by Autumn Avery
“Fine,” I tell him, stepping up to the edge of the porch. The crowd cheers louder, egging me on.
“Yeah, girl!”
“Take it off!” Someone shouts.
I ignore them and kick my shoes off, getting ready to take the plunge. I can’t believe this. As I step move to jump, the entire crowd boos in unison.
“Weak!”
“Laaaaame!”
“Take it off!”
Flabbergasted, I turn to Walker, who is smiling knowingly at me.
“What the Hell?” I ask.
“You gotta take your clothes off,” he tells me simply.
“I’m not taking my clothes off!” I shout back at him. More boos from the crowd.
“Well, it is the Balls-Out-Boobs-Out Cannonball Contest,” he says, as a simple matter of fact. Quickly, I bend down and snatch my shoes from the deck and race over to him.
“That is not okay!” I whisper-yell at him, shaking my hand in his face. “I am not taking my clothes off!”
“Hey, I didn’t make the rules, sweetheart. That’s just how it is. It’s tradition!”
Did he just call me sweetheart? Suddenly, all desire I may have had for this man is replaced by murderous thoughts. I want to strangle Walker Johnson in front of everyone. How about that for a show!? I can see the headline:
Walker Johnson, Colt’s star wide receiver choked to death by Tribune’s own reporter, Emmy Hutchinson.
A story like that might just break the internet. So what if he’s the most gorgeous man I’ve ever laid eyes on? There’s only so much I can take, and this is where I draw the line.
“I am not taking off my clothes,” I tell him firmly. I can see it in his eyes that he knows I’m serious. But he doesn’t look angry. It’s almost like he’s…amused.
“Hmm,” he muses, almost to himself more than me. “Okay, Emmy. Keep your clothes on. But I hope you don’t mind—“
And before I know it, Walker grabs his shirt and pulls it off over his head. The view takes my breath away.
Muscles on muscles on muscles, and a six pack I could do my laundry on – I actually picture that for a second. How does a man even look like this? I always thought physiques like this were photoshopped in magazines, but the reality is that in person Walker is even more impressive looking, if that was even possible.
I imagine this is what it would feel like to actually stand underneath the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel.
But before I even get a chance to take it all in, Walker does something that blows my mind; he pulls his pants off.
And there it is. Right in front of me. The thing of legend. What all the girls talk about.
So that’s why they call him the Stallion, I realize. I’m staring, but there’s nothing I can do about it. I’m already soaked from the beer, but suddenly I feel wet in a much different place.
Waves of heat flood up my body from my toes, and I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. My stomach is twisted into the tightest of knots, and I feel like my legs are turning into cookie dough, threatening to give out at the slightest touch.
Stop it! Look away. Look away! I scream at myself.
“See anything you like?” I hear Walker’s voice and force myself to look up at him. Those mesmerizing brown eyes aren’t even close to being a distraction from what I just saw. If anything, I feel even more overwhelmed by the look on his face. He knows what I’m feeling right now, and I can’t stand it.
I open my lips to speak, but nothing comes out. My mouth is watering, but my throat is dry. I force myself to swallow and try to speak.
“You sure you don’t want to go upstairs? I’m not just a star on the field, you know.”
“I have to go!” I blurt out. Before I can think twice, I reach down and snatch my bag and shoes and race off into the crowd.
“You know where to find me if you want the full story!” I hear Walker shout after me. As I enter the house I hear the roar of the crowd and a splash as Walker does his cannonball.
He really is a star.
I burst into my dorm room and immediately collapse onto the bed, my heart racing, gasping for air. I’m winded. I ran the whole way home. I had to get out of there.
That was insanity! I’d heard the rumors about Walker – not just the ones about his sexual prowess either. The parties at football house were the stuff of legend, and I never thought I’d ever find myself at one.
He’s gorgeous…
But such a dickhead! Asking me upstairs with him like that, like he just assumed I’d say yes. When was the last time he actually heard no? Probably when he asked a girl if she wanted to leave and go back to her dorm now because he was tired.
