Jock's Baby

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Jock's Baby Page 8

by Roxeanne Rolling

Not that I’m going to admit it to Joanne or my mother.

  Or maybe it’s just that he’s so fucking hot. It’s the same reason that made me hook up with him a year ago. I needed to de-stress then and I need to de-stress now.

  He’s undoing his pants and now his cock springs out. It’s rock hard and practically throbbing as I grab it and start moving my hand up and down.

  “You really like to take things slow, don’t you?” he says. I realize he’s being sarcastic, but I know he doesn’t mind how fast we go.

  There’s time for slow foreplay later…

  Wait, did I just think “later,” as in there’s going to be another time?

  I’m getting in over my head already.

  Jeff pulls off his shirt and his muscles seem to pop and writhe before my eyes.

  I run my hands along his chiseled abs and let them fall down to his crotch, where I start stroking his cock again, working on the thick base, using almost as much pressure as I can, squeezing him hard and tight.

  “Oh, shit,” says Jeff, groaning, leaning back on the couch.

  I’m leaning my head down towards his crotch, licking his abs as I go.

  Now I’m taking his thick cock in my mouth, taking it all the way back.

  “That’s right, baby,” says Jeff, groaning as I suck his thick shaft, keeping my hands on the base and still squeezing. He pushes his hips up so that his cock comes farther into my mouth, all the way up to where my hands are.

  I release my hands and push my head down, with my hair flowing all undone around him, laying on his immense and muscular thigh muscles. His cock comes all the way into my mouth now. The base is so thick, and I can feel the head in my mouth.

  Now I pull away suddenly. “I don’t want you coming before I have my fun,” I say.

  “I thought that was your fun?” says Jeff, but he’s already repositioning himself.

  It’s as if we’re synchronized swimmers or something.

  Something about this hook up just feels so right.

  No one’s going to interrupt us this time.

  I didn’t put my cell phone on silent though. I just can’t bare the thought of something happening to Mia (she’s at my mother’s again, who’s happy to watch her).

  I get on the couch and lie on my back. Just as I do, Jeff pushes his head between my legs.

  I watch his body as he gets down, lying flat on the cushy couch, his hard cock sinking somewhere deep into the cushions.

  He’s licking my thighs and I’m already moaning. Fuck do I really want this.

  I clamp my thighs around his head as he buries his tongue into me. He’s not wasting any time now, and I appreciate his attitude, since I’m just about as ready as I ever could be for him, for this.

  I can barely wait to get his cock deep inside me, with him on top of me, or behind me, however the situation plays out.

  I may want his cock but fuck does his tongue feel good. I forgot how fucking good he is at this. He knows exactly what to do, exactly where to lick, when and where to apply pressure.

  I’m coming all of a sudden after only a couple minutes. I’m vaguely aware that I’m crying out, immensely loudly, making a hell of a racket with my intense moans.

  “Damn,” says Jeff, pulling up his head as I finally release him from my vice-like thigh grip. “You’re going to wake everyone up.”

  I just grin at him.

  “Not that I care,” he says.

  “There’re not going to know it’s me,” I say, realizing I must sound sleepy. But I’m not. I’m wide awake, but it’s as if I feel somewhat buzzed from the orgasm that’s still washing through me like a river of pure and intense pleasure.

  Jeff’s moving his body over mine, getting onto his elbows.

  His cock is as hard as ever, if not harder, and it’s between my legs.

  I squeeze my thighs together, catching it between them.

  “Oh fuck that feels good already,” says Jeff.

  “You’re easy to pleasure,” I say, and release his cock.

  “I want you so much,” says Jeff.

  “I want you too,” I say. “Not quit messing around and fuck me hard.”

  “I’ll take that as an order,” says Jeff.

  His cock is pushing up against my outer lips, and now it enters me, slowly and powerfully.

  Oh fuck that feels good. I cry out.

  “You feel so good,” says Jeff.

