Love And Football - Chapters 2 & 3 free porn video

My brothers’ funeral was scheduled for the day after the game, keeping the distraction away from our week of preparation. In what should’ve been the biggest week of my life, I was just going through the motions. I did not care about school, I did not care about my friends, I did not care about practice, and I did not care about the game. I just wanted my brother back.

Before I knew it, it was Friday night, the day of the biggest game of my life, and I was mentally ill-prepared. Going into a game I usually had a killer mentality, I would just be angry at the other team and I wanted them to feel it. Tonight, it felt like a chore to be out there. Like my mom just asked me to wash a full sink of some filthy dishes. It would be annoying and tough, but it had to be done.

The venue for the game was a huge collegiate football stadium that was massively under-capacitated, but even so it had more fans in it than I’d ever seen in my life. I knew for a fact all types of college scouts were at this game, the opposing team was loaded with players ranked on Rivals, and we even had a couple people that were starting to earn a buzz in the recruiting world.

We lost the coin toss and were chosen to receive the ball on the first possession. After the opening kickoff, I trotted out on the field, just ready to get the game over with.

“Quads Right 16 Power on 1 on 1,” I spoke to the huddle.

I caught the snap and took off to the right, searching for a hole but failing to find one. I tried to bounce outside. Their outside linebacker was waiting for me and planted his shoulder into my chest, swept me up by both legs, and drove me into the turf.

Unfff, I grunted as the wind left my body. The crowd roared as the defender popped up and celebrated with his teammates, all of them smacking his helmet.

My second down pass sailed over my receiver’s head by a mile.

Third down.

I took the snap, looked off their linebacker to the left and led him to the opposite direction of my primary receiver, then looked back to the right side and flung the ball to the receiver without even taking a second look. The ball landed into his chest with an audible POP! And he gained more than enough yardage for the first down before finally being tackled. The stands loved it, and it gave us much needed momentum. We ripped off three first downs in a row, and I found myself on the 32-yard-line in enemy territory for a 3rd & 1.

“Trips Left Open Zap 10 Iso on one on one,” I called in the huddle.

The play was designed for me to just take the ball up the middle and get whatever I could. But when I took the snap, I saw the right defensive end slant far inside without anybody to replace him. So after my first step forward, I cut to the outside and turned the jets on. I beat the safety with a swift cut inside and trotted into the end zone for the first score of the game, sending the crowd into a frenzy so loud that it sent chills down my spine.

7 - 0.

The defense took our momentum and stuffed our opponents into a three-and-out, causing them to punt the ball right back to us.

On the first play of the next drive, I immediately completed a pass for a first down. I saw the opposing team's body language sag after that. They still hadn’t come up with an answer for us since the last drive.

On the next play, I felt pressure from my right side, so I took off and scrambled to the left, juked a defender to get the first down, then trotted toward the sideline cockily. I thought the play was over, but a defender flew in and gave me a wicked shoulder pad to the ribs. I skidded on the ground into our bench where everybody was screaming for a late hit call, but the official refused to throw his flag.

I couldn’t catch my breath on the ground, every time I tried to breathe in it felt like a knife inside me was trying to stab its way out.

“Get up 3! It ain’t that easy to get you out the game,” I heard Geneva shout from the stands.

And with that, I pulled myself off the ground and walked back to my huddle, my right side warm. Playing injured proved difficult, however. On 3rd Down I had a receiver open toward the sideline that I threw the ball to, but I just couldn’t get the ball far enough. Their cornerback caught the underthrown pass without even trying, and bursted down the sideline into the endzone without being touched.

7 - 7.

I felt my ribs progressively start to restrict my range of motion, and on the next three drives we failed to get a first down. After our final drive of the first half, I sat down on our bench and looked at the scoreboard.

7 - 24.

My ribs restricted me from even comfortably breathing in, and crippled the entire right side of my torso, my non-throwing side, but it was still near impossible for me to get a proper follow-through on my throws without a stabbing pain in my side. I looked down and thought about Hermes with tears in my eyes. I just wanted to ask him how he did it. How he would play through any injury no matter how severe. I just wanted to ask him what I should do in this situation. I just wanted him to bail me out and make it all stop.

