8. Player
PLAYER
Emery and Alabama are having a late dinner together, and seeing them so friendly with each other is getting on my nerves. I approach their table and sit down without warning. I could swear Alabama jumps. Satisfied with my surprise effect, I don't hide a little smirk.
"Speak of the devil!" Emery exclaims.
Alabama avoids looking at me while I take great pleasure in staring at her.
Her cheeks have taken on a slightly rosy tint, her hair cascades around her face, and she's wearing a sweatshirt emblazoned with the college logo.
I almost miss the little tank top she wore last night that revealed her chest.
"What were you saying about me?" I ask before biting into the sandwich I just bought. Fuck it, I can use the calories today myself.
As if she'd been waiting for this moment to react, Alabama raises her eyes to me. "That you're a real jerk."
I nearly choke on my bite, and take a sip of water to wash it down. Next to me, Emery laughs without any discretion. "You'll pay for each of your provocations, Alabama."
My words don't throw her off, she returns my gaze without blinking. I could get angry that she hasn't cracked already, but actually, I find it stimulating. Alabama represents a challenge that amuses me.
"Well, I can't wait to see that," she retorts in a tone that says exactly the opposite. She picks up a fry from her plate and puts it in her mouth, then licks her fingers afterward. My cock reacts in response, which irritates me. "Those fries will go straight to your hips."
Alabama looks at me, an unreadable expression on her face, before retorting, "Maybe that's the desired effect, you know, like Kim Kardashian?"
"I think you look hot just the way you are," Emery interjects. I shoot him a dark look to shut him up. My friend gets up and retreats. “Ahhh, I just saw Thomas, and I wanted to tell him something."
He leaves the table, leaving me face to face with Alabama, who stuffs more fries into her mouth while maintaining eye contact with me. She swallows before declaring, "Anyway, I don't see how the size of my hips concerns you since you're not attracted to me."
"You're the one who's going to be attracted to me."
She shakes her head, amused. "Impossible."
Her confident tone triggers an alarm in me. Why is she so convinced it won't happen?
"Are you a lesbian?"
"No, but it's worse for you because I'm sapiosexual." Since I don't respond, she continues. "What attracts me to a guy is his intelligence and charisma, so you can put away your pretty face and athletic body because they don't do anything for me."
"I don't believe that for a second."
We face off with our eyes, and I feel doubt creeping in.
Could Alabama really be the first woman immune to my charm?
I immediately push that idea away. It's just impossible, statistics don't lie. Women who aren’t already ready to take off their panties just by meeting me became that way after I do what’s needed to seduce them.
Alabama won't be an exception to the rule.
"You're lying," I assert.
She shakes her head, and puts another fry, a very long one, between her lush lips. "Oh no, I assure you. And just for your information: commenting on a woman's weight isn't how you seduce her."
Without taking my eyes off Alabama, I take a long drink of water before calmly setting the bottle back on the table. My tone is falsely gentle when I answer her, "Oh yeah? And what topics do you like? You probably enjoy talking about little kittens, fairy tales, and chocolate."
She doesn't reply, but the murderous gleam in her eyes doesn't escape me.
"Oh no," I continue, "let me guess! What makes you dream is a Prince Charming on his white horse who'll put a ring on your finger, and with whom you'll start a perfect little family.
" I make a disgusted face. “Probably with a picket fence and a dog, too. Some stupid breed like a French bulldog or a labradoodle.”
"In any case, it's certainly not you who I like!" she protests.
I hold her gaze as I lean a bit over the table. Alabama's slight movement backward doesn't escape me.
"You'll fall for me, Alabama, and do you want to know why?" I ask. Her mouth parts, but I don't give her time to reply as I continue, "Because I'm not talking to your intellect."
I place an index finger on my temple to accompany my point.
"No, I'm speaking directly to your tight little pussy. I'm the type who could fuck you in the middle of this cafeteria without even attracting anyone else's attention."
Alabama's eyes have widened with shock. Her breathing has quickened, and she doesn't interrupt me. I have a small, smug smile as I continue:
"I'm the guy who could slip into your room in the middle of the night to lick your pussy until you scream with pleasure, I'm the guy who could fuck you in his car in a parking lot.
