Hard & Deep: A Football Romance

The soft pop of the cork leaving the bottle sent memories of Jenna Tice and her attempt to poison Mr. Hayes running through Tracy’s mind. The memory was still fresh and, if she tried hard enough, sometimes she could still remember the smug look on the bitch’s face as she handed Mr. Hayes his glass. Neither he nor Tracy ever got any real answers as to why Jenna did what she did, but the entire Tice family had disappeared after the incident, leaving behind only questions.

Gordon appeared behind her and lowered her glass to her hands. He rubbed her shoulders for a moment, and she did her best to try and relax rather than tense at the touch.

"Thanks," she said quietly.

He sat down next to her, just close enough for the edges of their knees to touch, and raised his glass.

"To success,” he toasted.

Tracy met his glass with hers and pretended to take a sip. It didn’t seem like he was watching her very closely, but she was still careful not to give herself away. She wasn't about to drink anything he gave her. The dancing firelight flickered and popped. Neither one of them spoke for a while.

Gordon broke the stillness with a gesture. He put his hand on top of her knee, then leaned forward and finally spoke. "You know, Tracy, I’ve been thinking about the other night."

She looked down to his hand, where the scar stared back at her as plain as day, even in the room’s darkness. Seeing it made her want to jump up and run, but she knew that the answers were so close.

She bit the inside of her cheek and asked, "What about it?"

He took her glass and put both glasses on the table.

"I was thinking about you," he said and squeezed her thigh, "and the way that I felt when I was inside of you."

His hand continued to massage upward, getting dangerously close to her pussy.

Tracy, despite her misgivings, was becoming aroused by his touch and the things that he was s

aying. There was no doubt that the two of them had amazing chemistry, but she knew in her heart that he was up to something. There was no shaking it.

This was her chance and she knew exactly what to do.

She let him pull her legs apart, exposing her black panties under the short dress. Gordon bit his lip and caressed the smooth fabric.

"Wait, Mr. Baxter," she said and pushed his probing digits away. "Shouldn’t we take this elsewhere?"

"You’re right," he replied and stood up. He leaned over and pulled her to her feet, then reached around to fondle her ass with both hands. Tracy let him guide her into his bedroom, where a large four-poster bed awaited. She gritted her teeth, hating the way his hands felt on her, but knowing she needed to be in a controlled situation before she could do anything.

The couple tumbled onto the bed. At the very last moment, Tracy spun them around so that when they landed, she was perched on top of him. She sat up straight and swept the wild hairs out of her face, holding them up with both hands. She gently rocked her hips against his bulging girth, glad that her underwear was there.

"So, you want to fuck me again?" she asked, trying to keep the fear out of her voice.

Gordon tried to reach up and fondle her breasts, but she pushed his hands away and ground over him a little harder.

"I asked you a question," she repeated.

He seemed a little surprised and answered, "Yes."

"Good," she replied. She rocked her hips again. "But if you want to feel this again, you’re going to have to do something for me."

He responded with a familiar answer, "Anything."

"Don’t move," she commanded.

Tracy climbed off of him and walked over to his closet. She flung open the door and knelt down, quickly spotting what she was looking for: shoes. There were almost a dozen pairs, so she picked two pairs of his boots and quickly unlaced them. When she was done, she took her four new ropes and walked back over to the bed with them dangling from each end of a fist.

"And what do you intend to do with those?" he asked, his voice light and playful. If he only knew what she had in store...

She climbed back on top of him and grabbed one of his wrists.

"Oh come on now, Mr. Baxter," she said and cinched it tight. "I let you tie me up. Now it’s my turn to have my way with you."