Page 19 of 4th and Goal
Oh, well, that’s mildly disappointing. “We’ve got leftover—”
“Hungry for your cockle doodle do.” She pulls her shirt over her head, swaying only a little, but I keep her from falling. Then she slips off her shoes and clumsily pushes her pants and underwear to the floor and steps out of them with my help. She reaches behind to unhook her bra but can’t manage it and starts spinning in a circle like a dog chasing its tail. I still her with a hand on her soft generous hip, and a chuckle. Unsnapping it, the bra falls to the floor, and she shakes her shoulders, making her tits sway. “And I’m free! Free boobing!” Tom Petty is probably rolling over in his grave. She grins down at me, arms spread wide, then drops down hard to her knees. “Oh! A penis!”
What follows is arguably the sloppiest blow job I’ve ever been on the receiving end of, and the funniest, but honestly, it’s the best one yet. I’ve never had so much fun with a partner before. Lilly is easy to love. Before I cum, I slide my hands under her arms and force her to stand up. Drool covers her chin and chest, her lipsswollen. She’s going to unman me. Carefully, I turn her around, grab my cock and point it straight up, then guide her to sit on it with her back to my chest. She coos and whimpers as I fill her. Fully seated, she leans back against me, her tits on full display. I’m close to the edge from her mouth, so I use one hand to hold her still, the other plucking her nipples. She shifts and I stop her.
“No, don’t move. Just feel.”
“Full. So full.”
“I know, baby. Flex your cunt. Make me cum.” She obeys and every twitch of her inner muscles is like a jolt of electricity along my length and into my balls. Instinct takes over, and she lifts her hands to her tits, so I use both of my hands to play with her pussy. I tease her clit, rub and pinch it. I trace her lips as they stretch around my shaft. I lift her legs, resting her feet on my thighs and opening herself up to me completely. While I continue to torture her clit, I use the copious amount of juices between us to wet her asshole. She flinches but moans a second later when I rub the furled skin. Her pussy spasms faster, longer, harder with every swirl of my fingers. “Squeeze, baby, you gotta work hard to earn my cum.”
“Oh, God! Brody!” Her chest stutters, her stomach muscles contracting, a fine sheen of sweat coats her skin. And still, she works me with her pussy. “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna—”
I smack her pussy with my fingers and then rub her swollen clit furiously, increasing my pressure against her asshole with the other. She cums so hard, her release drips to the floor at our feet, her inner muscles like a tight band around my cock. My balls draw up, and I groan long and low as my cock jerks inside her without a single thrust.
Jesus. That was…there are no words to describe what just happened. Lilly yawns, her jaw practically unhinging like a snake.
“Why am I so tired? I barely moved! It’s not like I rode you rodeo style.”
“Rodeo style? Hmm…something to consider for another time.”
“I like your penis, Brody. You have the nicest cockle doodle do. But now I’m sleepy. Carry your queen to bed!” She splays out starfish style and before I’m done laughing, she’s snoring.
Life with my woman will never be dull.
Lilly 15.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” I can’t be hearing what I’m hearing. Seeing what I’m seeing. I thought with the end of the regular season, that I might be able to relax a bit, smooth sailing until, hopefully, a bowl game. But no. And honestly, it doesn’t matter what I’m feeling, Daya and Addy are what matter right now. “Someone cut that feed!” I yell, hoping someone with a radio can get in touch with the jumbotron operator. I run down the tunnel, through the complex, and smack the elevator button repeatedly until it finally opens. I should have taken the stairs, but I don’t want to be out of breath and sweaty on top of rushed. On my admin floor, I run into my office, grab my laptop, and run back to the elevator to go to the upper floor where the press boxes are located, and the audio/visual offices.
“Son of a bitch! So help me God, if you don’t start talking, you’re going home in a body bag.” I pretend I didn’t just hear my boyfriend threaten someone’s life and slide into the small office full of screens. I push aside empty pop cans and other debris and set down my laptop. I give it a second to wake up, then I’m opening a blank document, and my fingers start flying across the keyboard. I ignore Brody and the soon-to-be unemployed Glenn, as I draft a quick apology. I skim through it, shrug that it’s the best I can do right now and send it to the announcer through the instant messaging system Eric developed for the back office.
As soon as I hear the announcer’s voice reading what I sent, I focus on the shit show that is going on a couple of feet away. I inhale a deep breath to calm down and instantly regret it as the stench of piss overwhelms me momentarily. Great. Brody scared the guy so bad he wet himself.
Mason comes through the doorway, zip ties in hand. He motions to Glenn to stand and turn around.
“Come on, man. That’s not necessary. I didn’t know what was on it! I thought it was a birthday tribute!”
“Save it for the judge.”
“JUDGE?!?” Glenn does not like the mention of criminal charges, but what he did here today is definitely illegal and whatever he thought it was, whatever lies he was told are irrelevant.
“Wait. Don’t zip tie him.” Glenn sags in relief at Brody’s words. He’s typing on his phone, then pockets it and looks up at Glenn. “Police are on their way up now.”
“Fuck.”
By the time half-time is over, Daya, Addy, and the rest of the cheer squad put on a hell of a performance, along with the band and others. I’m happy to hear the crowd getting back into the spirit of the game. Our first playoff game, at home, should be celebrated, not marred by the treacherous web of deceit, lies, and contractual sex that has occurred within this building, all in the name of perceived success.
Everything on the field is business as usual, but behind the scenes is a madhouse as security and admin scramble to make sense of what’s been going on for far longer than any of us knew. I’m sick to my stomach and we’ve only untangled half of that webby the time I get an urgent message from security at the end of third quarter.
My feet ache from running all over the complex and stadium. My brain protests as I think over everything that needs to be done, and a headache is building fast behind my eyes. I hear yelling before I make it to the entrance I’ve been summoned to. A sinking feeling forms in the pit of my stomach. Conner is being barred from entering the stadium. He’s obviously drunk and more unkempt than I’ve ever seen him.
“Lilly! Quit being a bitch and let me in! I have a ticket.”
I plaster a neutral professional expression on my face and stop next to one of the security guards preventing him from entering. “I understand you have purchased a ticket for tonight’s exciting game; however, you have been banned from entering due to previous egregious behavior.”
“Fuck you! You’re just jealous!”
“Thank you for your continued support of our university, however, we must ask you to leave now before—”
