by Abbey Foxx
“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.
I’m going to have to face him at some point. It’s not that I don’t want to, I just need to make sure I’m ready. The man makes me weak at the knees. Just looking at his bulging biceps makes my st
omach flutter and knowing what he’s packing down there, the form of which is impossible to hide even in the baggiest of jeans, makes my pussy physically throb.
Maybe I’m just lying to myself and trying to avoid the inevitable. Maybe I just know that when I see him again, everything will fall into place, and I’ll be unable to resist him. I always wanted to fuck Topher in the locker room but he wouldn’t allow it. Something about mixing sport and sex wasn’t something he felt like he could get along with. I know for a fact that Jasper would not have the same problem. He was caught once, literally with his pants down, fucking the cleaner across his manager’s table, an incident that resulted in a two month salary fine and a three week ban. The story was all over the paper, one of which ran a mock up with someone else’s ass and Jasper’s smiling face crudely photoshopped over the top. We could fuck in the locker room, my father’s office, late night in the middle of the field, against the goal posts, on the ten yard line, chalk dusting up his ass.
But I know I shouldn’t. Shouldn’t is dangerous. Shouldn’t gets everyone into trouble. Jasper hasn’t been the only one phoning either. Topher’s been calling even though I haven’t picked up, sending message after message of apology, even sending flowers, hundreds of them, all of which I’ve gratefully accepted but won’t let sway me.
He can send as many presents as he wants, there is no way in the world I’m going back to him. Hell will freeze over before that happens. I’d say Tigers would win the superbowl, but I don’t want to jinx them not doing it. Every day that passes without him I feel happier and stronger. I feel like an enormous weight has been lifted off my shoulders, a weight that I’ve been carrying around for far too long.
His things are still here, and when the right moment arises, I’ll tell him to come along and pick them up, but until then, I’m happy just to keep him begging. I have to see him at some point, like I have to see Jasper, but at least with Topher, I know exactly where our relationship will go from here. With Jasper, I’m just not as sure how I’ll react when our paths cross.
Topher has been talking about moving on for a long time. He threw that one at me too, like somehow I’ve been in control of his career path.
“I stayed for you.”
I didn’t make Topher stay. He was offered a contract and he accepted it. We weren’t even official then. He’s had every chance to leave, and he’s chosen not to, and besides which, I told him if he wanted to I would have supported him. Dad too. Dad was always willing to forgive Topher, right up until the last time he fucked up. He somehow had a soft spot for the quarterback who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. A tiny dick at that. When Topher used to fuck me, he would barely touch the sides. I had more pleasure fingering myself than sticking that pencil dick up inside me, for all of the twenty seconds he was capable of fucking, but that’s all in the past now, I’m a new girl and I’ve moved on.
He’ll move at the end of the season, if he can find a team to take him. He might even move half way through it if he can’t cope with the pain of not being with me.
Fuck him. I shouldn’t even be thinking about him. I’ve thought about him enough over the last three years and look where it’s got me. Here, single, three years older and no better at all for it. I can’t believe I even said yes to his marriage proposal. I can’t believe I was that dumb.
No, I should be thinking about Jasper instead. That ass, those eyes, the smile that makes me gooey. They won again. I should have been there to support them, but I just couldn’t face seeing him again so soon and not knowing whether I’d be able to control my emotions. I kind of sent him away after we fucked, for the very same reason. I got scared after the moment was over, of enjoying the emotional connection too much. Of depending on the afterwards as much as the act itself.
I watched it on TV, I didn’t even go to the game. The first home game I’ve missed in God knows how long. I expect Topher fucked someone else after it. I hope Jasper didn’t. It was the night he came here so I guess he had me on his mind.
Two wins out of four. 2 for 2. That’s the best start to a season we’ve had for four years. Jasper was the star of the show again even though Topher spent a long time refusing to pass to him. Our English transfer got a touchdown again, rushed a bunch of yards, showed his versatility by playing in two offensive positions, and basically dominated the game from the moment Dad finally decided to bring him on. We won 14-7 against a team that we’ve not beaten for six years. Dad can hardly believe it. He’s still reluctant to sing Jasper’s praises, but he’s coming round little by little. ‘Dominant’, ‘forceful’, and ‘completely untouchable’ were some of the words used to describe his performance. ‘Is this Englishman able to pull off the impossible dream?’ was the headline from another paper.
