by B. B. Hamel
He took my hips and started to fuck me harder, deeper. I took him deep inside me, not caring about anything as he fucked me roughly.
He pulled my shirt up, showing my breasts still covered by my black bra. “I love your fucking body,” he said. “These tits, your lips, I love every inch of you.” He kissed my chest, my neck, his cock buried deep between my legs. I began to move my hips, grinding myself against him.
I ran my hands along his ripped arms, feeling his hard muscles. I loved the way he felt against me, the way he controlled me and took what he wanted.
He pulled back, pulling his cock out of me. I gasped as he pulled me down off the statue’s base and turned me around. I put my palms flat on the stone as he spread my legs wide and slapped my ass.
“Look at this pussy dripping,” he said. “Fuck, girl, you want this big dick back inside you, don’t you?”
“Please,” I begged, looking over my shoulder. “I want to come so badly. Please, fuck me hard. Do whatever you want with me, Gibson.”
He took my hips and pressed his cock deep inside me. I moaned as he filled me up from behind.
He began to fuck me harder. Before he had been gentle and slow, but now he was fucking me however he wanted. He was fucking my pussy rough and deep, and I loved the slap of his skin against mine. Pleasure rocketed through my body, and I moaned loudly, unable to stop myself.
He reached up and put a hand over my mouth. “You’ll wake up the whole fucking campus,” he said, laughing. “Fuck, Avery, do I need to keep you quiet?”
“Yes,” I said between his fingers.
“Oh, you dirty fucking girl.” He began to fuck me again, one hand over my mouth. I tried not to moan too loudly, but I couldn’t help it. He kept his hand firmly covering my mouth, muting the moans as he fucked me rough.
I bucked my hips back up against him, working myself, taking him deep inside me. I was practically dripping; I was just so wet. I could feel myself teetering on the edge of an orgasm as he fucked me.
There was nothing else in my mind but Gibson taking me. I was his, every inch of me was his, every fiber of me was his. Gibson fucked me rough and deep, taking my pussy like an animal. I was sweating, but I didn’t care as I moaned into his palm.
And slowly, the orgasm built and tipped as he worked my body. I gripped the base of the statue, my fingers digging into the stone, as he fucked me savagely and deeply, his cock filling my every inch. He held his palm tight against my mouth as I came, losing control of myself completely.
I couldn’t have been quiet even if I had wanted to. He fucked me harder, deeper.
“Oh shit,” he moaned. “Fuck, hearing you come. I’m going to fill you up.”
“Please,” I said, muffled. “Come inside me.”
He grunted as he stiffened. My whole body was twitching, contracting, as he came deep inside my pussy. His cum filled me as he fucked me rough and deep. It drove me absolutely insane, pushing my orgasm to deeper heights.
Slowly we came down together. The orgasm lingered in the corners of my mind as he slowly pulled his cock out from inside me. I collapsed against the statue, breathing deeply.
He pulled me tight against him, holding me. “Fuck, Avery,” he said. “God damn. I nearly blacked out. Fuck, your pussy is incredible.”
“You’re incredible,” I said, kissing his lips.
“I aim to please.”
I pressed my head against his chest. The orgasm had passed and I was back to reality. I couldn’t help but wonder if someone had heard us, but it didn’t really matter.
All that mattered was that I was in his arms. The moon was bright and clear in the sky as we stayed there, hidden behind the statue. I felt like we were in our own little world out there as he pressed me close against him.
Maybe it was just the orgasm, but I felt so completely at peace. The thought of my parents, the stress of being pregnant, everything with Gibson, it was all gone.
There was just him and me. That was perfect.
19
Gibson
The ball left my hand in a perfect spiral.
I threw again and again, hitting the targets each time. I practiced my footwork, dropping back and maintaining balance, before throwing the ball like a laser.
Throw after throw, ball after ball. I kept thinking about that night, about Avery’s body in the moonlight, about the way it felt to press myself deep between her legs. Playing football and fucking weren’t so different, really. It was all about body mechanics, about doing the right thing at the right time. Of course, in fucking there was that extra special layer of passion and desire that you couldn’t really replicate through practice.
The ball left my hand, a tight spiral. It hit the receiver in his hands. I was sweating, my body tired but strong, as the ball left my hand and hit the receiver.
Sunday morning practices after a game were light and easy. There was no hitting, no hard running or lifting, just basic skills stuff. I was throwing and doing footwork drills, but nothing that left me exhausted. My body still ached from the game, but it felt good to move around.
Last night, after we had dressed, I walked Avery back to her apartment. I’d wanted to tell her about what was in the duffel bag, but I was afraid of how she’d react. We barely knew each other, and I figured she might freak out if she knew what I had done to help her out. Still, I wanted her to know how far I was willing to go for my child.
It never came up, and so we never talked about it. I had kissed her goodbye at her door and then left. She showed up at my place before practice to take my vitals, walked me to the field, and left when I went inside. We talked about nothing in particular, but there was a comfort that hadn’t existed before.
