Faye: Wow. You two are a problem
Let us be your problem for a weekend
Faye: You like pushing
When it’s worth it and you’re worth it
Faye: Hypothetically if I visited, when?
Come any time. We might have training but our nights are free
Dylan: We’ll take whatever you give us
Faye: I’ll talk to Agent Pederson. If he doesn’t freak out and can set it up without turning it into a circus, I’ll come down
Tell him you need a break and want to go see your favorite baseball players
Faye: I do need a break, but I’m not telling them the reason I need one is because I can’t stop thinking about you two
Dylan: Coward
Faye: Shut up
You don’t owe anyone details. Just tell them you’re going and book a flight
Faye: Fine. Send me a hotel that doesn’t look shady
There’s a resort near the complex. Players use it when their families visit
Dylan: You’re really doing this?
Faye: I’m checking dates. Calm down
You’re not backing out
Faye: Don’t get cocky. I’m still not sure I can make this work, but if this clears, I’ll text you my details
Dylan: Can’t wait to see you, Princess
Can’t wait to taste you
The thread went quiet. I let my phone fall onto my chest and stared at the ceiling for a second, thinking about burying my face between her thighs while she sucked Dylan’s dick. That thought was enough to make me slide my boxers down and fist my aching cock until I came all over my stomach.
The following Friday night,the complex lights were still on behind me as I crossed the lot to my 4Runner. Dylan and I had shipped our vehicles from California because being at camp for three months without one would have sucked.
Practice had gone on long enough that my legs felt heavy and my back was tight, but my brain was buzzing too hard to care. Faye’s text sat at the top of our thread.
Landed. Checking in now
By the time I reached my vehicle, Dylan stood leaning against my hood, his hair still damp from his shower, his phone in his hand.
“Took you long enough,” he muttered, climbing into the passenger seat.
“You were early,” I answered, dropping into the driver’s seat. “You good going straight there?”
“Fuck, yeah.”
The resort was about a ten-minute drive. I pulled into the lot, found a spot near the entrance, and killed the engine. Palm treeslined the walkway, as we headed for the doors, my phone buzzed again:
