Jock Hard

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Jock Hard Page 43

by Ney, Sara


  We make quick work of brushing our teeth; Teddy washes her face, uses the toilet.

  Then, when we’re standing next to the bed and she’s fully clothed, it’s suddenly so fucking awkward and the only thing to do is help her out of them. Because I’m a gentleman, and that’s what we fucking do.

  The T-shirt comes first.

  I lift it over her head, letting it drop to the floor. “Is this okay?”

  “Yes,” she whispers.

  The lights are on, so I can see every inch of her skin. Her high breasts in the white cotton bra she’s got on. Nothing lace, nothing too sexy. Just Teddy.

  I leave the bra, and together we go for the waistband of her black leggings.

  Push them down, over her hips until she’s able to step out of them.

  Practical, white cotton panties.

  No thong. No hip-huggers. No flirty cheeksters. Sweet.

  Sensible.

  She turns and hops up into bed. Crawls to the center and burrows beneath the covers. Yanks them clear up to her chin, only her shoulders and bra straps visible.

  It makes me want to tunnel under the blankets and do dirty, nasty shit to her.

  I leave the bedside lamp on. Climb in.

  Lie flat on my back, arms behind my head, staring at the ceiling.

  “Thanks for coming today.” And later.

  “Thanks for inviting me. It was an education, that’s for sure.” I roll over to face her.

  “Did you have fun?”

  “Yeah—I met Renee and Miranda.”

  Who? “Who are they?”

  “Um, Brian’s and Thomas’s girlfriends.”

  “Oh, those two. Yeah, they’re decent. I see them around a lot. They come to almost every game, even the away ones.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well they were super helpful, telling me the rules—I didn’t know how the game was played.”

  “But it was fun?”

  “It was. Lots of blood, though, which I thought was weird.”

  I laugh, chuckling deep in my chest. “That’s what I love about it.”

  Teddy rolls her eyes, shifting onto her side to face me and mimicking my pose.

  We’re inches apart now, her cleavage a thing of beauty, plump and right there in my fucking face. I want to trail a finger between her boobs but don’t have the guts.

  Instead, Teddy surprises me by trailing a finger between mine—my pecs—running the tip down my flat stomach on a clear path to my happy trail.

  It makes my dick twitch.

  I give her a lazy smile and let her touch me.

  It’s killing me to lie here, unflinching, just observing her.

  “You…” she begins shyly. “You’re beautiful.”

  “So are you.”

  Teddy ducks her head, blushing down into the valley of her tits. “No I’m not.”

  “Yes you are.” I reach for her then, hand on her waist beneath the covers. “You’re gorgeous.”

  I would never say that to someone unless I meant it.

  “I can’t believe I’m lying here not wearing any clothes.” She laughs nervously. “This is so unlike me.”

  “Is it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you want to put your clothes back on?” Another laugh.

  “No.”

  Good.

  “I want…” Teddy clears her throat. “I want you to kiss me.”

  So I do.

  We gravitate toward one another, our lips softly meeting, and I’m conscious of the fact that my fucking mustache is partially preventing me from feeling her mouth.

  I trimmed my beard back this afternoon, but it’s still too long, making it impossible for Teddy to stroke the skin on my jaw, my chin, my neck.

  Robs me of the sensitive spots I used to love having sucked and nipped by delicate lips.

  Our mouths open and fuse, tongues touching—tentatively at first then hungrily as the erection grows in my boxers.

  “Are you going to dry hump me again?” She grins.

  “Do you want me to?”

  “I don’t know, but I don’t think I’m ready to have sex with you.”

  “You don’t have to have sex with me—that’s not why I wanted you to spend the night. I just wanted to spend the night with you. That’s all.”

  Because maybe I’m finally sick of being alone all the damn time.

  Maybe it’s time to let someone else in, someone I didn’t know I needed until I met Teddy.

  Funny how the universe works, isn’t it? Shit drops on you when you’re staring at the sky, wondering what to do with your life, and sometimes it’s just what you fucking need, right when you need it.

