Deep End: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (31 page)

But what was happening to me now with Colton was incredible…it was simply that I didn’t need the clitoral stimulation. I mean, sure, it had felt absolutely wonderful when he had gone down on me…and for a moment I thought that his pelvic bone was pushing against my clitoris…but no, that wasn’t the case.

I was sure of it now…the only way he was pleasuring me was with his cock…with straight penetration. Of course, the penetration was much, much more intense than usual. For one thing, his cock was bigger. Also, he was simply fucking me much more intensely than the other men I had been with. It might have also had something to do with his skill…he seemed quite good at what he was doing. I couldn’t begin to figure out exactly what it was he was doing…they weren’t “moves” exactly, at least not in the traditional sense of a move that a guy learns in order to please a woman.

Instead, Colton seemed to have some innate sense of what would feel good to me. Or maybe it was just that he was doing what felt good to him…and those same things felt good to me too. Either way, we had some sort of connection. I wasn’t sure what would seem more impressive or stranger to me: whether he was anticipating my desires or merely fulfilling his own.

“Hmmm,” groaned Colton. He was thrusting harder and faster than ever. He reached down with his head and kissed me deeply. It was a passionate kiss…it was something more than regular casual sex partners shared…

In that moment, I truly believed something had already happened. We had somehow passed a threshold of connection that is rarely achieved by most couples…something had happened and we certainly weren’t just two people fucking.

I knew that he felt it too…I knew because I felt it from his cock, his mouth,
his
entire body. I saw it in his eyes as he gazed deep into mine as he fucked me…harder and harder…over and over.

“Turn over,” he said.

“You want to fuck me from behind, baby?” I said, in a voice horse from pleasure.

For an answer, he picked me up, as if I were as light as a rag doll. He gently flipped me over…there was force to it…I could feel his potential for power as he lifted me…but he did so in such a refined and gentle way that made me shudder on the inside from admiration…admiration for his powerful body, for his caring presence.

I was flat on my stomach.

Colton was on top of me in a flash, pressing his powerful body against mine. My breasts were pressed into the mattress. My whole body was sunk a little into the mattress. It felt wonderful to be, in a way, trapped, sandwiched between Colton and the mattress. I felt secure and safe…finally, since I rarely felt like that in my day-to-day life.

But my working life, my daily life, that was far behind me…
.right
now I was getting fucked by Colton, and that was all I could think of. That was all I knew. That was my whole world.

Before I knew it, Colton’s cock had gone right inside me again…the same wet and warm place that had received him just moments before.

It felt different. It always felt different from different angles.

Once again, Colton was showing that he was much more adept, much more skilled than the average guy. Or was he really? Was it just that we had something special between us, making Colton’s cock and his thrusts feel especially good? If I’d had to choose which was true, I would have chosen the second. But even then I couldn’t kid myself too much. I knew that Colton must have been with many, many women. After all, he had just kicked out one from this very hotel room, this very bed.

He was thrusting just as fast as before, if not faster. Sometimes when I was on my stomach, guys weren’t able to penetrate deep enough. But Colton could. Colton’s cock could. It went all the way in. It was just right.

“Oh, baby,” I said, moaning.

I instinctively reached down, sliding a hand between my taught stomach and the mattress…usually this was when I reached down and massage my clit, going as fast as I could in order to come as fast as possible…or at least before the guy finished.

But the truth was that I didn’t need it. I didn’t need clitoral stimulation this time. I didn’t need to use my own hand.

I was beginning to orgasm, to climax, just from penetration, from his beautiful cock ramming me over and over, from his hot body pressing down against mine, from his weight, his sensual musky smell….

I climaxed. It was wonderful. It felt like pleasure simply pouring up and through me. It felt as if it would never end.

“I’m cumming,” I said, moaning loudly, as if we were all alone on an island with no one to hear us. The reality was that the guests in the neighboring hotel rooms probably did hear me—it was simply that loud.

