The announcer’s voice rose in excitement. Alex’s body tensed again. He let out a sigh of victory and relaxed into the mattress. I used that as an excuse to rock my hips forward, grinding my clit against his leg.
Alex glanced down at me with a faint frown. He had to be aware how aroused I was. I could feel my slickness as my pussy skated up and down over his skin.
His hand crept toward me, and I thought, for a stomach-churning moment, that he was going to push me away. Instead he brushed my nipple through my nightshirt, then took the stiff tip between his fingers and tweaked it.
A jolt of electric pleasure shot straight to my groin. I moaned aloud into his shoulder.
He laughed softly. Then let me languish there, unattended, while he swore at the ref’s bad call.
How the hell was I going to keep his attention on me instead of that damn game? Desperate for an ally, I curled my fingers around his hard cock. It twitched in solidarity.
Alex looked down at me again, as if deciding what to do. Then he did push me away, rearranging our bodies so I was on my back and he was on his side. One hand slipped around my shoulders to caress my breast, the other cupped my mons. Caught in his embrace, I’d lost my power to control my own stimulation. His cock, too, was safe from the temptations of my wandering hands.
“You be a good girl until half time,” he warned, his eyes still fixed on the TV screen.
I whimpered in protest, but could do little but surrender to my fate.
Which wasn’t as bad as it seemed at first. Alex didn’t ignore me completely. He doled out bits of pleasure between plays like single kernels of buttered popcorn. A palm circling over a nipple here, an idle stroking of my slit there. Just enough to get me arching up and breathing fast. Gradually we established little rituals of celebration. A first down for his team earned my breasts a few hot kisses. A touchdown won me a spirited clit strumming that brought me almost to the verge—before his fingers retreated to the remote to check the game on the other channel.
After a while, my lust hovered at a steady simmer even through the breaks. Yet each new ministration raised the temperature a few degrees until my flesh seemed to melt into a puddle of pussy juice beneath my ass.
I'm not a sports fan... but wow, Donna, that's my kind of a play-by-play!
I wasn't a sports fan either, J, but I was converted!
I'm a hockey girl (and so deprived thanks to the NHL lockout!), but I think I'll love this story!
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