Seven Deadly Sinners

by Dark Angel

With his hands cupping my ass, he makes me bounce up and down on his cock, his rock hard biceps glistening with sweat as he holds me. I rock my hips back and forth too, relishing the feeling of his cock rolling over my folds and piercing me with the fury of an exploding star.

  I buck my hips harder and harder, both my hands running through his hair and disheveling it. I let my legs ease up their hold, and I move them slightly lower, right over his ass. Still with his cock in me, he goes down to his knees and, like a leopard during heat, I claw at his pectorals and push him down to the ground. I grab his hands and take them to my breasts as I start grinding against him, bucking my hips furiously while never allowing his cock to slide more than an inch out of my pussy.

  I throw my head back and close my eyes, savoring the moment while Colt squeezes hard on my nipples. Taking a deep breath, I lean into him, long locks of hair falling down my shoulders, and he raises his head towards me; I lower myself even more, allowing him to wrap his lips around one aching nipple of mine. He sucks tenderly, nibbling at it with the right amount of harshness. It seems that Colt can even make an art out of nipple-sucking - God not only gave him athletic skills, he actually made him his own gift to women. And what a gift

  I bounce up and down, my buttocks slapping on his thighs over and over again, the sound of flesh on flesh making me purr with delight. I raise my knees then, planting the sole of my feet on the floor by his side, squatting down on top of him as the tip of his cock presses against my G-spot. I jump on top of him in a fever, drops of sweat running down my back.

  With a lazy smile on my lips, I look into his eyes.

  “Let’s take this to the bedroom,” I merely say, getting up and allowing his cock to slide out of me. I turn my back to him and, swaying my hips almost too lewdly as I go, I walk across the living room and into the corridor. The door to my bedroom is open, so I simple wink at him in a “come and get me” fashion and step inside the room. I don’t know why, but I want Colt to fuck me in the same places Ethan did. Call it a whim, call it whatever you want - it feels wrong, and that just makes it so damn right.

  I don’t bother with the bed, though. I simply face the wall, planting my hands there and jutting my ass back, waiting for Colt to come into the room. I don’t have to wait long - two seconds after I assume my stance, he barges into the room, his hard cock still glistening with my juices. In two wide steps he’s on me, swatting my ass with the back of his hand. He slides his long fingers under my buttocks, caressing the crest of my wet pussy and getting it ready for the final play. I can’t wait for his game-winning thrusts to completely demolish me and send me spinning down into oblivion.

  Colt grabs his cock and, after pushing its fat head under my ass and against my pussy, he hooks his fingers on my hips.

  One thrust. Just one thrust and he has me screaming like a banshee. He pierced me so fast and so harshly that I felt long flames of a blinding fire travel up from my pussy towards the base of my skull. My skin is all prickled, my body shuddering out of control.

  He fucks me hard, there’s no other way to put it. He fucks me like every woman should be fucked, at least once in a lifetime. I don’t know for how long he does it - time seems like such a petty concept when someone is fucking you like this - but by the time I come to my senses, it feels like all of my muscles are being prickled by thousands of small needles of intense electrifying pleasure.

  “Fuck!” I shout out, my body convulsing as I come hard. Body, mind, soul - everything in me has been obliterated by Colt’s relentless cock. Hell, I want nothing more than to let myself fall to the floor and collapse from exhaustion; but I have a responsibility: I can’t let a man that has fucked me like this to get out of my penthouse with a complaint lodged between his lips. No way.

  I stand up, his cock sliding out of me in a single movement, and turn to him. I don’t even give him a second: before he knows it, I’m on my knees, my lips wrapped once again around his cock. I move my head as fast as I can, my tongue savoring the taste of my own pussy, matching that rhythm with the stroking of my hand.

  It doesn’t take long.

  He grabs my head harshly, the muscles in his body bulging as he grunts hard, the sound of it almost like a threat. I pull back out fast, getting ready for what’s about to come - and I mean that pretty literally.

