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Fuck. I was going to go crazy, and I needed to fix my name in her phone before I called her. Was there a way to hack that shit?
I’d just stop by after weights. I could do that. It was a couple of hours.
I wouldn’tactuallygo insane.
I sniffed my shirt, wincing with how bad it smelled. A shower was definitely in order. I couldn’t have hygiene like Soto.
Stepping into the water, I turned it to scalding hot to try and clear my head. The rhythmic sound of droplets pattering against the tiles filled the air, a soothing backdrop to the tumult of thoughts swirling in my mind.
I leaned forward, my palm pressed firmly against the slick, tiled wall, feeling the heat seep into my skin.
Closing my eyes, I let the warm water wash over me, caress against my skin. I took a deep breath, willing myself to relax, to let go of the tension that was gripping me.
But the memories of last night were stuck in my head, the taste of her lips, the feel of her tight, perfect cunt…
My hand found my aching dick and I stroked it from root to tip. It was Lincoln and tequila’s fault that I had this piercing to begin with. We’d signed our rookie contracts and got absolutely shit-faced. Before I knew it, I was getting my cock pierced and we were getting matching butterfly tattoos. Somehow, I think he got the better end of things… At least the butterfly tattoos had a meaning.
Although I had to admit, the sex was next level with it. Blake’s eyes had practically rolled back in her skull when she’d felt it on her G-spot.
I continued to stroke my dick, thinking of the taste of her. And then suddenly…
Blake was on her knees in front of me, naked. Blowing my fucking mind. Her breasts were full with rosy pink nipples just begging to be sucked. She was wide-eyed, her pupils blown from how turned on she was….from sucking my cock. I twisted my fingers in her hair, surging into her sweet, hot mouth. She choked out a moan as I hit the back of her throat, her breasts arching towards me. I knew if I reached down between her parted legs, she wouldn’t just be wet from the shower.
“Touch yourself,” I groaned as I fucked into her mouth.
Her hands went to her breasts and she pulled and kneaded at her tips.
And I was dying. Obsessed…
And coming. Fuck. I was on fire. Possessed. I surged into her mouth and emptied hot cum down her throat, pulling out halfway so it spurted all over her tits and chest. I wished we weren’t in the shower, and that it wasn’t washing off. I wished she could just walk around like that, covered in me. So everyone would know who she belonged to.
I came back to earth, cum coating the shower wall. One of the most intense orgasms of my life…just from thinking about her.
And I was still hard.
Can you sprain your dick? Because that was going to happen now that it had found nirvana. The “Maximus 5000” would need to be fed. Daily.
Hourly actually.
Fuckkk. I dragged a hand down my face and finished my shower, resisting the urge to wank off again like a…wanker, I guess.
* * *
An hour later, I was in an Uber on the way to the practice facility for weights…still slightly drunk.
The team gym was an assault on my senses, way too much clinking weights, grunts, and the persistent thump of bass-heavy music. It was how I usually liked it, when I didn’t have a bottle of Patron still swishing around in my gut.
Walker, Mr. Prince Charming himself, was already there, his hulking figure bent over a weight bench. His hair was damp with sweat, and his muscles strained as he pushed the barbell up and down with ease. He had the kind of build that could stop a tank engine, which made him an excellent goalie.
"Morning, sun sizzle," Walker quipped as I approached, his voice a rumble beneath the music. "Or should I say 'morning after'?"
“Did you just call me “sun sizzle?”” I asked incredulously, chuckling in disbelief, or at least I hoped it sounded like a chuckle. Kinda sounded like a witch cackle to my own ears. "Walker, my man, you're looking disturbingly awake for someone who was at the same party as me last night."
Walker paused mid-lift to give me an arrogant look. "Welcome to Cali, Ari Lancaster. We know how to party here."
“You’re from Tennessee originally, right?” I drawled.
As I sauntered over to the weights, my muscles singing a chorus of protest, Walker set the weights on the rack and flipped me off..
