Football Baby: A Secret Baby Romance Page 3

  “Great,” I say, trying to constrain the smile that I know is creeping over my face.

  “It sure does seem strange that they’d all cancel today,” says Lauren, giving the receptionist a suspicious look.

  “What can I say?” says the receptionist. “You can’t explain this business in logical terms.”

  “Well,” I say. “Shall we get going?”

  I almost take Lauren’s hand by accident. For some reason, I already feel close to her.

  “Sure,” she says, walking toward the front door, her baggy pants swishing a little, but her butt looks cute and sexy as hell. She can’t hide her figure, no matter how hard she tries.

  She’s fucking sexy.

  “See you later,” I say, giving the receptionist a little wave.

  I swear she gives me a wink as I walk past her.

  Am I being set up by the receptionist?

  Fuck, I don’t care. I just want to spend time with Lauren.

  It’s been a long time since I’ve been with anyone—at least a couple months now.

  5

  Lauren

  I can’t believe Cindy did this to me. I’m almost positive she somehow rearranged the schedule so that I’d walk home with Dylan. It’s not like I can’t use a break, but I can also use the money.

  Then again, Dylan’s not only the hottest guy I’ve ever talked to, but there’s something more about him. For one thing, he’s funny, not to mention smart. He’s the absolute opposite of everything I’d heard about him.

  “So you were always like this?” I say, as we’re walking back to campus, about a ten-minute walk. The sun is still up, but it’s a little chilly. It’s surprising how long the winters can last up here, this far North.

  “Like what?” he says. “Injured?”

  “I mean… Smart, and funny. You’re not like the typical jock I would have imagined.”

  “Ah,” he says. “Well, thanks for the compliment.”

  He looks right into my eyes, and I feel myself blushing. I guess I was complimenting him, but I didn’t quite realize it.

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” I say, embarrassed.

  “Well I’m still taking the compliment anyway. But, to answer your question, I was more of your typical jock the first couple years of college. The parties, the women…”

  He trails off for a minute, and I can tell he’s wondering how much he should tell me.

  “Sounds like a blast,” I say, the sarcasm dripping down my words.

  “This year I’ve been quieter, more reflective. I’ve been reading a lot more, and going to a lot less parties. I don’t live with the football team this year like last year. And it’s been a nice break, really. It’s just that it’s a little lonelier. I mean, I can’t talk to my old friends about what I’m reading. I don’t have anyone to talk to about… you know, serious stuff.”

  “You can talk to me about it,” I say. I don’t know where this comes from. It’s pretty ballsy, even for me. I can’t believe I Just said it.

  I look down at the ground, suddenly worried he’s not going to like that I said it.

  After all, here I am, the poor college student who no one’s paid much attention to, talking to the most famous guy on campus. I can’t believe I just made a move like that.

  “That’d be great,” he says, looking me right in the eyes when I lift my head up to look at him, and smiling, a big beautiful smile that warms my heart.

  “OK,” I say, not sure of what to say next.

  “Do you want to get some dinner tonight?” he says.

  I don’t say anything for a moment. My heart is pounding. Dylan Knight just asked me to dinner? Holy shit. I feel frozen, unable to say anything.

  “I mean,” he says. “I can totally understand if you can’t do it. I know you’re busy with work, and you must be really busy with finals coming up and everything. Anyway, I totally understand if…”

  “I’d love to,” I say. “I just have to drop off my massage stuff back at my dorm.”

  “Oh, ok,” he says, giving me another smile, which makes me heart flutter. “Should I come with you then?”

  “Yeah, I live in George Building, on the East side of campus.”

  “Great,” he says.

  We walk in silence for another minute. Meanwhile, my thoughts are racing frantically. Is he just being friendly, or does this mean he really likes me or something?

  I’m leaning towards the idea that he really likes me, which makes my thoughts race even faster. My anxiety is starting to come on, and I just hope against all hope that I don’t get all sweaty and clammy, at least not so much that Dylan could notice.

  I’m thinking he’s at least attracted to me because after all he did have a massive erection during the massage. And why else would he be getting an erection unless I was turning him on?

  Then again, maybe he’s attracted to me, but just wants to fuck me and be done with it. I doubt he’s really interested in me for me.

  But we start talking again, and my opinion starts to shift. He’s asking me all sorts of questions about my current life, and also about where I went to high school and all that sort of stuff. It’s been a long, long time since anyone’s taken this much interest in me.

  My parents never paid this much attention to me.

  Soon we’ve gotten over the personal histories, and we’re cracking jokes about professors and schoolwork like we’re old friends.

  “I feel like I already know you really well,” I say.

  “Me too,” he says, stopping outside of my dorm building.

  “Well,” I say. “We’re here. Do you want to just wait outside while I drop off my stuff?”

  I’m also thinking I can hopefully change into something more flattering. After all, I do still have a pair of skintight yoga pants that I don’t think I’ve ever worn more than once. I’ve gotten into the habit of just wearing my baggy work pants over the years.

  “Can’t I come in and see your room?”

  Holy shit. He wants to come in and see my room.

