12 Days

by Dark Angel

  Ethan slaps me across the ass as he thrusts, and then runs his fingers over my crack. With my eyes shut tight, I let fireworks go off behind my eyelids as he parts my ass cheeks and brushes his thumb against my crack, gently rubbing it against my anus. God, I can’t believe I’m letting him do it. But I am, and I love it. I don’t know how this even happened, but these two men can do whatever they want to me.

  They are mine, yes. But I’m also theirs.

  I moan over Colt’s cock as Ethan slides his finger inside my ass, a bonfire of ecstasy inside of me. My mouth, my pussy, my ass - everything in me is being ravaged by them, and I fucking love it. There’s no other way to put it.

  I take Colt’s cock out of my mouth as my body trembles in ecstasy once again, a pure avalanche of destructive pleasure taking me by assault. I never even knew I could survive pleasure such as this. Fuck, I didn’t even know it was possible to feel something as good as this!

  Screaming through my gritted teeth, I push my ass back against Ethan as I move my hand up and down Colt’s cock as fast as I can. I use my last strengths to give these men the prize they deserve, sweat dripping down my forehead as I rock my body back and forth.

  “Come for me,” I moan, looking at Colt straight in the eyes. It doesn’t take more than that - just these three words and I feel his cock twitching hard against my fingers. I launch myself forwards, taking him in my mouth in the exact moment cum gushes out of him in a torrent. He spasms over my tongue, his semen filling me up as Ethan grabs my ass hard and pierces me with a violent final thrust. I shiver, the twitching of Ethan’s cock inside my pussy almost too much for me to bear.

  Both my mouth and pussy are drenched in cum, and I can’t think of anything that could possibly be better than this. I remain still as both men empty themselves inside of me, their juices coating my insides eagerly. Each spasm of their cock sends ripples through my body, each and every one of my muscles twitching in a feverish response.

  As I feel Ethan pulling out of me, I allow Colt’s cock to slide out of my mouth as well. I sit up on the table, my legs dangling over the edge as my heart beats rapidly inside of my chest, and swallow. Colt’s saltiness burns down my throat as I feel Ethan’s cum dripping down my legs, and I can’t help but grin in pure delight

  This… This was absolute perfection.

  I close my eyes, wanting to shut the real world out. I know that when the season ends, only one of them will be able to stay. But that’s exactly the kind of reality I don’t want to be thinking off. No. Right now, all I want to do is be pleasure’s sinful victim.

  SportsNation

  SportsNation Highlights.

  Welcome to SportsNation Highlights. I'm your host for today, Courtney Kinder. With me, I have noted sports commentator and sports reporter for the News of the Times, AJ Ledoux.

  We're talking today about the upcoming Monday game between the New York Nailers and the San Francisco Stepbrothers.

  Courtney (turning to AJ): AJ, what can the Nailers expect for Monday's game, and do you think that the recent troubles that they've been having over the last two weeks are going to be any sort of impediment to their performance on the field?

  AJ: Well, Courtney, that's a good question. A lot of times, a team's off-field issues find a way to end up on the field as well. And the New York Nailers have certainly had their share of issues. I mean, come on, we have probably the most talented offensive player in the NFL get into a literal fight with the most talented defensive player in the league. On this show. That alone would be enough to destroy careers for a lot of players.

  Courtney: But not Ethan Blake and Colt Stackford.

  AJ (shaking his head): No. Those two were good enough that they were able to trade their reputations and that still carried enough weight that a team like the Nailers, that had been struggling for their first few games, saw a quick opportunity to maybe make the playoffs. It was a smart move by Julianna Heaton and I have to give her credit for that.

  Courtney: But you haven't been her biggest fan to date.

  AJ (shaking his head but smiling): Well, let's just say that I don't think she belongs in the NFL at all.

  Courtney: Wow. You kiss your wife with that mouth?

  AJ: No, no. I didn't mean it like that. It's just that when you take on something as important and central as owning an NFL team, you thrust yourself into the public eye. And the public will want to see someone who upholds the moral fiber that they expect in women - who are supposed to be the better halves of men.

