okay?"

"I'm doing alright. Weather just delayed us."

"That's good. I got a little worried, but I know you can take care of yourself."

"I am good at swimming, you know."

He laughed, then didn't say anything for a time. Heather knew what was on his mind - that last argument weeks prior, the days of living in the same space and managing to not speak to each other, how awkward and unpleasant it had been. She thought of Jasmine, and Simon, and Marquis and the football players, and how she'd simply gotten back at him by doing the exact same thing he'd done to her. What did that make her?

"I'm sorry," they said at the same time.

"Heather, listen..." Sean said.

"Sean, I..." she said. "You first."

"I let the thing with Ruby get out of hand. I know we were supposed to always have threesomes with her, but she came on to me, and I got greedy. I should've talked to you about it first. There's nothing I can say to excuse cheating on you, and all I can ask is a chance to make it up to you and be better."

Heather swallowed, finding a lump in her throat. "Sean... I slept around this weekend."

He didn't say anything for a time. Then he gave a resigned laugh. "I suppose that's all I deserve."

"That doesn't make it okay," Heather said. "Neither of us did anything okay."

"Heather, I love you. That's never changed. I guess we just both have a weakness. I want to work through this with you."

The players were getting on the bus. "I do too. Love you, I mean. And the working through this thing."

Sean sighed with relief. "Just, come home, okay? I'll see you in a little bit."

Heather stepped onto the bus, taking the seat behind the driver again. "You too."

They said goodbye and hung up just as the bus pulled out of the drive, passing the palm trees and the sign promising that you could find yourself. She settled into the seat, closed her eyes, and let the warm summer sun bathe her face.