by Autumn Avery
Stallion
A bad boy sports romance
Autumn Avery
Contents
1. Walker
2. Emmy
3. Walker
4. Emmy
5. Walker
6. Emmy
7. Walker
8. Emmy
9. Emmy
10. Walker
11. Walker
Epilogue
Author’s Note
Mailing List
Also by Autumn Avery
Also by Autumn Avery
1
Walker
It’s just after one o’clock and I’m completely wasted, and have been since we started drinking after a team dinner to celebrate our victory over the Austin Wranglers. There’s always been a rivalry between the Colts and the Wranglers, and kicking their asses this afternoon was a great way to kickstart the weekend.
Partying this hard sends most people to the bathroom to hurl or leaves them crying the next day with a hangover, but I’m not most people. I’m Walker Johnson, the Stallion. When I’m on the field I play hard, and when I’m off the field, I play harder.
The football house is raging right now and lit up brighter than the lights at the Super Bowl. We’ve got enough kegs for half of campus, enough dime piece co-eds to put a party at the Playboy mansion to shame, and the best part of it all? They all want to be the one to end up in my bed.
And why wouldn’t they? I mean – I’m the star of the team. The rest of the boys are good, and might go on to bigger and better things, but I’m the one being scouted by the NFL. I’m the one that’s going to be earning millions of dollars and fighting the babes off with a stick.
I hear Johnny across the room, holding a beer high above his head and shouting, “Everybody shut up! Let’s hear it for Walker Johnson! The best goddamn linebacker the Colts have ever seen, and the future MVP of the NFL!” Everybody cheers and raises their drinks high in the air. Booze rains down on me and I grin as some big-breasted blonde, I think her name is Kimmy or something, grabs me by the shoulder and hoists herself to my cheek and plants a kiss on me, pressing her big double-D breasts against my arm as she does so.
“I love the way you play,” she shouts in my ear, running her fingernails down my back. I look down at her and do a quick calculation in my mind. This girl’s definitely a solid nine – maybe even a ten, and I can tell by the look in her eye that I could be banging her in two minutes if I really wanted to, but I’m just not ready to commit yet.
Parties like this attract the baddest babes on campus, and since tonight is the biggest celebration of the year, I’m pretty much guaranteed my pick of the litter. There’s really nothing comparable to the feeling of the crowd screaming your name after a win, or knocking a guy on the opposing team on his ass, but going balls deep in a centerfold quality babe who’s screaming your name is a close second.
Go big or go home, that’s my motto.
I feel Kimmy’s hand slide into my pocket and take ahold of Walker Junior. Not that there’s anything junior about my dick really. Even over the crazy roar of the party, I can hear a sharp intake of her breath when she realizes what I’m packing. They don’t call me The Stallion for nothing.
“Oh, wow,” she whispers, pressing up against my body. I can feel her tight stomach against my hip. She must work out. I like a girl who keeps in shape. “I guess it’s not just your biceps that are big.”
“Everything’s bigger in Texas, baby,” I say to her with my signature grin that makes all the girls wet. Of course, Walker Junior’s probably already got her juices flowing.
Kimmy tosses her hair out of her face and gives me the fuck-me-eyes that I just can’t handle. I feel my jeans tighten as I start to get excited. Sports really is the way to go. I see all these other dudes chasing chicks around campus, taking them out to dinner, movies, spending all their money on the hopes of getting laid, and I just have to laugh. They must hate me when they see the most prime pieces of ass literally chasing me around, all hoping to be the one to land me as their boyfriend.
The girls with brains know I’m not looking for a relationship, and they’re okay with that. They just want to go to bed with the Stallion, and that’s more than all right with me. I’m a no-commitment kind of guy, at least right now. When I make it to the big leagues I’ll have to land myself a premium chick I can take around and pose for pictures with, but for now it’s all fair game.
“I’d love to see your room,” Kimmy giggles, arching her back to give me an even better view of her ample cleavage. I can see the slightest hint of tan lines showing beneath the hem of her tank top. So fucking sexy.