  Courtney: Let me see if I'm understanding this...

  AJ: I'll make it really clear Courtney. I don't have a problem with a woman running a football team. I just think if she's going to be a role model to other women, then she needs to figure out how to have a less salacious private life. Because like it or not, Julianna Heaton is a role model to my daughter. And I don't want her to grow up and be a slut.

  Courtney: Now wait just a second!

  AJ (holding up his hand): No, let me finish. I have no objection to her behavior at all. As a private citizen she's free to do whatever she wants. But the moment she puts herself under the microscope, she needs to place her own life on hold and uphold what society tells her is the moral code that we live by.

  Courtney: So, coming back to the initial question. Do you think the actions that we've witnessed with Colt, Ethan, and Julianna will negatively impact their play on Monday against the Stepbrothers in San Francisco?

  Colt

  Monday night. America’s night. Lights. Cameras. Crowds.

  Football.

  I love every single fucking minute of this game.

  But tonight, I seriously consider maybe finding a new line of fucking work.

  The clock was winding and I snap the ball, heading back, looking for my receivers.

  Too late. The Stepbrothers Defense has been on us like nothing else all night and broke past my right tackle.

  I have maybe two seconds. But before I can do anything I see fucking stars. Pain shoots through my entire fucking body and I fall towards the ground.

  My brain registers what happens without words. Someone must have gotten through and come up my blind side.

  They got around the left tackle.

  I land on the ground, trying to keep the football. I can’t let go of the football.

  I fail.

  It leaves my hands and bounces off.

  That’s probably the only thing that saves my life. There’s a pileup of guys that fall on the ground, chasing the fucking ball.

  But I’m past caring at this point. I take a few deep breaths, moving my legs and arms to see if everything is working. It’s good.

  The pain subsides. Nothing broken. Nothing torn.

  I stand up and realize that that we’ve turned over the ball.

  Fucking again.

  With a sigh, I run off the field as Ethan leads the defense out.

  This has got to be like the ninth time we’ve traded spots on the field.

  Ethan hasn’t spoken to me since the night he and I both had Julianna. In fact, he up and left before we could do anything more. Like a fucking light switch went off after he came.

  It’s not like Julianna and I kept at it. We lay there for a little bit, kissing and shit, before we realized that we were pretty exposed in all this. With the way things were going with our sex lives, it wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility that some fucker with a camera somewhere had taken a picture of us. I don't even know where or how. But we decided it was probably best to call it a fucking night.

  We left the stadium in separate cars. Going to separate beds.

  When all my body wanted to do was to be near her. To hold onto her and never let her go.

  But it wasn’t just fucking Julianna that I wanted.

  I couldn't stop thinking of Ethan.

  That fucker who’d been around my whole life. The one who I’d competed with the since we were kids - who always had been trying to steal my thunder. I couldn’t stop thinking of his fu
cking body.

  Of his goddamn cock.

  I mean, don't fucking look at me like that, okay?

  I’m not fucking gay. I know I’m not gay.

  I like fucking women too much. All fucking shapes and sizes. I’m an equal opportunity fuck machine.

  I guess equal opportunity even extends to gender too.

  I mean, it’s not like I want to jump every fucking guy that I come up to. I’ve seen cocks all my life in the locker room. I bet you were going to think I was going to say ‘the cocker room’ didn’t you?

  But that’s not what I was thinking then.

  Until Ethan and I took Julianna together.

  Fuck, that was so fucking hot. It was so fucking dirty that even now, as I’m exhausted and reaching the side-lines, my cock is fucking twitching as I think of kissing Julianna’s tits and running them all over my face while Ethan rubbed his cock all over her ass cheeks.

  Fuck. Now is not the best time.

  Especially the way we’ve been playing.

  I know what you’re going to say - I’m supposed to be the fucking best, right?

