Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 121095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
I’m buzzing and smiling like a goof, but somehow, I manage to play it cool and say, “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
“He’s just stating facts,” Mom insists.
Roman’s nods. “Whenever Moriarty gets into a slump, which he will because it happens to the best of us, you’ll be there to show him how it’s done and steal that fucker’s job.”
“Could everyone please calm down?” I say, even though I’m loving every second of this postgame pep rally. “I need to make the roster before I can steal anybody’s job, including Moriarty’s.”
Everyone confidently declares there’s no doubt I’m going to make the roster when the time comes, and I gobble up their excitement and confidence in me like a giddy little kid. I know today was only one game, and a preseason one at that, but it felt like my coming-out party. One of the best days of my life. I felt like me again out there on the field, like the beast I used to be in college.
Unfortunately, I didn’t get enough minutes to pull off that third sack for Chelsea. That’s the only shortcoming of the day. But I’m now more determined than ever to make it happen next week. Sadly, that will be too late to get Chelsea to my big brother’s party tomorrow, which is a total bummer. I desperately wanted to introduce her to all these people so they can see she’s everything I’ve been telling them and more. Also, because I want Chelsea to see that my family isn’t a bunch of demons just because we happen to root for the opposing team in the rivalry. In truth, I’m guessing my football-loving family is probably a whole lot more like Chelsea’s than she’d ever care to admit. But I guess it wasn’t meant to be.
A knock interrupts my mother’s happy chatter on my screen, and I look toward my door in confusion. There’s no curfew tonight, since tomorrow’s our day off, and everyone else went off to do something fun. And I don’t think it could possibly be Chelsea, unfortunately, since she already said her goodbyes to me at the stadium, right before she went off to grab food with some other coaches, and she didn’t send me even the slightest secret look or signal.
I head toward the door as my mother continues praising me, and when I peek through the peephole, I’m met with the best surprise in the world: the two most beautiful ocean-blue eyes staring back at me.
“Gotta go,” I blurt. “Coach Parker’s at my door.” It’s not a lie, technically.
“How exciting!” Mom calls out. “I bet he came to—”
“See you soon, fam!” I disconnect the call with an adrenaline-fueled finger, hurl the phone onto my bed, and practically yank the door off its hinges. “Hey, Chelsea. To what do I owe this—”
I don’t get the rest of my sentence out before Chelsea pushes me back into the room and launches herself at me. I don’t know what’s happening or why, given that I only got two sacks today and her price was three, but I’m certainly not going to question this or turn her down.
“You were so hot today,” Chelsea murmurs between frantic kisses. “That sack with the forced fumble is going to be my favorite masturbation video for the rest of my life.”
She rips off her shirt, so I do the same, and we stumble toward the bed in a blur of kisses and hoarse whispers. In a frenzy of excitement, I reach behind Chelsea’s back and unclasp her bra, and the two most beautiful tits I’ve ever beheld spring free as her no-frills bra slides forward and off.
“Perfect,” I whisper. But it’s all I can muster before needing to suck on my teeth to prevent physical drool from dribbling down my chin. My drool reflex handled, at least temporarily, I rip off my sweatpants like they’re burning my flesh, and Chelsea follows my lead.
I’m down to my briefs, a hard-on, and a wolfish grin now, and Chelsea’s similarly clad in nothing but tiny pink panties that are pushing me perilously close to coming on the spot. I pull her to the bed, guide her onto her back, climb next to her with my straining dick leading the way like a blazing torch in a jungle, and then proceed to kiss the ever-loving fuck out of the hottest woman alive. The woman I’ve fantasized about for so long, she’s become a mythical creature in my mind.
As my lips devour hers, and our warm skin connects, every cell in my body, every drop of blood coursing through my veins and animating my flesh, vibrates with bliss and relief. This feels like the answer to a prayer. The fulfilment of my hottest teenage fantasies. My adult ones, too. There’s literally nothing that could top the euphoric rush I’m feeling in this moment.