Rooster: A Secret Baby Sports Romance (11 page)

I love the moment of penetration so much I hold back and slide in slowly, even though I can feel her whole body pulling me into her. Her pussy muscles are like steel around my cock, and as they grip on, I feel waves of pleasure ride out across my already goose-pimpled skin.

“Fuck, Izzy, that feels incredible.”

I pull her hair just to hear her moan, the fingers of my other hand gripping her hip so tight the tips have gone white.

“Deeper”, she pleads. “Fuck me harder.”

I can do that. Fuck, I can do that and more. I build speed, jamming my cock deep into her pussy so much she can’t help but scream. The view from here is incredible too, her pussy just tight enough to fit my dick like a glove, my cock so big it stretches her as wide as she’s physically able to go, her button tight anus opening and closing like it’s winking suggestively at me.

I want to tongue her and fuck her all in one go. I want to push her to the edge, bring her down again and then shove her violently over the precipice when she’s not looking.

“There. Fuck, harder”, Izzy moans.

I pull her onto my dick, both hands on her hips now so I can slam myself strongly against her ass, my balls banging with a thud fiercely enough I can feel it in the pit of my stomach.

Like this, it won’t take either of us long to come. Like this, I’m hitting her G-spot so hard her pussy is likely to melt.

I push her into the bedding, consumed by a desire to have her feel my weight on top of her and unable to hold myself back. I want to fuck her through the bed if I have to, I want to fuck her through every single floor until we come out in reception.

Izzy struggles against it but she’s unable to resist me. I stretch her hand out in mine, interlock my fingers in hers and bite down her on her shoulder.

With my knees up into her thighs I push her wide, and, spread out below me like a frog trapped below a tiger, I fuck her towards nirvana.

She’s already coming when she begs me to turn her around, keen to spread herself out on top of me, to have me hold her against my chest and finish myself off inside her.

I take her left breast in the palm of my hand, and let her move my other hand to her neck and hold it there just as tightly as she wants. Her diminutive size allows her to sit with me inside her, her feet against my thighs and her body loose enough at the hips to rock and grind and take control enough to send us both even deeper towards it.

I have never felt anything like it. I’ve fucked a bunch of girls but none of them have made me feel this way. I’ve known Izzy for less time than almost every other person I know, and already I’m falling hard.

With a free hand, she cups my balls, first pushing them down away from my body and then up towards her pussy on a downward thrust, and I can feel it building so strongly inside me I know I’ll not be able to hold back.

Izzy hasn’t stopped coming since before I turned her around, and right now she’s a mess of moans and screams and breath trapped high in her throat, from lungs that try everything to refill. I have to hold her tightly so she doesn’t bounce off, her body jerking this way and that with every thrust.

“More”, she moans at me, the words barely more than a high pitched yelp. And then, “Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, oh, fuck, oh fuck, oh-.”

I grit my teeth as another orgasm rips through her, this time, strong enough to make her pussy muscles convulse uncontrollably. I feel them grip my dick, and I know I’m past the point of no return, even before she’s pushed down so deeply I must be halfway up to her chest.

I sit up, only because I can’t lie down anymore. My balls tighten, my cock head swells and every single muscle in my body goes tense. It’s so strong I almost black out, and I can’t help myself from screaming.

Izzy’s screaming too, so loudly it sounds like we’re fighting not fucking, sweat dripping from both of our bodies and into the bed, me arched up and Izzy compact between me, I come, so hard I feel like my balls have actually exploded.

Izzy wriggles as I buck into her, half a dozen times or more, a sensation so incredible, it’s at least a minute before I can even comprehend what’s just happened.

I fall back to the bed, completely spent. My idea of going slowly completely blown out of the water by this girl and my overwhelming desire to fuck her. I don’t even know her surname. I don’t even know anything about her and here we are. She could be married. She could have kids. She could have a completely different life I will never be part of.

I turn to the side, Izzy with me and hug her against my back, still hard inside her and convulsing away. A long time passes before either of us speaks, and when Izzy finally finds her voice, my pulse hasn’t yet gone back to resting pace, my breath not yet returned to normal.

“On a scale”, Izzy says. “Of one to ten.” She pauses to breathe. “If one was
meh, not interested
and ten was
universes exploding
.” Again she pauses to breathe. “I’d give that a fucking infinity plus one.”

I can’t help but laugh. “That good?”

“That was. Fuck me. That was. I can’t even begin to think”, she says.

“For me too”,  I say. “I’ve never come that hard before. I thought I was going to fucking explode.”

“I love your come inside me.”

“You love come inside you”, I correct her.

“It’s never felt as good as when you’ve done it though”, she says.

“I’ve only done it twice.”

“Then you must be really good.”

