Stallion: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (11 page)

His words enflame me, but I’m still cumming, and my head rolls back against the bed. His fist tightens in my hair, clenching tight, and he leans forward and kisses my neck. My entire body twitches and threatens to push him out of me, but Walker presses his down on me with all his weight, pinning me to the bed and driving his cock deep inside me.

My arms wrap around his strong back and my hands clench down uncontrollably. My nails dig into his skin, and I wish I could stop, but I can’t. I’m cumming too hard, feeling each pulse of my orgasm against his cock, feeling every inch of him inside me.

Finally, I start to come down. My hands relax. My body stops shaking, and I’m able to open my eyes again. Walker’s eyes are inches from mine, our faces pressed together. We’re both covered in sweat, and I’m soaking wet. It’s one big mess on Walker’s bed, and I’m loving every minute of it. And from the looks on his face, so is he.

“You’re amazing,” I whisper.

“Told you,” he says with a chuckle. He leans down and kisses me gently on the lips, like I was his girlfriend. “So are you. But I’m not done with you yet.”

He pulls out of me so suddenly I have to gasp for breath. But then his hands are on my hips, and he’s flipping me over onto my stomach. I move to get onto my knees, but he shoves me roughly down against the mattress.
How does he want me?

Before I can think any more, Walker mounts me from behind, his knees on either side of my hips, and slides his cock inside me.

“Fuck!” I scream into the mattress. This angle is even more intense than the last, and I can feel him in my stomach. There’s no easing me into this one. Walker starts to fuck me like a beast possessed with lust. The whole bed is shaking as he raises up off me and thrusts back down, bringing his entire body weight down on top of me. He might break the bed if he keeps going like this.

But I don’t care. I’m literally screaming into the mattress as he pounds me. There’s nothing else I can do. I’m powerless beneath him as he has his way with me. If it were even possible, his cock is even harder. It’s like a slab of hot steel between my legs. He spanks me.

That’s never happened before. The sting causes me to tense up, which makes me even more aware of his monster cock inside me. He spanks me again – harder.

“Yes!” I scream, not even sure if he can hear me.

“Take my cock,” he growls, fucking me harder and harder.
I’m going to rip in half!

As if things couldn’t get any better, Walker slides a hand beneath me and his fingers find my clit.
This is too much
. I feel like I’m going to pass out. I need air. I twist my head aside and gasp deep breaths. Walker’s other hand grasps by neck, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to let me know that I am his.

Playing with my clit, Walker pulls my body into his as he slams down onto me, pumping in and out of me with his huge cock. I’m soaked. The bed is soaked. He’s going to make me cum again.

“That’s it, baby,” he says from above me. “Cum again for me. I love it.”

“You want me to cum for you?” I ask him, surprising myself. I’ve never been a dirty talker, but Walker is bringing things out in me I never knew were there.

“I wanna fucking feel it,” Walker says. “I wanna feel you cum on my cock.”

“Yeah?” I ask, just wanting to hear his voice again.

“You make me so hard,” he tells me, thrusting me furiously. I’m getting close. His fingers are magic, moving in small circles against my clit. I seriously feel like I’m going to pass out as I cum again.

“Fuck yeah!” Walker says. “I’m gonna fucking cum too.”

My pussy clenches down, and I feel his cock twitch, followed by a hot spurt of his cum as it shoots inside me, filling me. Again and again he cums. We cum together. He shoots inside me, burying his cock, coating me, marking me as his.

It feels incredible. I shouldn’t be letting this happen, but I’m powerless to stop it. My most basic human desires have taken me over.

Walker collapses on top of me, enveloping me in his sweaty arms. We’re both absolutely soaked, and it’s perfect. The thud of his heartbeat pulses against my back. This was perfect.
He
is perfect. His cock is still hard inside me, and for a second I think he’s going to go for round two. But finally he slips out of me, leaving me feeling suddenly empty.

My eyes are welling up with tears.
Am I crying?
No. Just my body’s reaction to being fucked stupid. My mind is racing, trying to settle on one thought, but I just can’t do it.

Dick drunk
, I think, remembering Abbey’s slang term for having your brains fucked out of you. That’s what I am right now. Walker is a God, a wizard, a champion.
How many other girls has he ravaged like this?
I think.
No!
Don’t think about it!