I put a hand on my chest to feel my heartbeat, and feel something wet.
Shit. The beer.
With a groan, I get up and grab my towel. Looks like it’s time for another shower. I bring the soaked shirt and bra to the bathroom with me, crank the water on, douse them in soap and leave them soaking in the sink before getting back in the stall.
I can’t handle the hot water now. I need ice cold water on my skin. I need to wash the Walker off of me…out of me…out of my mind.
But I can’t.
I’m practically freezing to death as I step under the icy blast from the showerhead, but every time I try to think of something else, I see his naked body standing there in front of me. Those muscles. The unreal Adonis body, like a renaissance sculpture in the hands of an artisan. I hate admitting it, but he’s flawless. The broad shoulders, the biceps, the abs, the chest muscles…
And the rest of him.
No wonder he has no issues getting naked. If I looked like that I wouldn’t either.
Well, maybe that’s not true. He did say I have a great rack, and I still managed to keep my clothes on at the pool.
The cold water is doing nothing to cool me down. Isn’t this what guys do when they’re horny?
I’m horny! I finally admit to myself. Abbey was right. I thought I’d somehow be immune to his charm. I’d prepared myself, but this wasn’t like studying for an exam. I had no idea what to prepare for. I was going to go in and be a professional, get my story and get out. But I guess getting involved with Walker Johnson is going to be a lot more complicated.
Getting involved! What am I thinking?
No one’s getting involved here. This is just a story! That’s all he is – a story. Just another step on my ladder to success. So what if he’s the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen? And so what if his smile makes my heart race? Am I that predictable that I’m going to let myself succumb to his obvious advances?
I can still feel his strong arm around my waist as I lean back against the wall of the shower. He just went for it and grabbed me like he already owned me. Zero hesitation.
The shower isn’t going to solve anything. There’s no way I’ll be able to even approach Walker again, let alone interview him for the Tribune. That is unless I find some way to take care of this.
Closing my eyes, I run my hand across the place where he touched me, imagining my touch as his touch. I can smell him again, the scent of his cologne and his smell underneath. The memory of his body against mine sends my heart racing, and I start to feel warm between my legs.
What would it be like to be with Walker? A man like him definitely knows what he’s doing. I’ve heard rumors of football guys being bad in bed and just expecting girls to worship them and do all the work, but I can tell from Walker’s attitude that he takes his performance off the field just as seriously as on, and there’s no way he wouldn’t do everything he could to blow my mind.
With his chiseled arms around me, I’d be so small and helpless. He would take complete control, and I would let him. His eyes would hypnotize me, and his strong hands would show me what to do. Standing nude beside the pool, he was impressive enough. I can’t imagine what he would be like fully hard. Would I even be able to take that?
Yes…I think.
I’m not the kind of girl who backs down
from a challenge. I slide my hand down between my legs and feel a pulse of pleasure that sends my mouth open and my head back.
My touch – his touch…
Would he hesitate? No. He would take me when and how he wanted. Guys like Walker don’t ask. They know. He would know just how to give it to me to turn me into a melted girl puddle on his bed. He almost brought me to my knees with his eyes, imagine what he could do with the rest of him.
Would it hurt? Probably. I doubt I could even get my hand around that thing. It would take my breath away going in, and then I’d be flooded with pleasure as he started to fuck me.
My hand moves faster between my legs, moving in slight circles as I picture his sculpted body on top of me.
Walker Johnson inside me…
I’d submit totally. That would be the only way. Maybe his hands grab my arms and pin them above my head. Or maybe he grabs my thighs and spreads my legs open, taking me completely and fully, pushing every inch in, making me take it.
I need two fingers now.