Izzy breathes out a sigh and stretches her arms and legs away from me. “I don’t want to go home”, she says.

“Then don’t”, I say. “You can stay here if you want, I’ve got no plans.”

“I wish I could.”

“Wait, so the boyfriend was real?” I say.

Izzy shakes her head. “It’s not that.”

“Then?”

“RL.”

“What the fuck is that?”

“Real life”, she confirms.

Izzy twists away from my dick to lie in the bed alongside me.

“I like you”, I say, and she smiles.

“Me too. And this.”

She reaches for my cock and my leg jerks out uncontrollably when she gives it a squeeze.

“You want me to reserve it for you?” I ask.

“You might have to.”

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist a round two.”

“That’s not what I came for”, she says.

“No, I know, conversation, getting to know each other, multiple orgasms. I get it.”

“I have to go.”

“You’re going to bail on me again, after all we’ve gone through?” I say.

“Fuck, Rory, I wish I didn’t have to. This is exactly what I need right now.”

“So, what is it?”

“Real life”, she says again.

“Gets in the way, huh?” I offer.

“Always.”

She stays a minute longer alongside me before she gets up with a long sigh and begins to collect her clothes.

“So, that’s it? Or will I see you in a year?” I ask.

Izzy gives me a wry smile. “Do you want to see me again?”

“Are you kidding? I’ve been wanting to see you again for a year and now I finally get to do that, by sheer coincidence, by the way, you bail again. Don’t you think it’s some weird mix of luck and fate that’s brought us back together again?” I say.

She gives a narrow pair of eyes to my intentionally sarcastic comment. “I’m not bailing on you, I just can’t stay, not yet anyway.”

She’s bailing on me, but whatever. If she really has got a boyfriend at home, he’s obviously not giving her what I can. She’ll be back soon enough, I waited a year already, a little bit longer isn’t going to kill me.

“Alright”, I say.

“Seriously, Rory, I-. I wasn’t going to do this. My life is pretty complicated right now, but, you know, fuck you, that was
too
good.”

It makes me laugh and I’m pleased to see Izzy laugh with me. Whatever she’s got going on, it’s obviously not so serious she can’t laugh at herself. Two fucks in and the last thing we want to do is mislabel this.

“Listen, Izzy, it’s cool. Whatever you want to do, I’m cool with it. I’ll be here or there, so whatever, you know, look me up”, I say.

“I’ll make sure I do that.”

“You make sure you do that.”

She’s dressed and by the door, way quicker than I like. I’m still buzzing from the sex and she’s dressed and itching to leave. If this were the other way round, which it has been a number of times for me with other girls, I’d get accused of being a player. If that’s the case, I wonder what it makes Izzy. Casual sex is my go-to card, but this feels way more important that a throwaway fuck, and it isn’t just because of how she makes me feel when we’re doing it.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt more comfortable around a girl than I did in the pub before coming here, and she thinks
I’m
dangerous.

“Bye, Rory O’Connor”, she says.

“Bye, real girl”, I say back.

With the door half open she looks back at me. “See you around.”

“Not if I see you first.”

And then, just like that, the door’s closed and she’s gone.

I’m left, stark bollock naked, a massive, twitching boner, a mini-bar full of tiny bottles of champagne and a feeling of complete and utter disbelief at what’s just happened. Did I just imagine that, or did real girl really come back to me and fuck me all the way into heaven and back?

Five.

Izzy

April’s got a special set of eyes on today. Firm, no-bullshit,
one hundred percent no other choice
eyes. She’s been working on them all week, and right now, they are as intense as I think I’ll ever see them.

“He has a right to know”, she says.

I know he has a right to know. He’s always had a right to know. The problem is, I don’t know how to tell him now.

“You should have told him last week”, April goes on.

She’s firm about this, much more serious than I’ve seen her in a long time. I guess she’s upset I didn’t tell her Rory was back in the first place, or she’s sick of looking after Oscar, sick of me living here maybe. Is this coming to a head? Things have been going well for her and Cory, maybe Cory is the driving force behind this.

“It’s just-, I don’t know, last week was-”, I say, but April doesn’t look all that convinced. “I’ll tell him”, I add, my eyes sinking away from her death stare.

“The longer you leave it, the more upset he’ll be, Iz. How would you feel if it was the other way round and Rory was hiding your son from you?”

“I’m not exactly hiding him, April, I’m just working out the best way to give him the information so he doesn’t freak out.”

And run so far away I never have a chance to repeat that awesome session we had last weekend.

“He’s going to freak out, whichever way you tell him”, April insists.

“Which is why I want to make sure we know each other a little bit more before I do it”, I say.

“He’s that good, huh?”

