Chapter 21
21
Anais
Bishop’s house is dark as I walk up the stairs to the main living area. I had to use the flashlight on my phone when I was entering the number on the keypad to his garage because the street lamps weren’t on yet and darkness was already setting in. The days are already getting shorter, and his North facing house had only a hint of the setting sun casting a shadow on it.
I reach the second level and bypass it and go directly to the third floor where his bedroom is. I enter the dark room and flip on the light. I look around to find his room pristine. The four poster bed that sits up high is done up like it’s in a home catalog. The leather and metal bench has a blanket stylishly draped over the corner, and his lounge clothes are folded neatly at the corner of his bed.
I walk around, looking at the pictures that sit on his dresser and the art hung on his walls. I admire photos of him with his family, both blood and found, and trace the lines of his face in one where he stands proudly in his uniform with his parents.
He looks younger but just like the Bishop I know. Strong and tall and broad and with a smile that lights up my body. His muscles are much leaner compared to how he looks now. Back then he was fit but thinner. Now, he’s thick with bulging muscles and a body that says he does more than catch a ball.
I step into his closet and rake my fingers over his shirts and jeans. The entire closet smells of his cologne and laundry detergent and I bury my nose into one of his sweatshirts. My eyes close when I inhale, and I want to be buried in his scent.
I get an idea and start stripping off my clothes. I gingerly step out of my leggings and pull off my crewneck. My bra and underwear come off as well, and I finger through the shirts hanging, looking for the perfect one. I can’t find the right one, but I do come across something even better.
I step back out into his room and open the drawer where I saw him pull out a pair of boxers and grab some. Then I quickly peek in the other drawers and find a pair of socks that will go perfectly. I go back into his closet and put my outfit together.
I take a look at what I have and come to the conclusion that he shouldn’t be too upset to lose a nonessential clothing item, so I go into his bathroom and dig through his drawers until I find a pair of small scissors. They’re a bit difficult to use, but eventually I get the job done.
I finish dressing then quickly step into his room to turn off the light and flick on the lamps on his bedside tables. I play with laying on the bed and sprawling across the bench seductively. I even try to sit on top of his dresser but think better when the items start to jiggle. I go for standing against one of the poster bed rails, my hands behind my back and gripping on to the steel.
I steady my breath and wait to hear the beeping of the alarm as Bishop told me to reset the alarm once I was in. It only takes a few more minutes to hear the repetitive beeping of the alarm. The house falls silent only to be disturbed by a booming voice.
“Anais,” he bellows.
“In your room,” I call out as loud as I can.
The faint footsteps turn heavier as they draw closer and my heart begins pounding to the beat of his steps. I chew on my lip nervously as I wait for him to ent er. I start to rethink this whole scenario, wondering if it’s childish or if he’ll think I’m being immature.
Unfortunately, there is no time to change anything about this setup because just as I think I should run into his closet and change, the door swings open. A large brooding body stands in the doorway.
“Heaven help,” I hear him groan, and my nerves quickly turn to anxious energy.
“Hey Coach Michaels. I’m here for tryouts,” I tell him, my voice extra sugary sweet.
He takes slow, menacing steps towards me and his face moves further into the soft glow of the lamp. His eyes are wide and his mouth hangs open as his tongue smooths over his full bottom lip. I notice his fingers wiggle and his hands pump in and out of fists.
He stops right in front of me, his eyes trailing up and down my body before saying, “Well I’m sorry, Ms.De La Cruz, but tryouts are over and I’ve got a full roster.”
My cheeks rise high as my smile spreads like wildfire. I find the words to keep our little game going.
“Are you sure you can’t make an exception for me?” I squeeze my shoulder blades together, pushing out my breasts, and tilt my head to look up at him.
In his closet I saw a stack of plain white undershirts folded on a shelf, and found a white tank sitting right on top. I cut the hem so short that it barely covers my nipples, and the bottom portion of my breasts are exposed, just like the color of my nipples that peeks through the fabric. I grabbed a pair of his boxer briefs and rolled the waistband, making them as useful as the shirt was at covering up certain parts of my body, and slipped my feet into a pair of tall socks I found.
He fingers the hem of my t-shirt and his knuckles brush against my sensitive nipple. Chills erupt and I press my thighs together when I feel myself grow damp between my legs.
“I guess I could make an exception, but you have to be the best of the best. What position do you play?”
“Catcher. I’m great at giving signs, and I always give my pitcher a wide target to aim for. I can also spend a lot of time on my knees without getting tired.” I smirk at him, hoping he’ll get all of the innuendos I just threw out.
“It sounds like you’ve got all of the qualifications. I’d like to see you in action. Do you have time for a quick hands on demonstration of your skills?” His large hands smooth down my torso, over my ribs and rest on my waist.
