The Jock by J.L. Beck Page 0,38

unbutton my pants.

Crystal doesn’t object, whimper, or say a word. She licks her bee-stung lips and drops down to her knees. She knows the score, which is why she’s my favorite chick to sleep with. She never brags, and never asks for more than I can give her, which is generally an orgasm and a pat on her back. Tugging my cock free, I look down at Crystal, but her image is replaced in my mind with Blair. Her smiling beneath me while I plow into her body over and over again. The images keep coming, forming a tornado in my mind, and I know that I can’t do this.

Which really fucking sucks because my cock is rock hard and my balls ache.

“Leave,” I order, scrubbing a hand down my face while I tug my pants back up with my other hand.

“Leave? We haven’t even started yet?” Crystal sounds as confused as I feel, and I can’t blame her for not understanding. None of this makes sense to me.

“I know, but I don’t want you. Leave. Please.” I add at the end just needing her out. With a huff, she pushes off the floor and saunters to the door.

“Next time you want to fuck or need to blow off steam, call someone else,” she growls as she opens the door and slams it shut, making the walls rattle.

Sagging back onto my bed, I stare up at the ceiling. Blair has fucked me up. She’s gotten under my skin, in my head, and now she’s messing with my sex life. I can’t even get a blow job without picturing her on her knees before me.

My cock aches, and I know if I’m going to get off, it’s going to be with my own hand. Shaking my head and gritting my teeth, I push away the fact that I feel like a teenage boy wanking off for the first time. Letting my eyes fall closed, I try and think of anything but Blair, but all I see are bright blue eyes and a smile that melts my fucking heart.

I start to stroke myself, and the images become something else.

Blair is beneath me now, withering, my hand is between her creamy thighs, fingering her.

“More, Cage, I need more. I want you to fuck me,” she begs.

Another image replaces the last, and in this one, she’s on top of me, riding me. I roll her nipples between two fingers, and her head tips back, her dark hair cascading down her back. Through hooded eyes, I watch as she uses me, rolling her hips and bouncing up and down.

“So good, so good. I’m… I’m coming, Cage. Come with me. Fill me up with your come. Come inside me,” she whimpers, and I stroke myself faster, squeezing my length, wanting to fulfill her wish even though it’s all in my fucking head.

I envision my hand as her channel, warm and tight and made perfectly for me, I fuck myself. Up and down, up and down, I stroke taking me further and further away from reality.

“Fuck,” I grit through my teeth, feeling the pleasurable zing in my aching balls. I’m going to explode any second now.

Behind my lids, sex with Blair plays out, and all I can do is watch, the air in my lungs stills, and my toes curl in my shoes.

“Take me, Cage, make me yours.”

Those words set me off, and just like that, I erupt. Deflating into the mattress, spurts of creamy white come shoot from my cock and land on my abs. Aftershocks of what I know may never be a reality rip through me, pleasure like I’ve never felt before leaves me immobile, and I sigh loudly, trying to catch my breath.

I can’t believe I just beat off to the thought of taking Blair’s virginity. There has to be something wrong with me.

Yeah, you want her, you idiot.

Staring down at the ropes of come, I know what I’ve got to do. I’m going to win that bet. Boyfriend or not, I want Blair on my cock. I want her virginity. I want her fucking smiles. I want every single thing that has to do with her.

I’ll possess her, and then I’ll set her free. I’ll make her wish she never took the job to tutor me, or ever poured that beer on my head.

13

Blair

I feel terrible about skipping out on Cage the way I did yesterday. In a hurry to leave, I forgot to grab my bag. I texted him a few