Hard & Deep: A Football Romance

by Krista Lakes

  His eyes darted between her nearly-naked body and Mr. Hayes, who was still seated right behind her. When the two men’s eyes met, Mr. Hayes made a slight nod, giving his silent approval.

  “This is a one time offer, Mr. Baxter. My lady requests it, and what she wants, she gets,” Mr. Hayes said after a moment. Still, Gordon was frozen in his seat.

  Tracy, seeing his apprehension, knew what she needed to do. She walked over to him, placed her hands on his shoulders, and straddled his lap. The swelling in his cock was already apparent, even through the thick material of his work pants.

  She rocked her hips forward and bit her lip.

  "It’s okay, Mr. Baxter. I’ve seen the way that you look at me." She grabbed his hands and placed them onto her hips. "I noticed the way your eyes couldn’t help themselves earlier tonight."

  "I… I mean...” Gordon's glance darted to Mr. Hayes again, still unsure that this was really happening.

  “Do you want this?” Tracy asked, letting him look. She felt beautiful and sexy with the way his pupils dilated and his mouth opened.

  He nodded.

  “Then please her,” Mr. Hayes commanded.

  Tracy leaned forward and pressed her breasts onto Gordon's face. She could feel him take in a deep breath of her while his fingers slowly clamped down onto her soft skin. The sensation of him warming up to the idea was palpable and exciting. Slowly but steadily, his fingers crept up the soft curves of her sides to just below where her bra sat. He wrapped his hands around her and tightened, forcing his hot face deeper into her.

  She groaned as he began to kiss his way out of her sexual embrace. Gordon traveled up from between her breasts and nibbled the spot near the base of her neck.

  Watching them closely from his seat, Mr. Hayes shifted and caught Tracy’s eye. For a moment, she had been lost in her talented chef’s touch.

  "Can you help me, Mr. Hayes?" she asked sweetly.

  He stood up and started toward her. He, too, was sporting a thick erection that bulged from under the seams of his pants, begging to be set free.

  "Take off my bra," she commanded. Mr. Hayes stood behind her and did exactly as he was told. The springy elastic snapped open and both of her soft tits fell out. He reached around, pressing his meat against her back, and twirled each of her light nipples.

  "Yes," she hissed.

  She leaned down and lightly kissed the side of Gordon’s jaw before standing up. Without needing any direction, Mr. Hayes slipped his hands down the front of her soaked panties.

  Tracy cried out when his fingers snaked down over her mound and slipped into her with ease. She spread her knees as far as she could without falling and let him feel her from the inside, but only for a minute. Then she moved his hands to her hips. It was a silent order to continue undressing her, one that he understood perfectly.

  He jerked her panties down, allowing her to step out and fling them aside with a foot. Finally naked, she turned her attention back to Gordon, who was nearly writhing in his seat with anticipation.

  She bent over, pushing her ass against Mr. Hayes while she deftly undid Gordon’s zipper and pulled his member free. It was bigger than she had given him credit for.

  Behind her, Tracy could feel her lover quickly undressing.

  She knelt, extended her tongue and slowly ran it from the base of Gordon’s cock to the very tip, eliciting a moan from somewhere deep inside of him. He immediately grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled. It was just hard enough to convey how badly he needed her.

  Tracy plunged her mouth down onto him and sucked down. She could feel his every throbbing ridge as she moved up slowly, taking in his taste and scent to make him wait a little longer.

  Her mouth popped softly when she reached the end, then she stood up. Tracy grabbed onto the back of the chair and turned back to Mr. Hayes.

  "Come over here," she commanded.

  He walked to her left just in time to see her thrust her body down onto Gordon’s pole with a loud, wet slap. She opened her mouth to cry out for him, but was immediately silenced by Mr. Hayes. His long, thick shaft slipped past her lips and muffled her escalating cries of pleasure.

  Tracy’s pace became more frantic. She hopped her body up and down over Gordon, pounding her pussy against him hard enough to make her breasts bounce and shake. She sucked her boyfriend’s cock and rocked her hips forward, grinding her engorged clit against Gordon’s hard body.

