Kim City

Big game ended no more than ten minutes ago. We won so, like always, I find myself with my back pressed up against some ice cold locker with Brick Flagg plowing me like the midnight express to hell. You’d think a nineteen year old lunkhead with all the ‘performance enhancers’ he’s taken would leave his dick shriveled up like some ancient raisin but somehow he can still swing it around just as bad as any black. And the stamina, even after four quarters of getting killed and do some killing himself on that gridiron he comes running in here ready to go all night long. Not that I’d ever do that, this is just for school spirit. One win, one victory fuck, QB only. Seems to work, haven’t lost a game since, guess fucking a globe trotting pseudo-spy gets his rocks off. He keeps slamming into me like he wants to shatter my pelvis, his rock hard head resting on a bed of my own red hair. I can smell sweat, grass, dirt and sex all over him and I keep my best not to show how wet that makes me.

I know what he wants to do, he’s not too bright, he can’t fool me. He wants me distracted, wants me loopy, hoping I’d never see it coming. Nice try stud, you’re good, fuck it, you’re great but I’ll catch it. Balls deep, like always, a hunk of meat almost half the size of my forearm and just as thick going in like a piledriver, hoping to break my snatch like a patch of concrete. He’s working hard to distract me, commendable but it ain’t happening. I see it. That look in his face, that twisted look of lust and joy and anger and focus and whatever else runs around inside that thick skull of his during the dirty deed. I pop myself out before he can even think about pinning it in me and unload. I give him a nice wet kiss for the effort and beat his cock like a runaway slave. Not PC, I admit, but Monique says it all the time when she gives handjobs so it’s okay.

He’s a little disapointed, I can tell just by how his lips move against mine but he gets over it once his load gets spray painted over some poor guy’s locker. He makes the most of it and we make out for a while. Better fuck than a kisser, hands down. No passion in it, all lust and, yeah, there’s a difference. Huge difference. “Gotta run, Brick. Same time next game... if you win.”

He shots me that cocky grin and presses himself against me, crushing that monstrously powerful body up against mine. Shit I can barely keep it together. “When I win.” His breath is wet and foul. Why do I get so fucking moist from a muscle bound alpha douche like him?

I guess I’ll never know and, I hope to god, neither will he. Or I’m as good as owned. “We’ll see.” I squeeze myself away from him and make a stride back to the girl’s locker room. I can see the hate in Bonnie’s eyes, she’s been watching by the door the whole time. “All your’s.” She wants to claw my eyes out and I love every minute of it. Bonnie and Brick have one of those relationships where they’re on and off more times than the school bus and seeing him go so wild for my love box eats her up inside.

I fuck the quarterback just so we can win games but Bonnie, she fucks every last one of those guys because her pussy is a blackhole for cock and jizz. She’ll fuck Brick first, suck him off, take it in the front door, back door, pretty much anyway possible until he’s done. Then she’ll go and fuck the first stringers, the special teams, the second stringers, coach Barkin and, if she can, grab a few of the visiting players for condolence fuck. Makes me pity her, fucking cumbucket.

I get home and home has never really felt like home since I was 15. That’s when I started going out every night to do the heroine thing. It’s also when I saw how truly ugly my family was. My mother, I loved her so much, brilliant woman. Nurse at Middleton hospital, wanted to be a surgeon but things never panned out. Found out her late shifts are on the streets, wearing a different uniform. Disgraceful. I’d tell dad if I didn’t know who was taking 60%. Can’t tell who I hate more anymore. I hide it, I’m the good daughter not like it matters. As long as I don’t cause trouble, they don’t even care what I do anymore.

After a quick shower, I slip on my mission clothes. Big night tonight, suppose to be a break in at the research lab downtown. Dingy place but the guy working there thinks he’s found something big and big science usually means Drakken. I can feel it, I’m going to nail that son of a bitch, hard. Nothing personal, just what I do.