by Dark Angel
He slaps my ass hard enough for me to moan and bite my lower lip; I half-expect him to smack me again, but the next thing I feel is his thick glans pressing against my pussy. I push my ass backwards by instinct and he buries his cock in me to the hilt.
This time, there’s nothing gentle about it. There’s just unbridled lust, a savage desire to fuck me senseless - which is exactly what he does. He starts to thrust at me like a ferocious beast, each movement of his drawing a high-pitched scream out of my lips. Have I ever been fucked like this? Oh, I doubt it. I doubt it very much. But then again, I doubt Ethan has ever had a woman like me.
“Harder!” I tell him. “Harder, Ethan!” He has already pushed me to the limits, but I want to go beyond that. By the time we’re done, I want to be utter and completely spent.
And that moment is coming really soon.
Each thrust of his makes my body tense up, pent up energy pooling on my extremities and aching to be set free. I grit my teeth, holding on for dear life as he keeps his relentless pace.
“Don’t stop!” I moan, bucking my ass back at him, his thighs slapping hard on my buttocks. Maybe it’s because I told him to, or maybe he just can’t help himself - either way, instead of stopping he doubles his efforts.
He pistons into me mercilessly, both our bodies tensing up as a coiled spring. I’m bunching up the sheets, clawing at the mattress like a wild animal, when that final wave of devastation hits me. I collapse, my body going limp and shaking at the same time. My God, is this what Heaven feels like? There’s a sweet pulsing inside of me, sparks of electricity waking parts inside of my mind I didn’t even know existed. Maybe this is what it means to “cum your brains out”.
At the first spasm of his cock, he pulls out of me swiftly and his hand squeezes hard on my ass cheek as I hear him growl.
I turn over onto my back. He’s going to cum and I don’t want to miss that.
“Cum on me, Ethan,” I command. “Come on my tits.”
I’m entranced as I feel his warm cum gush out and hit my chest. I moan as the warmness of his semen coats my skin, his cock spraying all over my tits and tummy. He’s cumming like a firehose as I bare my chest to his spasming member.
He’s groaning as he looks at me with a sated look, holding his cock as it keeps squirting thick ropes of cum all over my breasts and stomach. I’ve never seen a man cum so much, my God
I give him my best grin as he finishes, his cock still twitching in his hand. He lays down next to me, as I take a finger and scoop up some of his juice that hangs from my nipple.
Then I get a deliciously wicked idea. I look up at him as he props himself on an elbow looking at me.
“Come here, Ethan,” I say, taking his head in my hand, I pull him closer to me. At first he doesn’t understand, but I move his face toward my tits. My tits covered in his cum.
“Feed me, Ethan,” I tell him, my eyes looking at him.
He looks at me, and his eyes gleam with the delicious wickedness of the thought.
He brings his face closer and sticks out his tongue, scooping a large bit of his own semen on his tongue. I close my eyes at what he’s doing to me as his face come up to mine. I open my mouth and we kiss, his cum moving from his mouth to my mine. I swap his juices with him as our tongues dance.
He takes a finger and scoops more from my chest. I disengage from his mouth and use my tongue to lick his finger before kissing him again.
When we’re done, I see his cock is hard all over again.
He’s collapsed on the bed, not yet exhausted, but taking a breath.
I come up to him, as and his eyes follow me as I turn to him and caress his chest with the tip of my fingers.
“Touchdown,” I whisper into his ear.
He turns to me, an easy smile on his lips. The smile of a champion.
“I told you I wouldn’t let you down.”
SportsNation
SportsNation Highlights
Hello, and welcome to SportsNation. I’m your host for the evening, Pamela Cruchelow. My guest tonight is former Quarterback for the Miami MILF’s, Anderson Crocker.
We begin today’s highlight roundup with shocking new breaking news. That’s right. You hear it first here at SportsNation and we have incontrovertible video footage showing star defensive end Ethan Blake engaged in - are you ready for this - sexual relations with the team owner, Julianna Heaton.