  My hands are on his strong chest. His face is all I can see, but now he leans down and bites my neck ever so gently.

  But he’s not fucking me gently. He’s fucking me as hard as he’s ever fucked me. It’s as if he’s on the football field, running fiercely through a stronghold of defensive players. But instead of football, his body is working on me, on fucking me, on making me come.

  “Let’s turn over,” I say.

  Jeff pulls out and helps me flip over. His arms are so strong it’s not a big task for him.

  I’m on my stomach, my breasts flush against the soft cushioning beneath me. I feel like I’m sinking down as he gets on top of me, his heavy weight feeling delicious on top of me.

  I love this feeling of being so secure. This is the most safe I’ve ever felt, completely protected by his massive muscular body.

  His cock enters me and I gasp.

  “I’m going to come,” I cry out, after only a couple more minutes of his hips slamming hard into the backs of my thighs.

  “Holy fuck,” grunts Jeff, as we come together.

  The waves of pleasure rush through me and I’m crying out loudly and shrilly, not aware of what I’m saying, not able to control the noise I’m making. I’ve never felt pleasure like this. This is what the orgasms in the porn movies would feel like if they were even remotely real. It’s tidal wave after tidal wave of rich hot sweet pleasure rushing through me, from my toes up to my neck.

  I have my eyes open but I can barely even see out of them. Everything’s fuzzy.

  Holy fuck. Now this is a fucking orgasm.

  We lie like this for a full minute, neither of us moving an inch.

  Jeff pulls out of me and I vaguely watch as he pulls the condom off his cock and ties it up. He goes over to the kitchen, turning on the light, apparently to throw out the condom.

  “I suppose you want me to leave?” I say, when he comes back.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “You always wanted me to leave before. Or, well, you always left. You were very clear that it was a one time thing…”

  “I don’t know,” says Jeff. “Maybe it wouldn’t hurt if you stick around for a little while.”

  What the hell? The famous Jeff Tallborne asking me to hang around? Does this mean this is something more than just a fuck session?

  I’m terrified to ask, though. Who knows what the answer might be, and I don’t want to hear the answer that I don’t want to hear, if that makes any sense.

  “What do you want to do?” I say, finally getting up from my face-down position, and sitting here on the couch naked, with my knees up in my folded-over arms.

  “I don’t know,” says Jeff.

  Apparently he doesn’t know what to say after sex with a woman. Shit, I wonder if this is the farthest he’s “ever gotten,” so to speak after sex. No, that’s crazy. I’m sure he’s had women around for more than just one night stands, or not even one night stands, that is—two hours stands is more like it.

  “We could watch a movie,” I suggest, gazing up at his strong naked body that stands in front of me. He looks so fucking powerful, built in a classically beautiful and masculine way, like some Greek mythological hero.

  His cock is still rock hard. It hasn’t died down in the slightest. The head is still just as swollen as it was before.

  “Yeah,” he says. “That sounds OK. What kind of stuff do you like to watch?”

  I don’t answer. Instead, I get off the couch and crawl towards him on my hands and knees.

&nb
sp; His cock is just so enticing, so tall and strong and hard. I’m drawn to it like a magnet is drawn to steel.

  I’m right before him, kneeling on the carpet. I rise up, my hands gripping his sinewy thick thighs. I bring myself up until my head is at his cock level.

  I gently kiss the head of his cock. His cock responds by rising up even more.

  Jeff’s hands are digging into my hair gently, getting caught and stuck in its thick strands.

  I use my hands to massage his cock ever-so-lightly. No matter how light I go though, I can feel the response in his entire body. He makes the softest groan I’ve ever heard, and I watch with great interests and slight perversion as his eyes close and his head tilts back.

  He’s planted firmly on the heels of his feet, with his knees just slightly bent. His thigh muscles become taught and tight. I’m running my hands along them now, caressing and massaging every inch of his thick thigh muscles, the inside and inner portion, the outside, everything.