“It doesn’t have to be quick. I have plenty of time to show you all of my skills.”
“Hm. But do you have your equipment?” he asks, and I let my fingers trail down his chest and stomach and over the bulge in his jeans.
I cup my hand over his stiff erection and whisper, “I’ve got everything I need right here.”
A low growl rumbles from his chest and his entire body vibrates. So does mine. With anticipation and a small dose of doubt. Is this something I can really do? For the first time, no less. I try to put those worries out of my head and tell myself that everything will be fine.
My fingers slide under the hem of his shirt and crawl up his hard chest. I flick his nipples and watch his nostrils flare. He helps me in getting his shirt off and I let my tongue lick a trail from his pecs, over the ridges of his abs, and lay a kiss just above the waistband of his jeans.
I work his belt undone and flip the button on his jeans. “Would you like to see my form? Maybe guide me to make sure I’m doing it right?”
His shoes get toed off and I begin pulling his jeans over his thick quads. God , I love his legs. They’re so big and strong and his skin is so dark and smooth. It’s a silly thing that it turns me on, but I get wet whenever I think about the muscles flexing as he walks.
When his pants are laying in a heap on the floor, I take a deep breath and do the same to his boxer briefs. His hard cock bobs when it’s freed and my palms turn sweaty. I’ve never given head before, though I’ve watched plenty of porn with oral sex. I don’t want to disappoint him, so I’m praying that my video research is good enough .
I bite my lower lip and wrap my hand around his shaft. Like his legs, it’s thick and veiny and now I know why I have such an obsession with his legs. My tongue peeks out and I dip my head and lick the precum that beads up at the tip. I hum when saltiness touches my tongue.
“Have you done this before, baby girl?”
With my hair covering my face I shake my head and mumble, “No.”
I’m embarrassed by my inexperience and afraid that he’ll decide I am too much of a child to bother with.
“Thank fuck,” he sighs and I lift my head, my shocked eyes meeting his mischievous ones. “I thought I was going to have to break the dicks off any douche that touched you.”
I smile up at him and raise up on my tiptoes. Placing a soft kiss on his lips, I tell him, “You’re it, Bishop. There has never and will never be another. I feel it in my heart.”
“Me too, my little butterfly.” His knuckles glide gently across my cheek before he returns my kiss, deep and passionately.
I break my mouth free with a pop and slither down his body. My eyes stay locked on his as I grab his hard dick again, and run my hand up and down. I run through the scenes I watched in porns like a rolodex of ‘how to’ and lick my lips, readying them for the stretch that will no doubt feel like I’m being sliced open.
“Do you kno–” he begins, but I steal his words when I wrap my lips around the engorged head and swirl my tongue. “Fucking Christ, Anais.”
I tease him, taking him shallow then a little deeper before sliding back and flicking my tongue. I hollow my cheeks and start taking him until he hits the back of my throat. I breathe in deep through my nose and relax my throat to take in more.
“Baby girl, you don’t have to do–goddamn, that’s so good.” I continue to move up and down, feeling him twitch and grow harder.
His fingers weave into my hair, a little too gently, and I pull off long enough to tell him, “I’m not made of glass, Bishop. You don’t have to be gentl e,” then return to sucking him and barely missing a beat.
The grip tightens slightly but still much too softly. I can tell he’s holding back a beast, but I won’t push him. Instead I continue to work him, my lips pulled tight and the sting in my jaw growing with each passing second. Still I persist because I want to be everything for him. I want to be the one to bring him the most pleasure. I want to be the only one who matters.
I squeeze my eyes and take a deep breath then hold it as I slide him back as far as I can. I gag but force it back down.
“I would love to fuck this mouth of yours, baby girl, but I want to fuck that tight little pussy even more. Would you like that, Ms. De La Cruz? Do you want my dick to split your other lips wide open?” His hand grips my jaw and he pulls out gradually.
“Yes, Coach Michaels.” A crooked smirk flashes on his face, and then he’s taking my hands and helping me to stand.
He takes a couple steps back and damn, is he beautiful. His deep brown eyes gaze over my body, and I can almost feel them tracing all the lines. With my hand still gripped in his, he spins me around to take in the full outfit.
“I don’t know where you got this from, but it’s hella sexy.” He lifts me up and sets me on the bed, then begins peeling me out of my makeshift uniform.
He rolls down one sock, pulling it off and throwing it over his shoulder, then does the same to the other. The half shirt doesn’t meet the same fate as everything else. Bishop grips the jagged cut hem with both hands and rips it in two. I hear the threads cry as they are separated. The fabric hangs open, exposing my breasts to him, and he plays with my sensitive nipples.
