Andres 5.
Thank God, I’m finally home. I drop my bags in the foyer, kick off my shoes, wander into my sitting room and face plant on the couch with a groan.
Almost a week away isn’t so bad, but this trip took a lot out of me.
The shit with Heacock started it off on a bad note, but meeting Jenna certainly turned it around.
Jesus. Fucking her, feeling her hot tight pussy surround me, her tits in my hand, her cries in my mouth…
I’ve missed her much more than I thought I would.
Leaving her Monday was one of the hardest things I’ve done, truth be told.
With another sigh, I pull my phone from my pocket while I roll over on my extra deep couch.
I’m a big guy; my furniture is built accordingly.
I stare up at my vaulted ceiling while the phone rings in my ear.
Disappointment begins to creep in when it seems she isn’t going to answer.
It clicks and I expect her voicemail greeting, but it’s her voice, tentative and soft. It makes me smile.
“Hello?”
“Prickles.” I breathe out my greeting, my eyes closing with contentment.
Hearing her voice elicits a stronger response than I was expecting.
I knew I missed her, but this is the first time I’ve heard it in days, and I’m already addicted to it.
To her. A dangerous game to be sure, but I’ve never shied away from a challenge.
Based on our weekend, I think Jenna will be my greatest challenge and the most rewarding.
“Andres? What…why are you calling?” A lesser man might be offended, but not me. I’ve faced down 300-pound defensive tackles, I can handle my prickly pear.
“Because I wanted to hear your voice.” I’m an honest man, and I have a feeling Jenna won’t appreciate anything less than complete and total honesty. She doesn’t suffer fools lightly. And I’m no fool.
“Oh.”
“What are you doing?” I bend an arm behind my head and switch my phone to speaker and lay it on my chest. She sighs, and something is off about the sound. “Jenna, is everything ok?”
“Yes. No. Ugh! Work is just…I’m a little frustrated right now, but it’ll pass.” I open my mouth to ask questions, but she cuts me off. “And I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Ok.” I won’t push her.
She clears her throat, and I hear her shifting around. Is she in bed? My cock perks up, doing his best to salute again now that he hears his general. “Are you home or still on the road?”
“I’m finally fucking home.” Her laughter is soft.
“It always sucks traveling. I don’t know how you do it.”
“I’m used to it, I guess. After playing for so long, the transition into scout wasn’t difficult. I usually start to miss my home throne and my bed, in that order.”
“Home throne?” she questions, then laughs again, this time loud and proud. “Your toilet?”
“Yes!”
“So, what’s on your agenda now that you’re home? Do you have to go back out again soon?”
I move to my side, placing the phone on the couch cushion in front of me.
“The combine is in less than 5 months. The coaching staff will assess the team dynamics, weak points, and plot which positions need to be filled. My team will present them with a list of hopefuls, and we’ll work out our potential draft options.
The combine will narrow it down, in the meantime, I’ll keep watching highlights and fielding calls and emails from college coaches. ”
She’s quiet for a few beats. “You love what you do, don’t you?”
I smile as I answer. “I do. Love football. I’ve lived it for over 35 years.”
“Wow.” she says in awe. “You’re old.”
I close my eyes and drop my head back with my hand over it as I laugh. “Shush, I’m 39.”
“You’re 11 years older than me,” she pauses, then tacks on an insolent, “Grandpa.”
I reach down to my cock and squeeze it with a groan. “This grandpa is hard as nails for you.”
She sucks in a sharp breath. When she speaks her voice is thready. “So I read, how uncomfortable was that meeting?”
Thinking about that damn meeting, I groan again, but this time in frustration. “Actually, not too bad until I had to stand to shake hands.”
She chuckles. “Wish I could have seen it.”
I sit up quickly, nearly knocking my phone off my couch.
I’m already tugging at my clothes when I reply, “You can.” Sitting on my couch, I press the button to switch to a video call and sit back with my legs spread wearing nothing but boxer briefs and a smile.
A moment later, she fills my screen, and my cock tries to jump right out of my boxers.
“Fuckin’ hell.” I moan, my gaze eating her up, wishing she was here in the flesh instead of miles away.
She’s in a baby blue tank top that does nothing to hide the outline of her hard little nipples.
Short shorts that ride up her toned thighs while she sits on her couch.
Hair in a messy top knot, no makeup, and fucking breathtakingly beautiful.
“You ain’t got no clothes on!” she blurts out, a pretty flush suffusing her cheeks and upper chest as her hungry gaze runs over my exposed skin. I spread my legs a little wider with a smirk.
“I’m still wearing my underwear.” I thrust my hips up and put my fingers in the waistband. “You want me to take them off?” She nods, biting her bottom lip before her eyes widen in alarm.
“No. That’s not necessary.”
“For what I have planned, it most certainly is. In fact,” I stand up, push them down to my ankles and step out of them as she gasps and moans.
My cock juts out proudly, like a heat seeking missile, looking for its target.
“Why don’t you take your clothes off too.
It’s rude not to get naked with me. Poor phone etiquette. ”
I sit back down, watching eagerly while she pulls her tank top over her head.
Her tits bounce free and my hands clench in disappointment that I can’t touch them.
I hold up a hand before she starts on her shorts.
“Wait! Hold on!” I fumble with the controllers and my phone and after a couple tense minutes, I’m able to transfer my video call to my television.
“Jesus!” There she is, filling my 116-inch television with absolute fucking carnality.
“Stand up and slowly push your shorts down.” She obeys so nicely, I sit back with a grunt, fisting my cock and stroking it slowly as I watch her.
“Now what?”
“Sit down, legs spread, show me how much you miss me.”
“I don’t miss you.”
I pin her with a hard stare potent enough to have her biting her bottom lip with a soft moan. “Never lie to me, Prickles.”
“I miss your cock.”
“This cock?” I give it a few strokes, my hips rocking, giving her a good show. I tug on my balls and drop my head back with a groan.
“Y-yeah.” I lower my chin to see her. She sits down on the edge of her couch, swallows hard with a deep breath, then smirks at me.
“Good God,” I mutter, mesmerized by the sight of her spreading her legs straight out to her sides, essentially doing a split.
Her bare, glistening pussy on full display.
My mouth waters the longer I stare at it, immobile and so fucking hard my cock throbs in pain.
“Do you have any idea how devastating you are in HD on a 9-foot television?”
Her back arches as a moan slips from her lips, her tits thrusting out. On instinct, she trails a hand up her torso to tease the soft skin of her tit. Precum shoots from my swollen angry tip when she pinches her nipple.
“Touch your pussy, baby. Slide your fingers through your slit and show me how wet you are.” Her fingers glisten as she holds them up to me.
“Now suck them.” Her filthy moan fills my living room, her mouth open so I can see her tongue trace her fingers before she closes her mouth and hollows her cheeks.
I remember what that felt like on my shaft, how her throat hugged the head of my cock.
I stroke a little faster. Squeeze a little harder.
“Fuck your cunt, pretend I’m filling you up, stretching your little hole until all you can feel is me.
” Her fingers circle her clit and then slide inside and her body jolts. “Fuck.”
I time my rhythm to match hers, her fingers pumping in and out, squelching noises accompanying her gasps and my groans.
I can’t look away, captivated by this little woman with the big personality and bigger brain.
Of course, right now, it’s her sopping pussy and heaving tits that are holding me hostage.
“Andres…I’m close…are you?”
“I am, baby. I’m so fucking close. Play with your clit.”
Her dark eyes lock on mine and her mouth goes slack as she watches me. “You’re so beautiful,” she murmurs, her head bobbing with my strokes. “Your arms…the muscles…Jesus, your fucking abs…I could look at you all day, every day, and it…I would…I’m always so wet when I think of you!”
“Jen, look at me.” Her eyes move to mine and I bark, “Cum. Now.” Her fingers on her clit are a blur, her entire body red with arousal, her other hand steady, but I can see the tendons flex as she rubs the ultrasensitive spot inside her.
I stroke three times more and erupt as she thrashes on the couch, her stomach rippling with spasms, her thighs trembling.
Her back hits the soft cushions and she draws her legs together in front of her as she comes down.
There’s a sticky mess on my stomach, my softening cock dropping limply to my thigh, my breath sawing in and out at a rapid pace.
My head swims as I relax into the welcoming comfort of my couch.
I smile lazily at her, her lips tipping up, her eyes bright but soft.
“Feeling better?” I ask, my voice drenched with satisfaction.
She nods, her eyes closing on a sweet sigh as her head falls back. “So much better.”
“Texting is great, Prickles, but I want to see your face at least once a day.”
Without opening her eyes, she grins. “My face or my pussy?”
“Both.” She laughs, then her mouth opens on a big yawn.
“Alright, time for bed. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Not sure when, we have a game.”
“I know. Call me when you’re done.”
“Should I be naked when I call or do you want to watch me undress?”
“You are perfection.” Her smile turns brittle, but she rolls her eyes playfully.
“Hardly. Have a good night, Andres. Thank you…thank you for calling.”
“You can’t get rid of me that easily.” I reassure her, but she doesn’t believe me.
“We’ll see.” She reaches forward and disconnects the call. My cock is happy; my body feels gooey in a good way. I don’t like how she ended the call, but I already knew she was reticent. I’ll just have to work harder to prove she can trust me.
I grab my phone off the coffee table and pull up my calendar. How soon can I take some time off for a road trip?