Coming Off the Bench: A Sports Romance

by Autumn Avery

  Our relationship has come full circle. This is where we met. The first time I saw him, completely naked, his cock hanging in full view for me to see, and that cocky grin on his face. I couldn’t even look at him without blushing. I couldn’t even stand to be around him I was so nervous and so scared. And now here I am, bending over for him, pressed up against the wall of that very same shower and taking that monster cock of his as he has his way with me.

  It’s perfect.

  His thighs slap against my ass. He wants more control, and I feel his hands leave my waist and grab both my wrists. He pulls my arms off the wall and back behind me, holding them like reins as he takes me, pulling me into him with every stroke.

  “Oh – my – God…” I can barely get the words out. If I had to do simple math right now, or even tell someone what my name was, I wouldn’t be able to. My arms are his. My pussy is his. My body is his. I am his. And he knows it.

  “You feel so fucking good,” he growls into my ear. His words excite me. Hearing him talk dirty to me is fucking hot. I want to hear more.

  “Yeah?” I ask him in a voice that says, “Go on.”

  He gets it and pulls me closer. “Your pussy is so fucking tight. I love how you take my cock.”

  “Mmmm,” I moan. It’s almost too much. How can anything be this amazing?

  “I love fucking you. I love it when you cum on my dick. You want to make me cum, Grace?”

  “Yes.” The word slips out of my mouth slowly. He takes the skin of my neck into his mouth and bites me, just enough to hurt a little. I gasp and he snatches a fistful of my hair with his hand.

  “I’m gonna fucking cum,” Tommy tells me. “I’m gonna cum inside of you, Grace. I’m gonna fucking cum—”

  Tommy’s cock flexes inside me as he slams his thighs against my ass. He stops thrusting and I feel his cum spurt inside me. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt and without any warning, I cum too.

  “Fuck! I’m cumming too!” I shout, probably louder than I should in a public bathroom, but I don’t care. My pussy tightens around his cock as he spills his cum into me. Each shot inflames me more. It’s warm and I feel it coating all of me.

  Tommy groans and growls, holding me down on his dick as he fills me with his seed. It’s unbelievable. I never want him to cum anywhere else. He’s mine and I am his. There’s no more question about it.

  “Oh, Tommy!” I gasp. I feel his cum fill me and start to spill out of me and run down the inside of my thigh. He kisses my neck and I turn my head toward his. I reach up and pull his head toward me and bring our lips together. His tongue slides between my lips and I suck eagerly as we both cum together.

  I want to collapse as we start to come down, but Tommy holds me strong. He’s still hard inside me, but he finally pulls out and turns me around to face him. He slides his cock between my legs and gently slides back and forth, slowly, just slightly teasing my clit. I reach down and stroke the tip, but he twitches and pulls back.

  “Sooo sensitive!” He laughs. I smile and grab his cock and squeeze, causing him to jump back and wave a hand at me. “No, no, no, you!”

  Laughing, I wrap my arms around him and kiss him, feeling more of his cum slide out of me.

  “I can feel you dripping out of me,” I tell him, like it’s our little secret.

  “I had to cum in you,” he tells me, as though there was no other option. “I couldn’t help myself.”

  “It felt so fucking good,” I tell him.

  “Are you on the pill?”

  “No,” I tell him. “But I don’t care.” And I really don’t. I’ve made up my mind. Tommy is mine and that’s the end of it. I don’t care what anyone says or thinks. I’m different to him and I know it. The two of us could not be any more different, and maybe that’s what makes us so simpatico.

  He’s this big hulking jock with muscles and charisma that loves sports and parties, and I’m this bookworm virgin – well, ex-virgin – who loves staying home with a warm cup of tea. They do say opposites attract, don’t they?

  “Do you?” I ask him, looking up at him. That’s a very big decision and something to ask a man, but when I see the look on his face, any worry and doubt I would have had is instantly washed away. He shakes his head.

