CHAPTER 3: THE QUARTERBACK
I stood there with my erection pressing against my slacks. I couldn’t move out of fear that I’d be labeled as queer or something. My body seemed to take pleasure in betraying me whenever Santiago was around or near me. There had to be some kind of way to get out of my contract. I couldn’t work here.
“We need to talk,” I said as I turned to the head coach, my hands strategically placed over my cock.
“Hope you not about leave,” came Santiago’s voice as his naked body stepped out from the steam, “you just got here, and we could really use you. Right, coach?”
“Right,” the coach replied. “Contract has been signed. No backing out,”
I could hear the coach, but I wasn’t paying that man any attention. My focus, my eyes, and my desires were on Santiago. His body was dripping wet from water. As he walked towards us, his heavy flaccid cock swung from side to side. Each time it swung, it would slap his thick thighs. Those thighs were so big they looked like they could crack nuts. I felt nothing but heat suddenly. The air around me felt hot, and so did I. I couldn’t be the only one who felt the heat.
I pulled my shirt from my body repeatedly and said, “I’m hot. Are y’all hot? It’s hot in here.” I was trying desperately to fan myself, but the heat continued to rise in me.
With a shit-eating grin, Santiago responded, “Naw. I feel good. What about you, coach? You hot?”
“Not at all. Listen, I have a meeting to get to. You guys already know each other, so I’ll leave you with Hernandez to show you the ropes. Welcome aboard, Tyson.”
As the coach was walking away, I was about to protest, but Santiago stopped me. He placed his index finger against his lips to silence me. I don’t know why I listened to him. This was the same man who had tried to violate my manhood not long ago. He nodded his head to the left. He wanted me to step to that side, and I did, stupidly.
“You happy to see me,” he whispered so low I could barely hear him.
“Why would I be happy to see you,” I asked in my normal tone.
“Shhh! Not so loud,” he whispered again. “I was only asking because he looks happy to see me.”
He looked down, and I followed his eyes. They landed on my privates. I was sporting a huge tent in my slacks. I quickly moved to cover it, but he grabbed my hands to prevent me from covering up. He wanted to see the effect he had on me. I caved under his intense gaze and allowed him to see me in such a state of arousal.
“If you let me see yours, I’ll let you see mine,” he said.
As we stood there, my heart raced. Everything about him made me feel different. Santiago placed a hand on the side of my face, and I felt a chill run through my body. It wasn’t just any old type of chill. It was one of those stop-you-in-your-tracks ice chills.
I stammered, “What game are you playing here? I’m not gay.”
“Neither am I,” he replied with a grin.
“Then. Get. Off. Of. Me.” My voice raised with each word that came out of my mouth.
“Make me, Papi.” His words came out borderline seductive.
The audacity and nerve of him boiled my blood. How could he corner me like that and make me feel things that I didn’t want to feel? His arrogance and lack of respect for my heterosexuality burned. It was disrespectful on more levels than I could count.
He lingered over me, not caring about the sounds of his teammates in the locker room. He was bold, brazen, and so fucking sexy. Why did he have to be so sexy? Why hadn’t I made him get off me yet?
With a slight chuckle, he said, “That’s what I thought. You’re into this shit. You just like fighting.”
He inched his face closer to mine. WHACK! If it had not been for the sound effect, I wouldn’t have believed it. I slapped him across the face. It was a bitch move, but sure enough, I did it. He had successfully reduced me to female tactics. I slapped the man, and it felt good but also less masculine than I wanted.
“You slapped me,” he laughed as he let me go.
“Yeah, well, you deserved it. Plus a few more,” I said.
“Just when I think I’ve allowed you to hit the limit, you do something else that makes me question just how much I’ll take from you and why I let you get away with it.”
“How much you’ll take from me? Are you mad? You have to be. Do you hear yourself speak? I’m a man. I like women and women only! Be gay! Wave a flag! I don’t give a fuck. Just keep it away from me.”
