Offside: A Bad Boy Sports Romance
Page 13
I start slowly, only to savor the truly incredible sensation. There have been few girls in my life who have interested me enough to even consider anything more than just a casual fuck with them, fewer still who have gotten me thinking about the possibilities of a relationship, and hardly anyone who has made me feel what I’m feeling now, which is almost indescribable in its complexity.
This moment, this fuck, this penetration, the way Penny is responding, it’s making me feel like for the first time in my life, I’m not going to be able to control when I come.
Fuck.
I feel like if I’m not careful I might just explode inside her before I’ve even taken her to the edge. I’m pushing, but Penny’s so tight and responsive it feels like she’s pulling too, drawing me inside her and making me hers.
Demanding it of me.
Some people think missionary is boring. Those people don’t have a fucking clue how sex works. Missionary gets me deeper than a lot of other positions, we can look at each other from here, I can see what my cock is doing to her pussy and she can feel the weight of me sinking her towards the earth. I love it. That doesn’t mean I won’t change it up, but it doesn’t make me sexually inexperienced either.
“Fuck you?”
Penny looks at me but doesn’t respond. She has one hand on her left tit, squeezing the nipple tightly, the either hovering around her clit, not touching it directly but exciting the area around.
She feels spectacular and I’m even hornier than I realized. This day can’t get much better than this. First I give Moxlin their first win in two seasons, and next Penny throws herself at me. I’ve never felt more on top of my game, and one of them isn’t even mine. Penny shouldn’t be either, to be honest. The boss’s daughter, the quarterback’s ex-fiancee and here I am, the asshole alpha all the way from across the pond, running her through like an Arkansas corn plow.
What the fuck are they going to say when they inevitably find out? I’ll probably get fined again. Might even get banned. If it means this girl is forever on the end of my dick I think I can cope with it.
I hit that pussy so hard Penny begins to bark. She gnashes her teeth like a wild dog, tenses her body, thrusts herself back at me and begins to scream.
“This what you wanted?”
“More.”
“Harder?”
“Deeper.”
My cock is swollen like I’ve never felt before. I’m so hard it’s going to take me all week to soften. I’m going to have to strap it up and wear a sling. I flip her, put her up on top, lie her alongside and even press her against the wall and still she shows no sign of quitting. This is my kind of girl. How am I going to be able to resist a sequel? How is she?
“You carry on like that, I’m going to come.”
“I’ve only just started.”
There’s nothing sexier than making someone come. There’s nothing I like more than seeing that moment when someone loses it completely. Nothing comes close. Not even rugby. You can never really truly know what someone is like until you see them come, their pupils wide, there body open, fully exposed. You’ve got to really trust them to let them see you like that and not everyone is capable of doing so.
This is Penny’s life. Her house, her bedroom, her intimacy. She’s brought me here because she needed to and right now we’re giving each other exactly what we want. Those drinks, the conversations, the flirting and subtext and sexual tension so thick you’d struggle to break through it with an ax, it’s all led to here, this moment, right now, and I can feel us both on the edge of it, about to break out so violently it might rip a hole in the fabric of the world.
Her body tense, baying, her back arched, her legs spread and sunk down. Me behind her, marks on her neck from my bites, our skin sweaty, her hair wrapped twice around my wrist, the other hand on her clit just to push her that little bit further.
“I’m going to come.”
Penny’s words, not mine.
“Come”, I say, pulling her hair back. “Come”, I demand of her.
Shivers, trembles, electric tingles all over my skin. There is no comparison. I have never felt like this before in all of the hundred of times I’ve fucked, with all of the women. Nothing. Not even close. She’s pushed me and willed me and seduced me and made me and taken me and offered herself to me and together we’ve driven our desires home. I’m not a thinker. I’m not a prisoner of my emotions. I’m a fucking rugby player but I’ve never felt so alive, so connected.
I move my hand to wrap it round her waist and pull her even closer, small against me, perfectly formed, we tessellate. This is history in the making. This is the ninety-nine yard pass or whatever the fuck they call it. This is what living is all about. This is taking control, getting what you want, the just rewards.
Fuck.
Penny screams so loudly the windows nearly break. She tries to pull away again, but I won’t let her. Finally, when she realizes there is nothing left for her to do but let it overwhelm her, she gives herself fully into me. I feel her body in my arms tense up like a rod of steel while it works its way through her, before finally she softens to it and lets it in, her body twisting into to me as light as a feather.
“Jesus fucking jesus fuck-.”
It’s so powerful she can barely speak. The curse words spilling out of her mouth like breaths are staggered and barely formed. I’m unable to respond myself. All over my body is a sensation that I’m about to explode. Her pussy muscles are grabbing hold of my cock so tightly I wonder if I’ll ever get it back at all. Without her even controlling them, and as she tumbles around in orgasmic bliss, they convulse around me, opening and contracting in such a way I know it’s going to push me over.
I don’t know whether it’s that specifically that does it, the sensation of her in my arms, the smell, the sound of her voice or a combination of all of those things but as soon as I realize it’s going to happen there is nothing I can do to stop it.