  It was enough to easily push her over the edge, surprising even her with the quickness and power of it. Tracy pulled her mouth away from Mr. Hayes and screamed with ecstasy as her walls throbbed and pulsed around Gordon’s thrusting member.

  But there was no rest for Tracy. She wanted more. This was her fantasy and she wasn't about to let it end here.

  "To the table, both of you," she ordered.

  Gordon got up from his chair and picked Mr. Hayes’ deep blue tie up off of the table.

  Tracy glanced over and asked, "What’s that, Mr. Baxter?"

  He smirked and grabbed one of her wrists. For the first time, he and Mr. Hayes locked eyes with matching glimmers in their eyes. Tracy saw it, and she knew what it meant.

  They had an idea.

  Before she could demand otherwise, the two powerful men had bound her wrists together with the soft tie, and each of them greedily groped and kissed her body. By then, there was no hint of the cooperation she saw between them just moments before. They both simply wanted to please her.

  Mr. Hayes, who had been waiting for too long, grabbed her first. He spun her around, forcing her body face down onto the table with a loud slap.

  He entered her from behind, pounding his cock into her lubricated hole. All the while, the rounded edge of the table bumped and massaged the precipice of Tracy’s quivering folds.

  But before she could get too far again, Mr. Hayes suddenly pulled away and Tracy felt Gordon’s throbbing snake slide into her.

  They’re taking turns with me, she realized and bit down onto her lip. The idea was dirty and delicious at the same time. The idea of both of them getting pleasure from her was hotter than anything she could imagine. A rising tide of screams and wails of pleasure made her head start to spin from a lack of air. Each and every thrust was harder than the last, the force of which took her breath away. Soon, Tracy couldn’t keep track of who was inside of her. She writhed with her bound hands in front of her, begging for them to go faster. Again she was inching closer to climax, this time with both men close behind.

  The men switched again. Tracy knew it was Gordon when he wedged his rough hand between her pussy and the table and started to massage her in hard, tight circles.

  It was all that Tracy needed.

  The coaxing from Gordon’s hand sent off a chain reaction in Tracy. A hot, blooming wave of pleasure raced outward through her body, starting from where his talented fingers ended.

  "Yes," she screamed for him before loosing herself to wordless ecstasy.

  Just before the last pangs of ecstasy had finished, Tracy felt him jerk out of her. A second later, he grunted and shot out a stream of his hot cum toward her. It hit the table between her legs, speckling her with small drops.

  Tracy gasped for air and tried to push herself up from the table, but Mr. Hayes wasn’t having it. Again he pushed his cock through her opening. With both hands, he spread her open, making sure to bury his cock deep.

  Moments after, Tracy got no warning as his sticky seed erupted inside of her. A hard chill raced through her spine, making her close her eyes .

  By the time he pulled out, Tracy could already feel the looming cloud of sleep threatening to close in. Without a word, she started to put her clothes back up.

  Gordon cleared his throat. "I'll... I'll go to work getting this place cleaned up. You two have a lovely rest of the night."

  Mr. Hayes smiled as he dressed.

  "Thank you for a lovely evening, Gordon. I trust you can lock up yourself?" Tracy asked.

  Gordon nodded, and Mr. Hayes and
Tracy left the restaurant. For some reason she couldn't understand, Tracy could barely stay awake.

  Chapter 20

  "That was nice, Tracy. I've actually dreamed of us doing this ever since that night with you and Jenna," Mr. Hayes said.

  She struggled to keep her eyes open the entire ride home, though the rhythmic whooshing of passing cars tempted her to the realm of sleep. She struggled out of the car when they arrived and climbed up the stairs, holding onto the banister like a rock-climber dangling from a cliff. Her feet felt like cement and her head felt like it was about to float away.

  Suddenly, what Mr. Hayes had said in the car came back to her. Mr. Hayes had dreamed about a two man threesome.

  How did I not know that was going to happen? Why didn’t I see it?

