The Balled And The Beautiful: A College Sports Romance Story Read online

  “What kind of tea do you like?” I shouted from the kitchen.

  “What do you have?” he asked.

  “Um, like a lot. You should come in here and look,” I said.

  When he entered my cramped kitchen, I became aware of how close together we were; I could feel butterflies in my stomach, as I smelled his sweet scent. He smelled like musk and that kind of sweat that smells good when you’re attracted to the person. I could feel the pheromones as I inhaled his sweet man scent.

  He was going through my tea drawer, picking up boxes, turning them over. I watched him as he did this, looking at his strong forearms and how thick the veins were. I liked his large boney hands; I had never quite noticed them before now.

  “This looks good,” he said, holding up an Earl Grey tea.

  “That’s my favorite,” I said smiling. Our bodies were close as he handed me the box. My heart skipped a beat as my fingers brushed against his.

  We sat back down on the couch, hovering over our steaming tea and chatting idly about school, which segued to talking about life in general. The hours passed by like minutes. We were both enjoying ourselves quite a bit as we discovered that we had a lot in common.

  If I hadn’t been before now, I was really beginning to warm up to him. As time went on, we naturally began sliding closer and closer to each other on the couch. Soon we exchanged our teacups for wine glasses as the night continued.

  I felt confused and conflicted. On one hand, I really wasn’t sure what I was doing with the captain of the football team; he was arrogant and wealthy, and it just felt like we were from different worlds. On the other hand, I couldn’t ignore how attracted I was to him, especially when the red wine started to take its effect on me. Were we so different after all?

  I could sense that Brad was attracted to me, too, or at least I suspected it, but I wasn’t sure if I was just projecting. But he must have been inching closer to me for a reason...

  We were talking about Picasso of all things, when I began to become passionate about the conversation. I was leaning towards him, talking loudly and quickly about Picasso’s artwork. Brad was just smiling, enjoying my passion for the subject. As a history major, he was also enthusiastic about art and its history.

  “What?” I said suddenly when I noticed him smiling strangely at me.

  “What what?” Brad replied.

  “I don’t know, you’re just like… smiling at me weird,” I said, the wine loosening my boundaries.

  “Oh, I just think it’s really cool how passionate you are about art,” he said. I blushed as my heart beat faster. It was that word- “passionate.”

  “Oh,” I said. I reflexively looked down because I was embarrassed, but Brad touched my chin, lifting my gaze back to meet his.

  “It’s good,” he said, comforting me. I just smiled, while trying not to.

  “Thanks,” I said, giggling softly.

  “You’re not like other girls I’ve met…” Brad said, trailing off. This just made me blush; I could feel how my face must have been flushed and pink in the cheeks. I wasn’t sure how to reply, but I didn’t have to. Brad leaned in close to my face. My heart was beating fast. This is… wow, I thought to myself as I tilted my head to the side.

  Our wine tinted lips met gently for a soft moment. We both pulled away and looked at each other giggling a little.

  “Wow,” I said, “I wasn’t… really expecting that.”

  “Neither was I, but I like you…” said Brad.

  Chapter 3

  I was flattered when he told me that he liked me. But I was unsure of what to make of it. But then, I thought about how my goal for this semester was to enjoy college and have fun. Fuck it, if there’s a time to be irresponsible, it’s now, I said to myself.

  I grabbed him by the neck and pulled him towards me to kiss him passionately. At that moment, I let go of all my inhibitions, allowing the hedonistic pleasure of his touch to take me over.

  He was surprised by my passion and aggressiveness, but accepted it nonetheless. He grabbed me by the waist, feeling the softness of my t-shirt and the way that my waist curved into my hips.

  He embraced me tightly, kissing me hard. I returned his kiss with just as much passion. I moved my hands down to touch his chest which felt incredibly hard and muscular, down to his abs, and around his waist. Putting my hand up his shirt, I felt his soft skin and hard body. As I touched his skin, I could feel him sinking into my embrace.

  I was feeling spicy and ambitious; I pushed him back and swung my leg around so that I was straddling him with his back firmly against the back of the couch. As I did so, we continued to kiss passionately. Brad moved his hand along my waist and up to my breasts. I could feel him playing with my already hard nipples through the thin padding of my bra, and it turned me on. I put my hand on his, pushing it harder against my breast as if communicating an unmistakable tactile yes.

  I could already feel his cock growing harder. It was pressing against my thigh as I straddled him, and I began rocking my hips back and forth to stimulate him.

  Cleverly, Brad adjusted his cock with his hand so that it wasn’t pressing my thigh, but rather my genitalia so that he was stimulating me as well. I jolted ever so slightly at the sudden pressure on my slit, but sank into it. I knew that he wanted me as he was just getting harder by the second. I was so attracted to him and I wanted him inside of me so badly.

  Suddenly, I pulled back from our intense make-out session to pull my shirt over my head before leaning back in to vigorously kiss him with as much passion as before. He could see my breasts pushed together in my green bra and I could tell that he couldn’t get enough of them. He was touching them, squeezing them and playing with my nipples through my bra. It felt so good that I was already moaning loudly as we kissed.

  He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close to him, before unhooking my bra from behind my back. I let it fall off of me, reveling in the cool of the air on my erect nipples and the prospect of his touch on them. Just as I expected, he reached for my nipples, pinching them lightly between his thumb and forefinger, sending the nerves in my nipples reeling. I loved it and was so turned on by it. I took him by his hair and pushed his head down, straightening up my back so that his face was buried in my tits.

  He smiled at them, at me, and began burying his face in them, licking them, sucking them, and most off all, enjoying them. He put his hands firmly on my hips, pulling them in to him. I started back up with grinding my hips against his, sending tingling sensations throughout both of our genitals.

  “The bedroom is over there,” I said seductively. He smiled, which I took as an affirmative, and led him to the bedroom. We stood, kissing passionately for a moment with our bodies close, touching as much as we could.

  Boldly, I took a step back, and looking him in the eye, bent down to take my pants off. I was standing there, just in my bra and panties. They were mismatched, (but later Brad told me that he thought it was cute). Brad returned the favor and took his shirt and pants off, revealing his firm, well-defined body.

  We stood in front of each other almost naked, looking at each other’s bodies. It was an intimate moment, the kind of intimacy that I had never experienced with a man before.

  We stepped toward each other and gently embraced. We kissed softly for a moment, before Brad took me by the waist and laid me down on the bed. My heart was beating fast with anticipation. Brad crawled on top of me, brushing his hands lightly over my body, feeling each and every curve and detail that my body had to hold.

  We kissed, intimately and passionately, running our hands along each other’s bodies. Brad reached down in between my legs, reaching in to my panties. He felt my pubic hairs; they were trimmed but still long enough to curl, and they were soft. He reached down in between my labia to feel my clitoris. I could feel him running his fingers down along the lips of my pussy, gently dipping his finger in between my inner labia for some moisture before bringing them back up to
my clit so that he could ever so gently rub it in circles and listen to my moans. The skin around my clitoris was soft, but my clit was firm from the pleasure that he was giving me.

  I reached down to feel his hard cock. I took it in my hand, feeling how thick it was and how the blood was pumping through it, making it harder with each pulsation. I slid my hand up and down his cock, feeling every inch of it, the way that his head was shaped and the length of it. It was nicely sized and had a slight upward curve, which made my lips curve upward as I fantasized about how it would hit my g-spot. The thought alone was turning me on, making me even wetter.

  After a while of acquainting ourselves with each other’s genitals, I reached over to the nightstand to get a condom. I was eager and ready to go. My pussy was nice and wet as I felt him finger me, sliding his fingers all around my pussy, softly messaging with moisture.

  “Oh, Are you sure?” Brad asked when he saw the condom.

  “Yes,” I smiled, thankful for his consideration to ask me for my complete consent. Yes. My eyes widened.

