Perfect Game_Sports Romance

by Evangeline Fox

  He looks up at me, his eyes half lidded. “Huh? Oh, yeah, this is great, babe.”

  He turns back away, and I roll my eyes. Crossing my arms, I wait for halftime to end. I hear a roar and look up to see a cute younger couple, probably teenagers, kissing on the kiss cam. Cute! I grin and clap with everyone else around me, everyone except Aaron.

  Then the camera changes and I realize it's pointing at me! I gasp and elbow Aaron.

  “Ow- fuck off!” He snarls.

  “We're on the kiss cam!” I say.

  He looks up, and I take his chin and pull him in for a kiss. He rolls his eyes and pulls away from me, spilling some of his beer on me. The whole crowd boos him as he finishes his beer.

  The camera switches, and a few of the women around us tut and shake their heads. Aaron looks up to see everyone giving him the stink eye, then turns to me. “You're such a fucking attention whore.”

  “What the fuck?” I yell, but then the players come back onto the court. I decide to enjoy my birthday present for now, and then kick his ass later. There's no reason to ruin my birthday present because of him.

  The game ends, and Aaron is stuck talking to another man about the game. He's pretending he knows anything at all about basketball.

  We won, of course. Jamal kicked serious ass down there. I watch as he leaves the stadium and I stand up.

  “Where are you going?” Aaron asks.

  “Fuck off.” I wave him off. “You're walking home alone.”

  I head out, but Aaron follows me, screaming at me the whole way.

  “Who the fuck do you think you are? You don't talk to me that way, you bitch! I bought you these tickets for your birthday, and this is how you repay me? You better give me the best head I have ever gotten tonight, I deserve it after this.”

  I whip myself around and glare at him. He charges up to me and raises a hand, but before he can hit me someone else grabs my arm and pulls me. Suddenly I'm running! I can barely keep up with whoever grabbed me.

  Whoever he is, he must be a big fan because he's all dressed up! He's even wearing Jamal's jersey. Of course it would be a Jamal fan that saves me. We run past groups of reporters who turn their cameras to us, probably because we're running right past security. For some reason, they let us.

  We stop and I turn around to see Aaron barely keeping up with us, but unable to get past security. His scream grow quiet as he's escorted away.

  “Hey, thanks for saving me! How did you get us past security?” I ask, looking at my savior. I gasp and step back, covering my mouth. “Hang on!”

  The man who saved me is tall, dark and handsome. His eyes are slightly slanted and his skin is a chocolaty brown. He chuckles as I try to hold myself together.

  This isn't just a fan of Jamal! I was saved by Jamal himself!

  “Oh my god!” I cry, reaching out to touch him. He's still sweaty from playing, and probably from the run. I know I'm a little sweaty. “Oh my god, I can not believe I was just saved by Jamal Summers!” My lip is quivering and, well, now I'm crying. For some reason I press my head into Jamal's chest, and he just lets it happen. What a great guy.

  “That you were. My mom was killed by her abuser. I won't let that slide, not for anyone. Are you going to be okay?”

  “Yeah,” I say, shaking. Jamal gently wraps one arm around me. “I think so. I mean I'm scared of him. I need to leave him, because this isn't the first time he's tried to hit me. I just don't have anywhere else to go.”

  “That's easy,” Jamal says. “Stay with me, at least until you're on your feet.”

  I look up at him. “Say what? You just met me, you don't know if I'm some crazy girl who orchestrated all of this to get near you.”

  “I'd say that's pretty unlikely,” he says. “Anyway, you need help. Here, let's do something really fun. Take out your phone.”

  “Okay,” I say, fumbling in my pocket for my smart phone. I hand it to him. “Why?”

  He takes my phone and taps the screen a few times. Then he pulls me in with his big, strong arms and kisses me right on the lips. The flash goes off. I hear the fake shutter sound that was put in to warn girls their panties were being photographed. Even after the photo is finished, Jamal keeps his lips on mine. He kisses me softly at first, but then he pulls me in closer and kisses me even harder. He has to lean over to do it, but, well... it's still romantic! And confusing. Why is this happening again?