I walked out on the field after halftime just ready for the game to be over. It hurt to even walk too fast at this point. Our opponents got the ball first in the second half, and on the opening kickoff their returner coughed up the ball, and one of our men popped up with the ball in his hand. Our bench showed life for the first time since early in the first quarter as our offense took over in enemy territory.

I trotted back onto the field still pessimistic. And deep in my heart I knew that our loss was going to be prolonged. On the first play, I handed the ball off, and our running back ran into a pile after about a yard. When I looked over to coach for the next play, the crowd started booming. I looked back to see a pile of about 15 men progressively moving forward, then our running back shot out of the pile temporarily dragging a man before shedding him and streaking to the end zone. Our fans all stood to their feet instantly re-energized as we were back in the game.

14-24.

On the next possession, our defense sustained the momentum by inducing a three-and-out. I was back on the field again, praying that Coach kept running the ball. And run the ball we did. On four straight carries, our running back was able to take us from our own 35 to the opposing 42.

“Let’s go,” Coach said to me before calling the next play. “We need you. Get it done.”

We had to run a play-action pass, obviously because we had been running the ball so effectively. It only made sense to run. But I was not confident in my ability to get the ball further than 10 yards down the field. When I took the snap and faked the handoff, the safety bit just enough to give our receiver a step downfield. I let the ball go even though it felt like I was getting stabbed in my side, and I could tell as soon as the ball left my hand that it was a piss-poor throw. The ball fluttered in the air and landed into the trailing defender’s hands. Another fucking pick.

Nobody even looked at me when I jogged off to the sideline. The opposing offense drove the ball on a long, clock-eating series into our red zone, but our defense stepped up yet again and held them to a field goal.

14 - 27.

When we got the ball back, the 4th quarter had just begun, and being down two touchdowns is not a position that you want to be in so late in the game. But Coach was not ready to give up. He called two straight passing plays, both of which went for incompletions. On an impossible-seeming 3rd & 10, I dropped back and saw a wide open lane up the middle for me to run. I hesitated to take it for just a second, giving their defensive end enough time to wrap me up. I struggled to stay on my feet to try to get a throw off, but the whistle blew.

The play should’ve ended there. But the defender proceeded to lift me up and slam me onto the turf. Never had I wanted to straight up die so bad in my life, thanks to the pain that had been inflicted on my ribs. I was ready to call it a night and let the trainers take me off the field. But I heard a faint commotion which caused me to look up. All five offensive linemen and our running back were all shoving around their defender, heated that he had hit me late.

We were down by two touchdowns in the fourth quarter and just had a three-and-out, we had a freshman quarterback that already threw two picks, and our best offensive player, the one that carried us to this point, no longer had a beating heart. And they still had that passion to win the game. Everybody did but me. I couldn’t even run the ball for 10 damn yards for these men that were giving everything. I lifted myself off the turf, shaking with rage. The pain in my ribs only added gasoline to the flames.

They ended up throwing a flag on both teams; them for a late hit, us for unsportsmanlike conduct, but we were still able to get a new set of downs. On first down, I riffled the ball in between the linebacker and the cornerback on an in breaking route, the pain in my side continuing to piss me off rather than hinder me. On the next play my receiver ran an corner route toward the sideline, and I lofted the ball and dropped it right in the perfect spot along the sideline where only he could get it. The throw earned a collective Ooooooo from the crowd. We continued to drive the ball downfield, but the clock was just ticking away. On a 3rd & 5 from our opponents’ 15-yard-line, my receiver beat their corner down the sideline and I layed the ball in the back corner of the endzone, where my receiver pulled it in. Touchdown. Our fans were now up and out of their seats, producing the loudest noise I’d ever heard in a stadium that I was playing. Goosebumps ran up my arms, realizing that we were actually back in the game and that there was a chance to win.

21 - 27

I couldn’t even celebrate before running to the sideline, my side was nearly unbearable. I watched our defense, praying for just one more stop so we could finish this game. On the ensuing kickoff, the opposing returner, clearly rattled by how much noise was coming from the stadium, muffed the kick. He picked the ball back up but could only manage a return to their 15 yard line.