I push the thought from my mind and feel his fingers brush a mat of sweaty hair from my face. I open my eyes and see he’s not feeling too differently than I am. In fact, he’s not even focusing on me. His eyes are closed and he looks like he’s lost in the clouds somewhere.

His hands move like they have a mind on his own, gently caressing my cheek like we were old lovers.

But we’re not old lovers
, I think, feeling something tighten in my chest as I look at him.
We’re not even together
.

Walker is my assignment – my story.

And I just slept with him. I just did
exactly
what I told myself not to do.

7
Walker

I
t’s game day
, but I wake up thinking about Emmy. I’m spent. Running sprints is one thing, but going to down on the girl you’ve been lusting over for several days is completely different.
Man
did I give it to her. That pussy is dangerous. I haven’t felt a girl so tight since…well
…ever!

Not like it’s out of the ordinary or anything, but I wake up hard and roll over onto my side to readjust. My arm moves to the space where Emmy’s soft body should be, but she’s not there. I open my eyes to see I’m alone.
That’s a first
.

Normally I’m the one to bail. Hell, half the time I kick the girls out before the night’s over. I can’t be sharing a bed with just anybody. But Emmy isn’t just anybody, and I’m doing a lot of things I never do with her.

First of all, I hit it without a rubber. That’s a big no-no. With the amount of pussy I normally get, it’s wrap it
then
tap it. I mean, I’ve gone through so many condoms this year alone that I should be billing the school. They hand out free condoms every week in a bowl at the R.A’s room. The only problem is they never have any in my size.

Those normal ones just don’t fit. I have to stretch and pull on them just to get them on, and then I feel like the circulation to my dick’s being cut off and I wonder if I’m gonna break right through them when I blow my load. With all the money I’ve spent stocking up on rubbers I could have paid off a pretty decent car by now.

I
always
wear a rubber.

But with Emmy I couldn’t control myself. No, that’s not even it. With Emmy, it felt wrong to wear one. The thought of putting one on didn’t even cross my mind. I needed to
feel
her.

I needed to fill her with my cum.

Fuck
!
What was I thinking
? Maybe she’s on the pill…

I doubt it though. I’m not sure why, but something about Emmy just makes me think no. Whatever sex she’s having with that boyfriend of hers is probably so boring and sterile that they use a condom every time and do it missionary for three minutes.

That’s a good point though. Her boyfriend. Isn’t she dating some idiot, and did she seriously just cheat on him? I hope not. I don’t like cheaters. I mean, I’ll fuck a girl with a boyfriend no problem, but there’s no future in a girl like that.

Once a cheater, always a cheater.

Emmy doesn’t strike me as that kind of girl, but the thought of it just makes me want to smash something. Wouldn’t that just be perfect? I let this chick worm her way into my life, start to feel something for her, and then it turns out she’s a coldhearted bitch that just fucked me, bailed, used me for a story and then ran back to her snooty little boyfriend that she’ll end up cheating on later when they’re married and bored.

Where the fuck did she go anyway?
I think, looking at the empty bed beside me. My room is like a sauna, and I’m still soaked from last night. It doesn’t matter how I’m feeling right now, there’s no denying that last night was hot. Pornstar style, baby. Watching her get her mind blown was worth every little quip from her from the last few days. And man did she feel good.

I can still smell her on my fingers. I love it. That’s how you know you’re into someone – you like how they smell, and Emmy smells sweet. Some chicks? Forget about it. It’s like, what the Hell is going on with you? But Emmy? I could have gone down on her for hours. The view was spectacular from down there, and watching her writhe around as my tongue went to town on her was better than the best porn movie ever made. Shit, it was better than catching the winning pass against Seattle last season.

This girl is dynamite.

But now she’s gone. Running back to her boyfriend, making up some story about how she stayed out at her girlfriend’s house and forgot to charge her phone or something.

What do I care?

I mean, how many girls have come in and out of here, never to be seen again? Most of them I don’t even think twice about, so why is Emmy any different? Thinking back to last night, I can’t get over that rack. I can still feel her soft skin under my fingertips and the warmth of her body against mine.

I was sure that
when
Emmy and I had sex, because I knew she wouldn’t be able to resist, that we’d have hate sex – angry sex. But we didn’t. It was…passionate. I mean, sure I fucked her brains out, but I was actually thinking about how she was feeling. Normally I just do my thing and hope the girl has a good time too.