  He finally pulls away and I feel a little bit dizzy. I grin like a doofus and put a hand on his pecs to steady myself. Once I'm done swooning, he hands me back my phone with a huge grin on his face. He looks a little bit flushed.

  “Send this to him,” he says.

  “Oh?” I say, not really understanding. “Send it to who?” I stare down at the photo. I look surprised, but there it is. His lips are planted firmly on mine. He looks like he's really into it.

  “Your boyfriend. Who will now be your ex boyfriend. Send that to him, and then you're coming with me.”

  Oh, god. Should I really do that? Aaron would kill me... but who cares? He's an abusive asshole.

  Still, he's all I know. Oh, what should I do?

  Jamal clears his throat. I gulp, and then nod. I send the photo to Aaron. A few moments pass, and I think I might hear a huge angry roar from far away. I'm probably just imagining it.

  He wraps his arm around my shoulder and smiles down at me. “Come on, girl. What's your name, anyway?”

  “Ashley,” I say.

  “Ashley, let's head back to my house and get you set up.

  Jamal's house isn't as huge as I expected. He's got a great contract, but he still just lives in a normal house. Sure there's security outside, but aside from that it almost looks like a house I could afford one day.

  “Here,” he says, handing me a glass of wine.

  “Thanks!” I sip on it and lay back against the couch. “So I assume I'll be sleeping here? It's definitely comfortable enough.”

  Jamal shakes his head. “That's not exactly what I was thinking, no.”

  I look up at him. His eyes are filled with a strange emotion, one that makes me feel a little uncomfortable. It's not unpleasant, though. Just strange.

  “Do you want me to show you how beautiful I think you are?”

  “Me?” I laugh. “I'm not-”

  “Don't even say it. Come here.” Jamal grabs me and pulls me into the hallway, in front of a mirror. The frame is copper, and the mirror itself has a few small cracks.

  “Look,” he says, tracing his hand along my jaw. “Your perfect bone structure. You're symmetrical, and though you're not stick thin, all the extra you have on you is beautiful. And it's necessary, for becoming pregnant.”

  “Pregnant?” I ask, my voice only barely audible.

  His hand slides down my neck, to my collarbone, and then both hands cup my breasts. “And here, the perfect breasts for producing milk for babies. Big, heavy, and beautiful. I bet your nipples would taste sweet if I were to lick them right now.”

  Why does he keep bringing up babies?

  “Your stomach,” he continues, rubbing his warm hand over my abdomen. “Will one day swell with child, but even then your wide hips and large breasts will leave you looking womanly. No, dear, you're beautiful. You're perfect, and you're designed for one thing: to become pregnant.”

  “Hang on,” I protest, trying to pull away. “I'm not ready to have children.”

  “You are if you want to stay here. I knew the moment I saw you, that I wanted to put my seed in you. Maybe I could have any woman in the world, but I have never had this hunger for anyone before. You're special. I don't know what it is, but you are unique. I want to devour you.” His mouth falls to my neck, his teeth sinking into my skin. He bites, hard, but it feels good more than it hurts.

  I suck in air with a sharp gasp. “Jamal!” I cry, my body threatening to go limp. It feels so good, even through the pain.

  “Moan my name louder,” he demands. He bites my neck again as his hand squeezes my ass.
Then he pulls his shirt apart, the last few buttons flying off. “Moan it!”

  “Jamal!” I gasp for breath. His hand presses against my mound, a place no one has ever touched other than myself. “Jamal, don't stop!”

  When his hand slips under my panties, a finger dips between my folds. He gently rubs my pussy, pushing the lips apart to slide his fingers up and down my slit before gently penetrating me with his fingertip. It doesn't go too deep.

  I'm excited and jittery about him masturbating me, pushing my panties aside and kissing me. I want his lips on me at all times, his fingers exploring every part of me.

  Pushing myself towards his hand, I shudder with the pleasure his finger gives me. His thumb rubs gently against my clitoris. It feels even better than when I touch myself there. Much better. It sends tingling waves through my whole body.

