I grab the top of the wooden frame and lift to my feet. Just enough to swivel my hips over his mushroom tip before swallowing him whole.
“Fuck!” Antonio’s grip tightens. He bites my nipple.
“Ahh!”
Sex with him has been a discovery of self. I’ve discovered that I, Miriam Beckford, the second of her house, love intercourse. I made up for five years in the almost two weeks our relationship turned physical. The sensation of his dick, how it stretches my walls and hits spots no toy can activate, brings out a side of me I never knew existed. I love being completely naked, feeding my arousal to him like an elixir, and riding him until his toes curl.
We were already in tune with each other, but this takes us to the clouds. Our hearts beat in sync every time our bodies become one.
My hands fly to Antonio’s shoulders as the pressure of another orgasm explodes.
“Uhh!”
“Gah—Doe!” He comes in three rapid thrusts. Every muscle in his stomach coils at his release.
I giggle through gasps of air. “Why are you sweating? I did all the work.”
“That last part was all me.”
“Mister Three Seconds.” I squeal at the pinch to my nipples.
“It takes Jedi concentration to not shoot into this sweet pussy, Doe.” His lips press to my collarbone. “I’ve never felt this before, baby.”
We kiss until it’s time for him to go to the field with the team. I hop in the shower—well, walk, with fatigued thighs from mounting a rugby player—and get ready for the home opener.
Folding chairs line the manicured pitch under a bright blue sky. The weather is deceptively cool, but not cold enough for a full winter coat for Buffalo natives and transplants alike.
I text Marcela my location and adjust my knitted hat to keep my curls from blowing away with the wind. There may still be a chill in the air, but you wouldn’t know it looking at the Steel in their short-sleeved shirts and shorter shorts.
“They better win on the strength of home-field advantage.” Marcela tightens her jacket and reaches down to hug me. “Hey, girl. This me?” She points to the empty chair next to mine.
I nod. “Careful.”
“Eep!”
“It rocks.”
Her arms and legs flail, but she catches herself and eases into the concept of a gliding folding chair. “Where did you get this?”
“Antonio bought them.”
His eyes land on me from across the field. He winks and runs off with Shins. A small smile plays on my lips at the all-black uniform molded to every inch of muscle. His thighs are out, his back is corded, and his biceps are on full display.
“Somebody is glowing,” Marcela teases. “Would this have anything to do with your disappearance?”
“I did not disappear.” I push up my glasses and swallow my tongue as the Steel warm up. “I was occupied.”
Tied up.
Facedown.
In the air.
Against the wall.
Over a sofa arm.
Bent on the steps.