  As tired as she was, the nagging doubt in her blossoming abilities weighed even heavier on her mind. She wondered whether or not the skill was fading or, even worse, if she was just outright losing her marbles. There were times when she certainly felt like it could be the latter.

  By the time that Tracy reached the massive, plush bed, her eyes were already halfway shut. Before her tousled hair touched the silk pillow case, she was out completely.

  The whirling, twisting colors of blue and red over white surrounded Tracy again, though this time the wind was as hot and dry as the Sahara. She put her forearms up in front of her face to shield herself, but not before a few bits of sand blasted her cheeks. The flying specks felt like tiny, little needles assaulting her face.

  She tried to speak, but the wind was howling like a tornado. Then, just as before, the painful squeeze of the strange man’s grip seized her wrist and yanked her out of the multi-colored cyclone.

  Tracy landed abruptly on the desert sand that extended endlessly in every direction. It was hot, almost too hot to stand on. She shifted her feet back and forth and tried to pry her arm away from the man.

  "Why do you keep coming to me? Who are you?"

  The man, looking a little older than he had before, leaned down so close that she could see the tobacco stains on his teeth.

  "Death."

  Tracy turned away from him, but he tightened his grip on her wrist enough to force her to look back. When she did, they were nose-to-nose. She could feel his breath rolling down over her heaving chest. She felt the small bones in her hand and wrist begin to grind together.

  "Tell me your name," she commanded, sounding far more confident than she felt.

  The man shook his head slowly and stroked her face with his free hand, rubbing his crescent scar against her sand-blasted cheek. Little flecks of red spotted her cheek where the grains had made contact and broken her skin. Now, under the unwanted stroking of the man’s hand, the drops smeared across her face like war paint.

  "Tell me," she screamed at him.

  He stopped, pulled his hand away, and slapped her. Tracy yelped and felt her knees buckle beneath her. The only thing stopping her from falling to the ground was his unrelenting grip.

  She looked back up, but the man had changed. Near the corner of his face, by where his black, stubby hairline began, a corner of his skin looked like it was peeling away.

  It reminded Tracy of the old wallpaper in her grandma’s house.

  She reached up and pinched the flap. The man didn’t try to stop her. In fact, he had stopped moving altogether. Tracy grabbed the thing and jerked down, only to be blinded by a brilliant flash of white. The man’s old face crumbled to dust in her fingers, but still he didn’t let her go.

  "Who the hell are you?"

  "What?" a familiar voice called out to her. "You don’t recognize me?"

  Tracy opened and closed her eyes, trying to shake away the fog. When they did focus, the smiling face of Gordon Baxter was waiting to greet her.

  "Gordon?!"

  He let go of her wrist, wrapping his skilled hands around her throat and jerking her up against him. Even through his linen whites, she could feel the outline of a raging erection.

  It was getting harder and harder for Tracy to breathe. She tried to push away, but his hand felt like it was glued to her. Her feet thrashed and kicked, but never made contact with anything. Gordon reached down with his other hand and squeezed her mound firmly.

  When he spoke, his words came out like a serpent’s hiss.

  "I’m going to kill you, Tracy."

  Tracy screamed, but no sound came out.

  Chapter 21

  The weeks leading up to the grand opening of Tracy’s restaurant were a flurry of activity. There was a constant stream of vendors and new employees running in and out of the place from morning to night. At the center of it all was the waitress-turned-head honcho who, at the end of the day, felt about as lost as the day she chose to make it happen. The constant tornado of events made it almost impossible to concentrate on anything for more than a minute or two.

  The first few days, she avoided Gordon. After their sexual night together followed by the disturbing dream, she wasn't sure what to expect from him. But, he behaved as if nothing had ever happened between them. He was the complete professional, which was good because Tracy felt like everything was falling apart at the seams.

  Fortunately, Gordon stepped in to help, after finding her almost in tears because she got the wrong size onions. From that point on, the two worked seamlessly in tandem in a way that Tracy hadn’t expected. By the time the big night did arrive, Tracy was thanking her lucky stars she'd got him to work for her.