I can’t help but smile as the memory comes back to me, my cheeks and neck going a little red. I still have the marks where he bit me, that warm feeling like a blanket over my skin.

“Every time I think about what happened it feels like all the butterflies in the world are having a party in my belly”, I say.

April changes her eyes now for one’s that like like they’ve just seen the sad end to a beautiful film.

“Izzy”, she says, her voice tainted with worry.

“What? I like him, I can’t help that”, I say.

“You barely know him”, she says.

“I know what he does to me.”

“Just go easy, okay? I don’t want to have to pick up the pieces afterward. You’ve got different responsibilities now you have Oscar.”

“Come on, April.”

“I’m serious. Men are fucking players, all of them, especially sports stars.”

“Not all men”, I say.

“Yes, all men. Isn’t this the guy that fucked you standing in the puddle next to a dumpster. Don’t you think that could have been anybody?”

“What’s your point?”

I know April’s only looking out for me, but she doesn’t have to do her high and mighty big sister routine just because she’s finally got her shit together enough to make a relationship last for more than a week.

“Just concentrate on the important thing here”, she says. “Look, I know you like him, but first and foremost he’s Oscar’s father. Anything other than that is a bonus, I suppose, but you need to be prepared he’s going to take one look at his son and want to be back on the other side of the world.”

I don’t know how anyone could look at my beautiful, crying and shitting machine and want to run away. That’s just wild assumption.

“I’ll be careful”, I say.

“How
into him
can you be, anyway, after only meeting him twice?” she asks.

“How long did it take you with Cory?”

“Cory and I are in a committed relationship with each other and we don’t have a son that I haven’t told him about. You guys have fucked twice and he’s leaving in a year. You should have told him right before you put his dick in your mouth”, April says coarsely.

She seems to be stressing out about this way more than I am. I guess that unless you know him, Rory seems like a super bad option. Prison for a year, banned from his sport, fucks girls in alleyways for fun, tattoos all over his body, record number of times sent to penalty box in a debut match, record number of broken sticks in one match, I can see where she’s coming from. I know a completely different side, though, even though I still don’t know how he would feel about Oscar.

“Why are you so turned over about it?” I ask.

“I don’t want to see you get hurt, Iz. You’re my best friend and I love you. I love both of you.”

“Even when he keeps you up all night?” I ask.

“Sometimes, even when he keeps me up all night”, April adds.

“I’ll tell him”, I say.

“If you do it here, it’s harder for him to leave.”

“Invite him here?”

April nods. She’s got her scheming eyes on now. “If you do it in public, or over the phone, he can just run away. Do it here, where he can see Oscar, where he can see how you live and how much you need his help”, she says.

“You’re a bad person, April Pearson. But, you’re a good friend. Thank you for looking out for me, I appreciate it”, I say, not entirely convinced it’s a good idea.

“Well someone has to, don’t they? If you’re going to get yourself knocked up in a back alleyway in the lower east side, who else is going to come to your rescue?” she says.

“Is that the end of your firm, big sister eyes now? I’ve had those all week and I don’t think I can cope with them anymore.”

“I’ll put them back in the box”, April says. “But they’ll be coming straight out again if they need to.”

“Okay.”

“Alright, good, now give me a hug before the moment passes.”

Six.

Izzy

There are parts of me that think this is a terrible idea, other parts that think it’s the best idea in the world. Invite itinerant, badly behaved Irish sports star and father of exhibit A, Oscar ‘crying and shitting machine’ Byron to dinner, make sure badly behaved Irish sports star and father of exhibit A, Oscar ‘crying and shitting machine’ Byron is halfway through his dinner and suitably drunk to feel embarrassed at doing anything but staying put, and then present said baby to said sports star just before the dessert is served.

What an earth could go wrong?

April is right, which I hate to admit because she is right so infrequently that when she is she likes to go on about it. Doing it anywhere other than here is just nonsense. We know each other intimately, after all, what would be more appropriate for a third date than a home cooked dinner at a typical New York apartment, full disclosure on a secret baby, and an eye-popping sex session to round off the night?

There is also a bed here. Restaurants and bars and sports venues do not have beds, although I suppose that didn’t stop us in the first place. Whether I want to give Oscar a little brother or sister yet is another matter entirely.

Could you imagine that? So, Rory, welcome to America. This is your son and right here *pointing at already swollen baby* is the next one on the way.

Just a normal day in the office.

April and Cory have made themselves scarce, but have refused to take Oscar with them, which April quite rightly points out is the reason for bringing Rory here in the first place. My idea of seeing how the night goes before dropping the mother of all bombshells clearly isn’t shared by my roomie and part time relationship counselor.

At least Rory seems keen. He says he misses me, which is nice to hear. He says he can’t wait to see me again, but I wonder if that will change when he actually gets here and finds out about our secret.

