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I might have had some talent when I walked through the gates of the Groveton campus, and I certainly had just enough bravado to make things interesting. But he was the one that stripped me bare and rebuilt me into a fucking machine. And now I feel like I can take on the world.
I dial Bryant and listen to it ring. His voicemail picks up.
"Hey, it's me. Are you home right now? You skipped out too fast for me to tell you how it went, and right now, I'm desperate to swallow your cock. Unlock the back door. I'm coming over."
I'm halfway to his house when I get a text.
BN: Not home. You need to be at the party, anyway.
BN: Glad it went well, though.
JP: I'd rather celebrate with you.
JP: *eyebrow waggle GIF*
BN: Go to the party. You'll be missed.
I sigh audibly and throw my head back. I really don't want to go to the party. My teammates are great and all, and we're getting along well, but I don't feel like I can be myself around them. Whenever I'm around my so-called friends, all I'm thinking is that I wish Bryant were there. There's really only one person I want to celebrate with, but he's not in the mood. I do know one thing he's always in the mood for, though…
JP: What the fuck am I supposed to do with this thing?
Looking around me to make sure I'm alone, I turn on the flash and snap a quick picture of my junk and send it to him.
BN: I'm sure you can find plenty of willing young ladies. Wear a condom.
Are you fucking kidding me? I can't tell if he's joking. I know we keep saying this isn't a relationship, and we specifically set boundaries for me to mess around with girls just to keep the heat off us, but I haven't actually been able to follow through. I simply have no interest.
I can't help but feel a little hurt and angry.
JP: So it's like that, is it?
BN: It's what it needs to be. Have fun, party safely, sleep in tomorrow. I'll see you Monday at practice and you can tell me all about the meeting.
God fucking damnit.
I turn around and head the other way, feeling like my bubble has burst. I don't want to go to the party, but I also don't want to go home alone and stare at the walls while trying to block out the sounds of my entire dorm throwing an all-night rager. Now that everyone knows where my dorm room is, I get far too many unexpected visitors knocking on my door at all hours of the night. Bryant is right that I can find plenty of willing orifices for my cock, feels like everywhere I turn girls are all but bending over and presenting themselves to me. I literally had a girl—a complete fucking stranger—follow me into the men's showers and aggressively try to suck my dick. I've been showering at the sports complex or Bryant's house exclusively since then.
Getting my dick sucked, or more, is no problem. Which reminds me of the one thing I know will get under Bryant's skin. He wants to pretend like he's okay with me getting with anyone and everyone I want? I'll show him just how bothered he can be. He wants to tell me to wear a condom like it's no big deal? I'll show him.
The party is in full swing by the time I arrive. Beer and liquor are flowing, and there is the heavy scent of weed in the air. The music is loud and thumping, but the cheer that goes up when I walk in is even louder. As I pass through the house, people shake my hand, hug me, or thump me on the shoulders. Most of these people I don't even know. I wave and greet my teammates, most of whom are blitzed already.
Lane is in the kitchen when I pass through and he comes over to pull me into a one-handed bro hug and thumps me on the back.
"Dude, is it true you met with some big scouts tonight?!"
Despite my reckless mood, my grin is real. "Yeah, man. It's nuts."
"Not as nuts as it's gonna get tonight! Alex! Pour my man a shot!"
He doesn't pour me just any shot. When I turn around, I see three half-naked girls laying on the table. Alex pours tequila into all three of their belly buttons, hands me a salt shaker, and sticks a lime in the last girl's mouth. I pull my phone out to record the action, and Aniyah appears at my side.
"Here, let me," she says, taking my phone from me so I can get a better camera angle.
"I'll make sure to thank you later," I say, giving her a kiss on the cheek and a purposely suggestive grin. I won't, but she'll be too drunk to remember if I did or not.
The light for the camera comes on, and I survey my options, deciding to go all in. I shake the salt on the first girl’s cleavage and lick before slurping the booze out of her belly button, then move to the second, doing the same. On the third girl, I reach for the salt shaker and sprinkle it on her thigh. With a wink at the girl, who I'm pretty sure is a freshman but who cares, I lick a long line up her thigh, all the way up to her panty line, before suggestively licking and sucking the booze from her navel, then bending over her to bite and suck the lime from her mouth. She makes it even more of a show by pulling me down for a sloppy kiss once I've put the lime down.
The room erupts in leering whoops and cheers, and I spend a few minutes flirting with all three of the girls, talking about all the other things I can do with my tongue. I realize that Aniyah is no longer recording and wonder where she went with my phone. When I look around the room, I find her near the entrance to a hallway, dangling the phone and crooking her finger at me. My mouth quirks into a smirk and I excuse myself from the table, much to the loud dismay of the girls there. I mentally high five myself for my performance, knowing no one would ever suspect me of bending over for the head football coach after that.
