Red:Ash . . .
Me:Do it. Now.
Red:Okay
Me:Fuck, I’m so fucking hard for you Red
Me:Are you wet?
Red:Yes
My eyes had closed as I pumped my dick, thinking of her. The way she tasted, the little sighing noise she made right before she came, the way her whole body arched into her orgasm. My hand was a blur under the sheet.
Red:I’m so close
Me:Keep rubbing that clit. I’m going to come so fucking hard for you
Red:Do it, spill it as you think of me
Thank fuck I was alone, my groan was loud as I came all over my hand and my stomach.
Fuck, that was hot.
Me:Did you come?
Red:Yeah . . .
Red:I’m licking my fingers clean
Jay-sus.I huffed out loud at the image.
Fuck me, I needed to fuck her. That was sexy as hell. My head fell back onto the pillows as I dropped the phone, done with it for now, wondering how drunk she was. Either way, she was going to freak out in the morning. Catching my breath, I got out of bed to clean myself. I hesitated after I walked away from the bed, and turning back, I reached for the phone.
Me:Don’t regret this when you’re sober
Red:I won’t
“Ash!” Gray called out, causing me to jump like a guilty kid that’s just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Are you shitting your pants?”
“No!” I called back as I willed my dick to calm down.
“Well, if you’re not, get out here, we need you.”
“’Kay.” I waited until I heard him leave the bathroom, and I looked down at my pants and myproblem. I could not take care of this, fucking Red and her fucking messages. Taking a deep breath, I willed myself not to think of anything and remind myself where I was. Jesus, I was in a locker room bathroom stall before one of the biggest games of the season, and my head wasn’t on the game. Irritation at myself shifted my focus from my dick and the redhead responsible, and as I flushed the toilet, I regained my focus on the important things.
Like football.
Not some hot piece of ass who sexted when she was hammered.
* * *
It was the third quarter, and we were tied ten-ten. Jett was ready to implode, I could tell, but I didn’t have it in me to keep him cool. Gray was in his jersey and chinos, talking in his brother’s ear. He would have been doing that had he been playing. They were always seated together, while I usually satwith the offensive line. At the moment, I was pacing back and forth, watching Dustin, the wide receiver for ’Bama, making a run right past our defensive lineman.
“Fucking hell, Granger, fucking take himout!” I screamed from the sidelines.
“Language, Santo!” Coach muttered as he came and stood beside me. “That’s a damn good receiver.”
“He can be caught,” I retorted angrily. “We just need to read the offense better.”