There was 7:32 left on the clock when then possession started. One first down later, there was 6:45 and counting. They got yet another first down after that. 5:20 and counting. After their third first down, they crossed into our territory. 4:18 and counting. Our defense had their hands on their hips, chests heaving trying to suck in as much air as possible. The opposing team converted yet another third down and had the ball inside of our 30 yard line. 2:56 and running. We finally got the stop we were looking for, but they had the ball on our 23 yard line. It was about a 40-yard field goal, which was pretty far, but definitely makeable. I stood on the edge of our sideline as the stadium roared, trying to throw off the kicker.

The kick went up and looked good from my angle, but the ball started to die off and veer left. When it landed I saw our defense start leaping with excitement and knew that he missed it. The crowd shortly after erupted with excitement.

Before I jogged on the field, Coach grabbed me by the shoulder pads. “You got it in you. Let’s get it done.”

I said nothing and looked at the clock. Jogging on the field, I felt my adrenaline numbing my entire right side.

1:48.

It took one throw to my tight end to get our first 1st down.

1:41 and running.

We hurried to the line and I shouted out the next play over the cheering fans. Two plays later, we were good for another first down.

1:10 and running.

The next set of downs found us at a 3rd and 10. When I dropped back, their defensive end had beaten our tackle bad and he was on a b-line toward me. Just before he hit me, I saw my receiver running open across the middle. I let the ball fly and got planted into the turf, the pain in my ribs making me shiver on the ground. I couldn’t hear, my eyes were closed, and I had no idea what had happened to the ball I threw.

I felt one of my lineman grab me by the shoulder pads and help me off the ground, allowing me to regain my hearing and open my eyes. The crowd was buck wild, and our offense was scrambling to get to the ball so we could run our next play. Reality snapped back to me in that instant.

48 seconds and running.

I used every ounce of strength I had to run to the ball and get a spike off.

41 seconds left.

We had the ball on their 39 yard line, and still had one timeout left. On the following play, I completed a short pass to our running back, but he ran through four tackles to turn a 2 yard pass into a 12 yard gain.

31 seconds and running.

We got to the line and I hit my receiver 8 yards down the field.

19 seconds and running.

On the next play, I completed the pass to my tight end near the sideline, but their linebacker yanked him in bounds, keeping the clock running. We had to burn our last timeout.

8 seconds left.

“This is your game to win,” Coach said to me, looking me dead in the eye.

He called a designed run to me from our own 14 yard-line, probably expecting the defense to defend the pass. I lined up and everything went silent. We wanted to remove as many people as possible from the middle of the field, so I was all alone in the backfield, my running back split as a receiver. I closed my eyes and talked to Hermes.

I just want you to know that I’ve done everything I could to win you this game. I hope it’s enough.

I took the snap and acted as if I was dropping back to pass, letting their defenders retreat to cover our receivers, then I charged forward through the open lane. Their safety caught on to what was going on, and was steaming downfield to meet me at the goaline. In a split second, I made the decision to do something I’d never even done before. I leapt up and dove over the top of him, causing him to clip my knee and leave me somersaulting into the endzone. I landed hard on my back, but the sound of the fans in the stadium was deafening. I looked up at the scoreboard.

27 - 27.

0 seconds left.

Everybody was celebrating, but I knew that we still had to make the extra point. And so the stadium was dead silent as our kicker lined up for the biggest kick of his life. The ball snapped flawlessly, the holder caught it, and placed it down perfectly, and our kicker booted the ball directly down the middle of the uprights. I dropped down and sprawled out on the turf in relief as pandemonium struck in the stadium. We finally did it. We were state champions.

I felt somebody grab me shoulder pads, and opened my eyes to see Geneva standing over me. She leaned down and gave me a kiss perfectly lips, capping off one of the biggest emotional roller coasters of a night one could imagine.

And then reality came crashing back into my world.

Right after the euphoria of winning a state championship, I had to bury my brother. It looked like the entire state of New York was at the funeral. People I’d never even seen before were in tears over him. I couldn’t cry. I just felt empty inside. Like if I had died I wouldn’t even care.