  My lips are sucking on just the very tip of his cock. And I mean the very fucking tip, just the first centimeter of it. I’m sucking so gently I wonder if he can feel it. But I can see and feel how his body response. I can hear his breathing increase, and I know he feels it. Oh fuck do I know he feels it.

  I use my tongue to touch the tip of his cock and feel his body respond instantly.

  Now, all of a sudden, I jam my mouth down around his swollen cock.

  “Oh fuck,” says Jeff, groaning. His hands go wild in my hair, massaging my scalp, looking for something to grab onto.

  “That feel good, baby?” I say, taking my mouth off his cock.

  “Oh fuck yeah,” he says. “Start again. Come on. Start again!”

  I just smile up at him, batting my eyelashes.

  “You want me to suck your cock again?”

  “Come on, Lexi. Oh my God, come on!”

  I love watching him squirm psychologically. I love having this… well, I don’t know how to describe it. Is being desired a power? Do women have power over men with their desirability? It’s something inherent in us, something deep in our identity.

  His cock is deep in my mouth when I get a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach.

  Why hasn’t my phone rung at all? Oh yeah, that’s right—I turned it on silent, didn’t I?

  But I’d better check. What if something happened to Mia?

  “Sorry,” I say, removing my cock from his mouth. “I’ve got to check on my phone.”

  “What? What…wait?”

  “Sorry,” I say again, and looking up at his hot muscular body.

  But right now my libido has suddenly been switched off. I don’t even know how it’s possible with a guy this hot, but I guess that’s motherhood for you: one minute you’re thinking about one thing, and suddenly you’re worried literally sick to your stomach about your baby.

  I rush over to my phone and take it from my purse.

  Sure enough, there’s nothing: no new messages and no new calls. Just to make sure, I send a text to my Mom to see how Mia’s doing.

  Nothing comes back immediately, which only makes me feel more worried. Then again, my Mom’s not like the biggest cell phone user on the planet.

  “I’ve got to go,” I say, suddenly, realizing that my anxiety is not going to calm down in the slightest until I have Mia safe in my arms once again.

  “Come on, why?” says Jeff, giving me a weird look.

  “I…I can’t explain it,” I say. “It’s something important and personal.”

  How am I going to tell him that I have to go check on his daughter, the daughter I’ve never told him about?

  “This isn’t cool,” says Jeff. “I mean it’s one thing to leave me hanging like this, but…”

  “Leave you hanging? You’re greedy, aren’t you? You want another orgasm, is that it? That’s all I’m good for, right? Getting you off?”

  “It’s not like that,” says Jeff, giving me a look that shows pain in his face, deep in his eyes. “I thought this was turning into something more, but you keep rushing off like I’m your secret love affair or something.”

  “Well, you are,” I say.

  “You’ve got a husband, that’s it, isn’t it?”

  “What? No,” I say. “I’m completely single. Single as a lone wolf.”

  “Then what the hell is going on?”

  “I just meant that you’re my secret love affair because if they find out that we’re sleeping together, let alone slept together in the past, there’s no way I won’t lose my job, and you’ll probably lose the case.”

  “All right,” he says, sighing. “So it’s a secret affair. We’ve established that. But what do you keep running off for? Don’t tell me you’ve got work to do, because I’m your case, and if anything you should be spending more time with me.”

  “I’m not defending you,” I say. “And anyway, that’s not how practicing law works. It’s more about paper work than sleeping with clients.”

  He’s trying not to crack a smile, and so am I. It did sound pretty funny, though, if I say so myself. It’s not like I was trying to tell a joke, though.

  “Maybe I’m just studying you for your weaknesses,” I say. “That would be some good research.”

  “That shouldn’t be too hard. I’ve got plenty of them….But, really, what are you doing?”

  “Why’s it so important to you?”

  “I have to know,” he says. “I can tell something is up. I know this isn’t normal the way you’re always leaving.”