  "Tracy!" One of the younger sous chefs ran up to her and pushed the bridge of his glasses up with the back of his wrist. "Baxter wanted me to tell you that we’re ready whenever you are."

  Unsurprisingly, Gordon had insisted on his employees calling him by his last name only.

  "Okay. Thanks." A sudden wave of nervousness washed over her.

  He nodded. "Yes ma’am."

  Tracy closed her eyes and sucked in a big breath of the fragrant air. There was a line of folks waiting not far from where she stood. Among them, she was sure, were local food critics and elite business women and men. Mr. Hayes had seen to the guest list, making sure that all of the right people would be in attendance.

  Everything, it seemed, was perfect. Which, if experience meant anything, meant that Tracy's world was going to turn into a disaster.

  She snapped open her eyes and exhaled. From there, her feet carried her to the lobby, where she slipped open the deadbolt on the front doors and pushed them open. Waiting to greet her at the head of the line was Mr. Hayes. He flashed her a toothy smile and adjusted the lapel of his tux jacket.

  "You ready?" he asked, kissing her cheek. His touch was comforting.

  "Yep. Marcy," she said to her lead hostess, who was waiting nearby. "Let’s start seating."

  The young blonde nodded and went to work, dispatching each of her six girls with table after table of important folks and their guests. Tracy stood back with Mr. Hayes and watched all of it, her hands clasped together so tightly that her knuckles were white.

  Mr. Hayes rested his hand on the small of her back. "Having fun yet?"

  She cocked an eyebrow up at him. "This is supposed to be fun?"

  Both of them chuckled. It was a well-needed respite.

  "I’m going to go check on things in the kitchen," he said and took his hand away. "Call me on the radio if you need anything."

  Tracy nodded and watched him slip through the crowd and disappear. She walked outside into the parking lot. Not far, but just enough to get away from the restless din of voices, plates and glasses.

  There was a cool breeze starting to roll through the city, and it grabbed the stray hairs that had fallen from her ponytail, gently fluttering them about her face. Her cheeks were still flushed, so the wind felt even colder that it normally would have. She shivered and looked to her left, where a small alley ran between her restaurant and the designer boutique next door, leading to the next street over. Tracy hadn't been down it, as she didn’t make a habit of strolling alone at night.


  Just as she was about to go back in, something drew her eyes. A little puff of smoke bubbled up from behind a streetlight. Tracy stood still and watched as another went up and subsequently carried away by the chilly wind.

  It wasn’t until then that she noticed how quiet the rest of the block was. Aside from her bustling event, hardly a car went by and there were even fewer pedestrians. Tracy took a step forward and looked closely.

  Behind the lamp’s halo of yellow light, a familiar silhouette made her skin crawl. He was bulky, but not very tall. Maybe even an inch or two shorter than her, though if it was who she thought it was, that wouldn’t matter.

  It’s him.

  She rested her hand on the car next to her, using it to propel herself forward when her feet wanted to run in the opposite direction. Her steps were slow, but Tracy had to know if it was the man from her vision, the one whose identity had eluded her for almost a month. A deep, ominous feeling in the pit of her stomach seemed to already have the answer, but she had to know for sure.

  Halfway across the lot, the man flicked his cigarette into the street and pushed away from the streetlight. He started down the alley without so much as a glance her way. Tracy followed, though she kept her distance. All the while, her heart felt like it was going to pound right out of her chest. It was getting hard to breathe normally, and her head felt like it would float right off of her neck. The whole world felt like it was being turned upside down.

  Tracy slipped past the streetlight and watched as he made it halfway down the alley and abruptly stopped. Her breath caught in her throat.

  Did he notice me?

  For a while, he just stood there. It took Tracy a while to work up the nerve to go over there, but eventually she did. To her, the risk that she was taking was worth it if it meant getting the answers that she so desperately needed.

  She started down the alley, inching closer to the man as the rising tide of fear grew in her chest. Finally she reached him, though she was careful to stay an arm’s distance away.