by B. B. Hamel
“See you then.”
I hang up the phone. I’m still angry. I still hate myself. I still hate Soren.
But I can’t help it. I want Sean and I want him bad. I might as well get something that feels good if these guys are just going to treat me like a slut anyway.
I might as well play my own damn game.
9
Sean
Ten rolls around and I’m fucking nervous.
I can’t believe it. I don’t know why. I’m never nervous.
I know what she wants. There’s no question about it now. She wants me to fuck her tight little pussy until she screams.
I’m practically hard for the rest of the day after that call. Now I’m goddamn rock hard, just waiting for her to show up.
Ten passes, and I start to pace. I can barely control myself. My blood is practically boiling.
I want Brynn so fucking badly I can barely breathe.
Around ten-thirty, there’s a knock at my door. I hesitate, but I answer it.
And there she is. I almost didn’t expect her to show.
She cocks her head. “Let me inside,” she says.
I grin and stand back. She follows me in and I shut the door behind her.
“This is it,” I say.
She takes off her jacket and drops it on the back of the couch. She’s wearing this sheer top, lacey and black and tight against her skin. Her skirt is short and light pink, and I already know she’s not wearing any panties underneath it.
And of course she’s not wearing a bra.
I know what she’s here for. Part of me wants to talk to her, try and understand what the fuck she’s doing, what sort of game we’re playing.
But fuck it. If she wants this, she can have it.
My blood’s already boiling over as I walk up to her, grab her by the hair, and kiss her.
She’s here to get fucked. There’s nothing else to it. There’s no ambiguity. She doesn’t want to talk, doesn’t want to explain. She wants my cock deep between her legs.
And I’m happy to oblige.
I pull her over to the kitchen. I push her up against the island counter and pull her hair back, tilting her chin up. She grabs at my jeans, unbuckling the belt as I kiss her neck.
We don’t talk. She gets my jeans off with an urgency, and I’m so hard I could fucking rip through these boxer briefs right here if I moved wrong.
She grips my cock with both hands, working me over the fabric. I palm her breasts, kissing her lips again, tongue in her mouth.
“You want to get fucked tonight, Brynn?” I whisper in her ear, gripping her hair hard. “You want me to treat you like a little slut?”
“Please,” she whispers, eyes wide.
“Get on your knees then, little slut.”
She drops down, obeying. I pull off my boxer briefs, big cock in my hand. She stares at it, eyes wide, and I smirk.
“What did you expect?” I ask, stepping up to her. “Open your fucking mouth, little slut.”
She obeys, opening up. There’s a fire in her eyes, anger and desire mingling in a strange and incredible way.
She takes my cock in her mouth, lips wrapping around my shaft. I slide myself deep down her throat and she gags, but doesn’t pull back. She can’t take it all, not quite, and I move backwards.
She takes over, hands on my shaft, stroking me as she sucks. She’s not shy, letting her spit roll down my skin, and it feels so fucking good.
I grab her hair harder. “Look at you, little slut. Sucking my cock like you love it.”
She moans with my dick in her mouth.
“You do love it, don’t you? Down on your knees for me, my big dick in your goddamn throat. I want to see you gag again for me, little slut.”
She moves down, obedient, willing. She gags, pulls back, goes deep, gags again. I groan. It feels so fucking good.
I pull her back and lean forward. I kiss her as she strokes my shaft some more.
I pull her to her feet. She wants it dirty, she wants it rough. I know what she needs.
I push her over to the counter, turning her around. I pull her hair back and kiss her over her shoulder as I hike her skirt up over her hips.
Sure enough, no fucking panties.
She’s dripping wet as I force her legs open and tease her clit with my fingers. I tease her from behind, kissing her, pulling her hair. She writhes against me, wiggling her hips.
She wants my big dick. She wants it right now.
“Be patient,” I whisper in her ear.
“Fuck patient,” she says back.
