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Lol Dalton thought he could handle that when we were just fuck buddies but pretty sure him kicking Everett out was the hottest part of the night.
Ava
That story is hands down the reason I got a membership at Masqued
Ava
Ok and maybe the fact our best friend owns it but still that story gahhh… it lives rent free in my head.
Me
I love you both almost as much as we all love sex! Gotta go watch my man play:) talk soon!
Ava
Love you babes…guess we can go back to our normal bestie group chat since Sloan definitely knows that you’re a slutty little nanny banging her brother again:)
Twenty-Eight
One month later
Announcer 1: What better way to close out this fantastic opening day here at the Carolina Bulls Stadium than to bring in America’s favorite closer #41 Eli Barton
Announcer 2: You’re not wrong there. With the way the Bulls have played tonight, this should be a quick three up, three down situation.
Nothing could top the high I'm feeling. Our team played like the champions we are today, and I couldn’t be happier to help finish off a stellar game. I can feel it in my bones, this is going to be our year.
Considering April weather in North Carolina is usually quite hit or miss, we lucked out with a sunny afternoon. Perfect weather for a ballgame. But nothing could top the feeling of seeing all three of my girls behind home plate.
Of course, Quinn turned down the opportunity to sit in the family box seats, which the Bulls have set aside for the players. She wanted to be down on field level, so she’d have a better view of, and I quote,
“That amazing ass of yours in your baseball pants.”
As I take the mound, I gaze into the crowd, knowing exactly where to look, and I catch Quinn sitting there with both the girls. My girls with their matching Carolina Bulls t-shirts and hats, and Quinn rocking an extra jersey of mine. Both chanting “Dada” incessantly, all their attention is on me.
A collective “aww” comes over the crowd, and I peer back at the jumbotron, which is currently zoomed in on all three of them. Quinn has a proud smile on her face as she waves, and the girls carry on mouthing “Dada.” It’s an image that will forever be ingrained in my heart. I don’t think anything has ever felt more right in my life.
My attention is pulled away when the first batter steps up to the plate. Grabbing my chain, I give it a quick kiss, then nod at Roger, who pulls down his mask and crouches. Shaking off the first sign he throws, I agree to the second.Three up, three down… let's finish this.
The crowd erupts in cheers as the last batter swings and misses strike three. Everyone jogs to meet up along the first baseline in celebratory high fives and handshakes. After several moments, I leave the baseline and head toward my family.
When I approach the fence protecting the seats behind the plate, I laugh at seeing the girls practically leaping out of Quinn's arms. Reaching their little hands through the holes to grab onto my fingers, I give each of their tiny digits a nibble and a kiss.
“Great game, Hotshot,” Quinn says while trying to wrangle the little hellions.
I do a ‘come here’ motion with my finger, causing her to get closer to the fence so I can kiss her. Not for the crowd, not for the papers, but because there’s nothing I want more than to feel her lips on mine at that moment.
When I begin to hear several whistles and catcalls from around us, I realize it’s time to break away.
Quinn’s green eyes sparkle as she steps back. A slight blush creeps up her cheeks, and she grabs the twin's gear from the attendant I had assigned to her. Since she didn’t have the space the luxury boxes would provide, I ensured she wouldn’t have to lug the girls’ stroller down the cramped stadium steps.
“I’ll see you at home, babe,” I say to a still stunned Quinn.
“See you soon,” she practically purrs as she eyes me up and down. My dick twitches in anticipation. I know that little stunt got her wet. My girl loves when I can’t control myself.
* * *
Walking through the front doors,I hear an excess of voices. When I follow the noise, I find Quinn FaceTiming with both our moms.