  “No,” he tells me. “I want to be with you, Grace. In every way possible. Wherever life takes us, I will be there with you – every step of the way.”

  25

  Tommy

  Tommy

  * * *

  Three weeks. It’s been three weeks since my ankle injury, and I’ve been limping around the court, taking “jump shots” from within the three-point line and watching everyone else run drills and make layups.

  Slowly but surely, I’ve been getting my strength back. I haven’t had to ice it for a while now and haven’t had my crutches for a week. After coach berated me for a good ten minutes on how if I didn’t use my crutches he wouldn’t play me again, even after I healed, I started using them.

  It felt like admitting defeat, but Grace reminded me that everyone on campus would be rooting for my recovery, not making fun of me. We’ve developed quite a rivalry with New Hampshire and I’m about fucking ready to get back on the court.

  As I sit in the locker room, listening to the scuffle of sneakers and the sound of balls bouncing, I actually feel nervous. My mind is filled with questions.

  What if my ankle hurts again? Do I stop? Do I ride it out? Grit my teeth and bear it? What if it gives out completely and I’m off my feet again for another month? What if I hurt it even more and my entire career goes down the drain?

  I’m all suited up, but am I really ready for this?

  Grace and I have been hard at work on our research project for sociology, which actually ended up not being a complete and utter bore like I thought it would be, and she gave me a kiss before I left for practice today.

  “You’ll be great,” she told me. “Don’t even think about it. The doctor said three weeks, and it’s been three weeks. You’ll be back to kicking ass in no time.”

  I’ve been replaying her words over and over in my mind while I suited up. Joey was psyched to see me back to practice and gave me a big slap on the back to fire me up.

  “Hell yeah, bro! Tommy’s back!”

  The rest of the team was pumped too. Today has been a calendar day for everybody. We’ve been doing okay without me. We’ve won more than we’ve lost, but my absence has been noticeable. That’s for sure. And I can’t help thinking that I’m to blame.

  If I’d just felt that asshole coming up behind me, or been a little faster, or dodged out of the way instead of going straight for the basket – then I wouldn’t be in this situation.

  Supposedly he got suspended but will be back later in the season. Pretty unbelievable if you ask me. There was talk about suing him if my injury ended up being permanent, but that’s just not my style. I settle things on my own, and if today doesn’t work out, and my ankle ends up fucking with me for years to come, well then that bastard is going to have a nice one-on-one discussion with the knuckles of my right fist.

  I hear the voices of the boys out on the court and summon up all my strength to stand. I can’t help but feel like my ankle is made of glass and one wrong step might shatter it. So I close my eyes and take a deep breath and focus, picturing my leg as a strong piece of steel, my ankle reinforced concrete, hard and ready to take whatever abuse I throw at it.

  Putting one foot in front of the other, I walk quickly out of the locker room and down the hall toward the court. I pick up the pace, step after step, feeling out my ankle, convincing myself that it’s going to be okay.

  I’m Tommy Mason. This isn’t going to stop me!

  I’m jogging. I’m on my way back to the court and my ankle’s holding up. I’m moving forward. There’s no pain. Nothing. A smile comes across my lips as I emerge onto the court. Every head in the place turns to me and I raise a triumphant fist in the air.

  “Yeah!” Everyone shouts, rushing ove
r toward me. Joey and Brant are the first there and grab me by the shoulders, slapping me hard on the back.

  “Told you he’d be back,” Joey grins like a know-it-all.

  “One little sprain? He better be,” Brant jokes.

  I shrug the boys off and hit the court, catch a bounce pass from Joey and hit a three. Swish. It’s like a fucking orgasm – not quite, but close. I’m all smiles as I catch another pass, and hit another shot. Another and another. I’m fucking draining them. Everything’s falling back into place. I’m back at home, doing what I was meant to do and the team’s responding. The energy is through the roof. If only we had a game today, I’d be crushing everyone and breaking all my records. I’ve never been so amped on the court in my life, even after winning last year’s championship.

