Trevor

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"I'm telling ya, these bitches are just as slutty as the college chicks, they just play harder to get."

There was always a fifty-fifty chance Dustin was just pulling things out of his ass when he was talking.

"This is the test of your game, Trev. This is your chance to show that you can get pussy without pointing out you're the school's star running back."

"Are you seriously questioning that?" I replied, pushing him into the street as we headed down it. We were in jerseys. It was a cold December night, but we had that macho never need a coat unless it's a blizzard thing. "I'm the Train, baby. People look at me and they're fawning all over me if they think they have the slightest chance in hell."

To further my point, I flexed and struck a pose.

"Trev, I hate to be the one to tell you this, you can't just walk up to women, drop your pants, and show them your dick. That'll get you arrested. You have to try something else."

"Thank you for that enlightened take on dating etiquette, Dustin, I'll take that into consideration." Rolling my eyes, I contemplated shoving him harder. He was supposed to be a linebacker, he could take it. It wasn't like it would send him face-first into the asphalt, no matter how much he deserved it. "No man, I mean just me is enough. When I charm them and take them home, and then show them the Train, well, it's just a bonus."

"We'll see. I bet you don't have any game beyond your reputation. If you find someone who knows who you are? That doesn't count."

"Oh, we're throwing down random rules now, huh?"

"Just laying out what the game is, Trev."

"What are the full rules and regulations? How is scoring handled? How do we determine the winner?"

"Don't be a fucking asshole about it."

I didn't particularly care about the game aspect really. I wanted something different.

We weren't exaggerating how easy it was to get laid. Star players destined for the big leagues, being in a college town and playing for the Indiana team was a good way of keeping yourself always knee-deep in poon.

Literally. I could recall multiple occasions where the drunken, passed-out bodies were stacked on top of each other and I had trouble just finding the bathroom when I woke up due to the chaos that was the frat house.

When you're a teenager and a raging cocktail of hormones and testosterone with an excessive desire to prove your manhood, endless fucking seems like something you could never get tired of.

Somehow, someway though... it was starting to feel like it was possible.

An endless array of pretty girls coming up and wanting to take a ride on the train.

Sure, I was a running back with an obscene amount of yards recorded each game.

That was definitely the main reason I had earned my nickname. Two hundred pounds of muscle barreling down the field? Yeah, getting hit by me was getting hit like a train.

Girls, though, they weren't interested in that train. Half the girls I'd been with couldn't give a damn about my statistics. They just heard that the train is one hell of a ride, so fun that you'll never want to get off.

If you're still dense, I'll spell it out for you: the train is my penis.

That crass note out of the way, I was getting sort of tired of being the conductor. I mean, if I was going to soullessly fuck anyone who asked, I should at least make a career out of it.

I made a mental note in case some sort of freak injury derails my big league dreams. I needed to do something if I was going to be Mom's hero like she thought I actually was. If for some reason I ended up going into porn, I was split if she would be offended or if she would be one of those cool moms who supports you no matter what you do. High profile football star? I support you honey. Renowned porn actor known for his work in Anal Butt Sluts 47? If that's what makes you happy. Cashier at a gas station? It's so good you got a job in today's market.

Probably the latter. My mom was pretty awesome, and if that made me a Momma's boy, I wasn't going to disagree.

For now though, I had the night to enjoy, and maybe a worthy woman too. Maybe one of these older chicks would light my passions up. Some sort of MILF.

I shook my head, reminding myself that twenty-somethings typically weren't MILFs, unless they were of the teenage single mother variety. Still, something. I needed something in my life beyond being a story to tell, the next party, the next game. At age twenty-two, I suddenly started feeling like I needed to evolve into an actual adult.

"There's my prey," Dustin said, whispering into my ear. He gestured toward a group of girls who looked like they may as well have been in college still. I didn't recognize them, and I never forget a woman's face, and damn, I'd seen a lot of them. "Going for the ol' four-way. Does it just become a reverse gangbang at that point, you think?"

"You go have fun, Dustin," I said, patting him on the head like the child he was. I'd tried it, but intimacy was never all that fun to me when it wasn't actually intimate. It was hard to be intimate with more than a single person at a time, so big orgies weren't one of my favorite things.

"I will. We'll compare out catches soon." He winked my way with a smile. He was always sort of abrasive, he'd be screwed if he weren't so talented and handsome, but he was, so for now, life was good.

For me? I kept scanning my eyes over the room. Looking over the field, seeing if the goods were any better than what Dustin was promoting.

They were. By God, they were.

Dustin could have every other woman on the planet for all I cared. When I saw her, I felt a twitching down there.

I hadn't felt myself get hard from just looking at someone in a very, very long time.

Just the way she was looking at her friend, however, it was like she didn't know she was some sort of Goddess among mortals.

It was going to be up to me to show her the truth.