Love With An Asterisk*

Clause 2: The Trophy

Clause 2: The Trophy

It was the day of the championships and the energy in the air was almost palpable. We were playing North Carolina University today which was the same team that knocked us out of the finals my freshmen year. Needless to say, I was holding a small personal grudge against them for that. Granted, we had played them several times since then and won, but there was something about today and everything that was on the line that made my hunger for victory almost savage-like.

Each guy was performing his pre-game rituals with extra care. For Sanchez that meant putting on his extra sweaty lucky socks which smell like they haven't been washed since God separated the land from the water. Obviously Sanchez doesn't know about detergent and a washer.

For Mike, it meant taking a shot of wheatgrass extract and texting whatever girl he was hooking up with for the week. Explaining all of the sexual things she could do for him if he won the game for her, and promising her all the nasty things he would do to her in order to work out his frustrations if we lost. That was Mike motto, "Life is about sex and baseball everything else in between are just minor details leading up to those two."

For me, well, I smirked when a certain 5'4" beauty came to mind (not that she ever really left my thoughts, but you get the idea). The thought of our future together made me happy as it always did. I thought about her smile, her tiny hands wrapped in mine. How I always turned the heat down in the apartment which forced her to come find me so we could cuddle. I thought about her whispering in my ear...

So yes, I admit, maybe there was more to the fact that I wanted to win other than to just hold the trophy. Right before the team headed to the field, she promised that if we won today she would perform a deed of the naughty variety on me. It was something she only did it to me on very very special occasions. Something I absolutely loved, and I was not about to let an opportunity like that pass me by.

Thinking about the promise of reward for good doing made me sound something like a lap-dog, but I—and everyone around me—knew that I would be and do whatever that woman asked, even if it was impossible. That’s the funny thing about love. It gives you this supernatural strength to do some crazy things like moving the stars and the moon if that’s what the object of your affection asked of you.

Cianna is the object of my affection.

So I would win this game, not only for my school, my team and my future, but I would win it for Cianna because that’s what she wanted. Lucky for me, she would reward me... Perhaps it would be in the form of walking around the house for a week in whatever skimpy selections of lingerie I picked out, and to be perfectly honest I seemed to only be inclined to select the pieces lingerie whose fabric totaled about 2-square inches. Maybe she'd even go with the invisible lingerie I "picked out". She went along with that last time, and boy, was it a weekend full of “exercise”.

As the memory flooded my mind, I tried to stifle the lusty smirk attempting to slip its way onto my face.

It didn’t work.

"Monroe? Monroe?!" Someone with a heavy accent snapped their fingers in front of my face, but I was in my own little fantasy world. I just wanted to game to be over with already so I could get the trophy and use it to hang Cianna’s panties on it later tonight. "Mars to Monroe Bennett!"

"You need to work on your English some more Sanchez, because you suck. Also, it's Earth to, not Mars to. And lastly, dude, leave Monroe alone," my subconscious recognized the voice of Mike, my best friend. "You know he plays better when he fantasizes about Cianna before a game.” He chuckled before adding. “His fantasies are the only action he gets anyway."