  Teddy is that something I needed.

  “I think I want to…” Her voice cuts off. “I don’t know how to even say this. It’s so embarrassing.”

  “What? You can tell me.”

  “I’ve never given a blowjob before.”

  Excuse me, say what now?

  “I’m all ears.”

  The laugh erupting from her belly has butterflies dancing in mine.

  “Would you knock it off? I’m nervous. I mean, I want to, I just don’t know how.”

  “Uh…everyone knows how.” You put it in your mouth— preferably the entire thing—and suck. Obviously I don’t say that out loud—I don’t want her to think I’m a complete douchebag—but how hard can blowing a guy be? “I don’t think there is such a thing as a bad blowjob, unless you bite down on it.”

  “What!”

  “I don’t think there is such a thing as a bad—”

  “No, I heard you just fine. I just can’t believe you said it. Have you ever heard of a guy getting his…you know…bitten?”

  “No. Thank God.” Jesus Christ. I don’t want to picture anyone’s teeth biting my dick and never should have said anything. The visual makes me shudder. “No to teeth.”

  “But what if it doesn’t fit properly—like it’s too big and I can’t help but scrape it with my teeth?”

  “Guess we’ll have to see, won’t we?”

  That makes her blush good and hard, and now I’m good and hard, cock throbbing with anticipation.

  I wait for her to move first, lying still, not wanting to spook her.

  Seconds pass before she makes up her mind to go for it, peeling back the blanket covering my waist. Peers at my boner, tentatively studying it before going in for the kill. Fingertip dragging along the elastic of my boxer briefs.

  Dragging them down jussttt far enough to expose the tip of my cock. Brushes it with her thumb, circling the little hole at the top.

  Oh Jesus, she’s going to slowly kill me.

  “I think this might be my favorite part.”

  “Which part?”

  “This.” The pad of her forefingers buffs the tip, spreading the clear liquid that’s appeared. “The head. It’s…sexy.”

  Uh huh.

  “Sometimes, when I’m lying in bed at night, I watch small clips of porn, know what I mean?” Her finger teases me. “And once I saw this couple doing it, and he never put it all the way in.”

  Oh my god.

  “I think I want to do that.”

  Yeah—we’re totally fucking doing that. We’re going to play a little game of just the tip.

  “It looks like it feels good.”

  Fuck yeah it would feel good.

  Teddy looks at my face, and I realize I haven’t uttered a single goddamn word since she started touching my cock.

  “Does this feel okay? You look…”

  “Yes.” My breath hitches when she connects her thumb and forefinger, cuffing the head of my dick. Leisurely moves up and down.

  “I could do this all night,” she muses lazily.

  Please don’t—I will die if you do. The ripples of pleasure from that singular, tiny motion would surely slowly kill me.

  My boxers get pushed down farther, and I lift my hips so she can slide them all the way down. Kick them off wh
en they hit my ankles, send them flying toward who gives a shit.

  After that, Teddy doesn’t talk, only making sounds from the back of her throat. Sounds like appreciation and pleasure— the same ones I’m making, because I have no self-control left.

  Both my hands clutch at the pillow under my head, fisting it while Teddy plays with my cock and balls, and I’m so hard I want to come now.

  It won’t take me long when—if—she finally puts me in her mouth. It’ll be the world’s shortest blowjob, done and over within minutes, I fucking know it.

  My hips buck when she licks it, testing the feel of it on her tongue. I blow out a puff of pent-up breath, my lungs contracting more rapidly by the second.

  It sounds like I can’t catch my breath. I sound like I’m…About to beg her to, “Suck it. God, please put it in your mouth. Please.”

  New to the game but still a woman with wiles, Teddy cocks an eyebrow, an air of triumph on her face. She knows she is in control and she likes it.

  “You want me to suck it?”

  “Yes.”

  “You want me to…put this in my mouth?” She licks it again.

  My mouth forms the word yes, but no sounds actually leave my lips.

  My balls throb. My chest burns.