  That was a pretty sure thing. It was my first at UCONN, and as a freshman, but we all knew it was coming. This? This was never a sure thing. Injuries can destroy careers, and that’s all I saw happening from the second that asshole’s foot hit my ankle to the walk over to the locker room today.

  But all those doubts are gone now.

  I’ve got my ankle back and Grace at my side, and nothing, I mean nothing is going to stop me.

  26

  Grace

  Grace

  * * *

  Today is the big day.

  It’s UCONN verse New Hampshire, and not only is it the rivalry that’s become more of a pure hatred between the two schools, thanks to one of their players almost ending the career of my man, Tommy Mason, but also because it’s the championship game.

  Roy Myers. Number six. That’s the name of the guy who kicked Tommy and took him off the court for three weeks. But like I told Tommy, he’d be back and kicking ass after those few weeks were over, and I was right.

  He was all smiles when he came back from that first practice and came into my room, all sweaty and smelly, just like I like him, and kissed me.

  “You were right,” he told me. “I’m fine.

  “I told you,” I said through a smile. But I didn’t have time to do anything. He took me right there, stripped my shirt off, pulled my leggings down and made love to me on the floor of my dorm, getting me just as sweaty as he was.

  Our sex life has been phenomenal. I told Shannon about what happened in the shower, and I could see even she was turned on – and also a little jealous.

  After Tommy and I made things official, she started dating a guy from her poetry class, but he ended up being a total jerk. He was needy, jealous and just overly protective to the point where he didn’t want her going out or doing anything without checking in with him first, or without him coming along.

  “I just can’t take it!” She told me. “It’s like – I can’t breathe!”

  They broke up and she’s been single since. But thankfully, she’s managed to start getting along with Tommy, and doesn’t mind third wheeling it with us when we do things. We’ve even talked about getting a suite next year and having her take one of the rooms and Joey take the other.

  Tommy’s been pushing for Joey to ask her out actually, but none of us are really sure how that would go over. I feel like Shannon would say yes, but I also feel like she might just be stubborn and say no out of pride. She’s never had anything nice to say about the guys on the team, but after spending some time with Joey over the last few months, I’d like her to give him a try.

  We are making baby steps though. She came to the game today with me, and even though she isn’t wearing a UCONN shirt, she seems pretty excited.

  “Wooo wooo!” She shouts beside me, swinging around a little plastic tube that makes a whirring, screeching noise as it picks up speed. “Go UCONN!”

  Both teams race out of the locker rooms and onto the court. It’s a home game for us, and the crowd goes wild. Gampel is packed like I’ve never seen it, and the band goes nuts, playing like it’s the last time they’ll ever hold their instruments.

  Tommy spots me instantly. I told him where I’d be sitting and he flashes me his smile, followed by a tiny kiss and a pat on his heart. It’s our little gesture and I do it back to him. Shannon groans beside me, pretending it grosses her out, but I know she’s just doing it to mess with me.

  The whole school knows who I am now, and if I’m being honest, it’s a little weird. When Tommy pointed at me on that fateful day of his injury, people were talking all over campus. Gossip was rampant and I was getting so many friend requests I had to make my profile private. I was getting looks in class and people were whispering behind my back.

  “That’s her, right? From the game?”

  “You think she’s his girlfriend?”

  “No, way. Tommy Mason with a girlfriend? Gimme a break!”

  But we went public. Tommy wasn’t shy at all to let the whole world know I was his, and I can’t even describe how good that made me feel. All the attention sure took some getting used to. I even ended up on camera when one of his games was broadcast on TV. That was weird.

  We were open and honest with everyone, and although my life has definitely changed, and I’m now a recognizable face on campus, I wouldn’t change anything.

  I can’t stop thinking about the future, but right now that’s not where I need to be. Right now, I need to be here, in the stands, cheering for my man.

  “Go, Tommy!” I shout. I’ve become a lot less nervous with all the eyes on me and being the girlfriend of the most famous man on campus.