Cut to grainy and shaky camera shot of Julianna and Ethan having sex on her bed. Julianna is bending forward on her hands and knees doggiestyle and Ethan is entering her from behind. The tips of Julianna’s breasts are blurred out and a large blur obscures Ethan’s cock.
Video footage from The News of the Times confirms that that is, in fact, Ethan Blake and Julianna Heaton. In a separate press conference following the revelation of the sex tape, the newspaper confirmed that they had placed spies outside on the ground floor of Julianna’s building and upon seeing Ethan Blake go upstairs, a drone was sent from the newspaper’s building in Midtown Manhattan towards the Ms. Heaton’s Columbus Circle.
The revelation of a sexual relationship adds another twist in what is becoming the NFL’s most media-scrutinized team. Julianna, as we all know, is the youngest NFL team owner in League history. She’s also the first woman. And as everyone who’s ever dealt with her can attest, she doesn't take any crap from anyone.
Pamela (turning to Anderson): Anderson, this is bad news for the Nailers, right?
Anderson: That’s right. As the son of the former head coach, Julianna has made waves in the short time she’s owned the NFL team, not afraid to speak up for herself or exercise her power when she felt she needed to. This is something that could bring the wrath of the Commissioner down on the head of either Ethan or Julianna. Remember what he said after the fight on your show. That man is tired of having the League embarrassed by its players. This would be the first time that the offender is an owner though.
Pamela: Anderson, I think if anyone could give Colt and Ethan a run for their money though, it would be Julianna, don’t you? I mean, she defines the term “sexy” and “bad girl” all in one package. She’s unafraid, unapologetic, and sometimes even intimidating.
Anderson: I think she’s very intimidating. As a former NFL player, let me tell you she’s got more balls than so many other head coaches or team owners in the League that I’ve ever experienced. She’s a force of nature and she knows it.
Pamela: What would be your advice to the two of them at this point then, Anderson?
Anderson (with a deep sigh): My advice right now would be to take a deep breath. This is just sex between consenting adults, but still, at the end of the day, it’s a player and an owner. At a time when the Nailers are trying to determine whether to keep Ethan or Colt due to their salary cap restrictions, it’s not a good time to be distracted. And when you have the Commissioner of the league threatening to punish embarrassing behavior, you better hope there aren’t any more of these videos surfacing. It could snowball into something really big. So it’s a bit of a grey area right now but treading carefully is definitely the way to go.
Pamela: Thank you, Anderson.
Up next, we’ll analyze the new passing game of the Denver Donkeys and determine what they’re going to bring to the field as they take on the New York Nailers this Sunday.
Colt
“And we’re getting details that an ex-boyfriend of beleaguered NFL team owner, Julianna Heaton will be on CNN tomorrow, discussing his relationship with her and what he thinks she must be going through right now in light of the recent sex tape of her and Ethan Blake…”
I fucking curse to myself hearing this shit. Having to hear that motherfucker’s name over and over again on the television as having bagged Julianna is seriously driving me fucking insane.
I’m in the locker room getting geared up for war. We’re taking on the Denver Donkey’s tonight and it’s probably going to be the highest ratings the NFL has ever had. Why? Because of this non-stop media coverage of E
than fucking Julianna.
It might be good for the fucking ratings, but it’s driving me up the fucking wall. Every single mention, every single video teaser is another fucking testament to how Ethan once again stole something that’s fucking mine.
Like he’s done his whole fucking life, that fucker couldn't let well enough alone. He got jealous of my success. He let that fucking jealousy turn him into something hateful and he took what should have rightfully been mine.
“Check out her fucking tits, man,” DeShawn, the tight end is showing one of the Wide Receivers. Yep. That’s Julianna on his phone. In all her fucking glory. The team’s been trading comments and jerking off to her video since it came out, most likely.
