Football Baby: A Secret Baby Romance

by Roxeanne Rolling

  Maybe I’m just in a good mood because of last night with Lauren, and because she and Sam are going to visit me in Seattle, but I’m feeling warm towards coach and all my teammates.

  I slap a few of them on the back as I see them. This isn’t typical behavior for me, and they look at me a little puzzled at first, but soon we’re all joking around again.

  Even the guys I’ve had beefs with are kidding around with me, and at the airport waiting for the plane, we’re telling stories of old games. Some of the stories are absolutely hilarious—about times and plays that went horribly wrong, as wrong as a play could ever go.

  Sometimes the best stories are the ones where nothing ever worked out right at all, not in the least bit.

  I hope that’s not how my story with Lauren is going to end.

  19

  Lauren

  I’m surprised, but I get the vacation week from both jobs without any problems.

  Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I haven’t taken a single day of vacation in at least two years. And the last time I did take a personal day, it was to take Sam to the doctor. Fortunately, he’s been very healthy for a long time now.

  I send Dylan a text, and he responds with a big smiley face. A little cheesy, but I like it. It makes me feel warm inside that he wants me to bring Sam to meet him in Seattle.

  About four minutes later, he sends me the ticket information.

  Wow, this is really happening. We’re leaving tomorrow, so I get Sam to work packing. He ends up just packing some remote control cars (the cheap ones that I could afford at the time for Christmas gifts) along with a few volumes of his beloved encyclopedia sets.

  “You need to pack some clothes, too, Sam,” I say. “And it rains a lot in Seattle. We need to be sure to bring rain coats.”

  We’re doing this all before school. After all, it’s a Monday, so I take him in.

  The teachers don’t have a problem with him missing a week, especially after I explain to them that we’re headed to Seattle—they’re just happy that Sam can see some of the sites in Seattle. After all, he’s never been out of Baltimore before. I’ve never had the chance to take him anywhere, and they say it’s going to be good for a smart kid like him. I also get the sense that they’re happy that Sam will be out of the classroom for a week. I know he can be quite a handful. He’s never satisfied with simple answers, for instance, and always wants to ask question after question. I think he’s been overwhelming the kindergarten teachers.

  I head back home to the apartment, leaving Sam at school. This is the first day free I’ve had to myself in a long, long time.

  I open up my computer to browse for some kitchen cabinets that I’m never going to be able to afford, just to take my mind off things, and there’s an email from Dylan that’s only about two minutes old. “You online?” he writes.

  What are the chances I’d be online? I’m never online.

  “Yeah,” I write back. “What’s up?”

  “You want to video chat?”

  I downloaded the video chat program about a year ago but haven’t used it much. Once in a while my mom and dad want to talk to Sam, so we’ve pretty much only used it for that.

  “Sure,” I write.

  I open up the chat program and wait for everything to load. The computer’s so old that it seems to take forever. If this thing dies on me, I don’t know when I’ll be able to afford a new one. There go the kitchen cabinets of my dreams.

  Suddenly, and I don’t know why, I’m struck with a horrible feeling of dread.

  Maybe it’s the impending video chat, but the trip to Seattle suddenly feels real.

  This relationship might really be going somewhere.

  I’ve let it slip from my mind recently that Sam’s Dylan’s kid. Well, I’m always remembering that in a way, but what I’ve allowed myself to forget is that Dylan doesn’t have any idea Sam is his.

  What will he do if he finds out? I need to tell him, but if I do tell him, how will he react? Will he even want to keep seeing me, after I deceived him for so long? Five years is a long time, and it’ll be even worse now that we’ve spent all this time together feeling so close.

  When the chat loads, all these fears vanish.

  The image on the screen is of Dylan stretched out on his bed, naked from the waist up, his abs practically rippling. His jeans are unbuckled, and I can see the huge bulge in his boxers, his cock about to peek through.

  “What you up to over there?” I say, trying not to giggle.

  But really I’m just really turned on.

  I see his hand sliding into his boxers before he says anything. He’s staring at me (on his computer screen) with a burning intensity.

  “I thought we could have a little fun today, even though we’re thousands of miles apart.”

  “You can’t wait until tomorrow, really, Dylan?” I say.

  “Nope,” he says, his hand moving suspiciously in his boxers.

  “What are you doing with that hand of yours anyway?” I say.

  “Touching my cock,” he says, starting to laugh.

  “You thought this would turn me on?”

  “Yup,” he says, completely confident in himself, not a trace of self-embarrassment.

  “Well you’re right,” I say.

  My hand is out of view on the computer screen, but it’s sliding down into my pants. I just can’t help myself. Seeing him like this is turning me on so much. And the thought that he’s turned on by me and can’t even wait until tomorrow when I’ll be there in the flesh makes it all the more hot.

  “Why don’t you practice your dirty talk,” says Dylan. “Wait…” a thought occurring to him, a look of worry coming across his face. “Sam isn’t there, is he?”

  “He’s at school,” I say. “I’ve got the whole place to myself for the first time in years.”

  “Well let’s hear that dirty talk loud and clear then,” says Dylan.

  “I want to see your bulging cock,” I say. Then I add, “how was that?”