  “Hold on a second,” he said, grinning devilishly as he slid down my body so that his face was close to my pussy. He slowly began to lick my clit and suck on it gently. I moaned, loving the pleasure. He slipped his finger into my pussy while licking away. I gasped with surprised pleasure. Everything that he was doing to me felt so good. But, I was eager for something larger than a finger. I grabbed him by the arm and pulled him up toward me.

  We kissed as he took the condom and rolled it onto his hard cock. He rubbed his tip around my clitoris, teasing my pussy, which was wet for his cock, and I yearned for it to be inside of me. I moaned as he teased me, almost slipping his cock into me, but pulling it away at the last second.

  Finally, with a hard thrust, he slid his cock into me, and I couldn’t help but moan louder than before. He smiled at my pleasure and his own. He began grinding his hips against mine, feeling the depth of my pussy. I grinded my hips right back, desperately feeling the pleasure and wanting more all the time.

  He began fucking me slowly, teasing me again by slipping his cock in and out of me so that I could feel the ridged head of his cock create friction against my opening. I lay there, taking it in, and letting him take control of me. The way he was fucking me was so hot, and I just wanted to let it wash over me and take it all in for a moment. He grabbed my thighs and lifted my legs up; I put my legs against his shoulder so that he could get as deep inside me as possible.

  Our lovemaking was slow and passionate, but just building up to the rougher stuff. I loved fucking like that; it just made the orgasm so much better. We went on like that for a while, running our hands over each other’s bodies and grinding our hips together.

  Then, suddenly, Brad swallowed hard and switched gears. He began really fucking me, and fast. I reached down and began rubbing my clit, which Brad thought was incredibly hot. With this new level of hotness, Brad began fucking faster, deeper, swaying his hips so that his cock could touch every part of my pussy. It felt so good for both of us. We had been fucking for quite some time by this point and both of us were getting closer to cumming.

  I was moaning loudly, rubbing my clitoris faster and unable to prevent myself from squirming around on the soft bed. Suddenly, I felt myself seizing with an orgasm.

  “Ooooh, oh oh oh,” I moaned, thrashing my body around, unable to control myself. Brad fucked me harder, wanting me to get off as hard as possible, but it made him even closer, too. He could feel my orgasm, the way that my pussy was contracting and pulsating around his thick cock. With every pulsation, he could feel the tightness of my pussy just getting tighter.

  Once he was sure that we had both cum completely, he gave me one last thrust before pulling out. But, upon pulling out, he noticed something.

  “Oh my god…” he said, visibly upset.

  He was staring down at his crotch wide-eyed, mouth agape.

  “What?” I snapped. Brad looked up at me, a look of abject horror on his face, a stark contrast from just one moment previously.

  “The… condom came off,” he said. My flushed face drained and turned white. I was speechless. “Are you on… birth control?” he asked.

  “…No,” I said slowly, hundreds of thoughts flashing through my mind. “It’ll be okay… I’ll take care of it.”

  “Do you want to get some Plan B?” he asked, concerned for me.

  “Yeah, I’ll get it tomorrow,” I said upon realizing that this was the best option at this point, “But,” I said, more relaxed, “hey, let’s not worry about it right now.”

  “Okay…” he said. “Well, that was some pretty great sex anyway,” he said smirking.

  “Oh god… it so was,” I said as I lay back on the bed, feeling the soft sheets on my bare skin. He lay down next to me and kissed my gently.

  We lay in bed for a while, just talking and cuddling. After some time passed, it was getting late, so Brad left me to contemplate the event which had just transpired: the great things that happened with Brad, my attraction to him and his mutual attraction to me, but also… that condom. I wasn’t too worried about it, but still the thought plagued the whole back of my mind.

  Chapter 4

  The next day just so happened to be the day of Brad’s party. I was looking forward to it, but also very nervous to be around Brad’s friends. They just weren’t really my type of people.