  I hope my roommate’s here for once to see who I brought home. Not that I’m big on invoking jealousy, but there’d be something really satisfying in surprising her like that.

  “Sure,” I say. “Come on in.”

  He follows me through the doors with the key card entrance.

  We walk down the hallway slowly. He’s walking behind me, and I’m wondering whether he’s checking out my ass. I hope you can still see some of it despite the bagginess of the pants I’m wearing.

  “Well, this is it,” I say, opening my door, and stepping aside for him to step in.

  It’s too bad, but Tasha’s not here. She never is, though, so I don’t know why that surprised me. That’s one of the reasons I wanted her as a roommate, and one of the main reasons we’ve been able to live argument free together all four years here at college.

  “Sweet setup,” says Dylan, throwing himself down on my bed in a casual manner.

  I haven’t even made my bed. He’s lying right where I sleep. It seems so intimate. Then again, my hands were just on him during the massage therapist.

  “I think I have the same bed,” he says.

  “We all have the same bed. We all have the same everything, as a matter of fact.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Hey, my leg feels a lot better.” He extends his leg all the way, to prove his point, and I can’t help myself from catching an eyeful of the muscles around his stomach moving, underneath his thin t-shirt.

  I don’t have any idea how it happens, but after a couple minutes of awkward laughing at nothing at all, nothing in particular, we’re all over each other.

  He’s pulling me down to him on the bed, and we’re lying next to each other, our arms all over each other.

  We’re kissing passionately, our lips and tongues connecting somewhat sloppily. But it feels hot, even if it’s sloppy.

  “You sure seemed excited duri
ng the massage,” I say, pulling my mouth away from him for a moment.

  “It was you,” he says. “I couldn’t keep my eyes off you. And the way you were touching me…”

  “I do the same for every client,” I say, giving him a smile.

  “But I bet you don’t do what we’re going to do for every client.”

  “And what is it that we’re going to do?”

  For an answer, he just pulls me on top of him. His arms are on my hips, and I feel his powerful muscles holding me against him as he shifts his hands to grip my sides.

  “I wanted you from the moment I saw you,” he says.

  “I wanted you too,” I say, my breath heavy with lust. My body is reacting, and I can feel my underwear getting wet. It’s been a long time. “The moment I realize you weren’t an idiot jock like I thought, I wanted you. I never thought I’d have you.”

  “Well you’re about to,” he says, massaging my breasts with his hands.

  Soon, he’s pulling my shirt up off over my head, and my breasts pop out. Oh shit, I’m not wearing a fancy bra or anything. I’m not even wearing a normal bra. Instead, it’s a sports bra that I’ve taken to wearing ever since last week, when I ran out of clean laundry, and didn’t have any time to do any more.

  But he seems to like the sports bra fine. His breathing is getting heavier, and I can see his chest rising and falling as he runs his hands across the smooth fabric.

  I’ve never made out with anyone in a sports bra before, and I have to say it feels even better than a normal bra. Somehow, the sensations are a lot smoother, more delicate, yet more intense at the same time, however paradoxical that sounds.

  Now he’s burying his head between my breasts, having finally lifted up the sports bra, so that it’s resting above my breasts, still holding them somewhat in place at the sides.

  He’s licking my nipples, which are rock hard and pointed.

  “It feels so good,” I say, beginning to moan.

  I want him and his body, like I’ve never wanted anyone before. I feel myself shifting, in a way. All thoughts of school work and financial worry have completely left my head, and my consciousness is completely overwhelmed by him, by Dylan and his body.

  I’m pushing myself down on to his body, my hands going all over him, underneath his shirt, feeling and pressing against his incredibly defined abdominal muscles, caressing his chiseled shoulder muscles, feeling his strong, dense and powerful chest.

  His slight stubble scrapes against me as I push my head down and kiss his neck, biting ever so slightly.

  Dylan’s own mouth is against my neck, kissing me gently at first, and now harder.

  I’ve got his shirt off, and it’s halfway across the room now, having landed on my roommate’s bed.

  There’s no way he’s not going to fuck me. I’ve always been that way. Once I’ve got my mind made up, it’s always going to happen. I have a way of getting what I want.

  But he wants me just as much as I want him.

  He can’t contain himself, and after a bit of wrestling while we’re still kissing sloppily, we’ve settled into a position where I’m under him and he’s on top of me.

  “I need you to fuck me,” I say. “I need your cock inside me.”

  “I like a girl who knows what she wants,” he says, his voice lowering into almost a growl. His breathing his sharp and ragged, as if he can barely contain his lust for me.

  His hands are running down my thighs, applying just the right amount of pressure.

  I’m fumbling with his belt buckle. Soon I’ve got it open, and I unzip his pants.

  His cock springs out.

  He shifts himself, pulling his body up closer to where the headboard would be if it wasn’t a cheap dorm room bed.

  His massive and swollen cock is right in my face.

  “It’s nice to get a closer look at it finally. You don’t know how much I wanted to rip the towel off you during the massage.”

  “That wouldn’t have been very professional,” he says, his voice low and rumbly.

  He’s kissing my neck again, bending his head down from his position.