  Dylan just nods. “It worked, if that’s what you want to know.”

  He slowly pulls his cock out. It looks big enough in person, but for some reason it looks massive on the computer screen. It’s practically throbbing, and I can see the veins running along the sides.

  He’s stroking it ever so slowly, using just two fingers.

  I’m already using my fingers on myself furiously.

  “Now let’s see what you’re up to over there,” says Dylan.

  “It’s embarrassing,” I say.

  “Why not, though? Look at the view you’re getting. Don’t I get to see anything, too?”

  “Fine,” I say, lowering the camera so that it’s focused on my breasts, which in the moment aren’t getting any action, or doing anything at all.

  “Now I can’t see your face,” says Dylan. “Can you try pushing it back a little?”

  “Just a minute,” I say, getting up and putting the laptop on the nightstand next to my bed. Now I lie back, and look at the way my image is displaying on the screen. “That better?”

  “That’s really hot,” says Dylan, starting to stroke his cock a little faster, and I notice now that he’s using an extra couple fingers, almost making a complete fist around his bulging throbbing long hard cock.

  “I love seeing you stroke your cock like that,” I say, trying out some more dirty talk. I guess I’m fine talking dirty when we’re together physically, but it’s a little hard to get used to over the video chat program.

  “Let me see your breasts,” says Dylan.

  I pick up my shirt a little, so that my breasts in my black bra are visible. I run my hands over them, rubbing them a little.

  “That’s so hot,” says Dylan.

  I’m getting really turned on by the whole situation.

  “I’ve never done anything like this,” I say.

  “Neither have I.”

  That makes me feel be
tter. Not that I would have suspected anything else, but you never know. Well, to tell you the truth, I would have thought that Dylan wouldn’t have had any need for this kind of computer stuff…he probably could get almost any woman he wanted, being a star quarterback and all, not to mention really hot.

  Dylan’s bucking his hips slightly as he increased the speed he’s stroking his cock with.

  I’m so turned on, pretty soon I’m not just putting my hand down my pants, but I’m sliding my own pants down below my knees so that I can spread my legs out. It feels liberating to do this, to “relax” like this in my own apartment.

  If Dylan and I lived together, we wouldn’t ever have to do this. But we could be with each other every day in bed. I don’t mention this out loud. I don’t want to scare him off.

  There was something else I didn’t want to mention to him for fear of scaring him off. Oh yeah, it was that whole thing about him being a dad. Better not mention that to him now. Better not think about that now.

  That’s easy enough to do though.

  Soon with my legs splayed open, I’m going to town on myself. I’ve got a finger in myself, and the other finger rubbing my clitoris like there’s no tomorrow. I usually like to go soft and gentle when it’s the rare occasion that I do have some time to myself and I’m not too exhausted…but Dylan has me already practically over the edge.

  “I love watching you stroke your hard shaft like that,” I say.

  “Ughhh,” grunts Dylan.

  “What kind of sexy dirty talk is that?” I say, before realizing that he’s already come.

  Feeling his cock shoot its stuff inside me is some thing, but seeing it on camera up close is quite another. His cock actually jerks as it throws its stuff upward. It’s fucking hot.

  It’s so fucking hot I’m coming myself in another instant.

  “Whoah,” I say, when the orgasm has died down. “You really didn’t hold back did you?”

  “You didn’t either.”

  “I was trying too. But you’re too hot. And I liked the sight of you coming so much that it really pushed me over that final hurdle.”

  “This was fun,” says Dylan. “Let’s do this again sometime.”

  “I hope not,” I say. “I don’t want to have to do this over the computer.”

  “You’re right, it’s much better in person.”

  “But this isn’t a bad substitute, as far as substitutes go.”

  “Not really. So, changing subjects, is everything OK with the flights?”

  “I think so. It’s been forever since I’ve flown, so I’m a little nervous about it.”

  “There’s nothing to it, you’ll be fine.”

  “There’s just one thing I’m not sure about,” I say, not quite sure how to phrase it. “But we’re staying with you right? I wasn’t sure if I should get a hotel or what…”

  Dylan starts laughing.

  “What did you think I meant when I said I wanted you to come visit me and stay in my place?”

  “I don’t know,” I say. “I mean I was hoping we’d stay at your place. I just wanted to double check. Is there room enough for me and Sam there?”

  “It’s not much,” says Dylan. “But there’s a room for Sam to stay in. I’m going to clean it up today. And you can stay with me.” He grins as he says this last part. His excitement makes the whole thing seem more interesting, like some grand adventure.

  “I thought you’d have bought something fancy with all that football money?”

  “Are you kidding?”

  “Oh yeah, Rimbaud and all that. How does the line go? Something about an overcoat becoming ideal?”

  “That’s pretty much it,” says Dylan. “Yeah, I never saw the point in spending a lot of money on myself. If I had a family, though, that’d be different. A different thing all together…” He sort of trails off there, not sure what to say apparently.

  Maybe we’re wondering the same thing? Could we be a family?

  “Why don’t you show me the famous Dylan Knight’s castle of solitude?” I say.

  “The grand tour? Sure, I think I can arrange something,” he says, laughing.