  The players setup for the tipoff. Brant jumps, tips it to Joey, who passes it quickly to Tommy, who instantly hits a three. The crowd roars. Off to a great start.

  Nearing the end of the first period, we’re up by seven, and New Hampshire does something that sets the crowd on fire. They bring in Roy Myers. The instant he’s off the bench, the whole stadium erupts with boos and hisses. And as though letting him play wasn’t enough, they actually have him guarding Tommy.

  “What the Hell?” Shannon says from beside me. “They’re seriously doing that?”

  I bite my lip and try not to worry. He wouldn’t try something again – would he? He was already suspended once. If he ends up basically assaulted another player, let alone Tommy, they’ll kick him off the team and probably out of school.

  There’s no reason to worry, I tell myself.

  “He won’t do anything,” I tell Shannon, more for my own reassurance than hers. “He’d get kicked out of school if he tried anything.”

  “Yeah, but this is for the championship. Maybe he takes one for the team and drops Tommy so they have a chance at winning.”

  “Damn it, Shannon,” I groan. “Why’d you have to say that!?”

  Shannon likes to keep it real. Real real, and is always there to keep my head out of the clouds. And now I’m worrying. What if this guy decides to try something with Tommy again? We already had one scare – we don’t need another.

  The crowd keeps shouting, but Tommy doesn’t look fazed. There’s no way he’s letting Roy get to him. Nothing gets to Tommy when he’s on the court, when he’s focused, when he’s ready to win. Roy saddles up beside him, getting unnecessarily close, drawing a look from the ref. But Tommy just smiles and gets an inbound pass.

  Roy guards Tommy harder than he should, with an arm up and just a little too much contact. He’s trying to intimidate him, but Tommy’s not playing that game. He just passes the ball off to Joey and stands lazily at the top of the key.

  Obviously, New Hampshire’s coach has told Roy not to let Tommy out of arm’s reach, because he doesn’t head to the paint to double up on Joey. He just stands by Tommy’s side, doing nothing, while the rest of his team deals with the play.

  Tommy casually tosses me a look and winks, with just the hint of a smile. He’s toying with Roy, and he’s not scared. We’re up already, there’s no need to get into it with him this early in the game. That’s what their coach wants. Preoccupy Tommy so the rest of the team can take over. But that’s not going to happen.

  Brant dunks the ball and the buzzer sounds fo
r the end of the first period. We’re up by nine and I’m feeling pretty good. Roy’s whispering something to Tommy, trying to get him fired up, but Tommy just laughs and walks to the bench.

  That’s my man.

  Nothing can stop him. Not New Hampshire. Not Roy, and not some pathetic trash talk.

  We’re going to win.

  27

  Tommy

  Tommy

  * * *

  “How the fuck could this happen!?” I roar at the top of my lungs. We’re in the locker room and I’m fucking furious. “We’re down?”

  The first half just ended and we’re down by eight. This is fucking impossible. I swear I am about to snap somebody’s neck. Everything was going fine. First period was no problem, even after they sent Roy’s bitch ass in to guard me. I guess their coach thought that would throw me off or something. What’s he think I am, twelve?

  That pussy’s got nothing on me, and his trash talk is terrible.

  “How’s the ankle?” He asked me. I had to laugh. “Little sore?”

  What a bitch.

  But then came the second period, and we made some major fuck-ups.

  “How do we go from nine up to eight down?” I roar, turning my attention to Tim McGowan, our freshman point guard who looks like he thinks I’m about to step on him, and that’s not too far from the truth.

  “How the fuck did you drop the ball like that, man?!” I ask, getting right in his face. He’s sitting on the bench below me and it’s taking everything in me not to tear his head off.

  “I’m sorry, Tommy,” he says, his voice almost a whisper. He feels bad, and me yelling at him probably isn’t helping, so I calm down.

  “All right, all right,” I say, waving my hand in the air. I give him a pat on the back. “It’s fine. They’re playing dirty and we all know it. We’ve all fucked up at times, don’t sweat it.”