Impossible dream. I’ve seen weird things happen over the years in this sport, but I’ve never seen anyone like Jasper. I don’t think anyone has. I can understand why people don’t like him. He’s badly behaved, he’s foul mouthed, he’s covered in tattoos that don’t have much meaning, but he’s dedicated and talented and he cares more about winning than people think.
Dad didn’t want him here in the first place, but he’s going to realize soon that he can’t do without him. I wonder if I am too.
A week and a half without him is about as hard to handle as the same time away from my team. I’ve already told Dad I’ll be back in for tomorrow, that my bout of flu has cleared up, I’m back to full strength and I’m thinking clearly, even though none of that is true.
I miss Jasper, which is a dumb thing to say. I miss his cheeky smile, how prominent the veins that run down his forearms are, his shit jokes and his massive cock. I think I miss him even more than I realize and maybe it’s that more than anything else that’s pushing me back towards him.
The team can run for a while without me, but I know Dad needs me too. The team need me, perhaps even Jasper needs me. If his appearance here is anything to go by, maybe it’s true that he does.
We’ll see. I’m expecting the same as always and I wouldn’t want it any other way. Cockiness, arrogance, and inappropriate flirting.
If anything, I’m the one that’s going to be weird. I just hope I’m not too weird. I hope I can hold my own and keep my cool. I hope things are just natural between us, like they always were, and I hope, whatever else happens, that us fucking doesn’t ruin the friendship I feel like we’ve been developing together. I like our meetings in the Irish pub, the looks, the banter, the sexual tension so thick you’d struggle to crack it with a mallet, and I wouldn’t give that up for anything. Alright, I might give it up for another go on that incredible cock of his, but if those two things can happen without me getting hurt, that would be absolutely ideal.
Fuck Jasper and forget about Topher. If Moxlin keep winning this really could be an incredible season. One might not be enough, however, for either the team or me.
I don’t think once is ever enough for anyone with Jasper and as incredible as that fuck was, I know the next one, if it ever comes, will be a hundred times better. Short skirt, huge dick, back of the car, or bottom of the field. I’ll let Jasper decide that. When I’ve realized I can’t resist, I wonder how often we’ll be able to keep ourselves away from each other.
The last thing I want to do is let him know I like him. I know I’ve kind of ballsed that up already by taking him home and showing him my bed, but this little window of avoidance, as difficult as it has been, is definitely going to work in my favor. I can’t undo what we’ve done, I wouldn’t want to, even if I could, but from now on, I’m playing miss super-hard-to-get.
Jasper’s going to have to use his A game if he wants to get me, because right now, this shit is serious. I need to know just how committed he is, to work out exactly how committed I can let myself be too. Jasper’s going to have to work just as hard to get back into my panties, as I am to resist him. Huge cock and undeniable perfection or not, I’ve got to be super careful how I play this.
Dad always told me that good
strategy is the key to winning football games, it just so happens it might be the key to winning over Jasper too. I just hope he’s not been studying his play book too hard.
Ten.
Jasper
The rain has been coming down so hard here it’s been impossible to train properly for the last few days. We’ve got a waterlogged field that looks like a giant swimming pool, and a back up mess that’s so churned up from overuse and poor maintenance, that if you stand in one place for too long you sink down into the earth halfway to your knees. This is apparently normal for Moxlin weather although what isn’t apparently normal is the fact that our training ground, which is also our professional game day field is exposed to the elements. Almost all if not every team in the rest of the AFC and the NFC, college teams, work teams, professionals and amateurs all over America have some kind of roof system in place. A covered field or a way to make one. Moxlin Tigers don’t, and their excuse? Not enough money.
It’s been a crazy couple of weeks. First the wins, which have come as a surprise to everyone but Topher and I, then that shit with Penny, both the fucking awesome fucking and the not so fucking awesome strategic avoidance plan that she put into place afterwards, and now the weather. Honestly, this is worse than England. Every time it looks like it might stop, every time there is a break in the clouds to let a smidgen of blue sky peak through, and we all think it’s safe to finally get out there without risking serious injury, it clouds over again and empties out so much water you begin to wonder where it’s all coming from.
It’s getting me down, but it’s not the only thing either. I’ve been sick with some kind of weird bug that’s got me pining after someone I shouldn’t care about as much as I do. Penny’s got into my head, and she won’t leave me alone, and right now there is nothing I can do about it. She won’t take my calls, she pretends like she’s not at home and she hasn’t been into work for almost ten days. All I get from Harrison is the cold shoulder, and a refusal to talk about it. I guess I can’t blame him either, that day in the parking lot Penny gave him every reason to grumble.
