Release Day: Feb. 19th
“You like it like this, baby?” The petite blond I’d picked up the night before at the bar was ready to fuck the minute she woke up that morning. Normally I’d be all for it, but my dreams the night before had me a little off.
“That’s good. Just roll your hips, girl. Fuck me harder.” I squeezed her ass as I laid back in my bed. Her reverse cowgirl position should have lit me on fire, and it normally did, but she was too thin, too small. I liked thick thighs and a lot of ass on my girls.
Because of Terra. I pushed the thought away and lifted my hips to fuck the little minx harder. Her ass didn’t even bounce. Shit.
Her moans filled the air as I glanced down to watch her pussy suck at my thick shaft. I pressed my thumb to her ass and closed my eyes, letting myself go back to a time where being turned on was easy, a time when not giving in was fucking hard.
I missed it beyond belief. But then again, I’d become what the public wanted me to become. A playboy pitcher for Seattle with a million women chasing him and none of them deep enough to care about anything more than Benjamin’s and dick. Good thing I loved baseball and Washington State so fucking much.
It was the life most players would dream of. Fucking good for them.
“I’m gonna come,” she grunted out and gripped my thighs, digging her nails into my flesh.
I gritted my teeth and opened my eyes, reaching out and taking hold of her narrow hips. Why the fuck did I end up with someone like her the night before? Right… too many beers and a TV screen showing the owner’s box at the fucking Oakland game.
Terra couldn’t have been more beautiful as she stood there, her lips in a tight line, her dark red hair pulled in a tight bun. I groaned at the thought of her and rolled the girl bobbing on my cock over on the bed. I pressed my hand to her back and mounted her, fucking hard and fast as my heart raced. Was my girl with someone now? Rumors had gone around that she was dating Paul Thompson, the shortstop for Oakland, but I doubted that shit. He was a bastard and a half, and everyone knew it. Just the thought of him touching Terra had me gripping the girl beneath me a little too roughly. To think he played and she GM’d my rival team left me ill.
“Danny. Too much,” she mumbled.
“Sorry.” I tried to pull myself back to the present, but it was impossible. Seeing Terra on TV almost undid me. I rolled my hips and tried to finish the girl off beneath me. Her asshole winked at me as she came hard, wetting me and the bed beneath me. Normally it would have been fucking hot, but not that morning. I was a bit disgusted with myself.
“Fuck,” she screamed and gripped the sheets, bucking against me.
I let her finish and pulled out, moving off the bed. “Thanks for last night. And this morning.” I pulled the condom off and walked to the bathroom, ignoring her bitching behind me. I wasn’t a bad guy, or I didn’t think I was.
Fuck me. Maybe I was the worst, but I couldn’t muster the desire to give a damn. The little blond had been a cock-tease all night, and after losing my will to push her away for the hundredth time, I finally gave in.
After closing the door behind me, I started up the water and turned on the radio I had built into the large three person shower. It was built with the idea of having a ménage every Friday night, but I’d quickly grown tired of that shit. Where I loved sex, it was getting old. Not having any emotion to it was draining me. Eight years of being a slut for Major League Baseball. It was the persona they expected and earned up more media points than anyone might imagine.
Sadly enough, it left me cold, hard, and alone.
I moved into the hot spray and let my thoughts go back to the night before. My cock jerked back up, twitching for attention. My girl had grown colder, more mature, and less spontaneous from what I knew. I never asked about her, but her brother and father gave up bits of information in passing conversations where she was mentioned.
A laugh bubbled out of me as I reached for the soap. There was no way in hell her father, Martin, was ever going to let me near Terra. We’d dated in high school and he’d hated me then. Now that I was one of the players on his team? He loved me to death but would kill me if anything became of us.
I gripped my dick and jerked on the tip, pinching hard and bringing a few moans out of myself. I wanted to punish myself for fucking things up with her all those years ago, but it was stupid. Eight years and I was still thinking about her. I craved her virginity like nothing else in my life.
It was sick, but the idea of taking her first wouldn’t leave me.
“She’s probably already fucked a million guys. Idiot.” I turned and pressed my forearm to the shower wall as I fucked myself hard and fast. My eyes fluttered closed and I imagined her in the shower with me, her body slick with water and soap, her ass huge and hips thick like honey.
My balls tightened as every wicked fantasy I had came roaring to life. Her alabaster skin went on for miles and her dark red hair was wet and splayed out across her back.
“Fuck, I love you, girl.” I slowed my thrusts and dove deeper into the image of my one and only spread out before me. Why the hell had I ever denied her back then? She wanted me to take her, to open her up and move her from being a girl to a woman.
I wanted to wait, to spend our wedding night together wrapped up and figuring things out together, but it hadn’t turned out that way.