My hand moves faster. I feel the swell of pleasure spreading out across my thighs, growing and growing as I press down. A moan escapes my lips, and I cover my mouth with my other hand. The cold water is doing nothing to cool the waves of heat flooding through me. My feet clench against the floor in each corner of the shower, and I brace my body against the wall, preparing myself for what’s about to come.
I can just feel him inside me, the heat from his body and the strength of his grip. I’m his. He’s taking me, stretching me, filling me and using me for his pleasure. He’s sweating now, and it’s dripping down onto my chest. His breathing is heavy, and I know he’s close.
So am I…
“I told you it would be incredible,” he’d say.
His body jerks, and he growls in my ear. I feel his cock twitch and shoot his hot cum deep inside me. It pushes me over the edge.
“Fuck!” I shout into my hand as I climax. My body shutters against the wall of the shower stall, and my legs shake so hard I almost collapse. It’s unlike anything I’ve felt before. The waves of pleasure just keep coming, and my hand moves faster and faster. I want to cry out. I want to scream his name.
Walker!
Finally, my body shudders one last time, and my hand slows. My heart is racing. Slowly, I reach out and turn the water as cold as it will get. I feel like there’s steam coming off my body I’m so hot right now. I can’t even remember the last time I fantasized like that.
“Chantel!?” A girl’s voice shouts from the door. “Is that you!?”
For a second, I don’t answer. Did someone catch me masturbating in the shower?
“Chantel!?”
“No!” I shout back sheepishly. “Sorry!”
“Oh, okay…” the girl says, closing the door behind her.
Jesus, talk about a buzz kill!
As I open my eyes, the reality of my situation comes back to me, like a splash of cold water to the face – literally.
I have a boyfriend. I’m a reporter. Walker is a story. Fantasies like this can’t happen! That’s all he is – a fantasy, and one I can’t allow myself to have anymore. So what if just thinking about him resulted in the most intense orgasm I’ve had since I can remember?
Filled with a new determination, I shut the water off and grab my towel.
Focus. Focus!
Tossing my hair aside, I stride quickly down the hall to my room. The door is cracked. Abbey must be home. What do I tell her? “You were right all along! Walker is totally sexy!” I can just see the smile on her face. Even if I hide it, she’ll know something’s up. Abbey has always said I have the worst poker face in the planet and that I should never gamble with real money because I’d go broke in ten minutes.
No choice. I have to come clean. Maybe she’ll have some advice for me – some advice that doesn’t involve sleeping with him.
“Okay, you can say it!” I say, pushing the door in. “I totally want to sleep with—“
My voice catches in my throat when I see. My boyfriend, Ronald, is standing there smiling in the middle of my room! He raises his eyebrows with a naughty grin on his face.
“Sleep with who? Me? I was hoping you’d say that.” He says in that voice he always puts on when he wants to be lovey-dovey.
Quickly, he moves towards me and wraps his arms around me. What if I had finished that sentence? I think as he pulls me close to him.
“I’m all wet,” I tell him, trying to back away. But he pulls me closer.
“Mmm, just what I like to hear.”
“No, you big goof!” I smile, slapping him jokingly on the chest and pulling away. “Not like that!”
“No?” He asks, raising his eyebrows inquisitively. He’s in a mood tonight. After eight hours of studying, this is usually how he gets. Sometimes it feels like I’m just a convenient way of blowing off steam for him. “Come on, baby. You know I have a big test tomorrow and I need to relax.”
Ronald is ready for his pre-test ritual he’s gotten so accustomed to, but the truth is that treating our love life like this has started to take its toll on me. I know he wants to go all the way, but I haven’t felt ready. I’ve learned how to use my hand to keep him happy, but I mean, it’s not exactly the most romantic thing in the world. Ronald is a clock watcher and a stickler for being on time, so our alone time has become scheduled, almost like another one of his classes that he has to make time for.
Whatever happened to spontaneity? Things have felt…cold between us when it does happen, and it just feels like there’s no spark anymore. And after what I just went through in the shower, the last thing I want right now is some robotic lovemaking session crammed in between Ronald’s last class and evening study session.