  He cums like a fountain, semen gushing out of him in an endless torrent. I open my mouth wide, allowing thick strands of it to fall straight on my tongue, coating it with that salty and manly flavor of his. I look straight into his eyes, enjoying his look of pure delight as his cock keeps twitching hard in his hand, his white juice now splattering all over my face and tits.

  With his teeth gritted, he keeps holding his cock while it gives its final spasms. When it’s over, he lets go of his still hard member and looks at me with a grin on his lips.

  “Seems like you really know how to use that thing,” I tell him, nodding at his cock. Colt already has an ego big enough, though, and I don’t want to add to it. Well, there’s nothing better than a bit of truth to help keep someone like that in check. “Just like Ethan.”

  “I must have really fucked your brains out,” he laughs, “for you to be comparing me to him.”

  Maybe it’s just my imagination, but I almost think I saw his cock twitch when I mentioned Ethan. Could it be…? Whatever’s going on between these two, it’s more than rivalry.

  Either way, these two are something else entirely. They are a force of nature - you can try to tame them, but you better know what you're getting yourself into. Lucky for me, I know exactly what I'm doing. You don't get to own a team like the New York Nailers if you’re not tough and smart enough. That's why I can fuck the best two players in the league and still keep everyone reigned in. That’s me, Julianna Heaton.

  I get to my feet then, turning my back to Colt. I can see a light flashing fast in the building next to my own, almost as if someone is snapping pictures. Paparazzi? Fuck, can’t these guys ever have enough? Either way, I have no way of knowing… And even if it’s the goddamn paparazzi, who the hell cares?

  “I’m going to have a shower. Feel free to leave,” I tell Colt offhandedly. I know I’m pissing him off, and I’m doing that deliberately. Has Colt ever had any woman dismiss him like that? I bet he hasn’t. And that’s exactly why I do it - oh, I just know he won’t be able to take me off his head for the next few days.

  “Are you fucking serious?”

  “I’m always fucking serious… babe,” I say with a wink. I reach down and see my black lace thong on the floor.

  “Here,” I say picking up at the sopping wet fabric and tossing it to him. “Souvenir.”

  I step inside my private bathroom and lock the door, the sound of the lock turning pretty much cutting the conversation short.

  I have to be honest, I wouldn’t mind if he stayed longer… But I just can’t let him so close, so fast. People are fucked up, and too much trust always ends up biting you in the ass. Better like this.

  A few minutes after, I hear the door to my penthouse slam shut as Colt leaves, and I step inside the shower, the scalding water lapping at my skin and washing away all the sweat and cum.

  Colt Stackford, Ethan Blake. In just one week, these two guys have completely taken my body and mind by assault. Now, you might think I’m torn between the two of them… But I never really liked hard choices... I’m pretty greedy, you know?

  I want it all.

  SportsNation

  SportsNation Highlights

  Hello, and welcome to SportsNation Highlights. It's Monday and I'm your host for the evening, Lauren Valderrama. With me, we have today our special guest, Larry Summers, once special counsel to the Prince of St. Albans, Anders Blaine. Larry has recently opened up his public relations firm, Summers Consulting, which deals with athletes, celebrities, and the issues that they face.

  Lauren: Larry, so what do you think of the latest development in the saga of the New York Nailers?

  Larry (shrugging): I honestly don't
think that on the face of it, it’s that big of a deal. But remember, that's if you look at it as an isolated incident. Most likely the public would gossip about it for a day or two, but then News of the Times would move onto another story...

  Lauren: That's right. I mean, a man is leaving a woman's apartment.

  Cut to video:

  Silent footage of Colt. He is outside Julianna's door. It's evening and his clothing is disheveled as he walks out. He reaches into his pants and pulls out a pair of black lace panties. He brings them to his nose and smells deeply. The door opens up as he’s about to walk away and Julianna emerges. She says something and he rushes over and kisses her. She seems to be saying something, trying to explain but he stops her with a kiss and grabs her ass. Her robe falls open and the camera partially catches the side of her bare breast.

  The two part, and she says something and smiles wickedly at him, and rubs her hand on his crotch. The two laugh and exchange a few words before he twirls the pair of panties and walks to the elevator. Julianna watches for a few moments before closing the door.

  Cut back to Lauren:

  Lauren: That video started appearing on the internet around 6 pm this evening and the news organizations around the country have been abuzz with activity.

  Larry: That's right Pamela. It's important to remember that by itself, this isn't that damning. It's not like Colt Stackford has a wife and kids. It's not like Julianna Heaton is breaking up any marriage. But...

  Lauren: What's the but?

  Larry: But, taken into consideration that it clearly indicates that Colt was in an intimate encounter with Julianna and prior to Sunday's game the gossip columns were ablaze with the drone video of Julianna and Ethan Blake, this one is going to do more than turn a few heads.

  Lauren: What's wrong with a woman going out and sowing some wild oats of her own though, Larry?

  Larry: There's nothing wrong with that. But from an image perspective, if Julianna Heaton were my client today, I'd be telling her that she is going to have an image problem with the general media. It's ironic that the wider population may excuse her sexual proclivities, but the media is going to latch onto this like it's a wild hyena and not let go until the next story breaks.

  Lauren: Julianna didn't look like she was worried there much about anything, did it? I mean, she seems to have rushed to the door to say goodbye before he left. It’s almost as if she’s fighting the urge to care for him.

  Larry: It actually didn't at all. And I have to hand it to her, she's always been a ball-buster. Wait, can I say ball-buster on TV?

  Lauren (rolling her eyes): You just did. But that's beyond the point. What would you advise her to do?

  Larry: I'd advise her to send put me on special retainer because the metaphorical poo is going to start hitting the fan. And not just for her, but quite possible for Colt and Ethan. Both having been seen with her in just a matter of a few days. Can you imagine with anyone else, but with these two, and their intense rivalry over the last decade and half, what kind of story that makes for our scandal-obsessed media? They might start running polls on CNN as to which man the public prefers her to be with. It's a foregone conclusion that for the next several news cycle's Julianna, Colt, and Ethan may have to move into convents and monasteries if they want any private life to remain.

  Lauren: And there you have it - from the man who was responsible for rescuing Prince Sin from his legal troubles. Thank you, Larry Summers.

  Stay tuned for our next segment, analyzing the lace in the panties that Julianna handed to Colt Stackford. Is the Queen of the NFL shopping at La Perla or Victoria's Secret? And then afterwards, have you joined the hottest new author, Alexis Angel’s mailing list yet? You may want to when you find out what she has cooked up for her readers.

  Cut to commercial.

  Ethan

  "Now you've really lost your fucking mind," Colt says, anger flashing in his eyes. "I got that game ball for being the MVP, and I think you're forgetting that." I watched him as he spoke. Yes, that's Colt for you. Some things never change. It's annoying how arrogant he can be. He is blinded by pride, but I'm not about to let this one go.

  "So my three sacks don't count?" I ask. "You played well in that game, don't get me wrong—but Julianna gave you that ball to even the score."

  "What fucking score?"

  "Come on. You know as well as I do. I knew you could be thick headed, but I thought you were smarter than this. Do I really have to spell it out for you?" I asked.

  We were standing in the New York Nailers' luxury skybox. Besides Colt's raised voice, the room was especially quiet. The windows overlooked an empty football field, and the recessed lighting in the ceilings cast an almost muted orange glow, making the room feel even more hushed. During game days, this room was packed with high roller spectators vying for a good seat, but today, Colt and I had the room just to ourselves. After practice on most days, they put out a spread for the players. I usually skip it – but decided to stop in today towards the end. That’s when I ran into Colt. And one thing led to another, like it always does with us, and here we are.

  Two large, round mahogany tables sat in the center, topped with a spread of food—an assortment of fruit, soft cheeses that looked like brie and camembert, toasted French breads, and thinly sliced prosciutto—sliced so thin they were almost see through. I grabbed a slice of the cured ham, balanced it on top of a hard piece of bread, and took a bite. The crunch of the bread was louder than I had expected. I chewed carefully before responding to Colt.