I needed to fuck her. I needed to feel what it was like to be inside her again. I needed to remember that, to remind myself why I wanted this girl so badly. It was more than just her body that I wanted, but her body made it so much sweeter.
Drills slowly wound down, and eventually we headed into the locker room. Coach took me into a back room and set up some game tape for me to watch to prepare for the next game.
But today was something different. Instead of tape for the upcoming game, Coach put on tape of the previous game, in particular the first half.
“Watch,” Coach said as he started the game. I saw myself dropping back to pass. “See this?” I stepped up and threw the ball, but it was wildly overthrown.
I remembered doing that. I had done it on purpose.
“What happened there?” he asked.
“I didn’t judge the distance,” I said. “I was getting rushed.”
“You don’t look rushed,” he said. “You were eyeing the receiver the whole damn way, and you still overthrew him.”
He switched over to another play. This time I was dropping back to pass as the defense was closing in on me. I tried running at the last second, but it was way too late, and I got knocked to the ground.
“See that?” he asked. “You didn’t scramble. You saw them coming and you didn’t move. Plus, you had Reggie wide open.”
“I didn’t see him,” I said.
“Bullshit,” Coach answered. “Bullshit you didn’t. You’ve never missed a throw like that in your whole damn career. What happened to you yesterday?”
I shook my head. I couldn’t tell him the truth. He’d throw me off the team, and my entire career, everything I’d worked for, would be ruined.
I hated lying to Coach Taylor. He’d brought me into MD and molded me into the player I was. He was a serious man who took things hard, and I couldn’t imagine disappointing him. I knew he cared about all his players, but he would never forgive me if he knew the truth.
“I had the first-game jitters,” I said. “I was nervous, thinking about pro scouts.”
“Fuck the pro scouts, Gibson. You’re good at this, son. You need to just play your game.”
“I know,” I said. “I got myself together.”
“You did. The second half you were a completel
y different person.” He frowned at me. “Listen, if you ever need to talk about anything, and I mean absolutely anything, you come to me. Okay? You come talk to me.”
“I’m good, Coach,” I said.
“I know you are. But if you ever need help with something, I can help you. Understand?”
“I understand,” I said.
He nodded and then turned on the game tape for next week.
I tried to pay attention, but I was so damn distracted the whole time. I kept thinking about how I had let my team down by throwing that first half and how fucking dangerous it had been. I’d risked everything just for a few thousand dollars to help Avery and my child out. I didn’t regret it, but I knew it had been stupid.
And the mob still wanted me to throw an entire game. I couldn’t imagine doing that, but the money they were offering was so damn good. It would be enough to take care of Avery and my kid until after the draft. It would be more than enough to make everything right.
But if Coach noticed these things in just one bad half, what would he say about an entire game? If I screwed up too badly, he might actually pull me and I could never start again. I might throw away my entire career, all for one game.
Eventually the game study session ended and I had the rest of the afternoon off. I wandered over to Dom’s with Hynes and Drinkwater to grab something to eat, but I couldn’t pay attention to their usual bullshit.
I was just too distracted. I had the mob taking over one half of my mind and Avery taking over the other. I was worried about making the wrong decision with the mafia and was stuck thinking about Avery’s body working mine. Not to mention all her measurements and her study project shit. I felt like I was juggling a thousand balls at once, and at any moment I could drop them all, ruining everything.
Things were moving faster and faster. I needed to be on top of my shit, or else I was going to lose, and I never fucking lost anything in my life.
I wasn’t about to start now.
20
Avery
I was nervous as I walked into the student health center, but I didn’t need to be. It was Monday morning, and I had skipped all my classes to make this appointment.
The nurses were beyond nice. They set me up in a room, got me dressed in a gown, and set me up for the doctor. When the doctor came in, I felt incredibly relieved that it was a woman, about my mom’s age.
We went over my medical history, did a pelvic exam, breast exam, pap smear, took some blood, and finally I peed into a cup. All throughout, the doctor talked to me about my pregnancy and went over as many lifestyle changes as she could think of.
By the end, I felt exhausted, although it had probably only been an hour.
“Any questions?” Doctor Green asked.
“No,” I said. “I don’t think so.”
She laughed. “You will have plenty sooner or later. The nurses will give you a bunch of pamphlets and websites to check out, and my card will be with all that stuff. Feel free to call me anytime you have a question, day or night. Okay?”
“Wow,” I said. “Thank you. Do you offer that sort of thing to everyone?”
She smiled. “Just the young pregnant mothers. Remember, you’re not just living for yourself anymore. You have a baby to think about.”
“Thanks, doctor,” I said.
“Fortunately, you look like you’re in great health. We’ll get the blood work, urine work, and the pap smear back soon, so expect a call within the next few days.”
“Okay, I will.”
She stood up. “Okay, Avery, good luck. Make sure you come back soon, and don’t hesitate to call.”
“Thanks again.”
She smiled and left, and I felt like I had a handle on this thing for the first time.
