Three Strikes Ch. 20

Story Info
Epilogue!
9.1k words
4.9
26.1k
28
Story does not have any tags

Part 20 of the 20 part series

Updated 06/09/2023
Created 08/12/2018
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

"What is my biggest pet peeve?" I quizzed Shane, while watching him trim meat at the kitchen counter.

"People that don't avoid potholes when driving."

I didn't miss the adorable smirk as he answered the question correctly and without hesitation.

Thanks to Google, I had a list of popular Newlywed game questions on my phone and had been grilling him for days. It'd been almost five months since we started over. Almost five months since Shane dropped the bomb that we weren't having sex until we got to know each other.

A lot had happened in those months.

We finally professed our love. It wasn't hormone induced like the first time—well, maybe a little. It was two weeks after the championship game. I'd come back from my third 'coffee date' with Jack and was feeling a bit like a pile of fresh horse manure. Jack showed no mercy, and most of our afternoon I felt like being an ant under a magnifying glass.

Conversation was casual and then, BAM, he'd ask what seemed like a really simple question, except it was only an illusion. Like, 'how'd it make you feel when Shane was disrespectful?'

That's what I'd consider an easy question. But then he'd ask, 'how do you think Shane felt when you did one of the many shitty and selfish things you did in return? (my words, not his).

'Well Jack, he probably felt giant, pathetic loser, thanks for bringing it up!'

Anyway, I had just come back from a particularly shitty conversation, where it was ever so kindly brought to my attention how superficial I was. How I projected my insecurity to those around me. It sounds so simple, but by the time I got home I was red hot and angry—at myself.

Shane had come over for dinner. By the end of the evening I'd really wanted to end the no sex thing. I thought I needed the physical contact. When he stood his ground and said no, well, let's just say I hadn't taken his rejection lightly. Oh no. I'd not taken it lightly at all. He'd tried to bow out gracefully, to leave before things got worse.

None of that worked.

We ended up in the street, me giving the neighborhood a first-rate show. I screamed, yelled, and waved my arms wildly like the true psycho I could be.

"You're probably seeing someone else! That's why you don't want to touch me!" I'd accused.

"Yes, I'm only with you for the theatrics. Who needs sex when I can have all this," he'd quipped, gesturing toward me and breaking the silence he'd held during most of my outlandish behavior.

Slap.

He hadn't seen it coming. Neither had I. I don't know who it shocked more; me or him. The stinging in my palm broke whatever rage I'd been in and I instantly realized the error of my way. I stood there shocked, then rushed forward.

"I did not mean to do that!" I apologized profusely. I'd hit him. He'd had every right to leave me; to storm out and never return.

"Are you done," he'd asked, after I finally stopped apologizing.

"Don't leave me," I'd begged.

He rolled his eyes. "You're love of the arts is strong, but not nearly as strong as my love for you."

I kissed the shit out of him. I would've kept kissing the shit out of him if he hadn't ruined the moment by smacking my ass ridiculously hard. I pulled back in surprise and rubbed my tender bum. "What was that for?" I asked.

"Tit for tat," he rubbed the spot on his cheek where I'd hit him minutes before, to drive his point home.

It wasn't the Nicolas Sparks moment we had the first time we'd confessed our love, but it was real and it was raw. I hadn't realized how much I needed to hear those words. It was the intimacy I needed and made waiting for sex a little easier. A little.

Shane's house had been mostly completed and he had asked me to help shop for furniture and home decor. I guess all the complaining I did, telling him that his style was lifeless; full of black and grey, had been enough to make him cave. I was far from an interior designer, but happily accepted his offer anyway. I thought it would be fun to go shopping with his money and buy a bunch of crap. His hesitation while picking out some of the pieces was apparent, but for the most part, he let me take the lead. He might have moaned and groaned, but in the end, I think he really liked it. It was still obviously Shane's home, and there was still a lot of grey and black, but now there was color and personality, too. We had a lot of fun making his house a home and, although we hadn't talked about it, I think we both had visions of our home.

