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“Fuck, I’m going to cum,” Danny suddenly says, reigniting the movement of his hips. Moving without thinking, I let my body fall forward and his cock pops out of me. I go down to my knees fast and turn to him, reaching for his cock with both of my hands.

“Yes, you’re going to cum…” I tell him, looking him in the eye with a sinful smile on my lips. “All over me,” I conclude as I start to stroke him with both of my hands, moving them back and forth in a flurry of movement. I do it so fast that my hands are just a blur, the spasms of his cock against my fingers making me delirious.

“Fuck,” is his final word before a long and thick rope of cum shoots out from his cock. It hits me straight in the face, and I open my mouth by instinct. The next strand goes inside my mouth and over my tongue; angling his cock, I aim it at my mouth until it’s brimming. I keep on looking him in the eye as he cums, his look of pure bliss making it oh-so-worth-it.

He keeps on gushing a veritable river of semen all over me, blanketing me in white. Strands of it are dripping down my face and onto my neck, and both my tits are already covered in a gooey layer of his seed. And still he keeps on cumming, his cock spasming against my fingers even more harshly with each passing second. Possessed by lust, I lean forward and wrap my lips around his cock, taking inside my mouth whatever cum there still is inside of him.

Only when my mouth is brimming with his semen does he stop, exhaling sharply and pulling his cock out.

“That was so fucking good,” he whispers, looking me in the eyes. Grinning, I open my mouth, showing him how much of his cum I’m holding there and prepare myself to swallow it. But a sudden thought crosses my mind and I just stop; my grin widening, I grab Danny’s hand and pull him down. He comes willingly, kneeling on the floor right in front of me.

Without even knowing what his reaction is going to be, I just lean into him and press my mouth against his, shoving my tongue inside his mouth. I push the cum inside my mouth into his, and he starts kissing me with a fury I didn’t know he still had in him. We swap cum, our tongues dancing around one another, for God knows how long. Right now, time has become meaningless.

“Come,” he whispers, pulling back from my kiss. I smile at him, noticing the way his lips glisten from the cum that coats them. Grabbing my hand, he pulls me up to my feet and then takes me to the showers. “Let’s get you cleaned off,” he says, going down on one knee and slowly taking off my heels. He turns the water on, and it doesn’t take long for the whole space around us to become blanketed in warm steam.

Stepping under the running water, he pulls me after him, running his hands down to my breasts and smearing his own cum over my skin. The hot water does the rest, pushing his fluids out of my body.

“I’ve never done anything like that,” I admit, looking at him and realizing I have no idea why I’m telling him all this. This is just fun, right? Yeah, yeah… Somehow, that doesn’t ring truth. Sure, whatever we have going on between the two of us is fun, but I’m starting to think it’s growing into something more…

“That makes two of us,” he says, kissing the corner of my mouth.

God, this must be a dream I’m living right now. If it is, do me a favor: let me sleep forever.

32

Fiona

G’morning, world, I think to myself as I sit up on the bed, two minutes before the alarm goes off. I stretch, lifting my arms up in the air, and then swing my legs off of the bed. I usually don’t wake in such a good mood, but I guess it’s not every day that someone fucks me in the Nailers’ locker room, is it?

Last night was so amazing. After the game ended, I could barely wait to go back to Danny’s place… And I wanted it so much that we ended up not even leaving the stadium. I don’t know what he’s doing to me, but I feel a change taking place. I mean, I used to be such a nice girl, and now I’m impersonating press officers so that I can get fucked in a locker room? Carpe diem, I guess.

I grab my cellphone as I drag myself to the kitchen, and I smile as I notice that Danny already texted me a few minutes ago. Good morning, babe, his text reads, heading to the gym now. I fire back a quick text, feeling like a complete teenager, and then sit at the kitchen table.

“Jesus, someone’s cheery today,” Becca says, and I almost jump out of my seat. I didn’t even notice her when I walked in. She’s in her pajamas, her hair a disheveled mess, eating cereal so slowly she looks like she’s still asleep.

“I am cheery,” I reply, probably sounding happier than I should. Becca has been complaining these past few weeks about how she can’t find a real man, and I guess that the fact that I’m dating Danny Manning isn’t really helping. Still, she’s my friend, and she’s happy for me all the same.

“Well, spill it out, happy-face,” she says, sitting down at the table by my side and leaning into me with narrowed eyes, looking like a cop ready for a deposition. “Where did you do it?”

“The locker room,” I confess, biting on my lower lip as I wait for her predictable reaction.

“The Nailers’ locker room?” Her eyes widen at that and, when she processes what I’ve just told her, she lets out a bright clear laugh. “He nailed you in the Nailers’ locker room.”

“Yeah, yeah… That’s funny,” I protest her bad joke, but I join her laugh all the same. It’s been months since I’ve woken up in such a good mood.

“You want to know what’s funny?” she asks me, a mischievous grin on her face.

“What?” I ask as she gets up and walks to the counter, grabbing the folded newspaper she was reading when I got here.

“This is funny,” she laughs, throwing the New York Daily Journal right in front of me. In bold black letters there are only two words, FAIR CATCH, and down below there’s a blurred photograph of Danny and I leaving the Nailers’ stadium in his Aston Martin. “Oh my God.”

“That’s right, babe. You’re a star now.”

Still barely believing it that I’m the NY Daily Journal’s cover, I turn the pages until I find the article. I read it in one sitting, and then I reread it for good measure.

“They’re treating you like a princess,” Becca states with a chuckle, and it’s the truth. They refer to me as the woman behind Manning’s recent success and as the mysterious (and charmingly beautiful) woman that snagged the city’s most eligible bachelor.

“Oh, God. Is this really happening? Please tell me that this isn’t a dream.”

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