“I know,” said Colton, without a trace of humor in his voice. His voice was simply ringing with sex, with lust, with desire.

In a moment, he was cumming too. We climaxed like that, together, with me underneath him, pressed down into the mattress.

His powerful bucking stopped. He made one final movement, shoving his cock as far and as deep inside of me as he could, before freezing. I felt his cock spasming as it pumped load of cum after load of cum.

I was sure I could feel his cum flooding my insides…the thought of it seemed to increase my own pleasure.

I moaned again loudly.

Colton grunted as the last of his cum pumped from his mighty cock.

“Wow,” he said, rolling off me, and collapsing on the bed.

I lay where I was. The most intense portion of the orgasm was over, but I was still feeling the waves of pleasure washing through me.

Colton felt completely depleted. He looked over at the woman who he had just had sex with in his hotel room…he had picked her up at his disaster of an autograph press meeting…at a stripper bar no less. It was a good thing he had fired that disaster of a manager…he could find a better one himself. Maybe he would even be his own manager.

This woman had been completely wild in bed. She had squirmed and moaned in all the right ways that had turned him on like nothing else.

Unfortunately, for the life of him, Colton couldn’t even begin to remember her name.

He was still wickedly hung over from the night before. He had taken a whiskey at the club during the signing, thinking that it would help him recover. Unfortunately, it had just made him worse. For a couple minutes, he had actually felt drunk all over again.

Now, he still had a pounding headache, and his body felt like it was made of lead. He hoped his performance hadn’t been too bad…after all, it had seemed like the woman had enjoyed herself. He certainly had…he had needed that…needed some sexual release with a proper woman.

She had been so different than the young 18-year-old girl fans that normally flocked to him after the rodeo matches. She had a certain mature air about her, a sexual air, and of course she simply was more experienced and really seemed like she knew what she was doing.

Plus, there had been some kind of connection between them during the sex...it wasn’t something that had happened often, if ever, to Colton, so he wasn’t sure if he had just been imagining it or what. But he had felt something…it had been as if her body was communicating its desires directly to Colton…some invisible thread or magnetic force between them.

She seemed to be sleeping now. She was snoring ever so softly, and her naked breasts were rising and falling as she breathed in her sleep. She had fallen asleep on her side, with one arm around Colton.

She looked so cute, so beautiful, that Colton actually felt some kind of pain in his chest. This was a feeling that he hadn’t felt in a long time…not since he was a teenager and first in love.

“Shit,” said Colton, to himself. “This has already gotten serious, and I don’t even know her fucking name.”

He got up, slowly slinking out from under the woman’s beautiful arm, so as not to wake her up. Standing there, above her, he looked carefully at her body, examining every inch of her beauty. She wasn’t like the models on TV and magazines,
nor
like the porn stars. She was a real beauty…a natural, the kind of woman that made him think of having children…

He shook that thought out of his head. He didn’t have time for children, let alone a serious relationship. After all, he needed to think about his career. He needed to think about finding a new manager. He couldn’t afford to get caught up in this shit…in love…not right now.

He needed to clear his head. He stood for a moment in the bathroom mirror, looking at his naked body. He was covered in tattoos. Each meant something to him. Each was a story. Each was a representation of another time in his life, a representation of some obstacle he had overcome.

This was nothing but another obstacle. He had to overcome it just like all the others. He needed to do what he had to do. So he did what he always did: he buried his feelings deep down, locking them away deep inside himself.

Colton dressed quickly and silently, careful not to wake up the beautiful woman on the bed…the beautiful woman that he knew he felt something for…something so powerful that the only thing he knew to do was run away from it…run as far away and as fast as he could.

He gathered his things and left through the back entrance to the hotel. His truck was parked out back. He threw his duffel bag in the passenger’s seat.

On the flatbed portion of his pickup, his motorcycle was siting there, strapped in, just waiting to be ridden.

