15: Gage.
She walks out of the bedroom and I see her immediately,
because I’ve been staring at the door for twenty minutes, waiting. Waiting for her. Trying to breathe without her long enough to let her take a shower and put on some clothes. It’s not going well. Every time she’s not in my arms, every second I‘ m not consumed by her, all I can think of is losing her. How the lies I told to my teammates are going to come back to haunt
- me. It’s only a matter of time. After the championship tonight, I
have to come clean. I have to clarify to each and every one of
them that I’m not dating Stella for my image. I’m with her
because she’s my fucking life.
Now that I’ve spent the last two days giving her my cock, the sharpest parts of my jealousy are gone. She’s mine. She’s mine. I’ve made her say it a thousand times. And I know I’ll spend the rest of my life strangled by possessiveness for her, but right now, in this moment, that ugly emotion is at rest. There’s only the love and peace she blesses me with.
The lust is there, too
Oh Christ, is it ever there.
Never goes away.
I’ve banged her in the shower, on the couch, on the floor, the
- Gage
kitchen table, in my bed and several times against the wall, but every time I come inside of her, I only get hungrier. I want her again, again, again. Even now, when we have five minutes before we have to leave for the field, I’m considering bending her over in that little jean skirt, tights and sandals. She’ll welcome my cock eagerly, too, won’t she? She’s so goddamn horny, I find myself mounted in the middle of the night, her pussy dragging up and down my swelling cock, those little mewling noises wrecking my chest, hardening me to steel.
I push off the couch and advance on her, watching the black of her pupils bleed wide. “You wearing a skirt to my game?”
She nods. “And stockings.”
“Stockings,” I repeat, gripping my cock through my mesh shorts. “Those don’t go all the way up to your pussy?”
“No.” Her knees inch together. “Almost.”
I back her into the wall, my composure already waning. “What
does ‘almost‘ mean?”
Her answer doesn’t come quickly enough, so I jerk the skirt up to her hips and…Jesus. My cock is at full attention now. She’s got on these stockings that stop two inches from her panties, leaving smooth sections of her thighs naked, save the bite
marks I left behind.
I drag a hand down my open mouth. “You think I’ll be able to
15: Gage
concentrate on the field with you in the stands dressed like a
dick tease?”
“I’m wearing the stockings to stay warm.”
“Go put on pants, please.”
“You ripped the buttons off my last pair,” she whispers.
Fuck. She has me there. I have got to take her shopping soon. I keep meaning to bring her to the mall to buy new underwear,
new clothes and shoes, but despite my best intentions, she
keeps ending up on her back beneath me, sweat coating our
bodies.
Before I can apologize to her for being a bad boyfriend, there is
a knock at my door.
It’s the offensive coordinator, here to drive me to the game. He‘
s been doing it since my freshman year, unwilling to leave my
arrival at the field to chance. There are voices in the hall. A
whole team of them. A trainer to make sure I’m at full strength,
probably preparing to give me a B12 shot. The quarterback
coach. School administrators who want the bragging rights of
saying they drove with me to the game.
And yeah, I want to win tonight.
I love winning. I love the game.
15: Gage.
But there is nothing, nothing more important than the girl in
front of me.
Turning my head, I shout over my shoulder at the door. “Coach.”
“Yeah, Gage. Got the van downstairs, ready to go. You ready to kick some ass tonight, man?”
“Damn right.” I pin my girlfriend with a look. “But I’m going to need a security team to stay with Stella while I’m playing.”
There’s a drawn–out silence. “A whole team?”
“That’s what I said.” My pulse is starting to pound, my balls tightening like knots in my shorts. Jesus. No way I can play tonight without fucking her one more time. At least. “I won’t be able to concentrate until she’s guarded. Heavily. If she’s not safe, I don’t play.”
Pressing my forehead against hers, she whimpers, as if she knows exactly what I’m thinking and I’m proven correct when she trails a finger down my cock through the thin material of my shorts. And that innocent touch burns me alive. My hands move of their own volition, ripping the panties down to her ankles. She’s barely managed to kick them away before I’m lifting her up, slamming her back into the wall, shoving down the waistband of my shorts to free my dick. Panting, panting, panting her name.
