His Tight End

“You are so fucking sexy in those sky-high heels. Leave them on,” he demands. He turns me around so that my back is against the door. Then he’s on his knees in front of me. He lifts my leg onto his shoulder, my heel digging into his back. Then he kisses the top of my pussy before licking my clit. He’s so fucking good at this. I never want him to stop. He makes me come on his face.

He stands and takes his suit off, and all I can do is stare at him. He kisses me roughly before turning me around, putting my hands on the door.

“Ooh,” I moan.

“Don’t move, Sasha,” he orders, and I have a choice but to obey him. He runs his hand down my back and my ass. He surprises me when he slaps me. In the six months we’ve been together, he’s never done anything like this, and I love it. He slides into my pussy from behind, hitting just the right spot.

“Oh, God,” I moan.

“No, baby girl, it’s just me,” he growls in my ear.

My body slams into the front door over and over in time with his thrusts. I come spectacularly and he’s not far behind. Later that night, we lay in bed, talking about the day.

I can’t believe I get to do what I love with the man I love every day. How did I get so lucky?

Chapter Seven

Brandon

February 2, 2022

The Big Game

Somehow we made it through a whole season without the press finding out we’re married, but she’s wearing “Meyers 87” on her jersey today. It’ll be the first time she’s using her married name professionally. The caveman in me loves the fact that my name will be on her back today. We don’t have to be at the stadium until four. The game starts at seven, and they are anticipating millions of households streaming the game. Amazon picked it up this year, and that brings it into many more houses than usual.

I am not fully awake when I register that Sasha isn’t in bed anymore.

“Baby girl?” I call but don’t get an answer. Getting out of bed, I move toward the bathroom, and that’s when I hear it. She’s throwing up. Since the door isn’t closed all the way, I push it open and find her hugging the toilet. Springing into action, I grab a washcloth that is somehow folded into a swan and shake it out. After wetting it with cold water, I wring it out and place it on her forehead. “Are you okay, Sasha?”

“Yeah, it’s just nerves, I think,” she says. She finally stands up and turns the shower on. When she comes out, she looks like she feels better. Usually, on game days, we eat a big breakfast and then fast until after. Since she’s not feeling well, I ordered her toast and ginger ale from room service.

“You should eat something more substantial, Brandon,” she says, taking a bite of her butterless toast. I didn’t go crazy with the meal, but I didn’t get just plain toast either. I eat my six pancakes and bacon like a champ.

“I’m good, I promise. What are you nervous about?”

“I guess playing in front of so many people.”

“It’s no different than other games.”

“You say that because you’ve won it before. This is my first time. The scale is grander. Even people who aren’t football fans watch. If nothing else, it’s a great excuse for a barbeque and some beers.”

“It’s an American tradition. People love to pick sides and hate it when their side loses. It’s no different.”

“Hmm,” she says, smiling before sipping her ginger ale. I let her eat the rest of her toast in peace.

It’s only ten. The coach doesn’t hold practice on game day, so we just stay in the room and watch sports central news, which is a mistake because all they are talking about is the Alphas. We are playing the also undefeated Salem Settlers.

“Ugh,” she says, turning the TV off.

“Press doesn’t start until four. What should we do until then?” I ask, wiggling my eyebrows at her.

“Read a book?”

“Are you feeling better?”

“Much. It was just nerves. I felt better as soon as I was done.”

“We can just lay in bed,” I tell her.

“Yeah, right. Like we could ever do that,” she deadpans, causing me to chuckle.”

“Wanna dance for me?” I ask. The way she moves on and off the field should be a sin.

“Well, it is a special occasion. I am sure I could be persuaded.” She grabs her phone and starts her “Dance For Brandon” playlist. Strong, sensual beats play, and I am always surprised by the way she mixes classy as fuck ballet moves with club dancing.

When she starts moving, I get lost in her body. The sway of her hips, the arch of her foot. The bounce of her ass. My favorite part is when she climbs on my lap and rides me to the music. My dick seeks her cunt like a fucking missile about to explode. When I finally get inside of her, everything is right with the world. Let’s face it; she is my world.