“I’m sorry man,” a cracking voice said from behind me. I turned around to see Javon, all decked out in his red with his crew behind him.

Javon was my brother’s best friend since they were kids. He was like family to my house. To keep a long story short, even though Javon chose a life of gangs and my brother chose football, they were still tight and hung together.

“I was supposed to protect him,” he continued, audibly fighting back tears.

I just nodded my head. I didn’t really have anything to say to him, or anybody for that matter.

“Man if you need anything, we got you. Call me, you got my number. Call me.”

Initially, I had no interest in anything involving him or any of them. But my life continued to spiral out of control in the next week. My mom had developed a drinking addiction ever since my father died. But in the past, it wasn’t horrible. Some days, she would just dedicate herself to drinking and my brother and I knew to just steer clear of her. It had never gone a week straight like it had to this point. I had not heard from her at all. I also took the week off from school and my early morning workouts. I drowned myself into video games and completely disconnected from my waking life. I didn’t even know where my phone was, I couldn’t be bothered to use it.

It wasn’t until I was doing the usual at around 1 AM on a Sunday night (technically Monday morning), my room pitch black beside the glow of my video game, before I heard a tapping on my window. I opened my blinds to Geneva.

“How you holding up?” she asked when I let her inside.

“Pretty well.”

“Your phone still off? I tried calling.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you wanna talk?”

“Sure.”

Thankfully, Geneva knew me enough not to talk about Hermes. She struck up a conversation about what was going on at school, how training had been going without me, and about how she was considering doing MMA rather than boxing. I was looking her up and down most of the time, considering she was the first real life person I’d seen in days. Her light brown skin slightly illuminated by the glow of the TV, her flawlessly smooth and toned legs, her nipples slightly poking out of her white tee. The girl was gorgeous and she was just sitting on my bed. I looked up at her face.

“...but I don’t know if I’d be able to just get kicked in the face,” she rambled about MMA. “Like imagine trying to someone and th--”

She abruptly paused when I wrapped my arm around her lower back. Our eyes met each other for just a second, then I pulled her in and kissed her, harder than I ever had before. She was surprised at first, but quickly reciprocated my passion kissing me back. After a few more kisses, I felt her slide her tongue into my mouth, to which I met with my own. While our tongues rubbed together, I gently started to rub my hand up and down her inner thigh. I felt her breaths start to get more erratic as I rubbed her, letting me know she wanted me just as desperately as I wanted her. I moved my hand over to her pussy, which even though she still had her shorts on I could still feel the moistness. She let a little moan into my mouth as I rubbed it that sent me over the edge. I pushed her down flat on my bed and started to kiss down her neck, gently sucking and licking. She ran her hands through my hair as I kept working my way down her body, planting a trail of kisses all the way to her pussy. While she still had her shorts on, I started to tease her by slowly kissing directly on her pussy, inhaling her scent and making me thirsty for a taste.

I slid my hands to her waistband and pulled her shorts off, revealing a lack of panties and her bare pussy. I immediately licked slowly up her slit, getting my first taste of pussy and causing Geneva to sigh with anticipation.

I found her clit with my tongue, making her let out an “Ooohhh”.

I started to lick and lightly suck on her clit, getting increasingly more rapid the more I felt her get turned on. Before long, she grabbed tight on to my hair and started bucking her hips wildly.

“Ramesses you’re making me cummmmmm,” she tried her best to whisper, but she couldn’t hold it back.

I felt a new wave of her juices on my tongue and face as she let out short moans while cumming in my face.

After Geneva’s oragsm finished, she sat up and swifty yanked down my shorts, springing all 7 inches of dick free. I don’t think I’d ever been that hard, and the veins were bulging all throughout it.

“Lay down,” she softly instructed.

I obliged and lay on my back, and she lowered her head down to my dick and put the tip in her mouth. I’d never felt anything like it, and almost let out a moan but bashfully stifled it.

She popped it out of her mouth and looked up at me to say, “You can moan baby, I wanna hear it.”