Fuck holding out for better. This girl is good to go. I feel Walker Junior is ready to hit the field and practically screaming at me, “Put me in coach!”
“I’d love to show you,” I tell Kimmy, sliding my hand around her tight waist and pulling her towards the stairs.
“Hey, Walker!” I hear Kyle, our kicker, shout from behind me.
Jesus Christ, I think. What the Hell does he want? Doesn’t he see I’m about to score?
But when I turn around, I see what’s up.
The Hyde twins. The fucking Hyde twins!
Everyone on campus knows about these two. The legit hottest girls on campus, who I’ve heard were approached by Playboy several times. Easily five foot nine, with curves for days, tight asses that you could bounce a coin off and tits that might make you forget your own name.
So far no guy on campus has been lucky enough to even get with one of them. I heard Jenny, or is it Jamie…was seeing some hedge fund manager who lived outside Austin. She’s always wearing designer clothes and never has the same thing on twice, so that would make sense. Her sister…Jenny, almost dated some douchebag on the baseball team of all things, but that never happened. Rumor has it he’s gay.
“I’d like to introduce you to Jenny and Jessie,” Kyle says with a shit-eating grin. I instantly pull my hand off Kimmy and take a step to the left, putting as much distance between us as I can.
Is this really happening?
These chicks look good to go. They’re dressed like sluts too. Just how I like it. Cutoff denim shorts showing off their flawless tans, tank tops that barely hold in their world class cans. And when I say world class, I mean world class. Those are the kind of racks that girls point to when they go to the plastic surgeon and say “I want those!”
Visions of the rest of my life start flashing through my mind. If this is the kind of trim I’m landing in college, how could things get any better? But I know they will. It’s only up from here. I’ll be rookie of the year and I’ll be swimming in prime poontang. But how many guys are actually able to tell their friends they landed a pair of identical twins?
“Hey, Walker,” the girls say in unison. My jaw just about falls off and I instantly picture them lying side by side on my bed, both screaming my name as they orgasm, their gorgeous bodies shaking beneath me.
Fuck!
Is this really happening? I shouldn’t be too surprised at the things my life brings me at this point. I mean, being the star of the football team has its perks, but something like this is a once in a lifetime event for any guy – and I intend to capitalize.
“Hey uh, Kimmy?” I say, trying to let her down gently. “I gotta uh…talk to Kyle. Can you gimme a minute?”
She’s no dummy. I can see on her face that she knows what I’m really saying, but instead of cussing me out, she decides to keep her hat in the ring and just says, “All right, big boy. I’ll be around all night, just come and find me.”
With a wink, Kimmy brushes her fingers against my forearm and heads off into the crowd. I can’t help but watc
h her perfect ass bounce as she walks away. I like to make a girl come, but I just love to watch her go.
“Where were we?” I say, turning back to the two beauties in front of me.
“Jenny and Jessie were just telling me how much they loved watching us play today, weren’t you, girls?”
The girls nod enthusiastically, causing their boobs to bounce just slightly.
Us? Did he just say us?
“So you saw my game-winning catch?” I say to both of them.
“Oh, yeah,” Jessie says. Or is it Jenny? Who cares?
“We also saw Kyle’s field goal!” The other one giggles, brushing up against Kyle’s side.
What the fuck is this?
“The girls thought we could give them a tour of the house,” Kyle grins. “I told them that would be no problem.”
When he says this, he lowers his head and gives me a look that I know I’m supposed to understand, but I am having a hard time believing what he’s suggesting.
“We could,” I repeat, giving Kyle a second to back out of this one.
“Yeah, man.” He says, chuckling. Suddenly Kyle morphs into an unbelievable moron and I want to reach out and rip his head off his body. This guy is honestly suggesting we go upstairs and share these girls.