“Take my cock, you horny fucking angel.” I ram deep, slapping a
15; Gage.
hand over her mouth to muffle the scream, barely managing to keep my own roar at bay. Perfection. She is tight, soaking wet perfection. “Take it like a good little girl,” I growl in her ear. “Cover it in that sweet fucking come, then get on your knees and lick it off for Daddy.”
I’m not sure where that word comes from.
I’m not sure why it feels right and inevitable.
I only know she comes like a fucking tidal wave as soon as I say
- it. Her eyes go wide over my hand she clenches down on me,
tighter than she’s ever clenched before. So goddamn tight that I
forgot about the men standing in the hallway. My hand falls
away from her mouth and I lose my mind. I’m in a frenzy,
pounding her seizing cunt into the wall, grinding on it with long,
shuddering moans, reveling in the way her thighs tremble
around me, the way she keeps her eyes trained on me even
when she’s mid–orgasm.
“Say it, Stella,” I demand. “Obliterate me.”
“I love my Daddy,” she whispers, tremulously, setting herself off
again.
The air leaves me in a massive rush.
I drive her up against the wall one final time, grip that perky ass
and let go. Let go with more abandon than ever before. This is what I’ve been chasing with her without knowing it. Full
15: Gage.
authority. A relationship that is so airtight, it cannot be severed or questioned. I’m not some kind of sicko who wants to imagine her as my stepdaughter or something, I just want to be the only man in her life. I want to block out the fucking sun. I want to be where she runs for reassurance and pleasure and safety and confidence. I’m her Daddy. That’s it. That’s me.
We’re gasping for oxygen, holding on to each other like we’ve
just been through battle. I’m covering her face and hair in
kisses, running my hands over every inch of her skin. I’ve left
red abrasions on her inner thighs that will be visible tonight,
since she’s wearing a skirt. Good. But it’s not enough. Nothing
will ever be enough for my girl.
After I fix our clothing, I scoop her still–shaking body up into my
arms and enter the bedroom, setting her carefully down on the top of my dresser. I open the top drawer and take out my championship ring from last year and a gold chain one of the coaches gave me as a gift. Slipping the ring onto the chain, I fasten it around her neck where it will be easy to spot. Everyone on campus must know she’s my girl at this point, but the ring will let people know we’re deadly serious.
“Just a placeholder until I can put a real one on your finger,” I rasp, kissing her mouth.
She blinks up at me, as if stunned.
“You can’t be surprised.” I slant my mouth over hers, gathering
15: Gage.
as much of her taste as humanly possible. “You know I’m
obsessed with you. You know I can’t breathe without you. I would have made you my wife that first night. Eagerly. You’re mine, Stella. As far as you’re concerned, I’m already your husband and Daddy. The ring will be a formality.” I lean back and look at her, madness permeating my mind at the possibility that we’re not on the same page. “You will marry me, Stella.”
“Of course I will,” she says, voice catching, and the madness
recedes, replaced with joy.
My mouth finds hers again, kissing her hungrily. When she slips
her tongue into my mouth, her little fists curling in the front of
my shirt, my cock starts to lengthen and swell again. We’re still
wet with each other’s come. That slipperiness will help me fit
easier than usual into her tight cunt. One more time. Just one
more time.
At the front of the apartment, pounding has resumed on the
door.
“Gage,” calls the offensive coordinator. “We have a security team waiting downstairs, especially for your girlfriend-”
“Wife!” I shout back.
He clears his throat. “I…sorry. We weren’t aware.” A beat
passes. “There is a full security detail here to escort Stella to the game. We’ve arranged for her to sit in the family box, instead of
15: Gage.
the stands. Does that work for you?”
Relief hits me and I stroke her hair, rub my thumb across her
bottom lip. “Yes.”
That’s good. I don’t want her in the stands.
She needs to stay as far from other students and players‘ girlfriends as possible. Until I can clear up my lie. Until I can
make everything right, I don’t want her to overhear whisperings
of the garbage I fed my team out of jealousy. If she was made
aware I said those disgusting words, I would die. I would drop dead from anguish.
“Stay in the box, honey, okay? Stay where it’s safe until I come
get you after the game.”
Her smile is purer than sunshine. “You don’t worry about me.
Focus on the game.” She kisses my lips softly and a wrench lodges in my throat. “I love you and I’ll be fine.”
“I love you, too, baby.”
Still, all the way to the field, there is a weight of dread pressing
down on my chest.
Please let me fix this in time.
16: Stella.