  “I really have to go,” I say, already dressed, my handbag in my hand. I’m still thinking of Mia, but my anxiety has calmed down a little, since I know there’s no way something would have happened to her without my mom calling and letting me know, not to mention calling 911 one hundred times or more.

  “I don’t think I can keep doing this if you don’t tell me,” he says. “I’m sorry, but I need to know.”

  “What happened to the bad boy who didn’t care if the women left, since he was always so sure they’d come back?”

  “That’s still me,” he says. “But this is turning into something more than just a series of one night stands, and you know it.”

  I’m shocked to hear him say it, but I know it’s true. I didn’t want to admit it to myself, I guess.

  “All right,” I say. “I have a daughter.”

  My heart’s pounding so hard I wonder if he can hear it across the room. I’ve moved over towards the door. I hope this can be the end of the conversation, but I know it won’t be. But I also know there’s no way in hell I’m going to tell him that Mia’s his daughter—maybe eventually. Well, I have to tell him eventually. But not tonight. Not until our lives settle down and I have some breathing room at work and don’t need to be looking over my shoulder ever other minute.

  “Oh,” he says. “I didn’t know that.”

  “I didn’t tell you,” I say.

  “Why didn’t you ever tell me about her when we were together before?”

  “Well, we didn’t talk a lot.”

  He almost laughs at this.

  “But also she wasn’t born yet. She’s only three months old.”

  “Three months…”

  I can see his mind working rapidly.

  “Wait,” he says, slowly. “She’s not mine, is she?”

  I don’t know how I do it. I’ve never been a liar. But I say “no,” emphatically, and shake my head like that’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.

  “Oh,” he says, sounding actually disappointed.

  15.

  Jeff

  She leaves, closing the door behind her. I don’t even get to watch her walk away.

  So I’m not the only guy she’s been with in this time? Hell, I didn’t think she was that kind of woman, sleeping with guys without protection all the time, getting knocked up. And it sounds like the guy’s definitely no longer in the picture. What kind of asshole gets a
woman like her pregnant and then just leaves her to raise the kid herself?

  I wouldn’t even do something like that. I may have fucked my fair share of women—ok, more than my fair share—but I know for sure I don’t have any kids running around out there, that’s for damn sure.

  I thought we were getting close. I thought something more was developing, something more than just a sexual relationship, but now I’m not sure what to do. I’m not sure what to think. It feels strange knowing she was with another man. I mean, we weren’t even going out, so she was free to go do whatever she wanted…I can’t explain it, but something just feels weird about the whole thing. I don’t like the way she lied to me about it, and I don’t like this feeling I have at all.

  I sigh and flop down, still buck naked, on the couch. My erection is gone. The discussion with Lexi took care of my erection. My cock is shrunken and doesn’t look like I’ll ever get another erection.

  I flip on the TV, but there’s nothing that interests me. I just can’t concentrate on any of it.

  I fall asleep with bad dreams in which I’m facing a tribunal court made up of vicious beasts as the judges. They’ve got horns and sharp teeth and Lexi’s there, telling them how I need to be eaten in the most brutal way possible. In the end, the beasts slam their gavels down and then jump over the benches to devour me.

  I wake up in a cold sweat, an hour earlier than I normally do. I feel wasted, like I got drunk last night, but I’ve barely had more than a couple beers this week. That’s pretty light for me and my strong system.

  There are a couple hours to kill before practice, but I don’t feel like hanging around the apartment, so I hop in the car and just start driving. I don’t care where I’m headed, but soon I find myself driving along the route to Tom’s recovery center.

  Did I want to come here all along? Is my subconscious trying to tell me something?

  Tom was always such a dumb ass before. I never would have taken his advice about even putting a nail in the wall or any kind of super simple task. But it turns out that after all he was half-crocked basically he entire time I’ve known him. The last time I saw him here, sober for the first time in years, without his blurry eyes, he seemed wise and sage like.

 

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