I’m Walker-fucking-Johnson! I don’t share girls. If any of the guys on the team get a chick I’m interested in, it’s after I’ve already scored at least a couple touchdowns on her field. Then it’s up to them if they want to play ball. But I’ll be goddamned if this idiot thinks I’m going to let him in on the score of the century.
“I dunno, man,” I say, walking up and putting my arms around the girls. “I think I saw Emily out back looking for you earlier.”
“Emily?” Kyle asks. We both know damn well there’s no Emily looking for Kyle – well, there might be actually, but not tonight, not that I know of. I just need him out of here.
“Yeah, man. I saw her out back by the kegs. You should go say hi.”
Before he can open his mouth to protest, I grab the girls by the waist and pull them towards the stairs. This is my night, and the only sharing going on is going to be these babes sharing a ride on the Stallion.
“Why don’t I show you guys my trophies?” I suggest. They both giggle enthusiastically, obviously not too broken up by Kyle’s departure. Whatever. He’ll find another chick tonight. Everybody will. But the King gets first pick.
And it’s good to be King.
Just as I’m about to take the first step up to the second floor, Danny, a bruiser of a linebacker, bumps into me and slides an arm around my neck.
“Yo, Walker! Buddy! What’s going on, man!?”
Danny is the quintessential drunk asshole, which is odd because when he’s sober he’s an almost comical gentleman. If chivalry was still something in style, or something I gave a fuck about, I’d go to him for lessons. But when he gets a little liquor in him, he’s a prime candidate for a good knuckle sandwich.
“Hey, Danny. Not much, man. Hey, I’ll see you later, okay?” I say dismissively, hoping he takes the hint. But of course he doesn’t.
“Do a shot with me, bro! Come on, I brought you one.”
“I’m good, Danny—“
“You are good,” he says with emphasis, pointing an index finger at me. “Best damn wide receiver in the country, and I’m gonna do a shot with you.”
I feel my stomach churn at the thought of more alcohol. I’ve been going hard since just after dinner, and I think I’m at my limit. But when Danny produces a shot of vodka and shoves it in my face, I know I can’t disappoint him.
“All right, man. Fuck,” I say, grabbing the glass.
“To the NF-fucking-L!” He shouts, clinking his shot against mine. I toss it back and grimace. Cheap-ass vodka.
“Yeah, boy!” He shouts, tossing his arms over his head like a crazy fan.
“All right, buddy,” I say, feeling my stomach turn as the liquid fire spills down my throat. “I’ll catch ya later. Have a good night!”
“You too, man,” he jokes, giving me an all too obvious elbow in the side with a comical wink before disappearing into the crowd.
“Now, where were we?” I say, sliding my hands back around the insanely tight waists of the two sisters whose minds I’m about to blow. Hell, the way I’m feeling tonight I might be up for two-a-days, and I’m not talking about running drills with the boys. These girls might be walking home bowlegged tomorrow morning.
I start to feel lightheaded. Not sure if it’s the booze or the blood rushing from one head to the other, but I stumble a bit at the foot of the steps. Luckily I’ve got a girl under each arm to support myself, and I manage to get my feet back under me and make it up to the second floor.
The sound of the party dies down as we make our way down the hall. I can feel Jenny’s hips brushing against mine. Her skin is so fucking soft, and I’m about to tear a hole in my jeans at the thought of burying my entire length inside her.
Someone’s already going at it in Danny’s room, and from the history of this house, I can assume it’s not Danny. Probably Mark or Foreman. Danny has somehow managed to remain a loser with no game despite being one of the top players on the team, so the other boys are always stealing his room for a quick fuck when he’s not around.
“Just down…here,” I say, starting to slur my words as I push the door open to my bedroom. It’s dark, and I catch a foot on the carpet as I step inside. I hit the floor hard and groan, but before I know it the girls are both on top of me, fawning and petting me with their soft hands.
Fuck.
My stomach churns, but I try to push the nausea down and focus. One of them grabs my pants and pops the top button. Walker Junior is ready to go in, and my zipper practically explodes open as one of them slides it down. My stomach churns again.