  But I can’t be the best if I’m supposed to be constantly on the field. That’s what the defense is for. To keep the other team’s offense from scoring.

  But it also gives me a chance to breathe. Sure, if we have a turnover or shut them down, that’s one thing.

  But when we keep having to go back on the field over and over again.

  When we keep getting called in because the ball turned over too soon, me and my offensive line get fucking exhausted.

  It’s one thing if we were going over because our defense was shutting them down.

  But we were allowing them to score.

  By the time I head back out in the middle of the third quarter, we’re losing. The Stepbrothers lead us 36 to 7.

  I’ve thrown three interceptions because I’ve been worn out by the end of the first Quarter.

  Our defense is giving up too much. They’re letting too many things get through.

  What the fuck is Ethan thinking?

  Why is he playing like shit? I can’t keep doing this without him.

  There, I said it, okay? I need the fucker. I can’t do it on my own.

  My heart’s fucking sinking as my offensive line basically crumbles and I have to throw away the ball. Again.

  We barely make it past a minute before we’re out of downs and have to punt the ball again.

  The Stepbrother return it for a touchdown.

  That means I’m back on the field. Fuck.

  I don’t know how much longer I can keep going. Even our second string QB is exhausted.

  * * *

  The water is falling in waves against my body as I close my eyes and point my head up towards the shower head.

  Everybody was mostly silent as the game ended. One of the worse losses in New York Nailers history.

  I know I just came to this team this season, but I’ve grown to think of these men as my brothers. As this team as my fucking family.

  And I feel like I’ve let the team down today.

  Not even Coach Karl has anything to say to us. Maybe that’s the worst feeling of all. That even the coach doesn't want to fucking talk to you because he’s disgusted.

  The shower is definitely cooling me off - calming me down and making me feel a bit more normal. Fuck.

  21 to 7.

  I decide to stay under the water until I feel calmer. Until my brain is focused again. I can’t keep on being distracted by thoughts of Julianna. Thoughts of Ethan.

  The locker room is pretty deserted by the time I get out of the shower. That’s fine with me. Just the way I fucking want it.

  I walk past rows of deserted lockers heading towards mine. Towels, jock straps, socks, helmets, all line the floor. All waiting for the maintenance folks the team hires to come clean up.

  I don’t know why, but I make a turn to go the longer way, seeing if anyone is around.

  And that’s where I run into him.

  Ethan fucking Blake.

  I have my towel on but he’s still naked, putting on deodorant.

  Fuck. The fucking sight of his naked fucking back - muscled and chiseled - makes my cock twitch. What the fuck! I know I’m not gay, but what the fuck is it about this motherfucker that’s getting me fucking hard.

  Hearing movement, Ethan turns towards me.

  Our eyes lock. I stop walking past him and turn towards him.

  “Ethan…” I manage to croak.

  Don’t you fucking get caught up at laughing at me, bro. You know I fucking hate that motherfucker.

  You cannot fucking forget that. I want you to burn that into your brain.

  But the normal Colt Stackford is gone. Instead, my heart is fucking beating a mile a minute.

  Ethan brings his eyes down, not meeting my gaze, “Sorry about the game tonight, Colt…” he begins.

  “It’s okay, man,” I say, not knowing where all this is fucking coming from. I should be skewering his fucking ass right now.

  But I don’t.

  “No,” Ethan says with a deep sigh. “No, it’s not alright.”

  I’m silent as a troubled look goes through his face. “It was my fault. I saw you play and I saw how exhausted you got by the end of the game,” Ethan say. “I couldn’t hold them back. I couldn’t shut them down.”

  Ethan’s shoulders slump.

  My nemesis since I’ve been six years old is defeated. The one kid who was able to always stand up to me when we played peewee football in our small Texas town is broken. The one kid who didn’t care that his father worked for mine on the ranch is now giving me a vacant fucking stare. The one guy in high school who I had to share the MVP award with on our football team. The only other person in the history of our high school who had their jersey retired. The one guy who was good enough for Delta Sigma Rho - the most prestigious secret society at Ole Miss to offer two spots and not one to someone from the football team. The one guy who was drafted with me. Who has played across from me. Who was used with me in tandem by the Dallas Devils to take us to victory time after time after time.

