Page 80 of Off the Rim
"All jokes aside," I tell him, laying down next to him and curling into his side with one arm and one leg thrown over him. "I think they might actually like you a little."
"I'm fucking delightful," he jokes, then kisses the top of my head. "I hope you're right. There were a few times when I wasn't sure if I was talking too much, but I felt like I wanted to be really honest about who I am. Aside from your parents, everyone just assumes I'm deserving of people's respect and adoration because they think I'm something special when I'm not. With your mom and stepdad, I want to earn their acceptance, and I can't do that if I'm not completely honest about mistakes I've made and how I got to where I am."
"I think you're something special."
"Mmm-hmm. I'm still not dicking you down with your mom across the hall."
"Rude."
We snicker like school children staying up late past their bedtimes, until we finally pass out, wrapped in each other's arms again.
I am in an awkward position, and it's all my fault.
We got too comfortable. I mean, what were we fucking thinking? Ashton has his own shower in his dorm room, which I've been basically sharing with him for the past four days.
So why am I currently holding my breath, on the edge of cumming my brains out, trying to stay silent in the team locker room while Ashton has me pinned to the wall with my legs hoisted over his arms and his cock halfway inside my ass?
Because I'm an idiot. A dick-drunk idiot.
We left my mom's house earlier than planned because I couldn't bear it anymore. And you better bet we didn't even make it thirty minutes down the road before we pulled over. I still have a crick in my neck from the way we had to fold ourselves in half before we gave up and just opened the door so I could bend Ashton over the back seats.
I'm insatiable. I don't know how my dick isn't chaffed at this point. If I'm being perfectly honest, my ass is a little chaffed. But I can't stop. I don't want to stop. I won't stop.
If we get kicked out of school in the next five minutes when someone walks around this wall partition to go into the showers—because no, we're not even in a fucking shower stall—I'm going to have to ask them to give us a little privacy to finish. What the fuck were we thinking?
"Let me down," I mouth.
Ash's arms are trembling with the effort of holding me up. If we're quiet enough, he can put me down and maybe we can sneak into separate showers and no one will be none the wiser. The handful of guys that are here are all talking over each other, catching up on gossip from over the holiday and what they plan to do for New Year's Eve tomorrow night. Tomorrow is our first practice back from winter break, then we have another practice on Thursday.
Butnooo, Ashton has to be an asshole. Whenever he's the one dicking me down, he gets all bossy and controlling. I don't hate it… except right now. Now is not the time to play sexy dominant control games.
With a dangerous twinkle in his eye, he bites his lip and pushes all the way into me. Now he can use his hips to help hold me up and torment me with an ass full of his cock while people that already hate me are standing directly on the other side of the wall.
Shooting daggers with my glare, I mouth, "I'm going to kill you." He chuckles silently, pulls out, and thrusts back in.
Did I mention I was already on the edge when the rowdy group of douchebags came in? I was so close to shooting that my cock had thickened to what I'm positive is an inhuman level. It was so bad Ashton had finally given up on edging me. His goal was to get me so worked up that I came hands free and, in his words, "Shoot so hard I can catch it in my mouth." We've fucked on nearly every surface of the locker room before we ended up against this wall. Less than ten minutes ago, I was fucking Ashton's throat while he laid across the same bench the guys are probably sitting on right now.
Imagine if they'd walked in on that? Their former prince, laid out on a bench with the team charity case squatted over his face, shoving my dick as far down his throat as I could get. It's been a goal of mine to make him gag, but all I can manage is to get him to make those salaciousgyuk gyuksounds that drive me wild.
We're about to put new meaning to fuck around and find out. Because they're definitely going to know something's up when I start moaning like a bull in heat. I don't think I can hold back.
My eyes plead with Ashton, begging him to take some fucking mercy on me. He adjusts, but not to let me down, the sadistic bastard. He unhooks his arms from under my knees one at a time, still using his hips to pin me against the wall, and guides my legs to wrap around him. It brings our bodies closer together, chest to chest. The angle isn't as deep, so my sensitive prostate isn't as painfully stimulated, but the friction of my cock rubbing into Ash's abs is almost as intense. Flattened against the wall, all I can do is wrap my arms around his neck and hold on for dear life as Ashton pumps himself inside me in long, smooth strokes. He swallows my breaths, sealing his mouth to mine when my body tenses and I come on a silent scream. Cum shoots out of me almost violently, painting Ash's cut abs.
Ashton lets out a faint, but audible, grunt as he comes seconds later, rocking against me as heat floods my insides. We keep kissing and holding on to each other until our heartbeats slow. Only then does the chatter from the other side of the wall filter into my cum drunk brain.
I don't recognize the first voice at first. "Did you see ESPN reported about James and Vell?"
"Yeah dude, it's fucked. Like, I don't care that they want to be together or whatever, but now this is all anyone's goingto be talking about. No one's going to report on our game. They're just going to ask about our teammates fucking each other." Unsurprisingly, Dustin Harris, who pretty much lives up Anderson Heart's ass, doesn't seem to be on our side.
"They're gonna get fucked in more ways than one," someone says, laughing. I can't pick out the voice through his laughter, but I think it might be Spencer Nolan. That's dismaying, as he's never been one of the players that gave me a lot of shit.
"What do you mean?" asks the first voice again, which I recognize now as Chase, a member of the scout squad and an Alpha Omega Psi pledge.
"They had scouts coming to see them. The fucking Clippers were not being quiet about their interest in both of them. I can guarantee they're not going to want anything to do with either of them now," Dustin answers.
"Because they're gay?"
Ashton finally lowers me to the ground, and I grab his arm, making sure he's not about to do anything stupid, like march out there butt naked and dripping in cum. That's definitely not going to ease any tension or help the other players accept having gay teammates.
