A Dirty Player: A Football BWWM BBW Romance. (2 page)

Sally continued. “So, Mr. Football Star. How many girls have been in this bed?”

It was sad when this was the toughest question I was asked. I used to tally that shit in high school. When you grew up in a small town with nothing better to do, it was a race to see who got laid the most. We laughed at those who couldn’t get any, while bragging about how much pussy we got, with some of us exaggerating. I myself lost count at around 20, and that was in my junior year. I must have slept with dozens and dozens of women since then, especially since I became a football star.

It seems like some girls are attracted to a man who can throw a ball. Who knew?

I decided to be honest. “I lost count a long time ago. Probably around 100, though.”

Did this former church girl judge me? Nope! Instead, she blushed, got on her knees like a seductive choir girl, and said, “That’s pretty hot. Maybe the devil’s taken me, but I like a man who can dominate a bunch of women.”

Poor Sally. This is what happens when a girl is sheltered for so long. It’s like shaking a two liter of soda for 18 years straight, and then opening it and expecting it not to explode in a fizzy blast.

I smiled, giving her my cocky grin. After I had myself some water, it seemed like my hangover was finally fading away. Meanwhile, Sally crawled on the bed like a cat.

“How many girls stayed with you?” he asked.

I shrugged. “Most went away after realizing I’m not a loyal guy. A few just wanted to bone me like it was a ritual. I’ve had a few stay, but they left after I cheated, they cheated, or both.”

Yes, throw my skeletons at her. Maybe she’ll be turned off by me so I can move on to the next girl.

Instead, Sally licked her lips, her lipstick covered in her spit. I admit, it was sexy.

“Well, I can be yours, and you’re free to have girls on the side.”

Oh, really? We’ll see about that. I had to admit, it was interesting seeing a girl this open and horny who wasn’t under the influence of Mr. Jim Bean or Mr. ‘Weiser.

I walked up to her, giving Sally my sly grin. Before I knew it, she grabbed my shirt and pulled me into the bed. She kissed my lips hard.

Sally kissed like a total newbie, but I have to admit, newbie girls do have the best kisses. They cover your mouth in spit, lash you with their tongues, and love to see who can have the longest make out sessions. We were soon on top of each other, fully clothed, and kissing like mad.

It was I who pulled away first, panting, a torrent of drool falling from my mouth like a waterfall. Sally grinned, and with her hand, she stroked the bulge sticking out of my pants.

“Hard already? You’re such a stud. Your thing is freakin’ magical.”

Before  I knew it, Sally pulled down my pants and boxers, my cock springing out. I’ve always been proud of my penis. Its length is enough to satisfy any woman without being ridiculously huge, its girth is just right, it can last when it needs to, and it can keep hard at times, even after an orgasm.

Like a flytrap, Sally’s lips went over the head of my cock, sucking me off as she lied flat on her back and while I hovered over her. As she sucked, she had such a whorish look on her face, like a porn star who actually loves what she does. When it came to sucking dick, this woman was a champ, going fast while taking most of my cock in without choking or anything.

As she sucked, she pressed one hand against my thigh while undressing herself with the other. Sally let her breasts come out. Not quite bee stings, not quite melons, they were a reasonable size. With one hand, I grabbed her left tit. She let out a light moan. With the other hand, I used her head to shove myself deeper down her throat. The way she sucked me was fucking amazing, I had to admit. She squeezed my dick dry, her mouth like a vacuum.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I’m not usually the type to cum from a blowjob, but this was too good. I let out my load down her throat. As I yanked my cock out, she coughed up some of my jizz, swallowing the rest. My headache returned in one powerful burst. See, whenever a guy is having a bad headache, an orgasm can intensify it. The pain made my head throb, but also felt good, in its own twisted way.

Sally gave me a wide-eyed stare, some sperm oozing from the side of her mouth.

“That was amazing,” she said to me. “You’re a frickin’ beast.”

My penis shot out a stray wad of cum, which hit Sally on the cheek, and then it remained hard. Sally saw this and took it all off. I had to admit, she had a good body for a church girl who didn’t get out much. When I first bedded Sally, she had hair on her pussy. Not like a ‘70s porn star or anything, but still bushy. Now, it was clean-shaven. Sally spread her lips. Her pussy was still small and that of someone who was still a virgin by society’s standards. Getting laid once is something you can toss away, after all.

“I want it!” she demanded, pointing to her pussy. “Give me everything!”

Well, if she wanted it so bad, that’s what I was going to do. And my dick seemed to be in the mood as well. She spread her legs and I pinned her to the bed with my arms. The head of my cock entered her, her juices giving it more than enough lubrication. It was almost like I was having sex with someone more experienced.

Sally screamed and shouted my name. In a way, it was annoying. Lay down on the theatrics, girl! I was tempted to go to the sex shop and get her ball gag or something to shut that mouth up. But I got used to it. Sally was quite a good fuck, allowing me to go fast and having her walls wrap around me quite a bit.

I soon found myself reaching climax. But there was no way I was going to cum inside.

See, I was a guy who liked to be risky, but not be an idiot. I didn’t care for condoms, nor did I want to risk getting a girl pregnant. I considered myself to be the master of pulling out, able to remove my cock safely from a girl before I cum. Once the orgasm began building, I started pulling out my cock.