  I rest my head against his shoulder and let him hold me, cradle my body close to his as he manipulates my pleasure zones. He pulls my bra down, exposing one of my breasts. My nipple is hard, sticking out towards him and beckoning his mouth to engulf it. He sucks and kisses on my breast, savoring the taste of my skin on his tongue.

  Without warning, he pulls his fingers out of me and shoves me against the wall. Picking me up a little, he wraps one of my legs around his torso and unzips his pants.

  “Are you ready for this?”

  “Jamal, I'm really not ready to get pregnant,” I whine, gripping his shirt. He pulls his cock out and presses it against my slit.

  “I'm going to tease you, mercilessly, until you beg me to cum in you. I'm going to bring you close to orgasm over and over again. I'll leave you a whimpering, moaning mess until all you can think about is my cum inside of you.” He starts to move his hot prick over my velvety labia. It's wet from my own juices.

  At first I'm sure I'll never want him to cum in me. I'm not on birth control and never have been, and I know I'm at my most fertile right now.

  But as his cock slides up and down my slit, my clit grows warmer and my desire grows deeper. Soon I'm panting and a strange need to be filled up comes over me.

  I want him to cum in me.

  “Say it,” he says. I try to hold back, because I know the consequences are huge. Jamal could drop me like any one night stand, and no one will ever believe it if he knocks me up.

  But he bites my neck again and I melt into him, and it's all over. “Fffffuck,” I cry. “Cum in me! Please! I'll do anything, I'll let you cum anywhere, just please fill me up!”

  “Beg me more,” he commands.

  “Jamal, I want... no, I need your seed inside of me! If you cum in me I'll almost definitely become pregnant and I want it! I want it so bad, so please! Pleeeeease!” I whine, writhing to try and coax him into entering me.

  “You're so wet,” he moans into my ear. I shiver with anticipation and frustration. He presses into me slowly, almost gently, before popping himself in fully and shoving his whole cock into me. Jamal gently pulls almost all the way out, before slamming himself back into me. And again, and again, he slowly fucks me. Each thrust, he picks up his speed.

  I moan and hold him closer. My arms wrap around his shoulders and my legs around his torso, and he fucks me hard. His thick prick keeps pumping in and out of me, his hands holding my hips so that he controls my movements as well as his.

  I can feel my pussy spasming as I orgasm, but he keeps fucking me as stars burst in front of my eyes. And then I feel my second orgasm build, and Jamal reaches in front of me and presses his hand against my clit.

  Jamal tenses up, and I know he'll be cumming soon. And against all rationality, against the alarm bells going off in my head, I hold him tighter. I hold him closer. He presses against me too, the heat of our bodies almost unbearable.

  He orgasms, and his hot spunk swarms my womb. I feel hot strips of cum hit my cervix. I pant and dig my fingernails into Jamal's shoulder, moaning like a mad woman.

  Jamal helps me to my feet, though my knees wobble beneath me. I fall to the floor.

  “Whoa! Hey!” He scoops me up into his arms and brings me to the bedroom, laying me down. He gets onto the bed with me, laying next to me. Stroking my hair, he smiles. A sense of warmth and safety washes over me and, in time, I drift off to sleep.

  The next morning, I open my eyes. Birds are chirping outside, and I think I hear people downstairs. I look over and see Jamal sitting on the edge of the bed, looking down at his lap or his hands.

  “Who is that downstairs?” I ask, my voice groggy. Jamal looks back at me and smiles, his dark skin shimmering in the sunlight leaking in.

  “My cooks. I have to eat well to keep up my muscle mass. Hey, I was wondering... do you feel any different?”

  I think for a moment. Resting a hand on my stomach, I look up at the ceiling. I feel a little sick, but I know it's too early to be sure. “I don't know.”

  He watches me, then nods. “Okay. Well, I have something for you.” He turns around, and he reveals he's been holding a small box.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “A promise. If you are pregnant, I will marry you. Maybe even if you aren't. I don't know if you felt the same chemistry I did, but... Well, I'm a bit of a romantic. I believe in love at first sight.”

  My eyes well up with tears. To think that just yesterday I was with that wretch of a man, Aaron, and now I'm in bed and possibly with child... a basketball star's child! It's overwhelming. It's exciting, too.

