he’d been wearing, along with his shirt, dropped with a whoosh to the ground beside me. “When I told you I was going for a run this morning, I dropped everything off.”
“Very sneaky of you.”
“Mm-hmm. Okay, you ready to turn around yet?”
“Yep. Count of three?”
On the three, we both turned around, my eyes immediately zooming to the eggplant Sam’s football pants were doing an absolute shit job of constraining.
Sam, in return, stared at me, then shook his head. “Goddamn, I…” He paused, then took a step back and looked me slowly up and down. “I kinda had a picture in my head of how you’d look, but wow.”
Warmth spread over my cheeks. The good kind, though, that was more desire than self-consciousness. I stood still as Sam walked in a circle around me and stopped in front of me again.
I ran a finger along his waistband and traced along the rigid outline of his cock. “Now you know a fraction of what it was like watching you on the field.” Or doing anything remotely athletic, really. Even the dingiest sweatpants were elevated to erotic art on Sam. “Thank goodness we didn’t get together until senior year.”
“Technically…”
“Good point. Maybe that was what was wrong with me until senior year. No one could hold a candle to our tryst outside Kappa.”
“That neither of us could remember.”
“Shhh.” I gave him a little squeeze that made him curse. “So, being the smaller one, does that mean I’m the quarterback?”
“God yes. Which means you call the plays.” Sam cursed again as I gave him a little squeeze. “Fuck, I think I’m already halfway to orgasm,” he said with a sigh and then skimmed his hands over my ass.
I could tell this was going to go on our sexual replays and greatest-hits list and would no doubt be recorded for our OnlyFans at some point. But I was glad not to have to think about cameras today, because Sam coming undone before my eyes over me wearing football tights was enough to wreck me.
“First play,” I started but didn’t get the rest out before Sam kissed me, hard and aggressive. He backed us toward one of the bleacher supports until my spine met the metal, his arms coming up on either side to cling to the framing as his hips rolled and his hard cock rubbed insistently against mine.
“Fuck.” I let out an undignified whimper at the friction and pushed up his football jersey, finding his nipples already pebbled from the cold. He loved when I played with them.
Sam licked the side of my neck, my throat, and sucked on my earlobe, every confident pass of his tongue breaking me out in shivers. Three years and he knew every single spot on my body, which combinations of hands and mouth would have me writhing and which he could use to draw me out, and I knew the same for him. That kind of intimacy was the most powerful aphrodisiac I’d ever experienced, and I was an absolute slave to it as much as Sam was. When I thought about all my bold talk senior year about how I’d just wanted to get laid, I realized Sam had been right back then. I hadn’t just wanted to get laid. I’d wanted to feel known and understood and loved inside out the way Sam made me feel.
I tilted my head to the side, giving him full access, and he took the invitation, hot mouth stitching fiery kisses over my cool skin. “I interrupted you. I’m sorry,” he muttered. “Got too excited. Wanna try again? What’s the first play you’re gonna call? Where do you want me?”
“On your knees,” I whispered and had another one of those moments of utter blissed-out wonder when Sam dropped down immediately. Even on his knees he was big, rising well above my waist, and when he gazed up at me while rubbing his chin over the fabric covering my erection, I swallowed against the pleasure saturating my body. It took me a moment to get the words out coherently. “Suck me.”
Keeping his gaze pinned to mine, he lowered the waistband on my tights until just the head of my cock peeked out, trapped for the torment he unleashed on my crown by sucking and licking around it. I was panting and clinging to the post above my head in seconds.
“I couldn’t stop looking at you during the game,” he said, inching my pants a little lower, and I thought about how our gazes