Shane had also flown east with me and met my parents. We only stayed for the weekend, which was the perfect amount of time. I love my parents but they can be a bit intense. I figured it was best to take baby bites. They were ecstatic to have us visit. I hadn't dated anyone long enough to meet the parents. To be honest, I didn't see them as much as I should've, with or without a boyfriend. Regardless, Mom had gone all Joanna Gaines on steroids upon our arrival. Not that I was complaining, we were treated like royalty, but it's still weird to watch my parents be a bit psycho. Shane seemed amused when he first saw the shrine that was my former baseball life. He quite enjoyed reliving that time of my life and my parents had no qualms about answering all of his obscene amount of questions. Luckily, he still loved me when we flew home.

Speaking of family, I'd even been included into Shane's village. They'd typically have dinner twice a month. After being badgered by this mother, Shane invited me along. The first dinner was incredibly awkward. Shane's dad barely spoke the entire time. As I came around more, he had warmed up, until finally, after half a dozen encounters, he apologized. We're not best friends but it wasn't nearly as tense, either. I did feel like I had a better understanding into Shane's history. His dad is incredibly loveable and you can't help but want to impress him yet, he's a bit cold and judgmental. It makes the sting that much more severe. Shane still loved his dad, but it was clear a healthy distance had formed between them.

We also hadn't won a single game of Newlywed against DAKS. Of the twelve or so games we'd played, we had come up short every time. Now that we were sitting at eighteen weeks post pool party, I can admit that my earlier guesstimate of one to two weeks was a bit zealous. Which is why I was reading a list of questions from google in an attempt to finally win. Five months is a completely insane amount of time to refrain from all sexual activity. Yes, all sexual activity. Shane hadn't been joking. I was lucky to get a steamy goodnight kiss when we parted ways at nine-pm. Shane was insistent about that so we didn't 'tempt each other'.

It probably had something to do with the fact I'd try like hell to seduce the crap out of him every chance I got. In fact, it's the thing we'd fought the most about. I never had taken rejection well.

I wasn't sure what was worse, going almost five months without touching Shane below the belt or consistently losing a 'who knows who best' game to his friends. Like, obviously we had a rocky start because we really didn't know shit about each other. I'd never admit it, but every time we lost, I felt like it only served to prove Shane's point.

"What would I say is your pet peeve?"

"These questions," he looks up from the meat and winks. He's such a damn tease.

"I'm serious! You might enjoy not getting your dick wet but I don't."

I stuck my lip out and pouted, upset he wasn't taking it as serious as me. I knew he was dying to fuck me but I think he also enjoyed watching me suffer, and his poker face was a lot better than mine.

"People that stand in the middle of the escalator, not allowing others to pass."

"Yesss," I danced in my chair. "That's what I would've said!"

I followed Shane around the kitchen and quizzed him, then out to the yard as he started laying meat on the grill. When we first met, he wasn't all that great a cook but, since we weren't having sex, he'd been watching a lot of Gordon Ramsay shows and he seemed to have found his inspiration.

I made him quiz me in return until the doorbell rang. Even then, we stayed outside. There was no need greet the bastards at the door, they were going to make themselves at home anyway.

"Do we get a handicap since Aaron and Kurt have been friends since the dawn of time?"

"This isn't golf, there's no handicap," Shane shook his head at me.

"Well, there should be," I huffed.

I was nervous. I really didn't want to lose a fourth time, granted we were playing against friends of thirty-five years, but still.

"How many scars do I have?" Aaron asked Kurt as they joined us outside.

"Three," Kurt looked like a smug bastard. I didn't know why they all wanted me to lose so bad. I wasn't sure if they were trying to punish me, or Shane.

"Ah, so the same number of sexual partners you've had?"

"Times like, a million maybe," Aaron glared at me.

"Three million women?" I pulled out my phone and did a quick calculation, "that's like, four-hundred and forty woman a day if you started having sex when you were in your mid-teens."

Shane looked up from the grill and shook his head, laughing at our banter. He loved that I got on with his friends. We set the table and dug in. Dinner with DAKS was always amusing. They shared stories and seemed to have a healthy balance of ribbing and caring towards one another. We had dinner once a week or so. Once a month we had dinner all together; DONNAS and DAKS. That was always a good time, too. We'd built a quite interesting village of our own. I couldn't even begin to describe the dynamic between us, but it made things interesting.

"Well, are you guys ready to lose another round?" Aaron asked as everyone cleared the table. "I don't think another month of celibacy would be such a bad thing. I mean, Shane's food has really improved."

I flipped him off on my way to the living room. Not so bad for them, but I might die. We sat down and started playing.