I slap her ass, hard. “You don’t talk back to me, little slut.”
She gasps, eyes wide. “Sean,” she breathes.
“That’s right. You want to be a slut for me? You better learn to fucking obey. I want a nice, quiet, dirty little slut.” I spank her ass again, harder this time. She gasps.
I drop to my knees, spread her ass open, and tongue her.
She groans, gripping the counter.
I slap her ass again as my tongue moves around her, licking every inch. She groans, pleasure mixing with pain.
Salty and sweet. It’s what she needs right now.
I spank her ass again and find her clit. Tonguing it, I eat her from behind, licking every inch, tasting every inch.
God damn, I love this girl. I love her taste, her smell, the way she moans. I love it all and need it all. She drives me absolutely insane.
I could eat this pussy for hours. I could eat it for years. But that’s not what she’s here for.
I stand up and slap her ass before pulling her top off. I squeeze her breasts, teasing her nipples. She gasps, groans, kisses me again.
I grab her hair and tease her tight little cunt with my dick.
“Tell me you want me to fuck you,” I whisper in her ear.
“Fuck me, Sean,” she says.
“Say you’re a slut for me. Tell me how wet you are.”
“I’m a slut,” she groans. “I’m so fucking wet. Please, fuck me.”
I press myself inside of her. She gasps from the size of me, and I move slowly deeper. She wasn’t lying, she is fucking soaking wet as I slip easily deeper and deeper.
She takes my big cock and clearly wants more. I grab her hips and start to fuck her, spreading her legs nice and wide.
She looks over her shoulder at me, eyes burning with passion as my cock pushes deeper, fucking her harder, rougher.
I slap her ass. It’s starting to turn a satisfying red.
I fuck her harder, gripping her tits, squeezing her nipples. I pull her hair as my cock plunges deeper inside.
She feels so fucking good. God damn, her pussy is so tight, and I’m just tearing her apart. She’s gasping, moaning, back arching, taking my big dick deep inside her.
I thrust harder, pulling her hair. “You feel so fucking good,” I whisper. “God damn, you really are the perfect little slut for me. You came here just to get fucked nice and rough, and I’m going to give you what you want.”
I fuck her harder, grabbing her tits, not holding back. She groans and rolls her hips, pushing back against me.
I can barely stand it. I slap her ass and step back. I can see sweat starting to roll down her flawless skin as she spins around to face me, hair messed up, mouth hanging open.
I grab her and drag her over to my couch. She pushes me down and straddles me. I cup her ass and squeeze it tight, spreading her wide, as she slowly sinks back down my shaft.
“Fuck, girl,” I whisper. I lick her tits, biting her nipple, and kiss her neck. “You feel so fucking good.”
She groans and starts to ride me. I hold her ass, spanking her when she needs it. She rides me faster, gripping the back of the couch.
I start to thrust into her, matching her rhythm. I fuck her faster, deeper, ripping into her tight pussy. I groan as she rolls her hips, riding me nice and deep.
I kiss her lips, biting her. She gasps. I grab her hair and fuck her fast, thrusting up inside. I lo
ve the way her breasts bounce with each hard thrust.
She rolls her hips, pushing me back. We lock eyes and in that moment, I see something I didn’t expect.
It’s desire, it’s pleasure, but it’s also… need.
Something intense, something more than just pure animal physicality.
She rides me faster, hips rolling. Her moans are louder, deeper. I know she’s close, and I am too. I can feel it buzzing, ready to explode inside her tight cunt.
“Fucking hell, little slut. Go ahead, come on my big dick.” I groan, thrust faster.
She gasps, arches her back. I fuck her, slap her ass, and she comes. It’s intense, her whole body shaking, eyes rolled up, every inch of her exposed and shaking.
I fuck her through it. I grip her ass and hold it, spreading it wide, before I come harder inside of her.
Just as she’s finishing, I come. I gasp, groan, filling her. She moans along with me, riding still, coaxing every little drop from my big cock.