  “Would that be acceptable? Or do you want me to get you a ride home?”

  I reach my hand out and place it on his. He looks down at my hand and waits for my answer. He looks worried, but he doesn't have to be.“I think I want to stay,” I say.

  A month later, I get tested at the doctor. And I am pregnant! Jamal kept his word and slipped a gorgeous, huge diamond ring on my finger.

  I don't know if I believe in love at first sight, but I do believe that what Jamal and I have is real love. Maybe it started out at revenge and a one night stand, but what we have now? It's truly romantic, amazing, dizzying love.

  Pregnant by the Pitcher

  Gary Carter stood, awkwardly, at center stage. He'd always been tall, for a baseball player especially, near seven feet. When he threw the ball down the strike zone, it seemed as if it was being shot down from outer space. Now the lights were coming down on him hard, and Audrey could see that the suit didn't fit him very well.

  It surprised her; he made plenty of money, that was for sure. But more important was what the announcer was saying. Audrey's hand shot up. Only a thousand dollars for an evening with Gary Carter? No big deal for her. He was shouting, talking fast, like all barkers at any auction.

  It was all for charity, and she knew they didn't think that it was going to go that far. All in fun, after all, and most of the women here were married anyways. But even if it didn't go anywhere, dinner would be an incredible chance for her. She had the money, of course; money had never been a problem for her.

  Not since she had started working on her own, anyways. Not since she'd become head of the tech company that bought hers out, thinking they could crush competition with a big enough check. They learned their lesson, and she learned hers.

  She smiled and her hand shot up again. Fifteen hundred. She had waited, when it started. Had waited to let people think it wasn't going to turn into a bidding war, let the fire fade in everyone else's gut. But if it did turn into a war, she'd win.

  Someone else bid two, and so she bid twenty-five. A third voice called out four thousand dollars, and then Audrey knew that she was in for trouble. But that didn't stop her.

  "Five thousand," she said, raising her card.

  "Six thousand," said the first voice.

  "Ten," Audrey said, smiling at the idea that someone was going to buy her out of what she really wanted.

  She was eighteen when she started out on her own. She'd gotten out of high school at 14, carried 30+ credit hours a semester, and sat on a Masters in Electrical Engineering by the time she could legally get
busy.

  The buyout was a couple years after that, a massive tech firm based in California that thought a 21-year-old girl didn't have the balls to fight back. By the time she ran the place, she was nearing the end of her 20s.

  By the time she caught her breath, she was in her 30s and hadn't been on a date since before she found out what a date really entailed. Still, that didn't mean she didn't want a family.

  In fact, she wasn't happy with it one bit. She wanted children, wanted her life to feel complete. Wanted someone who could take care of her when she was old, someone she could leave her legacy to. What was the point of protecting herself from all the hungry young people coming after her, if all they had to do was wait for her to retire and her empire would be theirs?

  She had gotten distracted, and she realized that the gavel was coming down twice, a third time…

  "Sold, to number fifty-seven!"

  Audrey didn't need to look at her card to know that was her number. She smiled at the usher that came to get her, to take her into the next room to sign a check. They'd offer to take her picture next to Gary, too, in case that was the sort of thing she was interested in.

  An hour later, they were done with the whole thing. They didn't want Gary leaving until the auction was over, for the sake of the press, and by that point it was already later than she would have preferred. She was usually an early riser, but a few late nights here and there never hurt anyone. Hell, if she got her way she wouldn't get much sleep tonight anyways.

  Gary's voice, deep and soft, cut through her distraction. "You ready to go, ma'am?"

  "Please, call me Audrey. Are you hungry?"

  "You're the boss." He chuckled, and a big, goofy smile split his face nearly in half. He offered his arm, and she looped hers through it, and they set off to the car.

  Dinner was a little bit unusual for her. She usually ate in private party rooms. They were better for conducting business, and Audrey hated the idea of wasting a perfectly good hour's time for some biological need. Now, though, the whole thing was supposed to be for charity, so she permitted that it was going to have to happen.