Page 85 of Off the Pitch

I needed a shower, some lube, and a plug because prep was only fun when you weren’t desperate. And I was desperate. Really fucking desperate. I wanted Christian inside me as soon as physically possible, and I wanted him to fuck me so hard that I’d feel it for days.

Rooting around in my bedside table, I retrieved my favourite plug, feeling the cool weight in my hand. It was a good size and would stretch me out beautifully. It also had a sparkling blue gem embedded in the base, and I loved the way it shined and the way hints of it were visible between my cheeks when I bent over. It was perfect when combined with my blue jockstrap, which I quickly pulled from my underwear drawer.

I’d never really been one for fancy and revealing underwear before Christian; I’d never really seen the point. But then one day, Christian and I had been looking at porn—so I could gauge a little of what he might be interested in exploring—and I’d noticed the unconscious way his face had lit up at the sight of one of the actors in a jock. To be fair, it had framed the guy’s ass beautifully and made him look oh-so fuckable. It was easy to see what Christian liked about it.

I’d bought one to try after that, and the way Christian had blushed and stuttered when he’d seen me in it had been worth it. That, and the way he’d worshipped my ass afterwards.

Checking the time on my phone and doing a little bit of mental maths, I headed for the shower in our en suite, leaving my glasses on the dresser. I loved the water pressure in our shower and sighed as I stripped off and stepped under the hot spray. The shower in my old house had been a nightmare, the temperature flicking between burning and freezing, so I appreciated the fuck out of a shower that was actually decent.

My mind replayed the images of Christian scoring, powerful muscles pushing against the tightness of his kit. I loved every inch of his body, but I had a weakness for his ass and his thighs. They were criminally delicious.

My cock twitched, hardening rapidly between my legs as my brain treated me to the greatest hits of Christian from today’s match. I slid my hand down my chest, cupping my dick and giving it a couple of strokes. Fuck, it felt good. It wouldn’t take much to send me hurtling over the edge, and it took a great deal of self-restraint to stop myself from jacking off. I wanted to wait for Christian. I wanted him to fuck the cum out of me.

Instead, I focused on giving myself a good scrub, using the sharply scented lemon body wash I knew Christian loved. My cock throbbed as I washed my butt and balls, but I refused to touch it. Patience was a virtue and all that shit. Even if it was really fucking difficult to be patient right now.

When I was as squeaky clean as I was going to get in the short time I had, I stumbled out of the shower and patted myself down with one of the gorgeously thick towels that hung over the heated towel rail before grabbing the bottle of lube from beside the sink.

I groaned as my fingers circled my hole, shivers of pleasure shooting up my spine. Ignoring my body as best I could, I slicked up two fingers and pressed them inside, opening myself up as clinically and quickly as possible. Usually I loved taking my time and driving myself crazy, pushing myself right to the edge and stopping, turning the whole thing into a marathon edging session. But right now, I was so fucking turned on I knew that if I got anywhere near an orgasm, there would be no turning back.

Picking up the plug, I gently worked it into my ass, loving the feeling of fullness as my body pulled it in. It was the perfect size, leaving me stretched, full, and utterly desperate for more.

Fuck, I hoped Christian got home soon, otherwise I was going to have to start this party without him. My patience would only stretch so far, and I was already walking on a knife-edge.

I grabbed the jock, sliding it up my legs before attempting to tuck my dick in the front. Considering I was hard enough to pound nails, that was easier said than done, and I was pretty sure the tip was still peaking over the band, no matter how much rearranging I did.

As I stepped out into the bedroom, I heard the sounds of a car in the driveway.

Shit. Christian was home.

My jeans were still on the floor, so I pulled them up as quickly as possible, cursing wildly when they stuck to my damp skin. Then I grabbed a clean t-shirt out of the drawer and fumbled to pull it on. I clattered down the stairs and into the kitchen, attempting to look cool, calm, and collected, like I’d been waiting there all along.

“Babe?” Christian said as I skidded into the kitchen. He was just closing the door behind him, looking absolutely fucking edible in his tight training shirt and jogging bottoms. I loved him in casual clothes as much as I loved him in his kit or even in the perfectly cut suits he occasionally wore. He looked good in everything, and I was very, very happy to show himjusthow much I loved him. “You okay?”

“Of course,” I said, stepping up to him and pulling him into my arms, capturing his lips in a deep kiss. “Congratulations, you played amazingly today. I’m so fucking proud of you.”

“Thank you.” His lips curled into a wry smile. “I’m pleased too.”

“Good.” I drew him into another kiss, melting as Christian’s tongue pushed against my lips, demanding entry into my mouth. I loved how confident he was these days when it came to sex. He wasn’t afraid or shy about what he wanted anymore, happily spending hours taking me apart and putting me back together again, leaving me a sweaty, sated mess in the middle of our bed.

“Did you have a shower?” he asked, pulling back and raising an eyebrow at me as his fingers moved up to brush damp strands of hair off my forehead, then touched the bridge of my nose where my glasses usually sat. “I’m amazed you managed to get downstairs without tripping. Can you actually see?”

“Of course.” I rolled my eyes fondly at him. I wasn’t that blind. “And I may or may not have a surprise for you. You know, to celebrate your achievements today.”

“Oh, and what is this surprise?” Christian asked, his arms wrapping around me, fingers caressing the waistband of my jeans. “Do I get to unwrap it?”

“You always have to unwrap presents.” I stepped backwards as Christian crowded me against the kitchen island. “It’s the law.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to break the law.” Christian smirked and pressed more of his wicked kisses to my lips, making me sigh with pleasure as he claimed my mouth. His fingers tugged at the bottom of my t-shirt, sliding underneath it and reaching up to pinch my nipples. I gasped, a low moan escaping my lips that made Christian chuckle as he began kissing down my jaw and onto my neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin.

“Oh fuck,” I groaned. “Fuck, that feels good.”

Christian said nothing. Instead, he stepped back and tugged the hem of my t-shirt, pulling the whole thing up and over my head, then dumping it on the kitchen floor. My fingers gripped at the island counter as his lips skated across the hard peaks of my nipples, teasing them with his tongue.

“Shit, Christian…”

“Yes?” He looked up at me, eyes full of lust. Fuck, I loved his confidence. “Did you want something?”

“Yes, I want you to hurry up.”

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