  Nonetheless, I got ready for the party, putting on a nice black dress and painting red lipstick onto my lips so that it looked like it was right out of the ‘20s. I rolled my stockings up my smooth legs, feeling the thin nylon caress every detail of my legs, hoping that later Brad would do the same.

  I don’t have a car, so I settled for taking the bus. On the bus, I patiently read a book that I had brought along for the ride, and as a back up in case the party stunk.

  When I got there, the lawn in front of his house was sprinkled with jocks and hot bimbos, every last one holding a red Solo cup, variously smoking and drinking, laughing loudly and conversing drunkenly. A typical college party.

  Bracing myself, I walked across the lawn to the front door and opened it to see a house packed with masculine men and feminine women. I snaked my way around the mass of people to the kitchen where there was a little more breathing room. I was looking for Brad the whole time, but couldn’t seem to find him in the thick crowd of people.

  Luckily, I found alcohol in the kitchen and fixed myself a drink. I sipped on it, looking around and feeling like the only person who wasn’t talking to someone or standing around in a group of people. I felt alone, but didn’t mind too much. I was just observing at this point.

  “Excuse me,” some random jock said to me, pointing toward the alcohol, which I was blocking.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” I said, quickly moving out of his way. I was just sort of absently looking around with my back to the refrigerator vaguely looking for Brad.

  “So, how’s your night going?” he asked me, looking me up and down.

  “Huh? Oh, it’s alright,” I said, grimacing as he made it apparent that he was objectifying my body as clearly as he was able.

  “Did it hurt?” he said in a sleazy way. He placed his palm on the top corner of the refrigerator, leaning in towards me. I knew exactly where this was going and had no patience for it as I heard these words from him “when you fell from heaven” so loudly that they totally drowned out the roar of the party.

  “You know, I actually didn’t fall from heaven. I crawled out from hell,” I said with a genuinely informative seeming attitude, rolling my eyes and rolling out from under his propped up arm to leave. I would have left at that moment without confrontation, but he grabbed my wrist, digging his fingers into my skin. I felt a fury rising inside of me. Like I said, I was versed in aikido. To my surprise, my training set off an alarm inside of me, which triggered an immediate reaction to this dork; I took his wrist and with a single, fluid, swift movement, he was on the ground! He had no idea how he
had gone from standing to laying in front of the refrigerator in the blink of an eye.

  “Fuck you,” I said sternly as I turned on my heel and walked off. I was totally pissed off at this point, but almost ready to crack a smile as I thought about what I’d just done. I really laid this guy out! When I went to parties with friends in the past, this kind of thing never happened. My friends weren’t total sleazebags and we were raised with some class. I stormed out of the house, fury embodied. But, felt really pretty good about kicking this jock’s ass.

  As I stomped along the front yard, Brad saw me and ran to catch up with me.

  “Hey, where are you going?” he asked.

  “I’m going home,” I said angrily.

  “How come? The party’s just starting,” he said. I could tell he was drunk already as I smelled the alcohol on his breath.

  “Because I was just sexually harassed by one of your ‘friends,’” I said angrily using air quotes.

  “What? What are you talking about?”

  “One of your goddamn buddies tried to hit on me and hurt my wrist,” I said curtly, raising my reddened wrist.

  “Oh come on, don’t overreact.”

  “Overreact? OVERREACT? Overreact to someone not respecting a woman’s boundaries and treating them like they’re some carbon copies of every other woman who may have reacted positively to a shitty pick up line? Oh you’re so right, I’m overreacting because I’m upset about the ritual objectification of women.”

  “Woah, it’s just a party,” Brad said, failing to cool me off.

  “Fuck you. I thought you were better than that,” I said. By this point, I had enough. I was smart, and considered myself to be an educated feminist; I knew I didn’t deserve this kind of crap.

  Without giving Brad another chance to hurt me further than he already had, I turned and walked away.

  As I sat at the bus stop, I was stewing with rage. How dare he defend that douche bag?