Oscar has been crying for what seems like a week. He might be teething early, he might be ill, he might just like the sound of his own voice. Neither the doctors nor anyone else but April and I seem to think it’s unusual or anything to be overly concerned with.

Whatever is wrong with him, if this carries on, I won’t be able to hide the secret from anyone in the entire borough of Manhattan, let alone his real Dad.

It’s been a couple of weeks since I saw Rory last, who has continued to make a name for himself in the world of ice hockey. Remarkably, he’s led the Rangers to three victories now, scored in the last two games, and despite his somewhat unorthodox style of play, seems to be winning over fans.

It’s an absolutely incredible story, even more so because half of the time he looks like he doesn’t know what he’s doing. It’s typical Rory, at least it is from what I know about him. The man seems to do everything with a smile on his face, even if it’s pounding seven bells of shit out of his opponent. The funniest thing is, he’ll knock someone on their ass and then help them up so he can do it again. If he gets knocked down, which seems to only happen if the opposition throws two or three players at him, he takes it all in the spirit of the game.

I haven’t seen a player in ice hockey with a better temperament, which makes me think that whatever awful shit went down between him and his dad, it must have taken something serious to finally push him over the edge.

Both of the games he’s played since I saw him last were away from the city, which has been kind of convenient in giving us a natural break. Based on the microcosm that is our relationship so far, two weeks without seeing each other is positively glacial, but I’m keen not to rush into it too quickly, especially if it continues in the incredible way it has begun.

Rushing into something so good would be a mistake, you know, like getting pregnant with someone a minute after meeting them, or inviting them around to dinner to show them their secret baby three weeks after they appear out of nowhere again.

Thirty minutes to go before blast off and I’m seriously having doubts about whether I’m doing the right thing.

I’ve made Irish stew, which on reflection could be a massively inappropriate, overstepping-the-mark, overly-familiar gesture. I bought Guinness too, but I’m hiding it. Three dates in and it feels like we’re already married.

Welcome home honey, how many people did you knock to the ground today? Want to bend me over the table and fuck me rigid with that huge Irish cock of yours, while our fourteen children finish up in the coal mines?

We can have wine like everyone else, and one child is enough for now. I’ll tell him the stew is American, even though I went to four different shops to get the ingredients and then spent three hours cooking it.

Or I’ll cancel the whole thing completely. I still have time. I doubt Rory’s preparation for an evening consists of anything more than a glance in the mirror on the way out of his hotel room, and that’s about it.

That’s exactly what I like about him too. Real men have balls, and I like it when they are big enough to show them. He doesn’t need to hide behind a sheen of expensive aftershave, or a pair or nut squashing trousers. Rory would eat hipsters for breakfast, if they had any nutritional value.

Oscar is up and down like a yoyo, and I’m running out of time. I’ve fed him, so that can’t be it, I’ve changed his diaper twice, so that can’t be it either. I can’t see any teeth in that massive mouth of his, and even if I could there would be nothing I could do about it anyway.

I can’t lock him in the bedroom and it’s slightly unethical to dip the tip of his bottle in whiskey, so I have no idea what to do.

Fuck. Daddy’s coming home in less than half an hour and Oscar is already yelling at him. This is make or break. This is the sports star I’ve always dreamed about having for my very own, about to see the future with a clean set of eyes.

Forget about the money, although that has a practical purpose it’s hard to argue against, and think for a moment about the man. Rory is an incredible human being and even though we’re not very far along in our journey, I really don’t want to fuck it up before we’ve even begun. We could be perfect for each other, as unlikely as it seems and despite all of the things going against us, and I don’t want to spoil that over rebranded Irish stew, warm white wine and a podgy bundle of tears that on any other given day is usually as good as gold.

There’s nothing else for it, I have to phone April.

As soon as I reach for my phone, it begins to ring, shocking me so much I nearly drop it into the stew.

“Don’t do what you’re thinking of doing”, April says.

“How did you-?”

I can picture the look she’s giving me even though I can’t see it.

“It’s eight forty-five, I knew you’d be about to call him”, she says.

“I can’t do it, April.”

“You already are.”

“What if he freaks out?” I say.

“Listen, Iz. You’re doing the right thing. What happens after is up to him and completely out of your control. He has just as much responsibility to Oscar as you do.”

“What if, I don’t know, what if he wants to take him away and all the way back to Ireland?” I say, seriously worried there is a possibility of this happening.

“Seriously?” April says. “Honey, this is America, and Rory has a criminal record. He’s not exactly the ideal parent.”

She has a point although I’m still terrified of the possibility.

“Oscar won’t stop crying.”

“Have you changed him?” she asks.