****

My heart was racing as we got down to the last two questions. We were one down, if we got this right then we'd be tied, which meant we had a real chance to win.

"Finish this sentence, 'I wish my boyfriend would pay as much attention to me as he does—'" Drew asked Shane, who instantly went to work on his whiteboard.

I looked blankly at my whiteboard. Here's the really crappy things about the game; it isn't just about the correct answer, it's about anticipating your partners answer. What would Shane say I spent the most time on? What if Shane is thinking about what I would write as the answer? Do I answer for me or for Shane?

It's a real fucking rabbit hole.

I looked up to see Shane frowning slightly at my delayed response.

No pressure.

Last week Shane stopped by the house, unannounced. I was in the middle of self-care and my face donned a black mud mask. I'd tried to get Shane to join me but he refused. He wanted to go out to dinner right then, which I refused, for obvious reasons.

So, it's possible Shane might write something about self-care or facials. So, I scribbled it down. Then I second guessed myself.

"Oh c'mon, we all know the answer to this one!" Drew shouted as I quickly erased my answer.

His comment wasn't helping the severe case of stress sweat I was experiencing under the intense pressure of getting the same answer as Shane. I looked at Shane, trying to gauge some sort of response, but got nothing more than a 'you seriously don't know this?' look.

"Ten—," Kurt, Drew, and Aaron started counting down, "nine, eight, seven—"

My heart was racing as I scribble the next thing that came to mind before aggressively slamming my board face down on the table.

"Okay! Done," I said breathlessly.

"Alright, let's see if we move on to the lightening round!" Drew mimicked every cheesy game show host that'd ever lived.

"I wish my boyfriend would pay as much attention to me as he does his—" Shane lifted up his whiteboard so we could all see, "hair."

It felt everything drained from my body. I'd been so tense with anticipation and hearing his words almost made me sick to my stomach. I felt shaky as every pair of eyes in the room watched as I lifted my board.

"Hair," I tried to sound confident but I was feeling a bit shaky.

We were tied. That was the closest we'd ever made it. Shane reached across the coffee table with a giant grin and gave me high five.

"You doubted yourself, that was the easiest question to-date," he gave me a pointed, yet playful, look.

"Well, there's a lot of potential answers to that questions," I said, making everyone laugh because it was painfully true.

"LIGHTENING ROUND!" Drew interrupted. "This is a one question wins all. If Gordy and Shane get it right, then they win. If they get it wrong—dun dun duuuuun!"

Drews announcement was met with no resistance from Kurt and Aaron as they relax back into the couch and waited for us to proceed. I imagined they were done playing the same game every week. They'd been wanting to move on to some raunchy card game.

"Okay, what collegiate athlete did Shane jerk off to the most between the years two-thousand-three and two-thousand-eight?"

My eyes widened. I had no clue. We had literally never talked about this, ever. I glanced at each of the men as they laughed at one another while Shane rolled his eyes at the question. He didn't even have to think before he started jotting the answer down.

Un-shamelessly, I tried to peak. I wasn't above playing dirty. The guys cried foul and forced me to keep my eyes to myself.

"I didn't see anything! Jeez," I put my hands up as I sat back.

I had to think. I knew Shane was part of the same division as I was. Pac12. He went to college in California. I think he graduated in twenty-zero-five, that was the year before I started at OSU. I was familiar-ish with some of the players from different teams. Daniel Sloan was a QB from Stanford. He looked hot as hell in his football gear. I'd jerked it a few times. Cal State had Ken Baker, stellar shortstop.

In reality, there was too many options. I hadn't even thought beyond Pac12. Even if his 'jerk fantasy' was in Pac12, that was twelve schools, each with baseball, basketball, football, wrestling, swimming, track and field, soccer, rowing, and golf. Did that include cheerleading? Or other male sports that weren't as widely accepted? The statistical probability that I'd get it right was not in my favor.

It was an impossible question. There was no winning. All I could go for was an answer that might get a laugh or two, then we'd try again next week. I laughed while scribbling down my ridiculous answer.

I glared at the opposing team. They thought they were so fucking smug.

"Okay, Donovan," Drew encouraged me to start.

I smiled brightly, putting on a show.

"Well Drew," I replied, over enthusiastically. "Since you decided to give us a statistically impossible answer, I decided to go with—"

I flipped my board around.