I was eight weeks pregnant and things were just getting started, but Doctor Green had walked me through it all and told me all about what I should expect. Before I had just had a bunch of opinions of various women on blogs and websites, but now I finally was able to talk to an actual doctor about this stuff.
I left the health center feeling better than I had in days, with the exception of that night with Gibson.
I could hardly believe what had happened as we walked away from the statue that night. He walked me back to my apartment and even kissed me good night. I was floating on a cloud all that night and the next day.
I saw him Sunday morning, and again Sunday afternoon, but he had practice and tutoring and another team meeting later that night. I suggested we meet up later, but he had passed out asleep at around eight that night, or at least that was what he texted me the next morning.
I shouldn’t have been suspicious, not after the way he treated me that night, the way he touched me, kissed me, fucked me. I shouldn’t have been suspicious, but I just kept seeing Cathy down on her knees in front of him, that sexy look on her face.
I sat down on a bench outside the health center and took a deep breath. I was feeling a little crazy and stupid, and I needed to get myself together. I pulled out my phone and sent Harper a quick text to let her know that everything had gone well, and then I looked at my messages with Gibson.
I bit my lip. I told him I’d let him know how the health center went. I couldn’t just ignore him, especially considering this was his baby too. He had offered to come with me and at least just sit in the waiting room, but I told him that wasn’t necessary.
I typed him a message. “Just left the doctor’s, everything went great.”
He answered almost right away. “Good! I was waiting for you to text.”
That made me smile. “Really? Waiting with bated breath?”
“Not sure what bated breath actually is, but more like a hard cock.”
I laughed. “Great. This is the mother of your future child you’re talking to.”
“Exactly. All the more reason to make her feel as sexy as I think she is.”
I couldn’t help but grin like an idiot at my phone. “Well now I’m sitting out in public, feeling very sexy, and you’re nowhere in sight.”
“Don’t tempt me. I’d skip class for a chance at that pussy any day.”
“Don’t get yourself in trouble.”
“Where are you? I’ll be there in five. Go ahead and warm yourself up if you want.”
“Oh wow. Such a gentleman.”
“Okay, don’t. I’d be more than happy to lick that pussy top to bottom until your toes curl.”
“I’m not against that.”
“Listen, come to my apartment tonight. We can celebrate your clean bill of health.”
“Is this your really obvious attempt at getting me alone in your room?”
“Yes. I want to slide my cock deep inside you from behind, watch that ass push back down along my length. Can’t stop thinking about my palm over your mouth as I fucked you.”
I bit my lip, my pussy suddenly dripping wet. Gibson had a way with words that made me incredibly hot.
“Since you ask politely, I guess I can stop by.”
“Come over at ten. I’ll be done tutoring by then.”
“Okay. See you then.”
I slipped my phone back into my pocket, a dumb smile plastered across my face.
Every time I had doubts about him, something always managed to make me feel better. Usually it was just talking to him that made me feel good. Gibson was doing his best to do the right thing and then some, and I had to get rid of my lingering doubts.
He wasn’t just the bad boy the media made him out to be. He wasn’t just some kid from the wrong side of the tracks with a penchant for partying and drinking. He was smart, sexy, and made me feel good. He was the father of my unborn child.
I couldn’t keep having these prejudices against him. So what if he was a famous football player? It wasn’t his fault that people chased him around, wanting things from him. He clearly didn’t like it when people kept coming to him with their hands outs, or when girls dropped to their knees and offered to suck him off just for winning some game. He was
proud and he worked hard. Everything he had, he had earned.
I stood up and headed off to the library. I was going to get a few hours of studying in to make up for skipping classes before I got dinner and told Harper about my little date.
It was going to be pretty hard to concentrate, though, with those messages Gibson sent me to read over and think about.
Hours later, I was showered and dressed. I had butterflies in my stomach as I rode my bike the short distance from my apartment to Gibson’s.
I parked and climbed off, locking it up. The doctor told me riding the bike was fine early on, so I was relieved about that and didn’t have to worry about it just yet. I went into his building and slowly walked up the steps.
It was ten after ten, and Gibson had already texted to let me know that he was home. He even conveniently added that Hynes was out for the night.
I knocked. A second later, the door opened.
Gibson was wearing jeans and a button-down shirt. He looked absolutely gorgeous. I saw a hint of the tattoos that I knew spread up his body, and he smirked at me.
“There’s my baby momma,” he said.
“Cut it out.” I walked into the apartment and he shut the door behind me.
“I can’t help it. I’m just happy everything is good.”
“Seriously. I can’t handle you calling me your ‘baby momma.’ It’s just too weird.”
He laughed and walked into the kitchen. “All right. Your call, princess.” He pulled open the refrigerator and held up a green champagne bottle. “How about a toast?”
I frowned. “You know I can’t drink.”
“Oh come on,” he said, popping the cork out, “it’ll be fine.”
“Seriously, Gibson, are you kidding?”
He grinned at me. “It’s sparkling cider. I’m not an asshole.”