27. Jack

I leave the sports complex feeling dazed, but also excited. I'm fucking pumped.

This is really happening. I just shook hands with scouts that represent some big teams, including my first hopeful—The Carolina Panthers. They"ve got the first-round draft pick this year, and they"re fucking interested in me. Really interested. As in six-point-nine million dollars a year and a thirty fucking million dollar signing bonus interested.

Thirty. Fucking. Million.

I know I come off cocky, but something about actually achieving my dreams, and having the finish line so fucking close, has made me realize I didn't think I'd ever actually get here.

I"m a bastard child from the boonies, the off-shoot of a drunken one-night stand with a rando my mother never even got the name of. I"d have been aborted if she'd realized she was pregnant before she was too far along. Considering she drank well into her sixth month, and I was born prematurely, I"m probably lucky to be alive and as healthy as I am.

I"m a nobody from nowhere. Who really would have expected me to amount to anything? My anger at the world and chronic boredom have always gotten me in trouble, and I"ve always been too stupid to get out of my own way. For all my big dreams about playing in the Superdome someday, I never honestly believed I"d make it. I assumed I"d end up working at the power plant, or moving stolen electronics from warehouse to warehouse. That"s just what the future held for me. It was predetermined.

Until Groveton. Until Bryant.

I might have had some talent when I walked through the gates of the Groveton campus, and I certainly had just enough bravado to make things interesting. But he was the one that stripped me bare and rebuilt me into a fucking machine. And now I feel like I can take on the world.

I dial Bryant and listen to it ring. His voicemail picks up.

"Hey, it"s me. Are you home right now? You skipped out too fast for me to tell you how it went, and right now, I"m desperate to swallow your cock. Unlock the back door. I"m coming over."

I"m halfway to his house when I get a text.

BN: Not home. You need to be at the party, anyway.

BN: Glad it went well, though.

JP: I"d rather celebrate with you.

JP: *eyebrow waggle GIF*

BN: Go to the party. You"ll be missed.

I sigh audibly and throw my head back. I really don"t want to go to the party. My teammates are great and all, and we"re getting along well, but I don"t feel like I can be myself around them. Whenever I"m around my so-called friends, all I"m thinking is that I wish Bryant were there. There"s really only one person I want to celebrate with, but he"s not in the mood. I do know one thing he"s always in the mood for, though…

JP: What the fuck am I supposed to do with this thing?

Looking around me to make sure I"m alone, I turn on the flash and snap a quick picture of my junk and send it to him.

BN: I"m sure you can find plenty of willing young ladies. Wear a condom.

Are you fucking kidding me? I can"t tell if he"s joking. I know we keep saying this isn"t a relationship, and we specifically set boundaries for me to mess around with girls just to keep the heat off us, but I haven"t actually been able to follow through. I simply have no interest.

I can"t help but feel a little hurt and angry.

JP: So it"s like that, is it?

BN: It"s what it needs to be. Have fun, party safely, sleep in tomorrow. I"ll see you Monday at practice and you can tell me all about the meeting.

God fucking damnit.

I turn around and head the other way, feeling like my bubble has burst. I don"t want to go to the party, but I also don"t want to go home alone and stare at the walls while trying to block out the sounds of my entire dorm throwing an all-night rager. Now that everyone knows where my dorm room is, I get far too many unexpected visitors knocking on my door at all hours of the night. Bryant is right that I can find plenty of willing orifices for my cock, feels like everywhere I turn girls are all but bending over and presenting themselves to me. I literally had a girl—a complete fucking stranger—follow me into the men"s showers and aggressively try to suck my dick. I"ve been showering at the sports complex or Bryant"s house exclusively since then.

Getting my dick sucked, or more, is no problem. Which reminds me of the one thing I know will get under Bryant"s skin. He wants to pretend like he"s okay with me getting with anyone and everyone I want? I"ll show him just how bothered he can be. He wants to tell me to wear a condom like it"s no big deal? I"ll show him.

The party is in full swing by the time I arrive. Beer and liquor are flowing, and there is the heavy scent of weed in the air. The music is loud and thumping, but the cheer that goes up when I walk in is even louder. As I pass through the house, people shake my hand, hug me, or thump me on the shoulders. Most of these people I don"t even know. I wave and greet my teammates, most of whom are blitzed already.