Obviously she always does, but with Emmy, I found myself thinking about her more. Looking into her eyes while she took all of me, which was in itself a big surprise, was fucking hot! I could see every single one of her reactions with each of my strokes.

I guess I liked seeing her out of control. She’s always so composed and professional. But there’s only so composed you can be when you’re riding the Stallion.

But I guess that’ll be the one and only time with Emmy. She’s run off, back to her boyfriend. What’s he do again? Pre-med? Pre-law? Something like that. Probably a stuck-up douchebag. But I guess they deserve each other. Here she is being pounded by me while he’s pounding the books. Not like I wanted to see her again anyway…but it is always disappointing to find out that a girl you think is cool is actually a bitch.

Today is game day!

I’ve gotta get my head right. Normally I have a strict rule: no pussy before you play. Some people say fucking drains the testosterone levels, some say it raises them, but all I know is it wears me the fuck out.

And today is a big game too. We’re playing Alabama and the scouts will be there. Last time we played it was a close game, but a winning catch from yours truly in the last ten seconds won us the game and led to one of the most righteous celebrations in Colt’s history.

And I’ll be damned if it’s gonna be that close again.

We’re gonna sweep the floor with those pussies today, regardless of whether or not I broke my rule last night by running Emmy ragged. If either one of us is catching a nap today, it’ll be her.

“Yo, Kyle!” I shout, pulling the door open.

“Yo?” He replies from downstairs.

“You got the shakes going?”

“Five minutes!”

“All right,” I say, grabbing my towel. Quick shower, then one of Kyle’s famous protein/energy shakes, and it’s off to the locker room and warmups. A lot of guys will shower there, but I like to be ready to go when I hit the stadium. Football is a very mental game. It doesn’t matter what kind of shape you’re in if your head’s not right, and that’s why I gotta stop thinking about Emmy
now
.

Which is easier said than done. I still smell like her, and it takes like three dousings of body wash to even begin to mask her scent. She must wear a tiny amount of perfume, or maybe it’s her deodorant. Or maybe she just somehow smells like something you get off the shelves. Either way, it’s great. But I can’t have it on me on game day.

I dry off, throw some clothes on, grab my bag and head downstairs, where Kyle is going crazy wizard in the kitchen. I dunno how many of these bro-shakes of his I’ve had, but to this day I still have no clue what’s in them. And frankly, I don’t want to know. They’ll probably end up killing me, but the boost of energy you get from them is enough that sometimes I’ll have him whip half of one up for me after a hard night of partying, just to knock the edge off a hangover.

“You fucking ready, dude?” I shout at Kyle, smacking him hard on the shoulder.

“Hell, yeah,” he replies enthusiastically. “Gonna kick the shit out of these guys.”

He’s got the blender going full speed, and he must have added something new to the mix, because today’s shake, instead of being a typical milky white, is a sickly slime green.

“The fuck?” I ask, bending down for a sniff. I recoil instantly. “Smells like bad pussy.”

“Knock you on your ass, man,” Kyle laughs.

“What’s making it green? – actually no. Don’t answer that. Just pour me a glass.”

“Yes, sir,” Kyle mocks. I snag a tall glass from the cupboard and Kyle drains about half his wizard’s potion into it. I plug my nose and chug. About halfway through, I gag.

“Shit, man!” I sputter, wiping green slime from my lips. “This
tastes
like bad pussy too! Is that what you’re going for?”

“Man up, dude,” Kyle roars, taking a swig from his glass with a huge smile. There’s no way he actually thinks that tastes good. He’s just messing with me. I flip him the bird, grimace, and down the rest of it.

“Ah, that’s smooth,” I say with a chuckle, sucking some water from the faucet to wash things down.

“Ready to rock?” I ask Kyle.

“Yeah, let me get my bag—“

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Jordan interrupts, coming into the kitchen. “We’re not going anywhere.”

“What are you talking about?” I say.

“We have some shit to discuss first. Namely, what the hell was that reporter chick doing sneaking out of here this morning?”

Shit!

This is not something I want to discuss right now. I’ve been doing good keeping Emmy out of my mind, and now here’s this dickhead bringing it back up.