When we’re finished, we’re both panting and sweating. It’s been way longer than I thought. I lost track of time completely.
We stay on that couch together for a while, not speaking. Finally, she gets up. “Bathroom?” she asks, almost shy.
I show her the way. She grabs her stuff, and when she comes back out, she’s dressed again.
I frown. “You don’t have to leave.”
She shakes her head and kisses me quickly. “Sorry,” she says.
I nod once. I’m not about to beg her to stay, even if that’s what I want.
She walks to the door. She looks back at me, but doesn’t say anything.
She leaves without another word.
I sigh, sitting back down on the couch. I’m still buzzing with her.
I don’t know what that was. But if that’s how she treats people she really hates, well, I hope she keeps fucking hating me.
10
Brynn
I manage to make it into the office the next day, still buzzing with Sean.
It’s almost like a sickness. I can feel him inside of me, almost like he’s lodged in my throat.
Maybe sickness isn’t fair. It’s more like an obsession.
I sit down at my desk, boot up my computer, and pretend to get work done. Really, I’m just killing time before I have to head over to the practice facility.
My boss doesn’t bother me, and I don’t bother him. I think he knows he overstepped yesterday, and hopefully he’s going to give me a little break. At least, I think that’s how this is going to go down.
Either that, or he’s going to fire me as soon as he can.
I want to say that I don’t care, that I’m glad I stood up to that sexist asshole, but that’s not true. I’m honestly freaking terrified of losing this job.
For all the problems I’ve had, all the issues I’ve gone through, this is my dream. Hundreds of people would love to take my job. They’d love to write about football for a freaking living. I know it’s a dream, it’s so incredibly lucky, and I am thankful.
That doesn’t mean I’ll roll over for dickheads. But I definitely don’t want to get fired.
I’m nervously jostling my leg. When twelve rolls around, I hurry out to my car and head down to the Chainsaws facility. My boss doesn’t say anything when I pass his office, and I feel relieved when I’m out in the open air.
I get there around the same time everyone else does. It’s always a madhouse here around practice time.
“There’s the kid now,” barks a reporter from CNN, a local named Mikey. “Hey, kid, how’s it going?”
I glare at him. “I’m not a kid.”
Mikey grins. He’s got white hair, the whitest I’ve ever seen, cut close. His eyes are startlingly blue and his face is deeply wrinkled, the face of a man that’s been smoking his whole life.
“Sure you are, kid,” he says, grinning. “What do you think of their chances this weekend, by the way?”
“They’ll win,” I say, crossing my arms. “Or maybe they won’t.”
Mikey laughs. Jeb, the sports radio guy, shakes his head.
“You’re so vague, Brynn,” he grunts at me. “You’re the perfect commentator. You gotta get out from this newspaper business, start bullshitting live.”
“Like you do?” I ask him.
He grins. “Exactly. I’ll hire you part-time if you want.”
“Stay far away,” Mikey warns. “This asshole is about the least professional guy in the game.”
“Believe me, I know,” I say.
Jeb laughs. “You two are just a bunch of pansies, you know that? You cry every time I say something inappropriate.”
“Which is basically constantly,” I say.
The guys laugh again and I wave as I head over to the entrance. I have to sign in and get my pass, which goes smoothly. I glance around at the other people, most of them reporters. I recognize the bulk of the guys standing around, setting up cameras, getting in a last minute cigarette, bitching on the phone, basically acting like the assholes they all are.
Maybe that’s too harsh. I mean, they’re acting like the veteran reporters they all are. Which is the same thing as an asshole.
I guess I’ll be an asshole too, one day. If I’m lucky and my boss doesn’t fire me.
“Okay, people!” Robby, the second in command of the Chainsaws, although he’s technically Coach Wood’s assistant, steps out the front doors and raises his hands. “It’s time to head inside. Be orderly! Take it easy!”
