by Ella Col
Boxing has transformed my scrawny ass into a machine. “I’m about to show you just how much I’ve grown.”
Removing my fingers and grabbing the swell of her ass, I flip her so her back hits the softness of my mattress. Hannah is shivering with anticipation. I don’t hold back mostly because I lack finesse. “I’m going to eat you.”
Hannah sits up. “Nash? I’ve…” she stutters. “I’ve never done that.” I’m over the moon with this news.
I push her shoulders back so they hit my bed and then yank her underwear down from underneath her skirt. Giving her a lopsided smile, I reach above her and dim the light on my nightstand.
“You’re going to want to scream or moan.” I offer her a pillow. “When you feel like you want to, scream into this. I don’t want to wake my parents.”
Hannah grins and makes fun of me. “Somebody is a bit conceited.”
I chuckle and dive between her legs. Intentionally, I give a long lick up to her clit and suck. Of course, her body reacts the way I thought it would. Hannah whines out an ‘Oh’ sound, and it was only one lick. “Fuck, Hannah. The pillow. Use the fucking pillow.”
My head sinks between her thighs again and her legs naturally drop open. Cupping her ass cheeks with my hands, I bring her clit to my mouth as if I’m eating a peach. The pillow is firmly planted over Hannah’s face. I wish I could see her expressions as I give her the most exquisite feeling she’ll ever feel. However, I don’t want to be interrupted. Therefore, the orgasm silencer must stay in place. For now, Hannah’s movements against my face will have to do. And they are fucking incredible.
With each suck and lick, she is getting wetter and wetter. She keeps one hand on the pillow to drown out her moans and the other hand to push my head between her wet, hot folds, as I work her with my tongue.
For a second, I leave her, giving her another command. “I want you to come in my mouth.”
Frantically, she circles herself against my mouth pushing my tongue over her clit. I take her hint and clamp onto it while wiggling my lips against the flesh. I revel in every muffled scream I hear. Why? She is screaming my name.
After I’m sure she is done coming, I rest my head on the side of her leg allowing her to calm down. She removes the pillow from her face. That’s when I see the glow. The glow I gave her.
Quickly, I stand beside the bed and remove my jeans. Her eyes are wide taking in every inch of my hard cock. “Take the skirt off, Hannah.” She nods like a good girl and discards the garment, throwing it to my floor.
Without any inhibition, I walk to my nightstand and slide my dresser drawer open. I grab a condom and sheath myself as Hannah watches closely.
Lying down, I press my naked body against hers. Kissing her slowly, I notice Hannah is intrigued by the taste I have left of her on my lips and tongue. I smile at her innocence.
Situating myself between her legs, a nagging question pops into my head. “How many times have you done it?” Truth be told, I don’t want to hurt her.
“Just the one time, like I told you.”
Fuck me. I’m going to have to be gentle with her. And I know that I’m bigger than that fuckhead, Caydon.
“Let me know if it hurts.” That’s all I say as I glide into her. I allow her to adjust to me while I take long, deep breaths. She feels like I thought she would. Amazing.
“Can I move?” I try not to sound too eager, but I am.
“Yeah,” she whispers.
I plant my hands on each side of her hips moving with caution. Her head dips back, and she closes her eyes. “You okay?” She nods and I continue slowly moving in and out of her.
This moment could be special…but it’s not. I wish Hannah were all mine, but I’m not dumb enough to think that she is. And if there was a way I could fuck the Caydon out of her system, I would. This is me...taking what was mine from the beginning before that fucker took her from me.
Every time I see his smug face, I’ll know I had Hannah. Every time I wink at her and she blushes, I’ll know she is thinking about my head between her legs. It’s our little secret. Somehow, that makes me feel better about this entire situation. Caydon may have Hannah as a girlfriend. But I’ll always have this piece of her.
I push those thoughts away because I want to be in the moment. I spread Hannah open as wide as she can go. I allow my cock to stretch her as much as her tight pussy will let me. “How do I feel inside you, Hannah?”
