Football Baby: A Secret Baby Romance

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Football Baby: A Secret Baby Romance Page 12

by Roxeanne Rolling


  I head back to the hotel, where I grab a shower. While I’m soaping up, my cock grows hard just thinking about Lauren.

  I get out and towel off, and start getting dressed.

  I can’t wait to be with her tonight. But I’m honestly also looking forward to just passing a pleasant evening with her and Sam. There’s something about that kid that I really like. It almost feels like he could have been my own son if things had turned out differently, and I guess that’s the truth.

  Maybe if Lauren had moved out to Seattle with me, maybe we would have had our own kid.

  But there’s no point in thinking about all this now.

  I drive over, and I head up to the door.

  Lauren greets me with a kiss and a big smile.

  She returns a moment later with Sam in tow.

  “Did you see us during the game?” says Sam. It’s the first thing he says to me.

  “I did,” I say, smiling at him, and giving him a wink. “You two looked great up on the big screen.”

  “But you saw us from the field too, right?” says Sam.

  I nod my head. “I did,” I say. “My best fans.”

  Sam beams.

  “Did you like watching the game?” I say, as we’re driving to the restaurant.

  “Yeah,” says Sam, before launching into everything he noticed there.

  He really is an observant kid. I get the sense he knows a lot more about football already than Lauren herself, even if she has been watching a lot of my games over the years.

  The dinner goes well. I tell them to order whatever they want—it’s all my treat. I get Sam a huge ice cream Sunday at the end of dinner, despite Lauren’s look of mild disapproval. If I wasn’t Sam’s hero already, this is the winning play.

  We finish up dinner and head drive back in separate cars to Lauren’s apartment, where Lauren puts Sam to bed, despite his protests.

  “I really like him,” I tell her. “He’s a really good kid. And really smart too.”

  She makes a strange face, an expression that I can’t quite read. “I’m glad you like him so much,” she says. I know he really looks up to you.”

  We start kissing on the couch. Soon our hands are all over each other, my right hand is up her shirt around her bra. My other hand is already fiddling with the buckle on her bra behind her, about to undo it. I can take a bra off quicker than a cowboy can draw his pistol, but I like to tease Lauren a little bit before I actually do it.

  “You sure Sam can’t hear us?” I say, suddenly remembering he’s in the other room.

  “The walls are really sound proof,” she says. “But maybe we should move to the bedroom.”

  “Good idea,” I say, and lead her by the hand to her bedroom.

  17

  Lauren

  I can’t take it. I need to have him. I’m like a giddy college kid again, the same one that hooked up with Dylan so often.

  My hand is on his cock as he leads me to the bedroom, and I love the feel of his thick cock that’s threatening to break through his jeans.

  I close the door silently.

  Fortunately, Sam’s a good, heavy sleeper. There’s nothing that can wake him up, and plus I’m positive that the bedroom is so sound proof no noise can escape at all. That’s good. It means I can scream all I want.

  Or more like scream all I need to. I’ve never been a screamer with anyone but Dylan, but he always does it to me, every time. I’m not actually sure whether they’re screams or moans—maybe the noises are a combination of both. Who knows?

  “I need to have you,” says Dylan, whispering into my ear. “Let’s take it slow.”

  “I don’t want to,” I say. “I want you to take me right now.”

  I can’t take it anymore. I can’t take the suspense of long drawn out foreplay right now. The entire time I was watching Dylan on the field in his football gear I wanted to jump his bones. Now’s my chance.

  How many other women are out there wishing they went home with Dylan Knight, the quarterback who won the game?

  Somehow, seeing him actually play football in person just turns me on more.

  “Take me now,” I say, moaning, as he massages me between my legs.

  Dylan does just what I want, without needing explicit instructions. The bed’s right next to us, but it seems like he can’t wait long for me either.

  He gently pushes me up against the wall, with my ass facing him. With one swift motion, he’s pulled my pants and my panties down around my knees. I don’t bother stepping out of them.

  His strong hands are on my breasts, his fingers toying with my nipples.

  I hear him unzipping his pants and pulling them down slightly.

  I reach behind myself and feel his hard cock that has sprung out. It’s more swollen than I could imagine. Each time I feel it or see it, it seems bigger than the last.

  He’s pulling my shirt up over my breasts, but leaves my bra on.

  “I can’t wait any longer,” he says, before kissing me deeply on my neck.

  I turn my head around slightly so that our mouths can connect—a deep and long kiss.

  As we’re kissing, the head of his cock pushes against me and I moan just from the contact.

  A couple moments later, he’s pushing it slowly inside me.

  “Oh, Dylan,” I cry out.

  “I know you like it,” he says, growling slightly. “I want to make you scream again.”

  And he means it.

  He starts off pumping slowly into me. But soon he’s increasing his speed. It feels amazing to be up against the wall, with him behind me. I’m sandwiched between this immensely powerful man and the cold hard wall.

  His hands are still on my breasts, which are pushed up against the wall too. The pleasure feels amazing. I love feeling like this.

  As he picks up his speed even more, I’m starting to moan like crazy.

  Dylan’s hands are gripping my hips like there’s no tomorrow, and he’s fucking like I’ve never been fucked before.