With a little bit of work, he undid the straps and lowered the motorcycle to the parking lot pavement with the aid of a moveable metal ramp.

It was a Triumph motorcycle. He had always preferred this brand. It looked something like an old fashioned Harley from the 1950s. It was the same model that Bob Dylan had favored in the 1960s.

The stock model of this bike was already fast. But Colton had paid good money to have it modified. Now, underneath the classic exterior, a wickedly fast modern engine was waiting to be used, waiting to propel the bike much faster than the traffic laws allowed.

Colton checked the bike. Even though he was a rodeo star, he knew quite a lot about motorcycles, and not just as a fan boy. He actually understood quite well how they worked.

All the parts were working…everything was in order.

He swung one blue-jeaned leg over the motorcycle.

He hit the ignition, kicking the bike to life.

The engine roared. He spun the accelerator handle. With the bike in neutral, the engine roared.

In a moment, he was off.

Colton roared out of the dark hotel parking lot, his single headlight illuminating a path in front of him.

He found himself speeding through the cool Texas night. He didn’t have on a motorcycle helmet or even a leather jacket. He just had his tight blue jeans and his western shirt, which was flapping wildly in the wind. But he didn’t care. He knew what he was doing, and he’d only ever had one serious accident. And he’d learned well from that what not to do.

He was out on the open road. Nothing could have felt better…if only he hadn’t been hung over.

There had been a time when Colton had needed to choose between his rodeo career and motorcycle racing. He had shown an early talent for both. It was a hard
call
now whether he had made the right decision…he was certainly ranked highly, as his former manager had just recently told him. But the life wasn’t what he had expected, to say the least.

He needed a new manager as soon as possible.

He pulled over to the side of the road, downshifting and braking.

Colton took out his cell phone. He checked the time. It was a little late. But not too late for a star like him, he thought, laughing to himself…
.how
could he be so full of himself?…but it was good to laugh at oneself, even for silly reasons, like a funny phrase that popped into one’s head.

He stopped laughing long enough to make a phone call. He still had an old flip phone for a cell phone…aside from
motorcycles,
he had never been one for fancy new gadgets. He just liked things that worked.

“John? Hey, this is Colton.”

“Colton! How are you, man? I just was looking at the rankings in the paper. Not bad…not bad at all, buddy. Not for an old Amarillo boy like you, eh?”

Colton laughed. “You got that right,” he said. “But we got to stay humble, right? Us kids from Amarillo didn’t have much when we were growing up, and we got to remember that.”

Colton and John were old school friends. Colton’s parents had never been around much. They had spent most of their time at the bars getting drunk together. John’s parents had been much more stable. They had owned a motorcycle shop, so Colton and John spent almost every afternoon after school there, slowly learning how to help out around the shop, and eventually how to repair motorcycles.

It was through John and his parents that Colton had gotten into rodeo. He and John had started riding their motorcycles to the local events, just to watch. Eventually they’d gotten involved in some amateur events. Initially, John had showed much more talent than Colton. Colton still thought John had more talent than he did…at least naturally speaking. But John had stopped his career right when he was starting to get really good, right when he could have turned pro…just to go to college. Now, he was a lawyer. He was still interested in the sport, but his bull riding days were long over.

“So what’s going on, Colton? I haven’t heard from you in a couple years now.”

“I’m sorry, man. It’s just…the whole rodeo thing has really…it’s been tough.”

“Doesn’t seem like it’d be so bad to be in first place,” said John. “I’m sure there are a lot of perks to the job. I mean the girls along, man, am I right? They must be flocking to you.”

“I’d be lying if I said they weren’t,” said Colton. “But honestly I wish I’d settled down like you, a wife and kids.”

“I wouldn’t say that so fast if I were you,” said John, lowering his voice, as if his wife was nearby and could hear him. “So what is the famous Colton doing anyway calling me at midnight? I’m dying to know what the favor is.”