Penny knows too. Without even saying it, I know she can sense it. I know because she opens herself up even further to me, pushing down so I’m that little bit deeper inside.
“Fuck”, is about all I manage.
After that the words are barely recognizable. I come so hard and with such intensity, my knee buckles and I have to tip us both into the bed. I’ve never come like it and if I thought it were possible I’d say that I don’t come once but a bunch of times, one so quickly after the other, I think it’s never going to stop. Winning the world cup, scoring my first try, leading a team to victory, nothing comes close. This is heaven on earth, this is all of my Christmases rolled into one, this is world cup, super bowl, MVP and full field dash all at once and as soon as the sensation begins to subside I know I’m going to have to do everything in my power to make it happen again.
I’m shivering, but I’m not cold. My skin is wet with sweat and Penny has goose pimples covering both of her arms. Her neck is red with my bites and a small purple bruise has already begun to appear. I feel like an animal. I feel like a huge weight has been lifted away from us. She’s still turned away, silent but for the heaviness of her breathing, curled up with me inside her into a kind of foetal ball. I push the hair away from her face and twist it towards me.
“Ok?”
Penny nods. A smile breaks out across her face and she begins to laugh.
“What?”
“Nothing”, she says. “I-. Nothing. That was good.”
“Good?”
“Yeah, you know. Good.”
“Just good?”
“Room for improvement.”
I can’t help but laugh. “You’ll have to be more specific.”
“I’ll be sure to write a full report.”
“Will you give me another go?”
“That is something I’ll have to think very carefully about.”
“Your dad might have something to say.”
Penny’s eyes drop for a moment. “That was a bit irresponsible.”
“He doesn’t tru
st me.”
“I don’t blame him.”
“Hey, you were the one who invited me here.”
“Like you didn’t want to come.”
“Is that the way you’re going to reward me after every match?”
“I’ll have to think about that too.”
“How hard did you think about it this time?”
“Don’t flatter yourself. I was only going to give you a lift home.”
“Couldn’t resist, huh?”
“What can I say, I like a big dick.”
“And here I was thinking you wanted me for my personality.”
“Come on Jasper, let’s be honest. That’s not exactly your best quality. I’ve heard your jokes.”
“Then I guess we better fuck more and speak less.”
“I wouldn’t want to spoil you.”
“No, of course, save that for when I really deserve it.”
Penny twists to the side and I snuggle my way into her.
“Five minutes.”
“Until what?”
“Until you have to leave.”
“Why?”
“Because you shouldn’t even be here.”
“Shouldn’t is what makes this fun.”
“No, shouldn’t is what makes this dangerous and I don’t know if i want to go down that route.”
“Maybe it’s already too late for that.”
“That’s not how this is going to work.”
“How is this going to work?”
“I don’t know, but dangerously is not one of them.”
“Alright, five minutes.”
“Five minutes.”
I pull her into me.
“Even if you change your mind and want it again, in five minutes I’m leaving.”
“If I change my mind and want it again, you won’t be able to resist me.”
“We’ll see.”
“Four minutes and thirty seconds. I hope you know how you’re getting home.”
“I’ll work something out.”
“Impulsive.”
“Spontaneous.”
“Hard.”
“Always.”
“This could get complicated.”
“Then let’s not let it.”
“We might have already missed our chance.”
“We’ll see.”
“Adaptable as well.”
“I’m a man of many talents.”
“Not just a big dick.”
“Hey, I’m a football player now too.”
Penny laughs. “Come on, let’s make the most of these four minutes while they last. You might regret it when they’re gone.”
They are the same seconds, the same minutes, the same hours every day that passes. How is it then, that some minutes seem like a lifetime while others pass by in the blink of an eye? These ones I want to last forever, but they’re gone way before I’m even halfway ready to go.
Nine.
Penny
I’m still dazed. I’m mad at myself for not having been about to resist him, for shouting my intention across the Moxlin Tigers parking lot in earshot of my dad, for letting myself get involved with another man, another player, another alpha male, bad boy when the last one is still so evident all over this apartment. I was going to marry Topher, now I’ve fucked the guy he throws the ball to. I shouldn’t feel bad about it, Topher lied to me, he cheated on me repeatedly, he broke my trust and he fucked me over, but I didn’t want complicated, and complicated is what this is going to be.
Especially because he was such a good fuck. I haven’t come like that in years. To be honest, I don’t think I’ve ever come like that. Sex wasn’t Topher’s best subject, and having someone who knows what they are doing, like the kind of things Jasper did to me, you kind of notice the difference.
My pussy’s still aching. It’s aching because he fucked me so hard and deep and it’s aching because it wants more. I guess I kind of asked for that. Hard and deep was kind of on the cards from the moment I walked up to him in the parking lot, or the airport, or when the first idea of bringing him over here actually came to me.
The trick now is to handle it. Handle the desire, handle him if I can’t. Handle the fallout from my father, from Topher when he inevitably finds out. Handle working with him, watching him train, him watching me watching, and both of us wanting what we know we probably shouldn’t allow ourselves.