Twins, Walker! Twins!?
I have to make this happen. This is a bucket list fantasy, and I’m going to check it off! But I’m feeling flush. I’m starting to sweat. I take a deep breath and grab Jenny, or is it Jessie, by the hair and pull her lips towards mine, and that’s when it happens.
Everything comes up from today. My burger, the fries, the salad and ice cream, and the unbelievable amounts of alcohol I’ve been basically inhaling since then.
“Oh, shit!” She yelps, leaping to her feet, barely getting out of the way of my upchuck.
“Sorry,” I stammer, wiping my mouth with my forearm. Luckily I didn’t ralph on her, but both the girls are looking grossed out. “Gimme a sec.”
I manage to get to my feet, but the world’s starting to go fuzzy. I’m able to make it to the bathroom and turn on the water, but it’s no use. I splash my face and wash my mouth out, but when I go to turn back to the room I can see the twins are already on their way out.
“Hang on,” I murmur, reaching a hand in their direction. But it’s no use.
You went too hard, Walker, I think to myself as my knees go weak. I hit the floor like a sack of wet laundry, and can only watch as the two absolute dimes beat feet down the hall back towards the party. The last thing that goes through my mind before I pass out is, look at those asses. Can’t imagine what they look like from behind…
I wake up the next morning feeling like my head is about to explode. The sun is blasting in through my window like an atomic bomb has gone off down the road. The odor of stale beer and pizza invades my nostrils. Not what you want to wake up to. It’s not the smell of two slamming chicks in bed with you that are ready for round two – or maybe round three.
The twins…I think sadly, raising myself up on my elbows, my head a cracked ceramic bowl ready to explode at the slightest touch.
I blew it. Fucking Danny! I knew I shouldn’t have done that shot!
Some ungodly noise blares from the other side of the room. It takes me a minute to realize it’s my goddamn cell phone. Why isn’t it on vibrate? Fighting another bout of nausea, I manage to crawl across the carpet and get the phone before it goes to voicemail. I al
most drop it bringing it to my ear.
“You got the Stallion,” I croak, angrily sarcastic.
“Johnson!?”
Shit! My whole body tenses up when I realize who’s on the other end: it’s coach P.
“Coach!” I say, trying to play things cool. “How’s it going?”
“You sound like you’re on death’s door, boy. The Hell’s going on over there?”
“Oh, nothing,” I lie, rolling onto my back and sucking huge breaths of air, trying to keep it together. “What, uh – what’s up?”
“What’s up?” Coach snaps back, sounding pissed. Coach P takes no shit from anybody, even his star players. It’s one of the reasons we win. All the boys know not to fuck with him. It doesn’t matter how good you are. If you give Coach P a reason to bench your ass, he will. And if you’re lucky, that’s all he’ll do. “You have a lot of explaining to do, son. Get your ass to my office.”
“Uh, okay. When?”
“Ten minutes ago.”
The phone goes dead, and I just drop it to the floor and lay back. What a disaster. I can’t even remember the last time I was this fucked up. That shot Danny gave me must have had straight up poison in it for me to be this smashed.
The whole room is still swimming as I shove myself to my feet. Jesus, this is like being a freshman all over again and not knowing your limits. I look around for my clothes and realize I’m still wearing them. What is that smell?
My foot hits something wet, and I remember.
I yacked last night.
I hobble to the bathroom, almost toppling over on the way, and toss my leg into the tub and crank the water on. Washing last night’s puke off your foot, Walker. Classy.
I blew it with the twins. I wonder if they’d even look at me the same after what happened last night. Hopefully they were both drunk enough to forget about it, but I doubt it. Dodging puke when you’re pre-gaming for a threesome isn’t something you just brush off.
There’s nothing I’d rather do right now than just slide my whole body into the tub and pass out with the hot water spraying down on me from the shower. Wake up like a prune in a couple of hours. But Coach P has a hair up his ass about something, and when Coach P says jump, you jump…high.