Yes, I'd be that guy who would do all those things you've never done, Alabama, those you dared to imagine but never try, and those you'll never admit you fantasize about. "
The use of her nickname seems to break her silence, because she retorts. "Right now, you're mostly the guy whose name should appear in the dictionary under the definition of 'presumptuous.'"
"I have plenty of conquests ready to confirm what I just said."
Alabama laughs mockingly. "Wait, you think I'm asking for social proof?"
She laughs even harder, and suddenly I want to throw her over my shoulder and carry her away from the crowd. Once alone, I'd shove my cock down her throat, and she wouldn't be laughing so much when I fucked her like she's never been fucked before.
Oblivious to my thoughts, Alabama continues, "All your declarations won't change anything, Player."
She grabs her tray and stands up. I lift my eyes to maintain contact with her.
"You might have fucked every woman around," she delivers with utter, convincing vehemence, "but I'll be the one who resists you and makes you swallow your arrogance."
With those words, she turns on her heel. I watch her cross the large seating area, my fists and jaw clenched. This girl might not be so easy to make give in. Maddingly, I feel a mixture of frustration and desire swirling together .
Emery's imposing figure materializes at the table. "Are you done acting like an ass?"
He fixes his gaze on mine, a questioning look on his face.
"Mind your own business," I growl.
Alabama has disappeared from my view, but without realizing it, I'm looking for her.
"If the dorm’s is going to turn into a battlefield, I think that concerns me," argues my offensive lineman. Considering my health is literally his job, he’s got a point.
"It's just a little game between her and me, and I'll win it, like always." Emery gives a skeptical little chuckle. I turn my attention back to him. "What?"
He shrugs. "This girl might actually succeed in taming you, man."
"Not in a million years!"
"We'll see."
"Oh, it's already decided. She's going to crack, and..."
"And what?” Emery growls. “Let's say she tells you she wants you to fuck her, what happens next?"
I'm starting to see where he's going with this, and I don't like it at all.
Shit!
"Girls don't do it for you, you like mature women," Emery adds.
"Thanks, I'm well aware."
"So I'll ask again, what will you do when she asks you to fuck her?"
"You're a pain in the ass!" I mutter as I stand up. But Emery isn't letting it go, he follows me as I leave, like a six foot four inch specter over my shoulder. "Dude, you're screwed."
I don't respond because I'm lost in my thoughts.
Alabama is giving me more trouble than I would have thought.
She's truly the first to push me away like this.
Sure, I've been told no before, but it was always to eventually say yes later.
But Alabama doesn't seem to have fallen for my charm.
Far from it. She seems to be mocking me every time we talk.
My fists are still clenched as we walk toward the dorm.
"Couldn't you just leave her alone and move on?" Emery asks.
"That's not going to happen."
I've never lost a sexual game, and I don't plan to start today. One way or another, Alabama will crack. It's a matter of honor.
"There's no shortage of women in this city," my friend continues. "Are you still seeing Yana?"
I think about the woman I've fucked so many times these past few months.
Strangely, I'm not interested in her at all anymore.
Her perfect body has often made me hard, just visualizing her breasts or her ass was enough to stand at attention, yet at this moment, no matter how much I try to invoke all my hottest memories, I don't feel the slightest bit of excitement.
My answer comes belatedly. "She has a boyfriend."
"Since when has that bothered you?"
I shrug. "I could keep fucking her if she wasn't pregnant."
I glance at Emery. His attention is fixed on the ground.
"So Player does have limits," he remarks after a moment. There's no trace of mockery in his voice, it's simply an observation. I guess he's right. I can sleep with any woman, preferably older ones, but I can't fuck a pregnant chick.
"You could just call on someone else," he continues.
Indeed, I could. But I don't want to. A certain brunette resurfaces in my thoughts, and I feel that mixture of frustration and... desire? Fuck me, this is annoying.
I shake my head to clear my thoughts. There's no way I'm going to fuck Alabama. I just want her to beg me to do it, then I'll move on. Yes, that's it! All things considered, this little game between us is purely mental. I want her to bow down before me.
Suddenly, an image of Alabama naked and on all fours in front of me flashes in my head, and my cock twitches in response.
Fuck! Tonight I'm going to jerk off thinking about her again!
The sky is veiled, and clouds are gathering above the practice field, a storm is going break out soon. My meteorological observations are short-lived as I need to focus on the balls I'm throwing.