One week. It was one week after I kicked Topher out. Three games into the season and I’m fucking the bad boy brit here on a one year contract. I must be out of my mind. This is the man that doesn’t stay with a girl for more than a couple of nights. This is the guy that woke up in someone else’s house two weeks ago, he can’t even remember the name of. Is he going to do that if I deny him what he wants from me? Am I going to be able to protect myself if he does? Those kind of stories spread like wildfire if you don’t need to keep them quiet, and Jasper isn’t exactly the modest type. If I give in to him again, that means we just get closer, the relationship gets deeper, and I risk getting hurt all over again.
One boyfriend and the fucker cheats on me. If that happens again with Jasper, I don’t know whether I’ll be able to put myself back together again. When Topher cheated on me the first time, and he’d given me his stupid fucking excuses for doing so, I forgave him, and then I went to see a therapist. Less than six months later he did the same, this time with a prostitute after a game in Kansas. That one was all over the papers and I became the laughing stock of a team that couldn’t keep the headlines away. I don’t know how many others there were in between, but that initial run of six weeks of therapy turned into a whole year of trying to make this right. I thought he’d changed, but then again, I thought I was in love. It’s incredible how different things are in real life to the perspective you think you have on them. I’m an idealistic, romantic kind of girl. I’m independent, but I’m sensitive too. I know I’m pretty inexperienced when it comes to men, but that doesn’t mean that being cheated on doesn’t hurt. Love shouldn’t hurt, but with Topher it did. He showed me just what he thought of me every time he stepped out with another girl and I’m the idiot for sticking around for so long to let him. That’s why I have no interest at all in letting it happen again. That’s why fucking Jasper is such a bad idea. Why fucking him in the first place is the second most stupid thing I’ve done.
I’m angry with myself, but there’s nothing that can be done now. I just need to do what I’m doing at the moment. Avoid him at all costs. Actually, I’m avoiding Moxlin Tigers at all costs. I’m officially sick and unofficially in hiding until this whole thing settles down, blows over or blows up again in my face because I let it beat me. And believe me, I don’t let things beat me often.
I know feelings for a person don’t go away quickly, I mean, it’s taken a year or more with Topher and it’s still going to take a while longer to detach myself completely from him, so I don’t expect this is going to be easy, especially because I can’t stay hidden for all that long, but I’m going to try as hard as I can to do two things. I know I don’t love Topher anymore. I knew that before Jasper and I even fucked. If I’m honest with myself, truly one hundred percent honest, I knew that after the first time it happened, it’s just taken until the third, fourth or hundredth time for me to really accept it, so the first thing I’m going to do is make sure he knows there is no way we are getting back together. The second thing I’m going to do is work on myself for a while. With Topher and the Tigers, and all the shit with Dad and getting the team winning again, I’ve lost the sense of my own identity. I need to begin to put myself first and think about everything else afterwards. And I don’t mean that in a selfish way, I mean it and a way that everyone else does. There are happy, stable, well balanced people all over this world that treat themselves as though others should treat them and that’s what I need to do for myself. When I’ve got that, and I’m thinking more clearly, and I’ve given myself space and I know I can enjoy what there is to offer without losing myself
again, maybe things will begin to work themselves out into the way they should without me getting hurt.
If that includes Jasper, so be it. If it doesn’t, for whatever reason, then I’m going to be in a better place to accept it. Our friendship, relationship, whatever you want to call it is a month old. I’ve got food in my fridge I’ve had for longer than that so as much as being around him excites me, drives me wild, pushes me to do things I’ve never done before in my life - hello freedom! - I need to be aware of that. I don’t really know him that well, alright, I didn’t know Topher that well either after a three year working and personal relationship, but at least I knew he was planning to stick around. Jasper is English. He loves his country, his culture, his sport. He’s only here because he has to be, and there is no way if he wants to ever return to the life he left behind he’ll allow himself to get too involved. Jasper doesn’t get involved. I know that about him too. He does this. He does what I’ve let him do. He finds girls that he likes, pretty ones usually, gives them the night of their lives and then ducks out when things start getting too emotional. He was all over me as soon as he arrived, about as clear with his intentions from the get go as chalk filtered water from a mountain spring, and I expect I wasn’t the only one to receive his attention.
I expect he usually gets the message too, even if he isn’t the first to drive it home, which is why it’s weird he’s been trying to call me. The Jasper of the English newspapers and VT clips would not be seen to chase up a girl after that very first fuck. That would be embarrassing. That would show weakness, or interest, or lack of emotional control. That’s the job for the girl, to which Jasper might or might not return, depending on whether he’s moved on to the next one already or not, yet twice this week Jasper has been on the phone to see if I’m alright, and once he’s come over to the house, dropped down on to his knees and called at me through the cat flap.
Maybe it’s just because he’s genuinely concerned, maybe he feels like he has unfinished business with me, maybe Topher or my dad have sent him here and maybe, just maybe, he hasn’t moved on to the next just yet.