She lowered her head back down and started to bob up and down on my dick, taking more and more of me in her mouth each time down. She then added her hand and started to stroke me as she sucked, and picked up her pace.

I felt the cum starting to work its way up and started to moan louder and tense up. She caught on to what was happening and ceased abruptly. I looked up at her quickly, wondering what happened, and she said to me, “I want you to cum in me tonight, baby.”

We started kissing again as I turned her on to her back and climbed between her legs again. She lifted them high and wide into the air for me to slide my dick into her pussy. Before I attempted to find her slit, she grabbed my dick and guided me to her opening, but I couldn’t put more than a few centimeters in.

I saw her grimace a bit, so I eased up.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m still…”

“It’s okay,” I assured her. “Just let me know when to stop.”

I gently pressed half the tip of my dick in before she told me to stop. After a few seconds passed, I put the whole tip in before stopping, and in about a couple minutes, I was all the way inside her. Her pussy fit perfectly snug around my shaft and was so warm and wet and… I didn’t even know how else to describe it besides fucking incredible. I let her adjust to my size for a little bit, then slowly started to stroke in and out of her.

“Mmmmm,” she started to moan. It was starting to feel good for her too. I gradually started to pick up my pace stroking into her, building a rhythm.

It only took less than a minute before I started to feel the tingle in my balls again. I picked up my speed fucking her and started wildly drilling in and out of her pussy.

“Cum inside me, pleease,” Geneva begged in a high-pitched squeal.

That’s all it took for me to blast her walls with my cum. I’d never felt that much cum shoot from my dick in my life; I shot around six or seven times.

Feeling my cum fill up her pussy sent Geneva into her second orgasm of the night, and I felt her walls clamp down on my dick as she grinded her hips back and forth.

Not only did she spend the night, but we fucked two more times that night and she came over every night that week for a repeat performance, all of my prior fantasies of her being fulfilled.

Again, temporary happiness tried to cloak all of the darkness in my life, but did a poor job. I was waiting until my mother went back to work to return back to school. However, another week went by without either of us leaving the house.

The Sunday night of the following week Geneva finally said something.

“You’re… coming back to school tomorrow, right?” she asked.

“I still don’t know,” I answered.

“You know you have to come back eventually, right?”

“...yeah.”

“It’ll be okay, Ramesses. You just gotta take it one day at a time.”

I didn’t have a response. I just sat there, forced to be reminded that life did have to go on.

Chapter 3

The next morning, I forced myself out of bed and crept into my mom’s room. The smell of vodka clocked me in my nose. She was wrapped in her blanket, head underneath her pillow.

“Mom.”

“Hmm.”

“Cmon, you gotta get up.”

“Mmmm.”

“Cmon Mom, it’s time to get up. You gotta go to work.”

She finally sat up and I saw her for the first time in weeks. Her eyes were bloodshot and lifeless. Her hair, usually so well kept and beautiful, was all over the place and disheveled. This woman wasn’t my mother.

“I’m not gonna go today,” she started.

“Mom—“

“But I promise you I will go tomorrow. Word as bond.”

She taught me when I was young from the Bible that your word is your bond, and whenever she said that with her promises, she came through. 100% of the time.

“Okay,” I responded.

I went back to my room, got dressed, and headed out the door toward school. When I got there, I just looked at the building. I saw the usual crowd of people strolling into the building, the busses parked at the curb, the security guards at the door. I imagined trying to sit in class and listen to my teachers, trying to joke with my friends and fake laughing as if anything was funny, trying to normalize not chasing down my brother after school.

And I walked away from the building. I didn’t have a destination, I just didn’t want to be in that school. I walked in the complete opposite direction, through the worst parts of my neighborhood. Gang graffiti lived on the buildings, music blasted from muscle cars, the color red was prevalent everywhere. It was dangerous. But I didn’t even care at this point.

“Ay King!” a familiar voice shouted from behind me.

I turned around to see Javon, hustling out of an alley.

“The fuck you doin out here?” he asked when he caught up to me. “You gonna get yourself hurt if you not careful.”

“I’m just not tryna go to school, my bad. I’m gonna head out.”