“Good.”
I want more than that. I deserve more than that. “I want to hear you say my name.”
“You feel good, Nash.”
I bury myself into her…beyond the barrier… pushing my cock to the hilt. “No! My fucking name…Hannah. Say it!” Moving faster as she pants and takes my thrusts, I look her dead in the eye. “Say it.”
“Kevin.” A tear slides down her cheek.
I kiss it away. Sliding my hand between us, I work her sensitive clit. Her movement begins to match my plunges. And when she reaches for the pillow I gave her the first time she came, I know she’s about to come again. She screams my name again into the pillow as she releases the flood of juices onto to me. Each movement becomes slicker and slicker, driving me to the brink of madness.
My eyes close as my movement stutters and falters. I crash my hips into hers begging for release. Release of Hannah. Release of Caydon. Release of pain. I burst inside of Hannah and growl into her neck. I don’t say her name when I come. I don’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing that she’s more than just a fuck.
I lie there going soft inside of the one person who can chew me up and spit me out. “What did it feel like with me, Hannah?”
“I felt everything you had ever wanted to say to me but couldn’t. I felt you, Kevin.” Her voice drops. “I felt you.”
Damn.
“Hannah, we are going to do this again.” It’s the truth. “You may be Caydon’s girlfriend,” I cup her mound, “but this is mine.”
She doesn’t argue with me. In fact, she slips off my bed and dresses quickly. Before she trots to my window, she peeks over her shoulder staring at my naked body. “I’ll see you soon…Kevin.” Without another word, Hannah slinks out my window.
Fuck. What just happened?
Chapter Eight
Caydon slams me against my locker. It’s taking everything in my power not to level the motherfucker. The dipshit actually thinks he’s a match for me. I could level Caydon in one, quick swift movement. I don’t.
Training with Mark has taught me many things. Mostly, I’ve learned that boxing is just “the way”. It’s my way of life. It’s how I deal. I will never stop training. There is always something to learn. Lastly, I’ve learned to never use my body to hurt someone because I could definitely do serious damage.
However, my body is doing what it is conditioned to do. With every punch Caydon delivers, my muscles instinctively react to block it. Since I’m not fighting back, Caydon is getting more and more pissed.
He has me by my collar. His body is pressed against mine caging me against the locker. “I don’t like the way you look at my girl.”
“Like what?”
His fists bring me forward and then back against the locker. “Don’t play fucking games with me Nash. The fucking flirting better stop.”
“I’m not flirting.” I’m communicating. I just had another romp with her last night. I winked at Hannah to acknowledge our time together.
“You’ve got a fucking eye twitch or something then because I saw you wink at her. By the way, I saw your comment on Facebook, fucker.” Good. I meant for you to see it, asshole.
I grip his fists making him loosen his grip on me. “Hannah and I are friends, Caydon…on Facebook and in real life. Get over it.”
“Telling her…and I quote, ‘I’d like to wrap your legs around my head and wear you like a feed bag.’ is not friendly. The only reason I let it go is because other twats were making idiotic comments, too.” The crowd snickers.
Heh…priceless.
That’s what you get for dating Hannah.
It’s true. Hannah likes attention. Everyone knows that. She posted the sexiest picture I have ever seen on Twitter and Facebook last night. All dudes lit up her comment section with inappropriate comments like a Christmas tree. I figured I could slip in a comment without persecution. “They’re compliments, Caydon. Why do you care if a bunch of dudes are looking at your girl’s picture and jerking off to it?”
Another slam. “I think you enjoy pissing me off.”
“I think you like getting pissed on.”
“I am a simple person. I like to mind my own business...but mess with what is mine…then you are my business--and you wont like it.” Caydon must be reincarnated. There’s nothing simple about him. In fact, if it was a complicated situation, he welcomed it.
I shove him off of me like I would someone in the ring. At first, Caydon doesn’t know what to do because he doesn’t expect the force I deliver. He eyes me with caution.