Lane is in the kitchen when I pass through and he comes over to pull me into a one-handed bro hug and thumps me on the back.

"Dude, is it true you met with some big scouts tonight?!"

Despite my reckless mood, my grin is real. "Yeah, man. It"s nuts."

"Not as nuts as it"s gonna get tonight! Alex! Pour my man a shot!"

He doesn"t pour me just any shot. When I turn around, I see three half-naked girls laying on the table. Alex pours tequila into all three of their belly buttons, hands me a salt shaker, and sticks a lime in the last girl"s mouth. I pull my phone out to record the action, and Aniyah appears at my side.

"Here, let me," she says, taking my phone from me so I can get a better camera angle.

"I"ll make sure to thank you later," I say, giving her a kiss on the cheek and a purposely suggestive grin. I won"t, but she"ll be too drunk to remember if I did or not.

The light for the camera comes on, and I survey my options, deciding to go all in. I shake the salt on the first girl's cleavage and lick before slurping the booze out of her belly button, then move to the second, doing the same. On the third girl, I reach for the salt shaker and sprinkle it on her thigh. With a wink at the girl, who I"m pretty sure is a freshman but who cares, I lick a long line up her thigh, all the way up to her panty line, before suggestively licking and sucking the booze from her navel, then bending over her to bite and suck the lime from her mouth. She makes it even more of a show by pulling me down for a sloppy kiss once I"ve put the lime down.

The room erupts in leering whoops and cheers, and I spend a few minutes flirting with all three of the girls, talking about all the other things I can do with my tongue. I realize that Aniyah is no longer recording and wonder where she went with my phone. When I look around the room, I find her near the entrance to a hallway, dangling the phone and crooking her finger at me. My mouth quirks into a smirk and I excuse myself from the table, much to the loud dismay of the girls there. I mentally high five myself for my performance, knowing no one would ever suspect me of bending over for the head football coach after that.

I follow Aniyah down the hallway into a small half bath, and realize the hard part of my performance is about to begin. She doesn"t seem drunk at all, so I"m not sure how I'll manage to distract her from my flaccid dick.

She pulls me into the bathroom and locks the door, and I do what"s expected of me, pretending to be excited by her, pressing her against the door and kissing her. Her tongue is like a dead fish in her mouth, and I"m honestly not sure how she got my dick up before I fell for Bryant Nicks. I move my mouth down to her neck so I don"t have to taste her mouth anymore. When her hand reaches for my pants, where I"m barely sporting a half-chub from the friction, I distract her by lifting her up and setting her on the sink. She opens her legs for me, and I rub her pussy through the lace of her panties. She moans and lifts my shirt.

"God, your abs are insane," she says, and her fingertips start to move lower. My brain scrambles for anything I can use.

"I don"t have a condom," I say, putting a little whine into my voice like I"m suffering for it.

Her hand doesn"t stop its downward descent, moving to fumble with the button on my jeans. "That"s okay, I"m on the pill."

"I don"t fuck without a condom," I say against her mouth, moving her hand away.

It"s true, or at least it was before I started letting Bryant fuck me, but that"s different. The last thing that I want is a baby mama, or an STD.

"Don"t worry, baby, I"ll still make you feel good." My fingers move under the edge of her panties, rubbing through the folds of her wet pussy. I don"t waste time teasing her, pushing two thick fingers inside her and moving my thumb over her clit. The quicker I can get her off, the quicker I can get this over with.

Her breath comes in pants as I begin to work her over. To avoid kissing her mouth, I pull one of her breasts over her skimpy top and pull the nipple into my mouth. I suck hard and she cries out, her pussy clamping down on my fingers.

"Oh, God, Jack!" she screams, overly loud, making sure anyone in a five-foot radius of the bathroom knows what"s happening in here. Luckily for her, I want them to know, too. I keep my thumb moving while she rides my hand through her orgasm. "That was so good," she purrs. "But I really want to have you in my mouth again."

I"m trying to think of a reason to protest when she says, "You can take a video of it to watch later. I know that"s what you like to do, right?"

She has no idea. The idea of catching her mouth around my cock on video has my dick perking right up, but not for the reason she thinks. It"s because I know what kind of reaction I"ll get out of Bryant when he sees me feeding my cock to someone else.

I start to unbutton my pants and pull out my growing erection.

"Damn," she says, eyes wide. "It"s bigger than I remember. If I take a picture of it, will you text it to me?"