  “Oh my god,” I cry out, as I start to come.

  He comes at the same time, pushing his cock deep inside me as it releases its flood in me. I can feel it pumping and throbbing. He holds still like that, so that I’m pushed against the wall as I come. No room to thrash, but my hips our buckling against him, shoving his cock farther inside me.

  My vision goes white form the pleasure that’s coursing through me. It feels like an infinite and powerful current, an endless river of life and love.

  “I love it when you scream like that,” says Dylan, running his hands all over me.

  “I didn’t even realize I screamed,” I say, my breath still heavy and ragged from the session. “That was intense.”

  “Don’t worry,” says Dylan. “I’m not done with you yet.”

  “Once isn’t enough for you, is it?” I say.

  “Not with you,” he says, pulling me towards the bed.

  He’s pulling off his clothes quickly. Socks, watch—everything goes on the floor.

  He’s lying flat on his back, and as I’m unhooking my bra, he pulls me down on top of him.

  I’m straddling him. I love feeling his powerful chest with my hands, running my hands through his perfect amount of chest hair.

  The lights are all off, but I can see him in the light that’s creeping in from the streetlight outside.

  His chin is chiseled and his muscles are bulging and incredibly defined.

  I start grinding down against him, rubbing myself against his cock, but not letting it enter.

  For a second, I let just the tip of his cock enter me, but not for long. I pull myself off of him immediately afterwards.

  He groans, and arches his back, which I find incredibly hot.

  I continue the game, not letting him enter me, just teasing him with little sparks of penetration.

  Soon, he’s thrusting his hips upwards, trying to get his cock to reach me, but I always pull
away just in time.

  Finally, I can’t take it anymore myself, and I let myself sink onto his cock, enveloping him.

  He lets out a huge sigh of relief mixed with a groan, and I let out some kind of high-pitched moan.

  “Come on,” says Dylan. “Let me show you how it’s done.”

  He holds me by the sides tightly, and he thrusts his hips upwards, shooting his cock straight into me like a spear. It’s more intense not to mention faster than I could ride him myself.

  Soon I’m feeling like I’m about to come, and he slows down just in time, letting me ride him gently some more. I brace my hands against his hard chest as I ride him slowly and rhythmically.

  Finally, he flips me over as if I’m a rag doll. But before his cock enters me, he shifts his body, moving down on the bed, and begins licking me.

  He starts off slowly, just caressing the area with his tongue, mostly the outer area.

  “You’re dripping wet,” he says.

  “I know,” I say. “I’m ready for your cock. It’s all for you. My body wants you to be able to enter me easily.”

  “I love this kind of dirty talk,” he says.

  “It’s not dirty talk. It’s the truth.”

  Somehow, these words send me over the edge, and the next time his tongue contacts me in that most sensitive of areas, I let out a huge moan, as my back arches and my eyes close themselves on their own accord. My vision is going all blurry and getting white at the edges.

  “I can’t take it anymore,” says Dylan. “I need to be inside you again.”

  “Come up here, baby,” I say, grabbing him by the hair, and pulling him up towards me.

  As he gets up and on top of me, his cock slides into me easily.

  He starts off slow and rhythmically, and with each gentle thrust of his cock, I moan a little bit more, louder each time. My vision is getting a little whiter around the edges—the area is growing, overtaking my vision.

  I haven’t had this much sex in years…not since college with Dylan.

  My body is exhausted but at the same time completely on edge, waiting for the next delivery of immense pleasure. It’s a state of excitement and deep relaxation. I know nothing bad can happen when I’m with Dylan.

  It just feels safer with him in the house. And it feels even safer with him in the bed with me, and even safer still with him inside me.

  “You’re sure you’re on the pill, right?” says Dylan, a look of concern suddenly growing over his face.

  “You didn’t seem to have a problem coming inside me the last few times?”

  “I just…”

  “It’s fine,” I say. “Don’t worry. I told you. I’m on the pill. Now keep fucking me.”

  I grab him by the shoulders and pull him down towards me, so that his cock shoots up inside me further—hard and fast.

  I’ve gotten a lot more responsible since college, if that’s even possible. Never again have I missed a single day of taking birth control, even when I’ve gone up to a year without the slightest hint of having sex.

  But better safe than sorry.

  The single hard pull sends Dylan over the edge.

  Suddenly, he’s fucking me like there’s no tomorrow, fast and hard. Very hard. Fucking hard.

  He’s bracing himself against the mattress with his hands. I’m running my arms up and down his arm muscles, caressing his shoulders as he pounds his cock into me. Deep inside me.

  Finally, I’m coming.

  It seems to last forever. Dylan comes with me, but continues to fuck me hard as he does so. It’s a wonderful sensation as his cock spasms inside me but keeps moving in and out.

  There’s nothing like it.

  My vision is completely white, and when it’s all over, I flop back, completely exhausted.

  I don’t even think I can speak, but I somehow manage to say the words, “I don’t even think I can move.”

  “I feel the same way,” says Dylan, still on top of me.

  Finally, he rolls off, and I snuggle into the crook of his arm as I always do.