“I assume I’ve made you angry. I assume you think I care. I assure you that I don’t give a shit. I will do whatever I want to do. All your problems with me are now diverted to ireallycouldn’tgiveaflyingfuck.com. You don’t own me. And you sure as hell don’t own Hannah.”
Something in Caydon’s body language tells me that he knows the conversation is over. He senses that I can defend myself and win. He points at me, “She’s mine now, Nash.” Sure, she is.
I throw my hands up as if I’m surrendering. My lips curve into a devious smile. “If you say so.” I see the doubt in Caydon’s eyes. And it hurts. I know how he feels. I loved this guy only seven months ago. Now, we’re slamming each other against lockers over the girl we both love.
The point is…we’re both wrong. Fuck, there are so many wrongs with this situation, it’s hard to keep track of who is winning the game.
Is anyone really winning?
There are some nights I actually feel guilty that I’m screwing Hannah’s brains out. There are other nights that I find nothing but joy in the act because I still love her. Hell, I still love him. Yet, I fuck my way through the pain of losing both of them to each other.
Hannah’s tranquil smile tells me that she is eating this shit up. She’ll pay for that later. I will fuck her harder than I usually do. Right now, I want…no…need to get to the gym to release my anger and frustration.
Chapter Nine
FOUR YEARS LATER
I am a typical son seeking approval from my father and doing my best to prove my worth. It’s a task that is never fulfilled. The truth is that the man does nothing but drape me with discouragement.
There are millions of young men out there who feel betrayed, neglected, and unappreciated by their fathers. It sucks for the sons who have to go through life with low self-esteem, shattered dreams, hurt and depression all because of what their dads did or did not do for them. I am no different.
If you ask my dad if he is a good father, he would say to look at his bank statement. He supports me financially…that’s no lie. It’s his time and care statement that is overdrawn. He’s bounced numerous checks on this account.
I’ve always had to compete for my dad’s time and energy. The only thing I’ve desired more than Hannah is for my dad to make me a priority over his myriad of work demands.
It all boils down for my innate need to be affirmed by my father. I lack the “emotional armor” that I need in order not just to survive, but also to thrive. I need to know that my dad is pleased with me, not for what I do or do not do, but because of who I am.
So, here I am, sitting in the waiting room of my dad’s office waiting to plead my case. I had to schedule an appointment with his secretary to carve out time to speak with him. It’s absurd. I know.
“Kevin?” His secretary looks me up and down. “My…you have changed.”
I can tell by her pause that she is pleased with my appearance. And in any other circumstance, I’d lead the frothing at the mouth cougar to a private place to show her what I’m made of. Given today’s circumstances, I don’t think that’s a good idea. Don’t fuck the secretary…don’t fuck the secretary.
Instead, I eye fuck the secretary that my dad has hired strictly for eye candy. That’s okay…right?
“Hi, Grace. You look amazing.” I stand up and lean in to give her a quick peck on her cheek. And I congratulate myself for not sticking my tongue down her throat.
Grace blushes and smiles. “It’s been a long time. I expected to see the skinny, high school kid that I’ve met only a few years ago.”
I flex my arm muscles as I grab onto to the sides of her waist. “Yeah, well, I’m not a kid anymore.”
Grace is redder than she was before. Clearly, I fluster her. “I can see that.” She gains some composure. “Your father is ready for you. Would you like me to take you to him?”
I begin to walk toward my father’s office. “Nah, I know the way.” I wink at her. “It was nice to see you again.”
“Yes, it certainly was.” I catch her fanning herself as I glance back at her round ass stuffed into a gray pencil skirt.
I knock on the door of my dad’s office and then walk in. He’s on the phone giving orders to someone. It’s the one thing that he’s good at.
He’s meticulous with a weathered look. His hair once matched mine but now is salt and peppered. When he does smile…which is rare…a small amount of crow’s feet adorn the corners of his piercing, deep blue eyes. I should be so lucky if I age like he does.
