Chapter 2
Gavin
Fuck, my knees hurt.
As do my shoulders, back and feet.
The only thing that might make it out of Bologna intact and in good shape is my dick. Which is currently being sucked off by a beautiful Italian girl.
Yeah, my cock is feeling pretty damn good right now, easing some of the misery associated with my shitty game tonight. To say I’ve been in a slump lately is an understatement.
Thankfully, the female fans in Italy are ravenous for American players. They are some of the best things about playing in Europe this year. I hate complaining about this opportunity, but the last few months have sucked for me. Not only have I never been away from home for this long, but my play has been totally off center. I can’t seem to hit the rim or the basket to save my life.
My entire future career is riding on my performance over the next few months of the season. If I don’t get my shit together, I might as well hang up my jersey and call it quits, because I’ll never get into the NBA at the rate I’m going.
While I was thrilled at first to experience life overseas, and I’m making a good living doing what I love to do, I miss home. I miss my mom and my brother, my friends and just life in the U.S.
I don’t have many regrets about where I am right now. I just wish I could turn things around out on the court.It makes me wonder if I should’ve opted to go to college first. But instead I chose to draft overseas. It was the only option for a guy like me, because there was no way I was going to receive a scholarship to a four-year college.
Simply put, I couldn’t make the grade. While my basketball skills are strong, my scholastic ability is considerably lacking. I barely squeaked by to graduation to earn my high school diploma. There was no way I could make the 2.5 grade point average required for a spot in college. Community college may have been an option, but I only wanted to play basketball, not go to class.
My dream since the fourth grade was to play pro basketball. And moving over to the European league was my best shot at it for my future.
My agent told me that it would provide me better eligibility when it came time to draft into the NBA. So, that’s what I did. I achieved a spot in the European Basketball Association (EUBA) playing for theFirenze Furyand moved to Italy six months ago.
The first three months were epic.Traveling around the country, playing against competitive opponents and becoming a big celebrity player. How can I complain about that?
Unfortunately, the novelty soon wore off. My understanding of the language is limited – I have trouble enough reading and writing in my own English language, much less a foreign one – and the majority of Italians don’t bother speaking English.
Case in point, the chick whose lips and hands are currently wrapped around my dick.
It’s a good thing sex is a universal language and my body understood exactly what she wanted to do with me after tonight’s game. She was waiting outside when I came out of the arena, ready to commiserate our team’s loss at a local tavern. And now I’m in the bathroom of the bar getting a blow job.
Not a bad way to spend the evening.
My hand lands on top of her long hair, dark as Italian espresso, as her wide brown eyes find mine in the dim light of the bathroom. She moans and the vibration rattles through my shaft, my balls tightening as they ready to let go.
I drop my head against the concrete wall, growling in pleasure. “Fuck, yeah...veloce…buono...”
There are a few Italian words I’ve become familiar with. Veloce is faster and buono is good. And she is bella.Incredibly beautiful.
The girl continues sucking my cock into the back of her throat like a champ. I’m getting close, feeling the tingling sensation climb up my legs, ready to release my load into her mouth when my phone goes off in my pocket, temporarily ceasing her movement and distracting me from my pleasure.
The girl, I think her name is Natalia, lifts her brown-eyed gaze to me, her fingers stilling on my balls. I pause, waiting a beat to see if it’ll just go to voicemail. When the ringing stops, I give her a nod to continue.
“Ancora, per favore.” She understands my limited Italian request for more.
Natalia resumes her expert sucking, taking me deep into her mouth again so I hit the back of her throat. I groan wildly, so close to shooting my load when my damn phone goes off again.
“Fuck.” I grit out impatiently.
I slam my palm against the cold wall behind me, the noise reverberating across the stall, but Natalia waves me off. Her only concern seems to be getting me off. And fuck, I want that too. I’m desperate for it.
She hums against my stiff cock and nothing can stop me now as I begin to come in long jets down her throat, my hand tightening at her scalp as I pulse through the pleasure.
“So good,” I murmur, dropping my hand from her head, watching her throughheavily lidded eyesas she slides her lips off my wet dick. She grins a sexy smile, wiping her mouth in clear satisfaction.
My legs are unsteady and feel like putty, either from the awesome orgasm or post-game exhaustion. I breathe in deep, trying to regain my balance and lending her my hand to assist her up to her feet. I place a quick kiss to the tip of her nose.