  His cock is right in my face. I’ve never seen such a large cock. Its tip is already dripping a little.

  Sure, it’s swollen and veiny, but honestly I’ve never seen such a perfectly beautiful cock in all my life, not even in porn movies.

  I can’t help myself. I dip my head down, and take him in my mouth.

  “Ohhh,” he moans, but it’s a deep and masculine moan.

  His cock feels perfect in my mouth. I’ve never liked giving blowjobs much before, although they’re pretty much expected when you’re dating in college.

  But this—this is completely different.

  It’s just so fucking hot to have his massive cock in my mouth. I know my underwear is completely soaked through, warm and wet.

  I’m bobbing my head up and down, pushing his cock father to the back of my mouth each time. His cock is so big it completely fills my mouth, like no other cock ever has. Not that I’ve really had that many cocks in my mouth. I’ve been something of a prude during college, hooking up with only a couple of guys during all my four years.

  “I need to be inside you,” he says, as I’m lifting off his shirt, to reveal his amazing musculature.

  I’m helping him pull his pants down, wiggling them down across his powerful hips.

  His waist is amazingly thin, but he’s not in the least bit boney. His upper body tapers down to a perfect little indent that fits into his hips as if he is actually a sculpture, rather than a real live human being who’s about to fuck me.

  We’re kicking frantically, trying to get our pants off. Soon all the clothes are in a heap, somehow winding up on the roommate’s empty bed.

  We’re both completely naked now, our bare skin touching at almost all points. It feels completely wonderful. His body is warm and strong, delicate and powerful.

  He’s moving his body down towards the bottom of the bed.

  Dylan sticks his head between my thighs, pulling them apart with his strong hands.

  I can feel his stubble rubbing against my inner thighs, and for some reason, this turns me even further on, more than anything that’s happened so far.

  It’s something about the fact that he wants to get so intimate with me. He wants to lick me.

  His tongue feels both rough and smooth as he runs it around the very far edges of my outer lips.

  I moan in anticipation and grab his perfect blonde hair and pull his head quite indelicately further into me.

  This causes his tongue to connect with me in a much more intimate way, applying much more pressure. Soon, he’s using the flat part of his tongue in long broad strokes that connect with everything.

  His finger is somehow underneath his tongue and massaging my clit ever so lightly.

  “Oh, Dylan,” I moan, pulling his head further towards me.

  His tongue never seems to tire, and despite the slightly rough surface, he knows how to use it in the most delicate way possible.

  “Oh my God,” I say, starting to feel an intense pleasure running up through me.

  I’m bucking my hips and writhing as I moan. The pleasure is too much.

  I’m coming. All of a sudden. It washes through me, and for a second my vision goes white.

  It last seemingly forever, and all during the whole thing he’s pushing his head and tongue into me, despite my writhing. He’s gripping onto both my hips like his life depended on it.

  When it’s over, I’m still immensely horny, desiring his body even more than before. My body feels light, fatigued from the orgasm, yet still ready for more. I mean, how can I see his body, and feel his tongue, as he keeps lapping, and not want his cock deep inside me?

  “Come here,” I say, taking his shoulders and trying to pull him on top of me.

  I’m not strong enough, but he is, and soon he’s up on top of me, massaging my breasts, and
caressing my entire body slowly.

  I grab his cock in my hand, making a fist. It’s even more swollen than before. I can feel his precum oozing and I can feel each vein bulging. I can feel the mushroom head and the beautiful indent it makes where it falls away to the rest of his thick shaft.

  “I need you inside me,” I say.

  “I want you too,” he says, continuing to kiss me on the mouth, running his hands slowly through my hair.

  “I mean like right fucking now,” I say.

  “I didn’t bring a condom,” he says, seemingly momentarily distracted. “Do you have one?”

  “It’s OK,” I say. “I’m on the pill. Don’t worry about it.”

  “You sure?” he says.

  I can’t quite think straight. I’m pretty sure I’m on the pill. I try to block Dylan and his body out of my mind for a moment. After all, I don’t think I can afford to have a kid right now. I want one eventually, but this isn’t the right time.

  But, yes, I do take the pill. I’ve had a prescription ever since I got into college. I read and article and decided myself that it was the most practical and cost effective safe solution over the long run.

  Of course, I’ve never actually had sex without a condom. That’d be irresponsible, considering the risk for disease. But Dylan sure seems healthy enough. He’s going pro, after all.

  “I’m positive,” I say. “Let’s do it.”

  “Great,” he says, a big grin spreading across his face.

  I can tell he’s incredibly eager, and not just because of how swollen his cock is.

  “I need to feel you inside me,” I say.

  “I need to be inside you,” he says, as he positions his hips so that the massive head of his cock is pressing against me, just barely brushing against the surface.

  I moan.

  “Put it in,” I say, moaning. I need to come again. The first orgasm just made me hungrier for more. I need his cock to feel satisfied.

  But he’s intent on teasing me.

  Without using his hand, he’s managing to tease me in the most extraordinarily frustrating way I’ve ever experienced. I just want it inside me now. The anticipation is too much.