To my surprise, Sally used her hands to pull me back in. What the hell was she doing? I know she’s a sheltered church girl and unironically thinks a stork delivers babies, but still. Using my strength, I pulled out and pointed my dick at her face. Another stream of cum shot from my dick, covering Sally’s cheeks, mouth, forehead, and hair with cum. I admired how I could turn a woman’s face into a cum dumpster.

My penis finally fell asleep as the last bit of cum drizzled from it. Sally started to wipe off the jizz from my face, tasting it and swallowing it like candy. Once everything was gone, she lied on the bed like a cat.

“That was fun,” she said.

I crossed my arms. “You’re great, baby. But you tried stopping me when I was pulling out. Why was that?”

She gave me a ditzy stare. “I did? Sorry!” she said. Was that genuine? She was one of those girls who I couldn’t tell.

Sally cuddled up to me, her arms wrapping around me like a monkey. “You’re amazing,” she said. Well, at least she didn’t tell me she loved me… yet.

“You’re amazing too,” I said. We collapsed on the bed, with Sally grabbing the remote. I reached for my ibuprofen.

The next few hours, I admit, were nice. We cuddled, watched some dumb TV shows, and said very little. We went for a couple more rounds, even doing it to some stand-up comedy. We even tried doing it in the shower. It seems like something that would be hot, but in reality, it’s impractical. Your cock keeps sliding out.

Once nightfall happened, Sally looked at the time. “Oh, crap,” she said. “I gotta go back to my dorm soon. I got homework tomorrow, and besides that, I think my dad’s going to Skype me.”

“Skype?” I asked.

“He still thinks I’m a good church girl, and he always checks up on me to make sure I’m doing nothing bad. He’s paying my way in, so I’m not going to get too hung up about it, but still. Anyway…”

She kissed my cheek. “I’ll text you when I get back. For the record, you’re totally my boyfriend right now.”

And with that, Sally left, leaving me with a blank stare. Sally was sexy, had a ditzy but alright personality, and was a good fuck, but I was getting a little worried about her attachment issues. If she wanted to call me her boyfriend, okay, but I don’t want a girlfriend right now. The only thing I’m committed to is my football game.

Speaking of which…

I started doing more exercises, thinking about the big game. I was totally going to beat the other team, whether they liked it or not. Soon, Sally was more or less off my mind. That’s how little I cared about her.

The outside of the stadium was a warzone. Cars battled for a parking spot, circling around the lot like vultures. People gathered in line, only to curse at the poor guy behind the ticket booth once he told them tickets were sold out. As I walked to the stadium, I was already regretting my decision. And I came here early, too.

Julie followed right behind me, until I made it to the ticket booth. After we handed our tickets to the man behind the counter, and once he gave us armbands, Julie ran off from me, probably to flirt with more guys, or get some overpriced nachos.

Oh well. Since I was early, I might as well wander around the stadium for a while. These tickets guaranteed me a reserved spot, so I didn’t have to sit my butt on a seat for too long. I explored around the stadium, blending in with everyone quite well.

I soon found myself wandering close to the changing room. I quickly backed away, only to run into a player.

“Woops, sorry,” I said, trying to apologize. I looked up to see who I ran into.

It was Evan Richardson.

I only knew that name because everyone wouldn’t shut up about him. Evan was almost like a mythical figure in the football world, and I wasn’t joking. Some hailed him as a god of football, able to get a win even if the rest of the team wasn’t feeling too great. Others, preferably the sluts of the sorority kind, said he was a player. I wasn’t talking about a football player, either.

The only reason I knew it was Evan was because he had his name on the front of his jersey. I didn’t pay enough attention to football to know what the players looked like. On TV, they are all helmet-wearing ants, anyway.

But I had to admit, Evan was a hunk. The chiseled face, the messy hair, the muscular build… I usually didn’t care for sports player, but this man was an exception. He made my heart go thump-thump, as my mamma would have said.

“Sorry about that,” Evan said. His eyes wandered. The poor guy seemed distracted by a lot of things. Well, I imagined the game didn’t help much when it came to being stressed out. “I was wandering around, and didn’t see you. What are you doing here, anyway? Only players are allowed here.”

“Really?” I said. “I’m so sorry. The crowd was too much, so I decided to walk around.” I explained to Evan about winning the tickets, but I left out the part where I didn’t care too much about football. I know some players are quite passionate about football, seeing it as more than a free ride.

“It’s quite all right. The players are all holed up, listening to the coach. I already know what I’m doing, though.” He explained to me his plan to defeat the hawks, using a lot of football jargon that went over my head. I was busy staring at his biceps and cute face, and I just kept nodding my head as my ears drowned out whatever he had to say.

“Anyway, what’s your name? Always want to know the names of everyone.”

“I’m Alisha,” I said, trying to hold back a blush. I knew he was probably doing this because he felt obligated to, but still. It made my heart pound.

“Alisha, huh? Anyway, since you decided to come chill with me, I should give you an autograph. I give out small trinkets whenever I run into my fans, and I typically sign them. Luckily, I think I have one left.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out what appeared to be a small football carved of wood. Along with the football, he had a Sharpie.

“To Alisha,” he muttered to himself as he signed it. “Thank you for being a fan!”

He then handed me the football. I waited a bit for the marker to settle, and then I stuffed it into my pocket. Before I could say anything else…