  And when she takes my dick and puts it between her lips, my entire body clenches from the pleasure of it.

  Jesus, it’s been so long since anyone has blown me, I’d almost forgotten how good it feels. How much I enjoy the sight of a woman’s head down by my pelvis and the view of just the top of her head as she bobs it up and down.

  My fingers grip the pillow tighter so I don’t reach for Teddy’s hair, yank it a little like I want to—that might scare the shit out of her—or push her head down so I impale her mouth.

  Mouth.

  Hand.

  Lips. Tongue.

  All of them working together, and goddamn if it isn’t perfect.

  * * *

  “Kip?”

  “Hmm?” I trace her belly button with my forefinger, round and round and round. The same belly button I licked with my tongue an hour ago before spreading her legs and eating her out.

  Mmm mmm good. My new favorite meal.

  “There was something I wanted to ask you—feel free to say no.”

  “That’s not exactly a ringing endorsement of this something, is it?”

  “Sorry. I’m not good at asking people for favors.”

  Favors.

  I brace myself, waiting for her to want what all the girls before her wanted:

  Kip, babe, can I borrow some cash?

  Kip, can you get us tickets to a concert?

  Kip, can we go to St. Bart’s for spring break and stay at your parents’ beach house?

  My “What?” comes out clipped and shorter than I planned— but damn, I wish she’d just spit the request out already so I can say no, shove her out of my bed, and never see her again.

  “I have this dinner—a banquet next weekend, and, um…I’m receiving that grant I was telling you about?”

  The stiff muscles in my body relax a fraction. “Yeah?”

  “I was wondering if you wanted to come with me.” Teddy clears her throat. “I bought two tickets.”

  She bought two tickets.

  I twist my torso, pulling her in. Relief flooding my body. “You want me to be your date for a banquet?”

  “It’s a fundraiser for the engineering department, but…I mean, yes—only if you’re not doing anything Saturday night.”

  I do have a match that day, but it’s early, and I’d have plenty of time to take her to a banquet.

  “I’m free Saturday night.”

  “So you can go?”

  “I can go.” In fact, I’d love to.

  * * *

  Me: So I kind of have a problem.

  Ronnie: I KNEW IT! I knew you had a small penis—I’ve told everyone and they never believe me ’cause you’re so tall.

  Me: Would you be serious for one second?

  Ronnie: Oh crap—you’re being serious? Well shit. Okay— go. What do you need?

  Me: Remember Teddy?

  Ronnie: Obviously. I’ve even been creeping on her on social media. You’re welcome, by the way, for my superior stalking skills

  Me: FOR WHAT??

  Ronnie: I had to make sure she was normal—I also looked up her court records too, just in case things with the two of you took a turn for the best.

  Me: You are unbelievable.

  Ronnie: So did they? Take a turn for the best, or the worst?

  Me: She asked me to a thing. A benefit.

  Ronnie: A benefit??? Ugh, SOCIAL CLIMBER. I freaking KNEW IT!!!!! Run. RUN KIPLING!

  Me: Knock it off, it’s not that kind of benefit. It’s for the engineering department, she’s receiving a grant.

  Ronnie: Oh. Well, don’t I feel foolish **awkward laugh** You were saying?

  Me: My question is, what do I do? Do I buy a suit or what? It’s on campus, so it’s not formal, but I still think I should look nice, but I don’t have anything dressy with me here.

  Ronnie: Do you at least have a polo shirt or something?

  Me: Yeah, I think so.

  Ronnie: There’s your answer then. Wear that, trim that beard up, and do something with your hair, and you won’t have to go buy anything.

  Me: You think I should shave?

  Ronnie: Uhhhh, I mean…only if you want to. You only just met the girl, and it’s taken you two years to grow that monstrosity. BUT…

  Me: But?

  Ronnie: It would be a huge gesture. If you like her.

  Me: So I should shave, and wear a polo shirt, and not worry about a suit.

  Ronnie: Right.

  Me: Okay. I can manage that.