“Oh, baby,” I say. “I’m so sorry, I completely forgot. This isn’t exactly the best…time for me.”
Ronald’s face drops off, and I almost feel bad for a second, but when his face transforms into that of a toddler that just learned his mommy wasn’t giving him a second helping of juice before bed, that all goes away.
“Baby,” he whines. “You know how tense I get before my tests. Isn’t there something you can do?”
I can’t help but think of Walker. Would Walker ever beg for sexual favors from a girl? Doubtful. Actually, Hell no!
If Walker wanted me badly enough right now he’d rip my towel off, throw me on the bed and take me. And I would love it. But this…it’s almost like I’d be doing Ronald a favor, and nothing could be less sexy.
“I’m sorry, honey,” I say, patting him gently on the arm. “It’s just not a good night.”
Any ounce of guilt I have is completely washed away when Ronald’s pouty face goes into overdrive and he starts to whine.
“What the Hell is your problem, Emmy?” He says angrily. “You know how important these tests are to our future. The least you could do would be help me out a little. I mean, this is the rest of our lives I’m talking about here!”
Ronald’s dramatic nature has hit an all-time high lately. While I do sympathize, his constant worrying and the enormous amount of pressure he puts on both of us has become incredibly stressful, and I just find myself wondering where the magic in our relationship has gone? Taking things seriously is one thing, but putting this much pressure on every little detail of our lives is another.
We don’t even really spend time together anymore, except for Ronald’s carefully scheduled visits. We don’t relax, we don’t watch movies, we don’t do couples stuff. Everything is so regimented. It’s like being in the Army or something.
“Can you not freak out, please?” I ask him.
Visibly upset, Ronald moves to speak, but stops himself, closes his eyes, takes a deep breath and straightens his shirt collar. No matter what day of the week it is, Ronald always makes sure he has a perfectly ironed dress shirt tucked into a pair of pleated khakis.
“Emmy? Baby?” He says, making every word sound like a question. “I don’t mean to upset you. I know my behavio
r is sometimes unsettling and I put a lot of pressure on you. But I see us as a team. A power couple. You understand? If we don’t work together on this, the consequences could be very severe.”
“I don’t have the energy to fight tonight, Ronald,” I tell him, pulling open the door of my closet and moving behind it before stripping off my towel. For some reason, I’m not comfortable being naked in front of him yet. I’m not sure if it’s guilt from all my thoughts about Walker, or just the fact that I know if he sees my naked body he’s just going to want it even more. And I just can’t do that tonight.
Quickly, I pull on my least sexy pajama bottoms and a baggy t-shirt.
“No one wants to fight, baby. I just want—“
“Hooooow’d it go?” I hear Abbey call as she storms into the room. “Did you succumb to his charms?!”
Abbey freezes when she sees Ronald standing angrily in the middle of the room. Assuming she’s speaking about him, Ronald puts both hands on his hips and replies.
“No. No she didn’t, Abbey.”
“Oh…” Abbey says slowly, chewing over the word, trying to get a handle on the situation. I shoot a look her way that says Oh, God. Save me! Quickly, her whole demeanor changes. “Well, I had an awful night. I can’t even begin to tell you! Like, the worst! I just want to lay down and die.”
Pushing her way past Ronald, Abbey tosses her arms around me and hugs me like an oversized teddy bear. “I should have just stayed in with you tonight.”
“Well,” Ronald pouts. “I can see where this is going. I guess I’ll just leave you two alone, and hopefully this doesn’t impact my performance tomorrow!”
Without waiting for a response, Ronald turns on his heels and paces quickly from the room. Abbey listens as his footsteps echo down the hall. As soon as the door to outside opens, she pulls our door shut and locks it.
“What’s with him?” She asks.
“Ugh. I don’t know,” I say, sighing and covering my face with my hands. “He’s upset he’s not getting his pre-test handie tonight.”