“I love your tits,” he says, not blinking or taking his eyes off of them for even a second. “They’re fucking perfect. And one day I’m going to slide my dick between them until I come all over them.”
His words have me fanning myself. No man has ever spoken to me or about me like that. Of course there’s only been one guy and he was so focused on not jizzing too soon that all he could say was, “Is that good? Are you okay? I hope it doesn’t hurt. Am I hurting you?” I faked that O so quickly because I couldn’t stand to listen to his whiny voice anymore. Two seconds after I “finished” he did as well, leaving no time for dirty talk.
Bishop kisses my neck and down my throat until he reaches my nipples. He licks, sucks then bites as he stretches them. I whimper from the pain, but will die if he stops what he’s doing. I cup the back of his head and hold him to me while he continues worshiping them.
A puddle builds between my legs and I lift my hips, wanting to feel him and ease the ache. He works his way from my breasts to my navel, and hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear and guides them down my legs.
“I need a little sample before I sink into you.” His head dips between my legs and he sucks me into his mouth.
He pulls my pussy lips and clit in like he’s sucking down a sweet drink. He finishes with a soft nip and a pop, then inhales my scent.
“Mmm. So good, baby girl.” He stands tall and takes the base of his cock in his hand.
He pumps himself a couple of times before running the head of his dick between my lips and pulling away, the tip glistening.
“Don’t stop. I want to feel all of you,” I beg, but he only shakes his head.
“No. I’ve already told you why.” He leans over and reaches into his bedside table for a condom.
He rips it open and begins sliding it over his hard length. My eyes devour every inch and I lick my lips. My legs spread a little wider to make room for him, and my body buzzes as I remember what it felt like to have him stretching me wide.
He nudges at my entrance and pushes the head in. Then he grabs my wrists, raising my arms above my head, before sliding all the way in.
I moan and close my eyes, the feeling better than I remember, and he begins to move. His hips roll and he connects with my clit sending a sensation that I can only explain as a free fall. My body feels weightless and I grow lightheaded with each spark .
He releases my wrists and straightens his spine. With his feet still on the ground, he tugs me closer to the edge then throws my legs over his shoulder. My tailbone is lifted into the air and his hands wrap around my thighs, anchoring me to him as he pumps faster and harder.
My tits bounce with each thrust and my body shifts on the bed. He grunts and drops his head back. I become lost in the feel and can sense my body getting closer to its release. He rights himself, flips my legs off his shoulder to one side, and holds them tightly together.
My fingers dig into the comforter covering his bed, searching for anything to keep me from flying away. Breathing becomes harder to do, my muscles grow weak and within a moment, I’m careening over the edge.
“Bishop,” I shout as I soar through bliss.
His thrusts turn harsh and I hear the slapping of our skin when it connects. My muddled thoughts turn clear when my orgasm fades away, and I blink my eyes open to see Bishops fixed on me.
My hips flexors burn with how tight they are pressed together, but relief comes quickly when he unbinds them. He yanks his still hard cock from my pussy and rips off the condom. His hand glides up and down his shaft and I watch, waiting for the moment his cum comes pouring out.
“Get on your knees,” he growls.
I blink up at him, not understanding what he means.
“On all fours. Get on your hands and knees and open that beautiful mouth of yours. I want you to drink me down.”
I scramble to my knees and drop my hands in front of me. I’m eye level with his cock and I open my mouth, sticking my tongue out and ready for him to feed me. I see a bead of cum form and I know he’s there.
The first salty spurt hits my tongue and he grunts, “Wider.”
I stretch my mouth as wide as it will go and he pushes in, his cum pouring down my throat and I swallow, gulping like it gives me life. His body turns limp and he falls from my lips. I finish with a lick of my lips before Bishop claims them for himself .
His hand holds me tight to him, not leaving a breath of air between us. My body, though limp and drained, feels better than it ever has. Or maybe that’s my heart because this feeling is new but somehow I know it’s the best one I’ll know in a lifetime.
We separate and it takes me a moment to roll my eyes open. I want to live in this bliss and not step back into the reality of who we are and the hurdles we’ll face along the way. Bishop’s eyes scan over my face and his fingertips ghost over my skin, sending shivers across my body.
His voice is gruff and low when he says, “You’re the most beautiful creature to walk this Earth, Anais. I want to make you mine in every way.”
Yup. It’s the heart. It’s his and it’s the best feeling in the world.
“I want to be yours in every way, Bishop.”
His crooked grin is so heart stopping that I just can’t help myself and reach out to brush across his lips.
“Let’s shower, baby girl. Then we have stuff to discuss.” He hefts me up in his arms and I wrap my legs around him as he carries me into his big shower where he sends me into the now familiar bliss one more time.