I forgot all about Jace and Brock while chatting with him, and then the game began. The University of Tennessee wasn’t just a larger school—their athletes were significantly bigger than ours, too. Not surprising since they had better recruiting than us.
But what our team lacked in size, they made up for in spirit. They fought and scrambled on every possession, passing the ball around and slowing down the game. At halftime, we were only losing by one point.
I made myself another wine and nibbled on a little appetizer sandwich from the buffet. I was chewing the last bite when my phone dinged again.
Jace: Come visit us. I promise we’re more fun than those other stuffy professors.
Me: Are you calling me stuffy?
Jace: They’re the stuffy ones. You’re delightful. Which is why we’re inviting you and not them.
Jace: We’re in the fifth row from the floor, about seven people deep.
I gazed around the suite. Professor Galloway was holding court with three others, eagerly explaining some criminology theory that he was using in his classroom. Apparently he was long-winded after two glasses of wine.
While he was occupied, I slipped out of the suite and took the escalator back down to the main level. I had to fight through crowds of people getting food or using the bathroom during halftime, but eventually I made it to the other side of the arena.The student section was only half full during the break, so I was able to spot Jace and Brock without any trouble.
“Look who it is!” Jace said with a big smile. “My favorite professor.”
“It was way too stuffy up there in the suite,” I told them.
“Looks like it.” Brock nodded at my glass of wine.
“Shit. Sorry.” I threw the glass back and finished it in three long gulps, which drew a few cheers from the students around me.
“I’ll get us some proper beers,” Jace said, sliding past me to leave. He gingerly placed his hand on my arm in passing, but otherwise was perfectly respectful.
Brock was staring at me when I turned back around. “What?” I asked.
“I thought you were trying to be good while on campus,” he said.
“We’re on the edge of campus,” I said. “Besides, we’re just watching a basketball game. Nothing else.”
He raised a challenging eyebrow, but didn’t say anything.
Jace returned with fresh beers right as the second half began. I sipped the cold alcohol and sighed happily as the students began cheering and heckling the other team.Thiswas how college sports were meant to be watched.
As spectators crammed back into the student section, we had to squeeze closer and closer. Eventually, I had towering students on all sides of me, screaming and gesturing at the game without noticing me at all.
Which meant it wasn’t suspicious that Jace and Brock were pressed tightly on either side of me.
At first, Jace’s fingertips lightly grazed my ass. Tucking into my back pocket and giving a little tug to let me know he wasthere. Then he was sliding his entire hand down my pocket and squeezing my ass.
The beer tasted great, and the crowd gave us privacy, and I was feelinggreat.
Brock’s shoulder brushed against mine, but he didn’t make any other moves. Eventually, I leaned a little closer, allowing my hand to hang down by his crotch. Brushing my knuckles against the front of his jeans. He soon hardened, and I allowed my fingertips to glide up and down his hard length.
Around us, the roar of the crowd and the back-and-forth of the game shielded us from sight.
I leaned forward, sticking my ass out to the side to grind against Jace while my fingers tightened around Brock. Both of them groaned, but then their pleasured sounds were carried away by the cheers of the crowd. We had just taken the lead.
But the three of us didn’t care.
As the game wound down, we continued our private little party. Brock’s hand dove between my legs and he began rubbing me through my jeans. Everything felt so good, yet so inadequate at the same time.
Brock put his mouth right next to my ear and whispered, “If you keep going, I’m…”
Suddenly everyone was screaming and jumping up and down. We turned our attention to the game: our star player, Joshua Davenport, had stolen the ball from Tennessee and was running down the court. We were losing by two points, and there were only a few seconds left.