"Sure, whatever," I say, stroking my length to keep myself hard. "You gonna suck this?"

She doesn"t seem to mind my rudeness, only grins and hands me my phone back, so I can point it at her while she ties her hair back and gets on her knees. She licks my cock like an ice cream cone, looking up at the camera through her lashes. She's acting for the camera, for me. It's all fake. Her performance is annoying me more than my own, and I can feel my dick starting to wilt. Before it does, I grab her by the ponytail and push my cock into her mouth. Her lips stretch around me, and she gags and struggles for a moment.

"Relax your throat," I tell her, repeating the exact words that Bryant once said to me, knowing it'll drive him crazy. "That"s it. Just open up and let me in."

Using those words makes my cock jerk in her mouth. The memory of sucking him off in his office, of what it feels like to have his big cock hitting the back of my throat, is enough to have my balls tightening. Aniyah"s amber eyes aren't close enough to his hazel ones for me to keep looking at her, though, and I close my eyes and imagine it"s him sucking me instead. It"s enough, and in a few more harsh pumps, I"m unloading into her mouth.

"Don"t swallow," I tell her. "Let me see."

She opens her mouth, and I zoom the camera in on my cum, coating her tongue and pooling in the back of her throat.

"That"s it," I say.

Once the camera is off, I"m done and ready to escape this bathroom. After she fixes her clothes and I tuck my dick back into my pants, Aniyah tries to kiss me again, but I shirk her away, pushing past her to wash my hands. I"m getting ready to open the door and make a run for it, but Aniyah sulks, clearly upset about me blowing her off now that she"s blown me. I"m sure I"m coming off like a complete prick, but as long as I"m not coming off as a gay prick, I don"t really care. Girls like her love that shit anyway. Why else would she keep coming back for more?

"What about my picture?" she pouts.

"What?" Oh, the dick pic. I suppose it couldn't hurt to have that floating around campus. "Fine," I mutter, rolling my eyes to the ceiling to try to keep my composure. I'm growing more impatient by the moment.

"Here, I"ll do it," she says, snatching my phone. Her eyes go wide. "What is this?" she says, looking up at me, and then back at the phone with a confused look on her face.

"What?" I"m bored with this. I want to send the video so I can get punished, and then I can really get off.

"That"s not your dick," she says, turning the phone to show me the picture of Bryant Nicks" erect cock. It"s definitely not my dick, but it is my hand wrapped around it, which she"ll be able to tell by the scar on my left thumb if I let her look long enough to notice.

"Give me that," I say, reaching for the phone back, but she holds it out of my reach.

"Why do you have a picture of some other dude"s dick on your phone!" she shrieks, too loudly, and I wince. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I scramble for an excuse, trying to remain calm. Make a joke out of it. "Ha. you'd be surprised how many weirdos send me pictures of their junk. I saved that one to show the guys. I mean, look at that fucking monster. It"s bigger than mine!" I exclaim, laughing like this is nothing. Like my heart isn"t beating frantically in my chest, or that my mind isn"t spinning out of control with fear.

Calm down, Jack. Worst-case scenario, she tells people you have a picture of another man"s dick on your phone. Make excuses, or hell, who even cares if they think it"s there for a reason. As long as they don"t know whose dick it is.

Then the other foot falls.

Aniyah hits play on a video. Whether she's done it by mistake or on purpose, a recording of one of the many video calls we"ve made over the past couple of months begins to play on the screen. One where Bryant, in all his glory, is stroking his cock and telling me how to play with myself. You can clearly see his face, watch him say my name, and hear my voice saying, "Yes, Coach," every time he gives me an instruction.

Fuck.

Aniyah"s eyes are wide, watching the video with her mouth wide open, a look of shock on her face that melts into something else. Her brow furrows like she"s putting puzzle pieces together.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

"That day at the sports complex, you were so close together you could have been kissing. I thought I was seeing things. And at the donor brunch, he was watching you so closely. I thought it was weird, but… you"re fucking each other?" Her face screws up, like she"s disgusted, and she looks up at me with unbridled judgment. Suddenly, I feel small, despite being well over a foot taller and at least fifty pounds heavier.

"It"s not what you think!" I blurt out, but I"m too frozen to come up with anything clever to say.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I"ve ruined both our lives because I"m a fucking idiot.

What do I do?

What the fuck do I do?