TackledP: A Sports Romance(63)

"You said no one was here," she hisses.

"It's eight o'clock at night," I whisper back. "No one should be here."

"We almost got caught."

"But we didn't," I assure her, pulling her against me. I'm still just as hard as I was two seconds ago.

I hear the voice of Coach Walker and Coach Thomas, and the low voices of people talking. I can't hear much through the heavy wooden door, only a word or two, something about alumni.

"Who's out there?" Cassie whispers.

"They're giving a tour or something," I say. "Donors, probably."

"They could open this door," she says, looking at me with panic in her eyes.

"The coat closet?" I ask. "In the middle of summer? I think we're pretty safe."

I pull her against my hardness, my hand going back between her legs under her skirt, pulling her panties down on the sides. She squirms against me. "We can't do it with them right outside."

I reach between her legs to find her clit, my mouth close to her ear. "I want to come inside you with the coaches right outside," I whisper. "I want you to come on me knowing the people who could fire you are standing ten feet away."

"That's fucked up, Colton," she whispers.

But she leans against me, spreading her legs so I can reach her clit. "Are you going to come for me like this?" I ask, my fingers pressing against her clit. "Or do you want my cock inside you?"

Coach Walker's laugh booms outside and Cassie flinches. "Hurry," she whispers.

"I knew you were a dirty girl." I undo my shorts and guide my cock between her legs.

Outside, muted male voices talk and their laughter echoes through the space. In the closet, Cassie puts her hand against the wall, and I enter her again, nearly groaning out loud at the sensation of being back inside her after being deprived of her pussy for the last agonizing few minutes.

"Fuck me," she whispers, encouraging me as I thrust quickly inside her. Her hand moves faster between her legs, her pussy squeezing my cock. It's like a pause button was pressed on the sex and we're right back to where we were before we were interrupted, except this time it's more intense.

"They could open the door at any second," I taunt, plunging deeply inside her until my balls slap hard against her pussy, the sound amplified in the quiet of the closet.

"Oh, God," she whispers. "More."

I give her more, and she's so tight and wet it's all I can do not to explode inside her, but I wait for her.

"Do what you…did before," she says softly.

I have to keep myself from screaming, "Fuck yeah!" as I push my finger against her asshole. As soon as I do, I feel her body convulse. She lets out a muted whimper as her pussy clamps down on my rigid cock. My balls clench and I explode inside her, filling her up with everything I have as I pull her hips against me. She milks me, her pussy squeezing me again and again until I'm spent.

I pull her tightly against me, my cock still inside her, and she leans into me. Outside the room, the voices get closer, but I don't pull out of her when she reaches down the side of her thighs and tries to pull up her panties. "Colton," she whispers.

"I like being inside you."

"They're coming."

The, the voices move away. "You worry too much."

"I should be worried," she whispers. "You're turning me into someone who takes too many risks."

"Admit you're having fun," I say softly.

"You're incorrigible."

"Too big of a word."

The door to the coaches' box slams closed and everything is quiet. "That was close," she breathes, her voice low. "Do you think they're gone?"

I reach between her legs and touch her clit, pinning her tightly against me. "I don't know," I say. "Why don't you scream when you come this time and if anyone comes running, we'll know they're still here?"

"Jackass."

"Naughty schoolgirl."

"I'm your tutor," she whispers.

"Naughty tutor needs a spanking."

"Shut up."





32





Cassie





"I've been learning all of this English and History crap – study skills, writing papers, taking notes – and you haven't learned anything about football," he complains.

We're lying in my bedroom studying. Actually studying – post-coital studying, but studying nonetheless. It's almost finals week for him and the final exam for my class is a week after his. My summer class is a piece of cake, so I'm not worried about that class, and my second set of credits is for doing my thesis research.

That I'm definitely feeling guilty about.

I decide I'm going to tell him. I'm going to confess that I'm proposing a thesis on masculinity in football players and that it has nothing to do with him, that I'm not using him for research, and that I got the idea when I first started tutoring him.