Forcing myself away from the painful memories that quickly followed me losing her, I dove back into a fantasy I’d had since the day we met. Her long legs wrapped around me, her body bare as she clung to me, begging for me to own her.
I nodded as my body reacted violently to her cries in my head. Her heavy tits bouncing, her eyes focused on me, her body milking the fuck out of mine. A moan left me as I tensed and covered the shower wall with my release.
“Terra. Terra. Terra. Fuck, baby.” I pressed my head against the shower wall as the room spun. I needed her so goddamn bad, and I always had. After years of ignoring her on TV and avoiding her when our two teams played against each other, I was ready for another chance. Another encounter.
She didn’t like the virginal sweet guy I tried to be back in high school, which was good. That fucker was lost to the past.
The guy I was now wouldn’t relent until I had her crying for more, and she would.
I had no doubt.
“About damn time, Danny. Shit. You trying to get yourself fined?” Jeremy glanced up from the bench in the bullpen as I walked in. The younger pitcher was one of my favorite guys on the team and felt like the younger brother I’d always wanted. He needed a good kick in the balls from time to time, and I enjoyed that part of our relationship more than I probably should.
“Fuck you too, Denning.” I dropped down beside him and glanced up to see Styles warming up. He’d be pitching that night, and I was all about cheering him on. The last game I’d pitched, something had popped in my right arm, forcing me to come out of the game. The media had a fucking field day with it and were still asking if I was a goner. Assholes.
“Speaking of fucking. What happened with that cute little blond that carried your big hairy ass out of the bar last night?” The kid smiled and wagged his eyebrows. He was twice the player I was… in the bedroom, not on the field.
“She was too thin.” I shrugged and pressed my forearms to my thighs as I took in the sights around me. I’d loved baseball since I was a kid, and my adoration only seemed to grow over the years. There was something right about it, like an old tradition you did with your family on the holidays and weekends.
“Too thin? She looked about average.” He snorted.
“Then you pick her up tonight. I’m sure she’s going to be on the prowl again. I like a girl with meat on her bones.” I licked at the corner of my mouth and lifted my eyebrows. “It’s a big fucking turn on to watch her body bounce and tense as I fuck her. You wouldn’t know anything about that, limp dick.”
“McAdams.” Our head pitching coach, Rick Burns moved in front of me. His eyes narrowed as he stared at me down the long line of his pointed-ass nose. “You’re late.”
“Nope.” I stood up and slipped my hands into my back pockets, trying hard to hold back my desire to pop him in the face. That wouldn’t be good for the old career. “I was one minute early.”
“Early is when you get here before you’re supposed to.” He took a step closer, leaving our noses almost touching. “Don’t do it again. We don’t need your ass out there if you’re not going to respect the team rules. Got it, hotshot?”
I clenched my jaw, hating how the old man disrespected me above everyone else. It was like the fucker had it out for me no matter what the hell I did wrong or right. “Yes, Sir, Mr. Burns.”
“Good.” He stood there a moment longer, staring me down. No fucking way I was backing up. We’d been at each other’s throats for six years since he started with the team. I didn’t see that shit changing anytime soon.
“Fuck.” One of the other guys growled beside us, taking our attention away from each other.
“What’s up?” Rick turned, his voice softening immediately.
It was all I could do not to roll my fucking eyes. Jeremy got up from the bench and moved to the gate, reaching up and gripping it. “Holy shit. Looks like Styles is hurt.”
I moved around everyone with Rick in tow. Our starting pitcher for the night was already walking off the field with his arm limp as a noodle. “What happened?”
One of the other guys beside me shook his head. “He threw that pitch and must have fucked something up. You know he went to a boxing contest earlier this week. I bet he dicked up his shoulder.”
“Idiot!” Rick yelled and pointed to Jeremy. “You’re up, kid. We’ll put you in for a little while and pull you out if we need to.”
I turned to Jeremy as everyone went back to doing their shit. “Awesome. Get out there and show these fuckers what you’re made of.” I gripped his shoulders and squeezed. “Damn, dude. What have you been drinking? Muscle milk? You feel thick.”
“Back off.” He pulled back, his voice a little more hostile than I was used to. “I’ve been putting serious hours in the gym. Fuck. I hate going in before the seventh.”
“You got this. Just show the heat.” I moved back to my seat and dropped down. Something was off with Jeremy, but maybe it was the pressure of going out too early. He was a relief pitcher, which usually meant he only had to wrap up a game and shut it down.
“Let’s go, Denning. Quick warm up and then your ugly ass is on the mound.” Rick pointed to Jeremy and walked to the other end of the pen.
I smiled and leaned back. Jeremy would be fine, and we’d win the game hands down. We always beat the team we were playing tonight. Fuck, everyone did.