Something I said triggered him. He quickly pushed me up against the wall with all his strength. He was stronger than I thought. He had me pinned with nowhere to go. The look in his eyes told me I had gone too far. His boundaries had been crossed.
He snapped, “I’m not gay! Just because I like you and I want to fuck you doesn’t make me gay. I’m just a guy with a high sex drive who likes putting his cock in bitches! Make no mistake about it. You’re a bitch. You may not be my bitch, but you’re a bitch, baby!”
“It doesn’t feel good to have your boundaries crossed, does it?”
My words slowly sank in him, and the realization slowly occurred. It was like watching someone flip on a light switch in slow motion. His facial expressions were like an open book. That aha moment was like watching fireworks. He let me go, and he stepped back.
Very slowly, he said, “You’re right. I apologize.”
I started to walk away. Just as I was about to walk out of there, I stopped. I couldn’t leave things the way they were. He didn’t deserve to have the last word. After all the shit he had pulled with me, he deserved to have his legs cut out from underneath him.
Confidently I declared, “If I’m a bitch then I’ll decide whose bitch I get to be.” I didn’t look back at him as I spoke. He was staring a hole through me. I could feel his eyes burning through my backside, and that was enough for me.
***
The rest of the day was uneventful. I met a few of the people on my staff. There were three other people working under me. The biggest pain of my life was Santiago, yet he didn’t make any more passes at me. He was pretty busy with practice, which was a good thing. I’m not sure he would have actually stayed clear of me if he hadn’t been busy. Just as I was packing up my things, the door opened, and two guys came in with Santiago. He was in the middle of the three, limping, and his arms around each guy. Behind them was the head coach.
“Get him on the table,” Coach instructed them.
“What happened to him,” I asked. “I thought practice was over.”
“It is. Seems our star quarterback thought it’d be fun to run some extra laps.”
Santiago defended himself, “I was just burning off some steam, coach.”
“Save the steam for the field, son—Tyson, it’s time to prove you’re worth the money we’re paying you.”
“I’ll take care of it. Can you guys give me some room to work,” I asked.
“We’ll do you one better. I’ll be in my office. Come find me when you’re done.”
They all left after having a brief conversation with Santiago. It was then just the two of us. I instructed him to lie back so that I could examine him properly. He complied without any of his normal banter.
“Where is the pain,” I asked him.
He placed his hand on his inner left thigh, and then he moved his hand up his thigh towards his groin. I swallowed hard as I watched his hand move up his thick thigh. His shorts hung slightly loose. I could almost see right up his legs. There was a warmth that formed in the bottom of my belly.
“How would you rate your pain on a scale of 1 to 10?”
“Which pain,” he began, “the one in my thigh or my ego?”
Dumbfounded, I asked, “What? Ego?”
“My ego is a ten. This sexy dude made me feel stupid in the showers earlier. As much as I want to dislike him, he keeps making me like him. I even got him a job just so I could see him again.”
I shook my head in disbelief, “He didn’t ask you to do that.”
“He didn’t have to. I wanted to. Was it selfish on some level? Yes. Do I regret it? No. What I regret is yelling at you earlier. I’m sorry for crossing your boundaries. I’m into you, and I get it you’re not into me. I faked an injury just so it wouldn’t raise suspicion.”
“Wait…what? You’re not hurt,” I asked.
“I mean a little. It is a muscle spasm. It usually passes on its own,” he said sincerely.
I wanted to be mad, but honestly, I found it to be flattering. A guy was going through all that for my attention. I felt like Meg Ryan in a 1990’s romcom. This hunk of a guy really liked me, and he was having a hard time accepting that he had read the signals wrong.
I exhaled, “I’ll massage it out for you. Normally, I’d have someone on my staff do it, but they’ve all gone home for today.”
“Lucky me,” he said with a bright and cheery smile.
He slowly pulled his shorts up, revealing more of his thigh meat. I could have massaged him over the fabric, but for some reason, I didn’t object. I went right along with him. He flinched when I placed my soft hands on his thigh.
“Did that hurt?” There was concern in my voice. It shocked me because I didn’t think it’d come out in front of him. I didn’t want him to know I cared.