  Ronnie: Wait—you’re seriously going to shave??? Holy shit.

  Ronnie: You LIKE THIS GIRL?????? For real. No bullshitting.

  Me: Have you been listening to a thing I said?

  Ronnie: You have said NOTHING. You’ve had her over TWICE and you’ve hung out on Fridays and THAT IS ALL YOU’VE GIVEN ME. You throw NO BONES.

  Me: Yes, I fucking like her.

  Ronnie: Mom is going to freak. You know that, right?

  Me: Mom isn’t going to find out yet, VERONICA.

  Ronnie: Fine…but when it’s time to tell her, I get to leak the information. Deal?

  Me: Deal.

  THIRD SATURDAY

  “She cleans up nice and makes me want to bang her.”

  TEDDY

  “What’s with the dress?” Mariah is leaned against the door to the bathroom, studying my reflection in the mirror as I apply another coat of mascara.

  Makeup I’d asked her to help me with an hour ago.

  She said she was too busy, yet here she is, standing there in yoga pants, hair tossed up into a messy top knot, clearly not doing anything productive.

  She could have helped me.

  “I have that banquet tonight. The one where I’m receiving my grant.”

  “A scholarship thing?” I can see her eyes roaming up and down my back. “It looks like you have date.”

  I draw in a breath, not sure how much I want to tell her about Kip, or how she’ll react. She knows nothing; not since the night she whispered in his ear and propositioned him.

  He still hasn’t told me what she said, but what else could it possibly have been?

  “It’s a bit of both, I guess?”

  “Are you going with someone?” She’s interested now, studying her nails in that way she does when she’s pretending not to care. Feigning disinterest when she’s insatiably curious. It’s such a bitchy thing to do. Why can’t she be happy for me?

  “Yes. I’m going with someone.” I purposely omit details, knowing it’s going to drive her crazy not knowing who my date it.

  One of her hand flops over, wrist holding it out. “Well? Are you going to tell me who it is, or what?”

  “You know Kip Carmichael?”

  “Yes.”
<
br />   “He’s taking me.” Or I’m taking him. Whichever.

  “Sasquatch is your date?”

  “Yes.”

  If sarcasm could form a laugh, Mariah pulls it off. “A guy named Sasquatch is taking you to your engineering banquet. Nice one, Teddy. Way to raise your expectations.”

  The applicator wand of black mascara pauses over my lashes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  No one has anything bad to say about Kip, other than a few guys who think he’s an asshole—so I don’t know why Mariah has that look of disgust on her face.

  Or is it something else?

  “You sound…” Jealous. Bitter. “Petty.”

  “I’m not being petty. Like I care who your date it. It’s one night; it’s not like you’re actually dating the guy.”

  I say nothing, instead, resume my primp session by uncapping a tube of mauve lip tint.

  “Unless you are.” She’s standing up straight now, arms crossed, a slight glare across her brow. “Are you dating him, Teddy?”

  “I think that’s what I’d call it, yeah. I’m dating him.”

  “Since when?”

  “Since…” I count back a few weekends, trying to figure out the timeline. “A few weeks.”

  “A few weeks! What the hell, why didn’t you say anything?”

  I laugh, careful not to smudge my lipstick. “Why didn’t I say anything? Are you serious? You haven’t noticed I haven’t been home the past three weekends? I could have been dead somewhere—you never even text me anymore.”

  “If I had known you were screwing Kip Carmichael, I probably would have been more worried.”

  I turn to face her, aghast. “And why is that?”

  “Because. He’s deplorable.”

  Deplorable? I laugh again. “I can’t believe you right now. What do you have to be jealous of?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “Then why would you say that about my boyfriend?”

  “So he’s your boyfriend now?” Mariah’s own laugher comes out cold. “Two seconds ago you were just dating.”

  “Who are you?” I whisper. “I have done nothing but be a good friend. This entire year, you’ve been horrible—honestly, Mariah, you care more about parties and guys than you do about me.”

  “That’s not true.”

 

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