“And where you gonna go?” he quizzed. I stood without an answer. “C’mon,” he instructed, walking back in the direction he came. I followed him through the alley to a pretty nice-looking house the next neighborhood over. But when I walked inside, it was run down and clearly abandoned. A fog of weed hung in the air and there were about eight to ten people all scattered about doing different things.

“Stay in here today, but you goin’ to school tomorrow,” Javon stated. “Jaz, keep him busy.”

A shorter, light-skinned black girl walked over to us.

“Jaz, this is Ramesses,” Javon told her. “Show him how to bag, how to count, the busy shit.”

Jaz was absolutely gorgeous. She had a slim waist but wide hips, the type of girl you knew had a giant ass before she even turned around. She had long, jet-black hair, full lips, and tits that looked the absolute perfect size, about a D cup.

“What’s up, Ramesses,” she said in a cool tone, her voice having a little bit of bass to it. “I’m sorry about what happened to your brother.” I thanked her. “Follow me.” She led me over to an old, beat-up couch. “Take these,” she grabbed a tiny bag full of I-dont-even-want-to-know-what, but definitely some type of drug. “Put it on here,” she dropped it on a balance scale. “Do that until it evens out, then put them in one of these bags,” she instructed.

I did as I was told for hours, more bags of I-dont-even-want-to-know-what coming in from outside, only to be weighed and stashed by me. When the sun went down, I told Javon that I was going to leave and he said, “I’m serious, you goin’ back to school tomorrow. If you can be here, you can be in there. If you wanna come here after school, fine, but you gotta go to school.” I told him I understood, and before I went home, he handed me a $100 bill. “You earned it working today,” he told me.

That night Geneva never came to my window, and she was nowhere to be found the next morning either. I got up, and my mom was already awake in the midst of her morning routine, like usual.

At school, people were excited to see me back, but after sitting through one class, I was not excited to be back. Geneva came up to me in the hallway saying, “I thought you’d get my hint,” with a smile. “Take his pussy away and he comes to school.” And for the first time in what I realized was weeks, I laughed, and it felt good to do it.

After school, I went back home, but when my mom came back in she went straight to her room with the familiar black bag from the liquor store. After seeing that, I got up and headed straight for Javon’s place.

“Look who’s back,” he spoke in a casual tone.

I walked in without saying anything and got to work on whatever jobs he needed me to do. I was so engulfed in the work that hours passed by without me realizing. At 1 AM, I realized that I was pushing the envelope and should probably get back home. I said my goodbyes to everybody, but Javon stopped me from walking out of the door.

“It’s mad late, you should probably just stay here for the night and get back home early in the morning,” he told me. “I don’t want any of what happened to your brother happening to you.”

And so I stayed overnight and got up at 5 AM in the morning to leave before my mom got up and knew I was missing. Before classes began in school, Geneva pulled me to the side in the hallway.

“Where were you last night?” she whispered.

“I had something to take care of.”

“Something to take care of? Like what?” she retorted.

“Like my fuckin business Geneva,” I snapped before removing myself from the situation.

Again, I went through the motions during school, then when the bell rang I sped straight toward Javon’s house to get to work with him and his crew again. This time, however, I watched the clock and made sure to get home by 11 PM, just in case anybody tried to visit me again.

When I climbed through my window to my bedroom, I found Geneva sitting on my bed, just waiting for me.

“Still taking care of business?” she casually asked.

“Geneva, why are you here?”

“I tried to talk to you after school, but you were in such a rush, I practically had to chase you. I didn’t know you and Javon hang out.”

“So you’re stalking me?”

“Don’t even start with that,” she snapped back. “When you are the one that needs to get their shit together.”

“Get my shit together how Geneva? Stay home like a good little boy just so you can get your dick at night?”

“How about, stop hanging out with gangs so maybe you don't end up like your brother?”

She crossed the line bringing up Hermes, and she knew it.

“Get out of my fuckin room,” I said to her.

“Ramesses, I’m w--”

“I said get the fuck out of my room.”

“Whatever,” she said, getting up and making her way out. “You wanna kill yourself, go ahead. I don’t give a fuck anymore.”