  “And you played and won a pro game today,” I say.

  “That wasn’t nearly as exhausting as you are,” he says.

  I smile at that.

  We lie in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the afterglow and the feeling of being close to each other.

  “Hey,” says Dylan, breaking the silence. “I’m heading back to Seattle soon.”

  Shit.

  The realization that he’s leaving suddenly hits me. I guess I’ve been pushing it out of my mind.

  After all, this was just a chance encounter that turned into something bigger. Does this mean he’s going to head back to Seattle and that’ll be the last time we ever see each other.

  As I wait for him to say what he’s going to say next, I’m wondering furiously whether or not this is something real. It’s real, isn’t it? Isn’t this more than just a few fuck sessions (albeit very hot ones) between old college lovers?

  “I was hoping you and Sam could come visit me in Seattle for a week or so,” he says.

  My heart leaps.

  “I can understand if you can’t come,” he says, obviously worried I’m going to say no, and wants to give me a way to politely bow out of the invitation.

  18

  Dylan

  I’m practically holding my breath and my hearth is thumping with anxiety.

  Did I misread everything? I thought this was developing into something serious, but maybe Lauren is just looking for some fun with an old college lover, not to mention a pro sports player.

  That’s really the thing I hate about being a football “star,” if I can call myself that—the women aren’t interested in real relationships. I’m more of a trophy to them.

  It’s the same as men carving notches in their belts or bedposts.

  “I know it could be hard if you have to take off work, and you’d have to bring Sam. But I’d pay for the tickets of course. If you come next week, you can see me in the next home game. It could be fun… There’s a lot of stuff to do in Seattle. It’d be fun to show Sam some things. I’ve already got a list of…”

  I feel like I’m grasping for straws here, and she’s not saying anything and it’s just making me all the more nervous.

  “Oh Dylan,” she says, kissing me. “You’re so sweet. Of course I’d love to come.”

  “Wow,” I say. “I wasn’t sure…”

  “Are you kidding? I was hoping this would turn into something more than just a fling. That’s where it’s going, right?”

  “I hope so,” I say, giving her a wink and a kiss, leaning over her so that I’m twisted and partially on top of her again.

  We eventually fall asleep in each other’s arms.

  The next morning I need to be getting back to meet the team at the airport. Actually, I have to stop by the hotel first to pick up all my stuff.

  It’s such a nice change from the jocky antics of my teammates—being with Lauren and Sam, that is. I’m surprised that I love the family vibe thing so much. There’s just something peaceful and calming about the whole thing, not to mention warm and loving. Well, I can feel the love between Lauren and Sam palpably, and it makes me want the same thing in my own life.

  Could I join this family?

  We share a quick breakfast. This time Lauren cooks, making pancakes which are so delicious you don’t even need to put syrup on them. But of course Sam and I both douse ours in maple syrup, making jokes about needing an energy burst.

  Sam wants to know even more about the game yesterday.

  Lauren interrupts him as some point. “How would you like to go to visit Dylan in Seattle, Sam? He’s invited us out there, and we can go to one of his games while we’re there. Plus, there’s a lot of cool stuff to do in Seattle.”

  “Yeah,” I say, beginning to list some of the sites.

  “Wow,” says Sam. “That’d be awesome.”

  Lauren and
I both smile at each other.

  “I can’t wait to see you guys out there,” I say. “Unfortunately I’ve got to get back to the team. The airport calls.”

  “I’ll miss you,” says Lauren, coming up to me and giving me a kiss. This is the first time she’s kissed me in front of Sam.

  Sam makes a cute face of mild disgust. Typical kid stuff.

  “Are you guys going to get married or something?” says Sam.

  We both flush a deep red. I have no idea what to say.

  Lauren saves the day. “Enough questions for now, Sam. Dylan’s got to get going.”

  Sam shakes my hand solemnly at the door when I’m leaving. “I look forward to seeing you again in Seattle,” he says. I laugh at the solemn sincerity and maturity of his words, and give him a big hug.

  “I’m looking forward to it, too,” I say.

  Lauren gives me another hug and a kiss.

  “See you soon,” I say. “Let me know about your work schedule and I’ll send you the ticket information by email.”

  She nods her head and there’s a single tear in her eye. “I’m going to really miss you,” she says.

  I kiss her again and turn and walk down the steps to the street.

  Great, back to the dumb jock crowd. I do love playing football, but right now if there wasn’t money in it, I’d probably just assume do something else for a while…a regular job, settle down and have a family.

  I think about what Sam said…getting married. Wow, I don’t know what to think.

  When I finally make it back to the hotel (Baltimore traffic is rough in the mornings), Coach wants to have a word with me, of course.

  “It’s not that I don’t appreciate the way you played yesterday,” says coach. “But…”

  But… There’s always a “but” with coach. That should be his nickname. Why can’t he just get off my back? I’m carrying the team, after all.

  But as I’m listening to him ramble on with his various complaints about some details of how I played yesterday, I realize I could never give up football. This is a weird time to realize it, when coach is giving me a hard time for no reason at all. But I guess it’s him reminding me about the game: I could never give up the rush I feel when a pass is completed, when we score a touchdown…

 

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