  "She's the owner of this franchise. Don't you think she's trying to keep things fair?" I ask. It's clear to me that I'll never be able to get through to Colt. I'd like to hit him. I really would. I have an overwhelming urge to knock some sense into him, but I'm trying to take the high road. I can't do anything that would jeopardize my chances of making it on this team. I'm not going to let him bring me down. I take a sip of water to try to quell the fiery rage building inside of me.

  "You're fucking jealous, Ethan. I can see it written all over your face. You can't keep riding my coattails. You've done it long enough—both on and off the field."

  It was a good thing I drank that water. Now I really wanted to hit him. I had to blink back the heat that was building behind my eyes. I balled my fists almost involuntarily.

  "Why do you care so much?" I ask through gritted teeth. "You can have any girl—and you do! You've slept with just about every woman from here to Miami to Los Angeles and every city in between, so why her?"

  "She's a good fuck, what can I say,” Colt says this with a casual shrug of his shoulders, but I can read the forced indifference in his body language.

  "You're a bastard. Have you ever stopped to think that maybe I have a deep connection with this woman—that I might actually love her?"

  Colt laughs. "Are you fucking kidding me, Ethan? What is this, elementary school? You think you have a connection with every woman who so much as smiles at you. You're more naïve than I thought. She's way too much woman for you. Besides, with the way we fucked, there's no way you have the kind of connection with her that you think you do. You should have heard her scream."

  That was it. I throw my bottle of water to the ground, and a few drops hit Colt in the face. I advance closer to him, my heart thumping in my chest. Why do I keep letting Colt Stackford get under my skin like this?

  "Don't talk about her like that!” I growl. “You want to know something? You're so mixed up, I almost feel sorry for you. A grown man like you doesn't even know the difference between sex and love."

  "You don't know shit about me!" Colt yells. "And if you think she's in love with you, you're an even bigger fucking idiot than I thought." His normally warm, brown eyes darken, like a cave holding frightening secrets. I can see his nostrils flare, and I think he’s going to try to hit me, but he holds back. We stand there in silence for a moment, and I suddenly feel my cock get hard. Why was this happening? Was it the adrenaline, or something else? But just as he advances
closer, the door opens.

  There, standing in the doorway is Julianna. She looks stunning and my pulse quickened. She’s wearing a smoking hot, black mini dress that hugged her tight curves. The top section of the dress is lacey and revealed her creamy white skin underneath. It also has a deep, wide V in the front of the exposed mounds of her perfect breasts. If she’s trying to make a statement, it’s working. I feel my cock twitch.

  She looks at both of us. "This room feels awfully tense. What's wrong, boys?"

  Colt and I look at each other. No one wants to volunteer to speak first, but Colt finally says, "This fucking guy can't accept defeat." He was pointing a finger in my direction.

  "Get over yourselves," Julianna says. "You're both great players."

  Colt and I don't know what to say. She isn't the kind of woman you argued with. She has a commanding presence, and we are her captive audience. But then I speak up, "Look, we know that you've slept with both of us—I mean, the whole world knows now. And we wanted you to choose. It's either me or him."

  "Yes, I've fucked you both," she says dismissively, "And I can honestly say that both of you were amazingly delicious. You've intensified my appetite, and I'm feeling downright ravenous."

  "Choose," Colt demands, not bothering to listen.

  "Choose what?" she asks, as if she didn't remember what we were talking about.

  "One of us," I say – surprised that I have a moment of agreement with Colt.

  "I mean, the choice is obvious, isn't it?” Colt asks. “Ethan is outmatched here. It's better to break his poor, bleeding heart now."

  "How can anyone choose such a deeply flawed person such as yourself?" I shoot back. I hate Colt. I really do. The nerve of this idiot. It took every ounce of my patience to not hit him and shut him up for good. Who did he think he was?