  He’s standing before me now.

  Defeated.

  “I’m so sorry, man,” Ethan says and I can’t bear to see him like this.

  I don’t know why I do what I do and what the fuck I’m doing but I take a couple steps over to him.

  “It’s like my head isn’t in the fucking game,” he says more to himself than to me. “I can’t stop thinking about…”

  He stops himself and I know at that moment that the same thoughts going through in my head - those same thoughts that are distracting me during my game - are wreaking all holy hell in his head also. Except with defense, loss of concentration can destroy a team from its underbelly.

  I know Ethan well enough by now to know that he’s thinking and kicking himself about what we did. He’s not like me. Anything goes with me. But not him. He had a crazy ass dad that fucked up his brain. I gotta bring the motherfucker back before he loses himself in despair.

  Before he starts viewing what happened with the three of us as something bad.

  “Hey,” I say softly and Ethan looks up.

  I’m inches from the dude. I can smell him - his cologne - and I inhale deeply.

  Fuck, this guy pisses me the fuck off.

  He’s everything that I want to be. He’s solid. Stable.

  He doesn’t need to try to be the center of attention. When he walks in the room, he has a fucking gravitas that attracts everything in it to him.

  My hand reaches over and I bring it to his chest.

  Ethan draws a sharp breath and looks at me.

  My eyes meet his and we lock our gazes.

  I’m not breaking this stare. Let’s see if he does.

  Let’s see how far this fucking goes.

  I bring my hand down and trace my finger down his abs before descending to his crotch.

  I can feel his pubes on my hand and in a second, not even ha
ving to look down, I feel his cock.

  Fuck I’m fucking hard.

  I grab his cock in my hand and squeeze it.

  He wanted me to be real? He wanted me to be genuine.

  Let’s make this fucking real.

  Ethan

  Is this really happening? I’m too stunned to say anything. I swallow hard and can feel my breath rising and falling with the movement of my chest. I’m not sure if I’m ready for this. Everything I know to be true about myself is being challenged in this moment, and on top of that, this is Colt Stackford we're talking about—the guy I punched on National television, the guy who can't keep from dipping his dick into every woman who he comes in contact with, the guy who was once voted sexiest man alive by Ladies Who Love magazine.

  And now his hand is wrapped around my cock.

  His large, strong hand is gripped around my shaft with force, and I can feel myself growing hard under his touch. My back is pressed up against the lockers, and I can feel a steel handle in the small of my back, but I don't dare move. "Admit that you fucking want this," Colt says, whispering so as to not draw any unwanted attention.

  I don't know what to say. He's right; my whole body is pulsing with desire and my cock is so hard it feels like it might burst. He smiles. He knows. That bastard could always read me. It was an almost uncanny ability. I feel his grip tighten again, and he slowly pulls on my dick, long, and firm, and slow strokes at first, and then his pace quickening until even my balls are slapping his hand. His hand draws my cock back and forth. My breath catches in my throat. I find myself hardly able to exhale. An almost electric current continues to course down my body, making my cock stiffer than I ever thought possible. He tries to lock his gaze with mine, but I can’t do it. I tilt my head back into the wall of lockers, while his hand keeps a steady rhythm on my shaft.

  There’s a part of my mind that told me to stop all of this, that this was wrong. But if it was wrong, why did it feel so right? It was like I had willingly jumped onto a rollercoaster ride and now it was too late to exit. This ride was in motion and I had to see this through. Did I even want off the ride? I wondered. Colt pushes his hips into mine, and I can feel the strain of his muscles while he increases the intense pace of his tugs on my cock. I can smell his manhood. I can’t lie to myself. I find myself wanting him. I know I can’t last much longer. The desire has built up inside of me, like a soda that’s been shaken. Any minute now, I’m going to explode.