Donny Allerton

The room erupted in woops and shouts.

Shane smiled and turned his board around.

Donny Allerton

"Shut up," I said, not knowing how else to respond.

He nodded while his friends bumped into one another in celebration. I felt someone shove my shoulder but I only saw Shane. It was tunnel vision and nothing else mattered.

"We won," I stated and he nodded again. His lip curled playfully. Bastard had to be cute as hell.

The only thing that could get my dick harder, faster, than knowing we were finally going to have sex, was knowing that Shane had lusted after me a decade ago. Long before we'd ever met. Judging by the bulge in Shane's pants, it didn't look like he needed much help rising to the occasion. I decided not to waste another moment. Five months was plenty. I stood and striped my shirt off.

"Oh fuck," Aaron warned, realizing what was happening. "Man sex! Get your crap and go!"

I barely registered the guys as they started to scramble out of the living room as I began unbuttoning my pants before shoving them down. I didn't care if there was an audience. They'd cocked blocked me for months.

I was down to my underwear as jackets were being grabbed from the backs of chairs and keys were desperately searched for. I think the fact they were frantically trying to leave made it harder for them to find all their shit.

I walked to Shane and took off his shirt, then started on his pants.

"Drew—DREW!" Kurt screamed, grabbing Drew by his collar and dragging him out the front door. "Pervert!"

When Shane was deliciously naked and hard, I grabbed the small bottle of lubed I'd packed, you know, just in case. He was leaning back on the couch, touching himself while watching me, as I stood between his legs and opened the bottle.

"Boy scout," he teased.

I pointed the bottled at him and squeezed. A stream of clear liquid circled his abdomen and groin, like chocolate syrup on an ice-cream sundae.

Not expecting to be doused in lubed, he raised his hands in a protective manner.

"What are you doing? I'm a fucking slip n' slide," he shouted, laughter finding its way to the surface as he ran his fingers through the excess lube that covered his naked flesh.

"Preparation is key," I smiled, teasingly.

He was about to argue until I reached down and started stroking him shaft. He was toast. I leaned forward until one hand was bracing the back of the couch while the other continued to move effortlessly over his cock. I kissed his neck as he moaned. The more I kissed him, the louder he got. It could've been the kisses or it could've been the rubbing, regardless, it was driving me crazy. I straddled him until he was wedged perfectly in my ass. I rocked back and forth, teasing myself with his hot flesh.

I couldn't wait anymore. I reached down and grabbed his massive erection and settled myself over it. I wasn't fully prepared, but I'd managed. I worked my down, slowly adjusting along the way. Shane let me lead the way, doing nothing more than desperately gripping my hips. He moved one hand to my own desperate cock, causing me to shudder with pleasure. I felt myself relax and slip a little more effortlessly until I was fully seated on his powerful rod. He pulled me forward until our lips met. There were no words to describe being that close to him.

It wasn't long until I was bouncing wildly, flexing every muscle and driving Shane crazy. There was nothing sensual about it. Every movement had a purpose. We were both chasing the end of a dry spell. I was on the edge of orgasm forever as I moved faster and drove myself on him harder and harder. I was so close. I felt uncoordinated as moved wildly while pawing Shane with my hands. I couldn't get enough.

He shifted slightly and pushed my pelvis. It changed the angle and the next thing I knew my body was being ripped apart as Shane thrusted up mercilessly. I was no longer able to function as the orgasm took over my body.

****

I woke up at some point. I was still straddling Shane, my head resting on his shoulder and his arms wrapped around my waist.

"Did you get it out of your system?" Shane asked, realizing I was conscious again. I nodded. "Can we do it my way now?"

I nodded, again.

He carried me upstairs. We showered, not because of cum. No, Shane wasn't impressed about the half bottle of lube I'd poured on him.

The rest of the night we spend making love.

Shane looked like he'd won the lottery when he woke up the next morning and I was still in bed. He flipped me on my back and covered me with his body as he kissed my face and ran his fingers through my hair.

"This is—," his brown eyes were feral as they roamed over me, "perfect."

I groaned.

I could feel it. We'd showered then gone straight to bed and sexed. Those weren't favorable conditions for my hair. But fuck if the look on Shane's face didn't make me completely forget that I probably looked like Gary Busey.