Robby does this every practice. He herds the reporters down to the field. They call it the stampede, which is pretty accurate. They all think we don’t know what they say, but we do. It’s just that, we agree.
As I start to file in with all the others, Robby catches my eye.
“Brynn,” he says. “Come with me.”
I hesitate. I’ve never been singled out by Robby before.
“Uh, excuse me,” I mumble, pushing through the guys. I head over to Robby and stand out of the way of the flow of people. “What can I do for you?”
He frowns at me. “Coach wants a word with you.”
“Coach Wood wants to talk to me?” I blink, surprised. He’s never requested a private meeting with me before.
Heck, as far as I can tell, he’s never requested a private meeting with anyone.
My heart starts beating fast. What if he knows what I was doing last night?
There’s no way Wood knows I was riding his QB’s cock late into the night. There’s no way he knows I was down on my knees, sucking off Sean like I can’t get enough of him, which apparently I can’t.
There’s just no way.
“Come on,” Robby says. “Come with me.”
We go inside through another door and I follow him through the halls. I feel like a kid going to the principal’s office, like I’m in trouble or something. It’s mostly empty though, since practice is just letting out now and most people are out on the field.
Robby takes me through to a back room. He knocks once on the door and we step inside.
Coach Wood is sitting at a basic conference room table with a bunch of papers spread out in front of him. I recognize some of the stuff on the pages: plays drawn up, stats of opposing teams and players, that sort of thing.
He gathers the papers up as I enter and shoves it all into a folder.
“Coach,” I say, and we shake hands.
“Brynn, it’s nice to finally meet you.”
I resist the urge to scream and run away. “Your assistant said you wanted a word with me.”
Wood looks at Robby, nods, and the younger man leaves the room. He turns back to me and smiles.
“How the hell do you know so much about my quarterback’s arm?”
I slowly sink down into a chair, trying to decide how to answer. Coach Wood is an imposing man, a big guy, an ex-player himself. He’s handsome, really handsome, in that older guy kind of way.
Except I’m too nervous to think about anything other than Sean.
>
I let out a breath. “We’ve been talking,” I say finally.
He smiles. “I’ve gathered.”
“I don’t know what else to tell you.”
He sighs and leans back in his chair. He crosses his arms and watches me carefully. “The thing is, Brynn,” he says slowly, “Sean isn’t supposed to talk to you. He isn’t supposed to tell you anything at all, honestly. And yet he keeps doing it. Why?”
I cock my head and frown. “Ask him that.”
“I tried. He doesn’t tell me.”
I spread my hands out in front of me. “I don’t know what to say then.”
Wood grunts a little. “I figured. The thing is, Brynn, I don’t need you.”
“Excuse me?”
“Sorry, that was a little harsh. Let me rephrase. I don’t care about you.”
I blink, surprised. “Oh. Okay.”
“I care about my football team a great deal. I care about Sean. I don’t need you getting in his head with whatever it is you’re doing, do you understand?”
Anger flashes through me. “Are you accusing me of something?”
He laughs softly. “No, not at all. Despite what people say, I don’t think you’re sleeping with him. And if you are, I don’t really care. You’re both adults.”
I clench my jaw. “So why the accusation?”
“It’s not really an accusation rather than a statement of facts. I don’t want Sean to get distracted. I don’t want the information you’ve been writing about to be public. So I need to do something about both of those problems.”
“And I’m the problem?”
“Bingo.” He sighs. “Look, you’re a good writer. You’re probably a nice person. I don’t want to be a dick here.”
“Too late for that,” I grumble.
He laughs softly. “Okay, fair enough. Here’s the thing, though. I can ban you from practices.”
I chew my lip. “You wouldn’t do that.”
“I would, but I don’t want to. I know your job depends on you being able to get access to my players. You need to do your job, and I need to do mine. So let’s make a deal, okay?”
I sit back and stare at him. Wood smiles at me with this really calm expression. I want to reach across the table and slap him…