  I watch as he pulls up his pants and zippers them again, fastening his belt buckle. He disappears from the screen for a moment and returns wearing a white t shirt. He looks hot, like a construction worker or something from the fifties, with just his jeans and shirt. Sometimes guys look best in the simplest clothes

  Dylan shows me around the apartment, holding his laptop in front of him, so that I can get a first hand view of everything.

  His apartment isn’t fancy, but it’s definitely a couple steps above the apartment I currently share with Sam.

  He’s cleaner than some bachelors, but there’s a lot that needs to change. I catch myself thinking as if I’m planning to move in. Is that even in the cards?

  If I move in, I’d certainly have to tell him about Sam, right? And how would Dylan react? I’m worried he’d break up with me right then and there, and then there’d be a messy custody battle over Sam. Surely the judges wouldn’t look favorably on a situation like this, where I’ve hid Sam from Dylan for six whole years, right?

  We chat a little bit more, about the trip, and about the apartment, and eventually we say goodbye and hang up.

  “See you soon,” I say, blowing Dylan a kiss.

  “Very soon,” says Dylan, blowing me a kiss too, through the computer screen. It almost feels real.

  20

  Dylan

  I’ve just got one day of practice to get to before Lauren and Sam show up. I spend a lot of time trying to clean up as best I can. I’d never tell Lauren this, but the apartment she thought was messy was actually the ‘clean’ version of my apartment. I’d been busy for two hours before talking to her on the video chat, so that it would look presentable. But it looks like I’ve still got a lot of cleaning to do.

  I spend a few hours trying to pick up even more. I thought I was going to have time to make lasagna or something, based off a recipe I found on the internet. But it doesn’t look like it now.

  I head to practice only to find that coach wants to have a long chat with me before I even step into the locker-room. I guess coaches really focus on quarterbacks a lot more than the other players. It’s one of the downsides of being a quarterback.

  “Have you been following the sports news, recently?” says coach, peering into my eyes, to try to see if I’m going to tell the truth or not. It isn’t enough that I won the last game with my skill alone—well, the team helped, for sure. But they couldn’t have done it without me. And that’s not hubris or arrogance talking. That’s just the truth. Trust me, if I wasn’t playing well, I’d be the first to admit it. Anyway, it all isn’t enough—coach has to ramble on and on.

  “I haven’t really,” I say. “I mean I’ve glanced at a couple things…headlines.” The truth is I’ve never followed the sports news, even when I’ve had the time. It’s just all gossip to me.

  For me, the important thing is what happens on the field. You can talk all you want about fancy plays and strategies, but it doesn’t mean anything until it’s actually executed, until the touchdown is made.

  “Wow,” says coach, looking pissed, even grumpier than normal. His brow furrows and he changes his stance. “You’ve got to do it, Dylan. It’s part of the job. You’ve got to know what you’re up against.”

  I nod my head. Inside I’m thinking, ‘but this is what I’ve got you for, coach. I know you’re going to tell me anyway.’ But there’s no point in arguing with him. He’s already made up his mind.

  “As you know, we’re playing Milwaukee in two days. They’re a good team. But what you’ve got to watch out for is the tackles… They’re really intent on beating you up, beating you to a pulp so you can’t play the rest of the season. You see, The Rabbits are coming up, which is good, but now we’ve got to watch out for people trying to sabotage us.”

  “So why don’t they
just go hard against the whole team?”

  “Don’t let it get to your head, Dylan, but you’re the next big quarterback. I guess you really haven’t been reading the news if you don’t know this, but everyone’s saying you’re going to be the best QB in a decade or so, given you have enough time to grow.”

  I do know it.

  I nod my head slowly. I mean, I’d be lying if I’d said I’d never heard this. It’s hard to avoid hearing chatter and gossip, and harder to avoid seeing yourself in the headlines at every newsstand. But I guess I never really gave it much importance.

  “They’re going to be on to you like a dog onto a fox.”

  Where the hell did he pick that expression up from?

  “They’re going to be coming at you from every angle. Maybe we should come up with some kind of system to keep you protected, you know? I wanted to run it by you. We could put a couple more guys on you to run interference.”

  “Don’t worry about it, coach,” I say. “I’ll be fine. I know how to take a hit. I’m not the pretty boy quarterback that needs a whole team of guys defending him at all times. Plus, if you do that, it’ll destroy the rest of our line up and really mess with all of our plays.”

  Coach nods, then smiles. “Good man, Dylan. I thought that’s what you’d say. I just don’t want to see you get hurt, that’s all.”

  He just wants to win, and to protect his investment. After all, they’re shelling out a lot of money to have me on the team, and if I’m injured they still are going to have to pay me.

  We shake hands, coach grinning at me the entire time, and I jog into the locker-room, strip down, and soon I’m on the field in my football gear.

  We run through a couple of our plays. I’m feeling at the top of my game. Every pass seems to go perfectly. I don’t see how our next game could go anything but perfectly.

  At the end of practice, Jimmy comes up to me and starts talking about all the news about the team. I’m not listening too carefully, since Jimmy just sort of likes to talk on and on, whether or not anyone’s listening to him.