Page 99 of For the Fans
“Fuck… me.” I don’t even know what I’m saying, but I’m shooting everywhere and it feels like someone’s tapped into a well of bliss inside me. “Fuck me fuck me fuck me…”
I hum the words over and over again while Avi rides me out, not even moving his fingers, just leaving them up there, brushing his lips over mine like he’s breathing my breaths.
By the time I’ve floated back down to earth, I’m sweaty and sticky and sated beyond belief. Avi pulls his fingers out of me slowly, and it takes me way too long to notice that my fingers aren’t even in him anymore. Because I was using both of my hands to hold on to his hips for dear life, like I was on a rollercoaster and not properly strapped in.
Allowing my eyes to creep open, I peek up at him. And he’s just grinning at me.Smugly, I might add.
I swallow and blink. That’s all I can do.
He purses his lips, swiping his fingers through the cum all over my chest. “Well, then…” His eyes spring back up to mine, and I didn’t think it was possible, but my cheeks flush ever harder. “Looks like we found our bottom.”
GunsNGloryhole: Stuff me like taxidermy and mount me against your wall.
MagicNotMike: I know two ways to make seven inches disappear…
Shyfan995: I’m so thirsty, can you give me a cup of milk?..Orr two would be much nicer
It’s a big night.
First game of the playoffs. And against Virginia Tech, no less.
They’re undefeated so far this season. Their offense is apparently not to be trifled with, and out of all the teams in the NCAA, they’re the Eagles’s biggest rivals. Mainly because we lost to them in the playoffs last year, which swept the championship rug out from under my superstar stepbrother.
All season, Kyran’s been stressing about taking on the Hokies—dumb team name, but whatever.He’s beat teams with better defense, stronger QBs, and all-around fantastic records; teams who have won way more championships than Virginia Tech ever has. But because of that loss last season…Thisis the one that’s been clicking his normally uptight perfectionist levels up to full blast.
Tonight, we have the home field advantage, which is always a good thing. It also means that I get to be at the game, and as much as I love doing the Charleston in my eagle costume just to see how much I can annoy my stepbrother, I’ll try my hardest not to mess with him too much tonight. If it means helping him win this game so he can finally calm the hell down a little, I’ll be on my best behavior.
I mean, I’m stillme. Mybest behavioris probably pretty appalling to most. But I’ll do what I can.
I’ve just taken the field as Baldwin the Eagle, with the cheerleaders, who are scampering around, scantily dressed in their maroon and gold outfits and an exorbitant amount of glitter. I’m doing my normal shuffle routine while they shimmy and shake their butts, and their pom-poms, to the music ofApplauseby Lady Gaga. Not the song I would have chosen, but it works to get the crowd all riled up.
Having fifty-thousand eyes on you is pretty overwhelming, but it helps that my head is covered. I’m just here to bring the good vibes, and make people laugh. I think it’s important to remember that at the end of the day, this is still agame.
I’m sure Kyran wouldn’t see it that way, but whatever. He’s no fun, we all know that.
The girls are finishing up their dance, and I’m prancing to and fro when everyone turns to cheer and whoop as the players jog out onto the field. Kyran is first in line, as usual, and I’m kind of glad his face is covered too, by his helmet.
I’m used to his undying seriousness harshing my mellow. But right now, for some reason, all I feel when I see him is a relentless bunch of nerves in my gut.
It could be because I’m anxious for him, knowing how important this game is and all. Or maybe it’s because of how we left things the other day…
You know, after we fingered each other and he came all over the place in a bewildering display of sexiness.
I was a little shocked when he didn’t leave a Kyran-shaped hole in the wall after what happened. Watching him jaunt onto the field and prepare for the coin toss, I remember him pulling on his pants…
“It doesn’t mean anything…” he grunted, cheeks still flushed from the shock of an unexpected prostate milking.
I bit my lip to contain my grin, handing him a washcloth so he could wipe the cum off his abs and chest. “Oh, itdefinitelymeans something.” He paused to stare at me, hazel eyes all wide, like a confused baby lamb. I chuckled. “Ky… you came in less than a minute. Nothing touching your dick… Just from my fingers. The jig is officially up. You’re a bottom.”
“No, I’mnot,” he growled, holding on to his defenses like a shield in medieval battle. “It’s made to feel good. That’s what that… thing does.”
“Your prostate?” I folded my arms over my chest, and he scowled.
“It would feel good for anyone,” he huffed while wiping himself down. “It doesn’t mean I want to get fucked.”
“Okay… except that you do.” My face slanted, and he shook his head. “Boy, if other people worked as hard as you at denying themselves good things, we’d be living in a world without corndogs.” He scoffed, giving me a one of his looks while I stepped over to him slowly. “Are you a masochist or something? ’Cause I’ll edge you… if that’s what you want.”
“Fuck. Off.” He glared at me, practically vibrating in his state of seethe.