And why wouldn't they? She’s a fucking hot as shit woman. Fantastic fucking ass. Amazing tits. The most fucking sinful face - made even more sinful because it looks so sweet and innocent. Granted, the video itself is only about 45 seconds of usable footage, but those 45 seconds have probably unleashed twenty gallons of fucking cum from this team alone. Never mind America.
But I’m not supposed to be sitting here jerking off to her. I was supposed to be there fucking her, not Ethan.
I finish suiting up and look at myself in my locker mirror.
And that’s when I see him.
Ethan Blake. Calm as a motherfucking cucumber. All padded up and walking from one end of the locker room towards the coach’s office. People giving him nods of respect. Others giving him high-fives. Trading fucking banter. That motherfucking cunt.
I slam my locker door shut. Hard.
“You okay, bro?” DeShawn asks, looking over to me. As if he fucking cares, drooling over Julianna’s perfect fucking titties.
“I’m fine,” I say through clenched teeth. DeShawn sees me raging and follows my gaze towards the target. Ethan fucking Blake. He takes a step closer. “Let it go, dude,” he says to me. “Ain’t worth the trouble. Not for a bitch.”
And you know what? For any other fucking girl, I wouldn't be so fucking worked up. If I wanted to, I could go out and fuck a new girl every fucking hour till the day I fucking died. I wouldn’t care if Ethan took one from me. It would be like taking a fucking piece of candy from a Hershey store. They hand that shit out for free as samples.
But this wasn’t any fucking woman. This was Julianna Heaton. And I don't know why I was feeling like this time he fucking crossed a line. That he took something more than just a fuck from me.
I don’t know why my cock was getting so fucking hard every time I watched that fucking video.
Yes, okay? You fucking happy. I downloaded that shit as soon as I heard about it on SportsNation. I must have probably been one of the first people to find that shit. I got hard. Even as I got fucking angry and jealous as fuck, my 12-inch cock literally exploded as I stroked it - I was that fucking horny watching the two of them.
DeShawn is probably going to say something but the coach comes out at that moment. That fucker Ethan is nowhere to be found. He must have left the office and went back to his side of the locker room at some point as I let my mind wander.
“Okay, listen up everyone,” the coach says, summoning us to the center. I roll my fucking eyes as the coach drones on and on. I’m the fucking champion at what I do. The fucking king of the battlefield we’re about to enter. I don't need to listen to his spiel about teamwork. I have a better idea than just doing whole teamwork routine. Want to know what it is?
Listen to everything I say. Do it exactly as I fucking say. And don’t argue.
I guarantee, we’ll end up winning.
I don’t know if that’s what Coach Karl ended up saying because everyone cheers at that point. I join in - you can’t help but get caught up in the moment. We’re going to war. And while I may be the absolute fucking best at the QB1 role, I’m going to need my support team. And that’s all of these guys.
If only one of them would realize he’s not the same fucking king of the hill as me.
But that’s not going to happen today. Today everyone’s patting him on the back and looking up at the fucker because he fucked the owner. Today he’s the fucking hero.
I’ll fucking show him. I’ll show all of them.
* * *
By any definition of the word, what happens on the field that night between the New York Nailers and the Denver Donkey’s is a fucking blowout.
In fact, we even win the fucking coin toss, electing to receive the ball. First fucking ten seconds of the game, we run that shit to the end zone and put 6 points on the board. We end up successfully converting for two points and just like that Ethan’s on the field.
He fucking sacks their Quarterback three times.
Not once. Not twice. But three fucking times. It’s like they can see what’s coming but they can’t do a goddamn thing to stop it.
In the end, their QB throws the ball too fast and Ethan literally jumps up and intercepts it.
I’m watching his body work - the muscles working in sheer tandem with each other. Each movement of his is efficient and action is optimized for peak perfection. Fuck, there are certain things about this game that fucking turn me on, and watching the pinnacle of human achievement on the field by anyone - even if it is by a fucker like Ethan Blake - is literally one of them.
The other is Julianna.
Ethan’s interception means I’m back on the field. This is the first time I’ve taken the field and I’m determined to leave my mark.