“You saw her?” I ask. “What time?”

“I dunno,” Jordan says with a smile. “She looked pretty scared though. What’d you do to the poor girl?”

“What do you think I did?” I say, growing more and more annoyed by the second. “I fucked her brains out, man. That’s what I do!”

Kyle roars with laughter and high fives me. I’m putting on a show, trying to make it look like I don’t give a shit, but in reality I’m being pretty thrown off right now. “Really though. What time did she do the walk of shame?”

“I dunno, man,” Jordan replies. “You think I mark these things on my calendar or something?”

Fair enough. I’m not sure why I care so much. If she left, she left. It doesn’t matter what time it was. But I do wonder if she fell asleep and then sort of snuck out while I saw snoring, or whether she woke up early and decided to beat feet before I woke up. What a disappointment.

I don’t know what I was expecting, but Emmy had been a firecracker. Underneath all that professional reporter crap, that good girl exterior, there’s a freak just waiting to get out. When I grabbed a fist full of her hair I could see it. The look that came over her face…I wish I’d pulled out my phone and taken a picture.

Stop it!

I gotta get my head right. I’ve got a game to win, and today is an important day.

“All right, enough of this shit,” I say, heading for the door. “I’m going. You idiots coming?”

The rest of the guys grumble but follow me out the door. I don’t say a word the entire walk to the field. It’s normal for me to be quiet before a game. I don’t like to distract myself. Getting into the zone is what separates the men from the boys. Guys coasting along on the back of the best players just end up gossiping and playing a mediocre game.

Not me. I focus. But today, with last night’s events still fresh in my head, I’m having a hard time getting my game face together. As I step into the locker room to suit up, I can feel myself fighting to keep her out of my head. Even when Coach P comes in to give us our pregame “motivational talk,” I’m barely listening. Not like I haven’t heard it all before, but this is bad.

Get it together!
I want to scream at myself.

I clench my teeth and ball my fists on the way out to the field. The roar of the crowd helps. There’s nothing like hearing forty thousand people cheer for you or chant your name. No matter how many sprints I run or how many drills we do, that’s one thing that will never get old.

Finally something to take my mind off her
.

Coach P doesn’t like us celebrating or being dicks on the field, so I keep my head down and join the rest of the boys on the field. I check my laces and pads, just out of habit for the most part. There will be photographers out there today, as well as everybody with their cell phones, and all the lenses will be trained on me. Everyone knows it’s my big day today.

The turf’s in good shape. It feels good to be on the field. I’m more at home here than anywhere else. All the familiar smells – the musk of the turf, the bitter smell of sweat and worn equipment.

We start running plays to warm up as more fans filter in. The place isn’t fully packed just yet, but there are still a lot of people. Their gaze motivates me. Some guys don’t like it and have to pretend they’re all alone out there, but I’m the opposite. The more the better. My dream would to have all eyes on me at the Super Bowl, sprinting to towards the end zone, a Hail Mary arcing over the opposing team, stretching my hands out to catch it…

The rookies run drills and toss passes, doing their part until it’s their time to step up and shine. My catches are on today, which isn’t a surprise. The only question is whether or not I can keep my head in the game.

I wonder if Emmy’s here.

No matter what I do, I can’t shake her. Uncontrollably, my eyes begin to scan the faces in the crowd. Would she be here? I’m not even sure where we stand right now or what she’s doing about the story on me. Just bailing like that has left me hanging.

I opened up to her, and now I’m regretting it.

A pass hits me in the chest.

“Wake up, Johnson!” I hear Coach P’s voice and turn to see him looking at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Get your head in it!”

Coach must have caught me daydreaming.
Shit
.
This is going to be harder than I thought.

And there are scouts here today! I’ve got to get it together.

I put my head down and focus until kickoff. The first play I get a breakaway twenty-yard pass, but it’s a sloppy catch. Anyone else would be thrilled, but for me that was about a seven on a ten scale. The crowd loves it though, and so will the scouts. Coach P is cool with it too. Hey, at the end of the day, yardage is yardage.

“What are you, Mr. Butterfingers?” Troy chuckles from behind me, smacking me on the ass. It’s a harmless jab, but today it pisses me off.

“Hey, just watch thirty-two, all right? You just about missed your block there, am I gonna have to worry about you today?”

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