He blew out a loud breath. “I dunno.”
“Come on, JT. What’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
“I told you. I’m happy with this arrangement. We’re both getting what we want. So what’s the problem?”
“I guess nothing.”
“Good.”
“But I still think we should cool it for a bit.” I’m so weak. “At least for tonight.”
“Okay, if that’s what you want.”
JT nodded, wanting to kick his own ass for about a hundred different reasons.
Sydney went up on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek, a sweet gesture which seemed so at odds with what they’d been doing only a short time ago. “See ya tomorrow?”
“Yeah, tomorrow.”
“Wait for me after the game, okay? Don’t flake out.”
“Okay.”
JT went home, wondering what kind of messed-up person he was that he still wanted Sydney but felt guilty about it.
* * * * *
The next day when he arrived at the press box she was already there, handing out the game notes and chatting with various members of the media. He sat down and set up his laptop, carrying on a casual conversation with one of the television reporters. She dropped his paperwork in front of him and gave him a little smile before moving on down the line. Vince was nowhere to be found and JT wondered what the asshole’s nose was looking like today. Given how much it had bled he guessed he’d broken it, and a strange sense of male satisfaction stole over him. He shouldn’t be proud of injuring another guy, but given the circumstances, he was, and he’d do it again if Vince dared to say anything about what he’d seen or made another crack about Sydney.
The game passed quickly. It was a closer game than some recent ones and JT had to pay close attention to be sure he didn’t miss anything. When it ended he did as he’d said he would—he waited for Sydney. This time when she entered the press box she locked the door behind her. His cock rose as if he were Pavlov’s dog. He stood, but she pushed him back down and took him out of his khakis, humming with appreciation when he throbbed in her hand. She began to lower her head, but he finally gathered his wits and gently pushed her away.
“I wanna be inside you this time.”
She smiled. “How can I refuse?”
“You aren’t supposed to refuse.” He glanced toward the door. “Are you sure it’s locked?”
“I’m sure.”
“Then get up on the table.”
Sydney hopped up. “Have you noticed I’ve been wearing skirts every game?”
“I did,” JT answered, smirking. “Easy access. I like it.” He reached underneath her black skirt and pulled her cute little bikini panties down her legs and threw them on the table next to her. Then he pulled a condom out of his pocket.
“Let me,” she said, taking it from his hand and ripping open the foil packet with her teeth. For some reason that was an incredibly erotic sight and his dick hardened even more, sitting almost flat against his stomach. She quickly and efficiently rolled the latex down his shaft and then leaned back, spreading her legs. JT moved forward but the angle wasn’t right. Frowning, he grasped Sydney’s hips and tugged until her ass was resting right on the edge of the table. He took his cock in hand and guided it to her pussy, running it up and down her folds to lubricate it.
“I need you, JT.” Sydney bit her bottom lip and looked up at him with heavily lidded eyes.
“You’re gonna get me, but we need to go slow. I don’t wanna hurt you.”
“You won’t hurt me.” She wound her legs around his waist and tilted her pelvis toward him. “I’ve been thinking about this all day.”
“Me too,” JT confessed, finally pushing into her hot, wet pussy for the first time. A long, low groan worked its way from the depths of his chest. “Fuck, you feel so good.”
“You do too.” She sounded breathless and he took a second to admire her heaving breasts in her polo shirt.
He set up a hard, fast rhythm, knowing instinctively Sydney wouldn’t want it any other way. She arched her back, sending him even deeper inside the warm clasp of her pussy. “Shit, this is incredible.” He wasn’t sure how long he was gonna last, and so he took Sydney’s arm and brought her fingers down to cover her own clit. “Touch yourself for me. Show me what you like.” Sydney groaned and he watched as her hand sped up. His orgasm was already working down his spine and he knew he wasn’t far from coming. “That’s it, babe. Come for me. Come on my cock.”
The sound that came out of Sydney’s mouth could hardly be classified as human, and he continued to pump in and out, hoping like hell she’d come before he did.
“Ah God, I’m coming,” she gasped.
“Yeah, Syd. Come for me. Take me with you.” JT felt her internal muscles start to spasm and went over the edge himself. He swore and continued to thrust through his own orgasm.
Sydney’s body was locked around him like a vise as the contractions continued to roll through her pussy and onto his dick. With one final spurt, he was done. Planting his palms on the table on either side of her, he gulped badly needed oxygen. She was panting, her head resting against the window of the press box. With no small measure of regret, he pulled out of her tight clasp and disposed of the condom, hiding it underneath a whole bunch of other trash in the can. When he returned, Sydney was standing, but still leaning on the table as she put her panties back on. She turned to him.
“That was fun.”
“That’s one word to describe it…”
“I didn’t mean to insult you.”
JT laughed. “I don’t feel insulted.”
She grinned. “Yeah, I’m guessing you know you’re good in bed.”
He scoffed. “Hardly.”
“You hardly know or you’re hardly good?”
“Well, let’s just say that though I’ve never had any complaints. I’ve also never had a woman scream my name from the rooftops.”
“Do you want me to scream your name, JT?” She tilted her head and gave him a little half-smile.
“God, no. Someone might hear.”
“Hmm, good point.”
“So how long are we gonna do this?”
She looked surprised. “As long as you’re game, I’m game.”
“Why aren’t you looking for a boyfriend?”
“Not every woman wants a boyfriend. Sometimes, like men, we just want to fuck.” She shrugged. “I mean, sure, we’ve got vibrators and stuff, but when it comes down to it, a warm male body is usually better. That doesn’t mean I want someone following me around, making demands on my time and attention.”
“You’re doing this with me because I’m a warm male body?”
Sydney’s eyes softened. “No, JT. I like you. I’ve liked you since the moment we met.”
“Well, that’s good,” he grumbled.
“But I’ve got a lot going on. I don’t have time for a boyfriend right now. Besides, would you really want to date me? I still have a year left of undergrad and then I’m going on for my master’s in sports management.”
JT groaned. “And I’ve already been at the paper for twenty years. Man, I feel old.”
“You’re not old,” she insisted. “So in the end this arrangement works out well for both of us.”
“Yeah, it does.”
“Good, then I’ll see you next game.”
“Next game.”
Sydney kissed him on the cheek again and then stole out of the room. He stared after her. What had he done to deserve this? Whatever it was, he wanted to keep doing it.
The End
About the Author
Cassandra Carr is a multi-published author of erotic romance. She thinks the best part of being a writer is how she writes about love and sex all day (and all night!) while most everyone else she knows is struggling with daily commutes, micro-managing bosses and cranky coworkers. The inspiration for her stories comes from everywhere, but she’d particularly like to thank the Buffalo Sabres, the hockey team near and dear t
o her heart. Yes, she knows way too much about the Sabres and hockey in general, but hey, everyone has to have a hobby, right?
Cassandra lives in Western New York with her husband, Inspiration, and her daughter, Too Cute for Words. When not writing, she enjoys watching a few select shows on television and hanging out on Twitter. For more information about Cassandra, check out her website.
Cassandra welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email addresses on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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Take Me at the Ballgame
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