“No,” he said softly, “just cold.”
“Sorry.”
He took my hands and sat up. I watched him carefully, unsure of what his next move was. He brought them closer to his face, and then he blew his warm breath into my hands. My entire body warmed like a lake on a bright, clear, sunny day. The gaze cast upon him was intense.
“You should be warm now,” he said with a lick of his lips.
I placed my hands back on his thigh and began to work the muscle. I applied the perfect amount of pressure. Every so often, I alternated between a soft and firm grip on his thigh. His body relaxed under my touch. He closed his eyes and let out a soft moan. As I worked his muscles, the back of my hand brushed his balls.
He didn’t react; his balls were making contact with my hand. I continued to move along his thigh. His breathing increased, and so did his soft whimpers. There was something provocative about knowing that I was giving a man pleasure. My hand moved a little higher up his thigh. I glanced at his face, and he was in paradise. His eyes were still closed, but he had this amazing smile on his face.
He felt my eyes on him because he slowly opened his eyes and looked into mine. His dark eyes were full of lust. My eyes traveled down his body. His thick shaft was visible, throbbing and hanging down on the right side. I followed the length of it and found the head of his cock just barely sticking out the bottom of his shorts.
“Sorry,” he said as he reached for his cock.
I didn’t want him to cover it. Instead, I wanted him to show me more. I knocked his hand away and pushed his shorts up. He waited to see what my next move would be. I willed myself not to think and just go with what felt natural in the moment. His beautiful uncut was just there throbbing in my face, and it looked so needy.
“It’s another muscle, right,” I asked as if I needed his agreement to proceed.
He nodded his head, and I wrapped my hand around another man’s dick for the first time in my life. It felt hot and heavy. He let out a loud moan, and I began to stroke it for him. His cock bounced as I jerked it. He laid back on the table and enjoyed the attention I provided his cock.
“Oh fuck,” he moaned. “That feels so good.”
His moans encouraged me to stroke him harder and faster. My cock felt like it was going to burst in my pants. I continued to milk him, trying my best to draw out his prized locked deep in his balls. I couldn’t get over how fat and juicy his dick was. There was a long vein running along the side of the shaft. His cock began to drip with precum.
“Make me cum. Put your finger in my ass, Tyson,” he panted as he struggled to get his shorts off.
I didn’t question it. I helped him get those shorts off. He spread his legs and exposed his hole to me. It was throbbing like a mother fucker. I pushed my finger against the hole, and it opened right up. My digit slid inside of him. His insides were hot as fire. He let out a loud, needy moan.
I pulled my finger out, rubbed it across his hole, and then slid it back inside. He moved his hips, trying to get more of it inside of him. I added a second finger and plunged his hole. He groaned, and his dick released more precum. The sight of it all was overwhelming in such a hot way.
I began to move my fingers in and out of him. I was practically fucking this hot, beefy pro athlete. He was moaning and groaning. His cock swelled even more in size as I jerked him. His body was squirming under me. Part of me wanted to feel what he was feeling. He looked so sexy in his pleasure zone.
“Taste me, Tyson.” He moaned.
“What,” I asked, afraid he’d repeat it but also ready to be upset if he didn’t
He pleaded, “Please taste me. Just once. Taste me, baby!”
There was something about being called baby and the way he said it. It lit this fire and desire inside of me. His cock was dripping all over the place. It was like watching a stream flowing. I bent over and took the head of his cock into my mouth. His precum attacked my taste buds, giving off a flavor I had never had before.
“FUCK! YES! Take me deeper,” he cried out.
I took him deeper down my throat. My tongue moved up and down his shaft as I massaged the head with my lips. My fingers went deeper into his hole, and his walls expanded around my fingers. He thrust his hips up, and his balls tapped my chin. He cried out, and his cock twitched.
“FINALLY! FUCK YES! OH MY GOD!” He let out such a loud scream.
My mouth was flooded with his hot cum, and I was left with one simple question at that exact moment. Do I spit, or do I swallow it? More to come….