“I’m going to smoke your ass, motherfucker!” the defensive tackle for the Donkeys is yelling at me as I start the snap count. I brush it aside. I know the guy. His name is Marvin Jomas. I’ve gone up against him before. I know exactly who he is.
How?
No time to tell you now, because I snap the ball and all of a sudden I’m in the zone. Everything else falls out and my eagle eyes are looking for my receivers as they shoot down the field. My left tackle is doing his job but he’s not doing it perfectly because Marvin is all of a sudden through. The Donkeys are fucking pissed at the three back to back sacks and interception we just gave them and they’re looking to take it out on me.
Marvin twists and turns his body and I see a wide receiver maybe three seconds from being open out near the 30-yard line. But I don’t have three fucking seconds. Marvin is only maybe a second away.
Literally, by the time you read this, Marvin is already fucking on me. I can smell his fucking hot breath. I can see the eye of the fucking tiger in his eyes. I can feel the adrenaline going through my veins like a fucking drug.
He reaches his arms around to grab me.
But I’ve done this rodeo too many fucking times. I literally do what no QB in the world can ever do. I take two steps back, then to the side and then forward. And I do it so fucking fast that Marvin has no idea where I fucking went. He’s trying to grab me and sees me from his front while I’m at his side. It’s like instinct. I’m letting my legs move themselves - letting each muscle work itself and strain and push and take my body as close to God as it can get.
I’m in nirvana.
And that’s where I calmly stick my foot out, and before Marvin can even understand what happened, he’s tripping over. He tries real hard to get his balance back, but he was moving too fast, and with too much mass. I could recover, but Marvin’s muscles aren’t as well tuned to make such small course corrections.
He lands on the ground.
Three seconds are up and I see the wide receiver running with his hands out. I pull my arm back, take note of his trajectory and let the ball fucking fly.
The football shoots out and over the heads of the everyone on the field. It sails and for one second there’s peace.
Until it lands in the arms of my receiver.
He’s so fucking far down the field that in another five seconds he prances to the end zone.
I look over at Marvin, the defensive tackle that’s going to try to redeem himself. It’s time to make sure he realizes who the fucking boss is.
“Oh yeah
, Marvin,” I say to him as my breath comes out in ragged gasps. “I fucked your wife.”
He looks at me like I could do better in the insult game. But I’m not done.
“Like literally man, you were on the road and we had a Thursday game, and I came over and fucked your wife.”
His nostrils flare like a bull and he snorts.
“Careful what you do amigo, you don't want to get fucking ejected,” I say to him as I start getting ready to run to the side-line. “And just in case you don’t believe me, that poplar tree outside your house could use some pruning.”
Boom. His fucking face falls. He knows he can’t touch me on the field. And he must know that if he even tried I’d knock him back down to Division III football I’d hit him so fucking hard. All he can do is go back to his side
By the end of the first quarter we’re up 28 to 7. By halftime, we’ve got this shit locked down. The Donkeys didn’t score. By the end of the game, I’ve taken this team to a 35 -14 win over the Denver Donkeys.
I throw my head back in adrenaline.
Lights. Camera. Flash.
Glory.
Football.
This is what I fucking live for.
* * *
“Fantastic team effort, everyone!” Coach Karl says to everyone in the locker room. I don’t mind. We fucking won. Not just won, we destroyed the Donkeys. In a fashion that they’re not likely to forget.
“Game ball,” the Coach says, and people quiet down. This is where the team pays homage to the one person who displayed more talent, skill, and fucking heart than everyone else. Without who we wouldn’t be celebrating. Everyone looks to see who the coach is going to name but I already know. “Game ball goes to…”
He doesn’t get a chance to finish because that’s the exact moment when Julianna comes in.
“I’ll take that, Karl,” she says, walking into the locker room without batting an eye. It’s over a hundred fucking men. Large, sweaty, muscled men in various stages of undress. And she’s a fucking smoking hot single woman with a fucking tight black dress on that’s showing off her legs, tits, and ass.