The ensuing weeks fell into a routine. No more 4 AM workouts for me before school, no more football practice after school. Whatever used to call me to the football field and make the game exciting to me just wasn’t there anymore.

“Listen man, I understand you’ve been through a lot,” Coach said when I talked to him about it in a meeting. “Just take as much time off as you need, this game is not everything, and one day it’s gonna be over for you whether you like it or not. Take care of yourself.”

Instead of football, I drowned myself into working with Javon and his crew, tirelessly putting in hours and devotion and earning a good cut of money in return. Geneva and I were not even on speaking terms anymore, and everybody that I used to be close with was drifting away from me. I hadn’t even had a meaningful conversation with my mom in months. She would spend every minute that she wasn’t working drunk off her ass. Somehow, I was able to skate through the rest of my freshman year academically with a 2.2 GPA, which was excellent considering how little effort I put into my schoolwork.

In the summer I spent days straight without seeing my mother from just being in Javon’s, making money and being in the streets with them.

“Why I don’t ever see you with any girls?” Jaz asked me one day while we were in the house.

I shrugged.

“You like boys?” she asked in a whisper, as if I were keeping something a secret.

I laughed out loud before answering, “No, I like girls. Nobody’s really been into me like that recently.”

“Oh please,” she said with a smile. “I know you know you’re fine as fuck.”

“I know that, everybody else has to recognize,” I answered with a chuckle.

“Well I recognize,” Jaz answered, not breaking eye contact with me with her bright brown, almost green eyes.

I leaned in and pressed my lips to hers, to which she gladly reciprocated. Jaz sighed into my mouth as I lightly caressed the back of her neck and worked my way down her back, onto her outer thigh, and up her inner thigh.

We started to make out furiously; my tongue roamed all around the inside of her mouth, and my hand slid under her sweatshirt and up her stomach, under her bra to her tits. I held her D-sized titties in each hand and gently rolled her nipples around in my fingers.

Jaz parted from our makeout and stripped off her sweatshirt and unhooked her bra. She bit her bottom lip and the look she gave me made me want to cum as deep inside her as possible in that moment. I brought her closer and lightly kissed down her jawline, then planted kisses harder and harder down her neck and chest. I tried to take all of each of her tits into my mouth, and sucked and nibbled on her nipples. Jaz climbed into my lap and straddled me on the chair I was sitting on. She lined her pussy up with my hard dick print and ground it back and forth on my raging erection through both of our jeans. I never thought it was possible to cum in your pants until that moment. I had to grab her waist and stop her movement to prevent the ordeal from ending.

Jaz stood up and unbuttoned and wriggled off her jeans, her underwear coming off with them revealing her bald pussy. I frantically undid my jeans and slid them and my underwear down to my ankles, freeing my pulsing hard dick. Jaz pushed me back onto the chair and lowered herself onto my dick. Her eyes rolled back as I entered her slick, warm pussy. It was tight, but she was so wet that it slid in without a great amount of resistance. It felt like her walls squeezed my dick all warm and soft and was truly exceptional.

She leaned forward onto me and started to rock her waist around on my dick and created a rhythm. Her voice went high-pitched as she moaned softly in my ear, her hands gripping my back as she rode my dick.

“It’s so biigg,” she said softly in my ear as she continued to ride me.

When I felt myself about to blow my load, I started matching my hip motions with hers, stroking deep into her as she brought her pelvis to mine.

“Oh FUCK!” Jaz started to yell.

She picked up her pace and started to furiously buck her hips around, her movements becoming less intentional and more wild and erratic.

“I want you to cum in me daddy, please,” she begged.

With one more thrust my seed rocketed up to her cervix, and kept shooting out of me and filling up her pussy. As I came, her walls clamped around my dick and started spazzing as she came with me.

“Mmm,” Jaz moaned while we just sat and regained ourselves for a second. “I just knew you could fuck when I first saw you.”

We parted from each other and started to dress ourselves, and she continued speaking.

“I was waiting for you to try something with me, but you never did.”

“I’ve kinda been getting over somebody,” I explained.

“Ooh, who broke your heart sir?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” I said with a smile. “I’m over it.”

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