Slamming down the phone, he and I share a sharp glaze. Behind the designer jacket and pleated pants is my father…a man I should be able to turn to when I need him. And I need him right now.
He’s annoyed already, and I haven’t even begun to speak. “What is it, Kevin? I’m busy.”
I’m twenty years old with a body full of muscles. I could easily break my father in half. However, he’s the one delivering debilitating blows that render me paralyzed.
“I…I,” I stutter. Spit it out. “I’d like to talk to you about my college fund.”
He snickers. “College fund? For you to have a college fund would mean that you would be enrolled in college.”
My mood deflates. “Yes, sir. I know that. But since I’m not going to college, I thought that I could use the money for something else.”
“Don’t I give you enough, Kevin? You have everything that you want.”
I do. Yet, I want something more. It’s my life’s work. It’s my goal. It’s my path. “Yes, sir. And I’m grateful for everything that I have. The reason I asked for my college money is because I’d thought I invest in my future.”
“What future, Kevin?”
This is going downhill fast. I guess I’d thought that a miracle would happen by coming face to face with my dad. I’d hoped that he’d see that boxing is my life. It’s what I’ve trained for all of these years. It’s given me direction. College could never do that for me. “My future in boxing, sir. I’d like to enter a competition. If I win this competition, it would open so many doors for me, Dad.”
His cackle frightens me. “Boxing. You’re serious.” My dad pinches the bridge of his nose. “Kevin, boxing isn’t a career choice. It’s a fitness routine. Don’t get me wrong, you look amazing. On the other hand, you’re taking it too far. Don’t you think?”
This is a question I thought long and hard about. In the end, I found it’s my life. And whatever I want to do…I’m going ahead and doing it because living my life how others want me to live it will only leave me with regret and disappointment.
I’ve made it this far. I’ve got my state license. I’ve worked with many promoters who hold amateur events in my area. In talking with one of the fight promoters, I’ve learned that I have what it takes to go pro. However, to go pro, I have to enter a statewide competition to get signed. To enter, I need money to train. From there, I’m hoping to gain sponsors. Once I get my sponsors, I will be officially on my own. I just need the entrance fee.
“No, sir. Thi
s is what I’d like to do with my life. My college fund will give me the means to jumpstart my career.” My voice is strong and convincing.
“Kevin, you’re a twenty-year-old kid with no direction. I’m not going to let you piss my money away on a hobby. I do enough of that. You wanted a motorcycle; I bought it. You want the finest clothes; I buy them. Now…this. When does it stop? You must get your life together and soon. Why can’t you be more like Hannah?” he digs.
I’m stunned…not because he denied me access to my college money but because he compared me to Hannah.
Academically, Hannah is every parent’s dream. Morally, Hannah is seriously lacking. I may be a hell raiser every now and again, but I don’t set out to hurt anyone. Hannah, on the other hand, uses people as game pawns.
“Why in the hell would I want to be like Hannah?” I spit out. I don’t mean to sound bitter, but she hasn’t returned my phone calls in three days. And I haven’t fucked her in over a month. I’m a little pissed at her.
“She’s applying to law school soon. She’s on track with her studies. And it’s about time that she finally dumped that tattooed piece of trash.”
What the hell?
“Hold up. Did you just say that she dumped Caydon?”
“You haven’t heard the news, I suppose. She’s engaged. She’s met a fine, young fellow at school, and he’s asked for her hand in marriage.” My dad sounds like he’s ancient.
“She’s getting married?” I almost vomit.
“Get it together, Kevin. You are turning white.”
“I have it together,” I defend myself.
“You do know this means that the sneaking back and forth between windows stops? No more hanky-panky.”
Oh my god. He knows. “Dad, it’s not…”
My dad holds his hand up to hush me. “Save it, Kevin. I know all about your relationship with Hannah. It ends now.”
“Her commitments never stopped her before. What makes you think that she’s going to stop screwing me?” I hate to be so vulgar in front of my dad, but I want him to know that Hannah is a heart crusher and a whore.