| |
––––––––
THIS WAS GETTING RIDICULOUS.
I could see the color of the sky changing, going from the inky, purple darkness to a dark blue. It wouldn’t be long before there was white in the sky and my alarm would go off. Then I had to get up, get a quick workout in, drink my protein shake, and get ready for the day.
None of which I wanted to do.
As much as I loved playing baseball, right now, all I wanted to do was lie there and try to figure myself out. There was so much going on in my head, and I couldn’t make sense of it. None of it was going to be easy to work through. And it all compounded on each other.
My family life was a mess, but that wasn’t new. I’d compartmentalized that a long time ago. But the worry that Dad was in some kind of real trouble this time was enough to make me think about it once in a while. I often wondered if his bad decisions would end up affecting me in some way beyond being annoying. If some scout would see my family problems as a liability and not sign me. Something like that.
But I couldn’t concentrate on an abstract like that right now. Not when there was a very real, very present problem going on. One that was driving me absolutely crazy.
I couldn’t stop thinking about Lila.
It was ridiculous. I had practice in a few hours, and I was going to need to be at my top form for this tournament. I needed the rest. So why was my brain not letting go of what happened tonight and all the complicated feelings it brought up? It was confusing. It was aggravating.
It was intoxicating.
Something about Lila had gotten way down deep under my skin. At first, she had been just a friend, a cute one, sure, but a friend. A friend I could talk about baseball with, and then one I was mentoring to get through her classes. We chatted about movies and TV and silly shit. Nothing serious. Nothing that would lead to a relationship beyond friendship. Just mutual fun talk.
But as time went on, I found myself thinking about her more and more. Enough that it intruded on other thoughts. Thoughts that I didn’t want them intruding on. Thoughts about Star.
At first, I was able to brush it off as an anomaly. I hadn’t been with anyone in a while, and Star was being rather more patient than I expected her to be. Not that it bothered me; it was just a surprise. I got the impression from her and how handsy she seemed to be with her artsy friends that physical intimacy was no big deal for her. That if she were in a relationship, a major element would be the physicality.
Yet, none of that had manifested. Which, originally, I was actually kind of pleased with. I liked the idea of getting to know her as a person. About our relationship being more than sex and lust. I thought she was fascinating and funny and weird in the best ways. But after a while, I was still surprised she hadn’t shown much interest beyond kissing.
Then again, I hadn’t really pushed it either. Why was that? Why hadn’t I just gone for it? Why hadn’t I slid my hand under her shirt during one of our rare makeout sessions on the couch? Done something to signal that I wanted to take things to the bedroom?
It always seemed like if that thought did come through my mind, something stopped it. Either it was getting late and I needed to be at my place to get my stuff for the morning, or Star had some project to do. Or the knowledge that Lila was in the next room, her door shut, but her light on. She was awake. I didn’t want her to hear us.
But why? When had that ever stopped me?
It was a lot to think about, and I had shoved it all into the corners of my mind until now. With everything that happened tonight, though, it was all spilling out. Threatening to take over every inch of my thought. To force me to deal with it.
I pressed my eyes shut hard. I had to get the thoughts away and onto something that I could let myself relax with. I tried to think about baseball.
If I had a lefty at the plate, and he had a high zone and ate cutters for breakfast, how would I get him out if he got ahead in the count? Sliders are too much like cutters, just slower. My sinker was good, but you have to set that up with something, and cutter hitting lefties usually see a right-handed change-up coming a mile away. A splitter? Too much like the sink. A curve? It’d have to be the curve. Not twelve-six though, something with an angle. Something with some funk.
My eyes opened, and I groaned. I was no closer to sleeping. And that scenario had been the extent of my ability to distract myself. I didn’t even want to think about baseball anymore.
The only comfort I got was thinking about how comfortable I had been in the bed with Lila. Maybe if I put myself in exactly the same position, it could trigger something. Flailing around for a minute, I finally remembered I had my right hand behind my head, one pillow underneath me to support my neck. The other pillow that had propped me up so I could see the phone had slid under my right shoulder, so I put one there. One leg was turned into the knee of the other, making a figure four.
The only thing missing was Lila.
The weight of her head on my shoulder, slowly drifting to my chest and fitting so perfectly. It had been calming and exciting at the same time in a way I couldn’t even explain to myself. Her breast had been pressed against my ribs, and I could tell she wasn’t wearing a bra under the hoodie she had pulled over her. Why would she? She had been sick.
I wondered how that breast felt outside of that hoodie. How soft and full it would have felt in my hand. How sweet her lips must be. How fantastic her ass had looked in her softball uniform, and how nice it would be to slide my hands over it, to let my fingers dip between her cheeks and inch toward the warm center of her body.
“Stop it,” I said to myself. “Stop.”
I tried to shake it off and think solely about how easily I fell asleep before. What had it been that made it so easy to rest? I needed to get back to that. I needed some sleep before the game.
I started to settle as I thought about how comfortable I had been with her in my arm. I tried to let my mind float into a fantasy, but doing a little extra work. Replacing Lila with Star. Imagining what should have been.
In my vision, Star would be draped over me just like Lila had been. Her blond hair fell over her face as she snuggled into my chest. My cock started to thicken again as I imagined her rolling all the way on top of me, kissing my neck and working her way down. Her hair still covered her face in the way she let it sometimes when she slept on the couch as she tore at my shorts.
I closed my eyes as I let the fantasy fill my mind. One hand slipped down to my cock and pulled it out of the shorts as in my fantasy, her hand began to do the work. I would reach up and slide my hand under her hoodie, pulling it up over her soft, round breasts. They would tumble out in my hand as she released me and yanked on the hoodie herself. It was almost over her head now, pushing her hair back behind her so all my fantasy could see was the hoodie over her head and her exposed chest.
I stroked faster and faster, moaning in the bed as I grew as hard as I had been in a long time.
The hoodie would be pulled all the way up. As it was tossed to the floor, she would yank her head back, letting her brown locks fall behind her.
It wasn’t Star anymore. It was Lila.
And it was too late to stop.
I would pull her toward me, and our lips would crush into each other. While we kissed, she would be pulling down on the uniform pants she was suddenly wearing. She would kick them off, and they would pile onto the corner of the bed. She would crawl onto her side, kissing my chest on the way down as she lay so she could see into my eyes.
She would smile as she reached my cock and slipped it between her lips.
I would groan and let my hand slide down her body until it reached her center. She would be wearing red, lacy panties, and I would slide my fingers inside. She would already be wet, hot, and waiting. She would move her legs so one was propped up and gave me greater access while she stroked me onto her tongue.
I wouldn’t be able to hold myself much longer, and I would swirl my finger over her clit before pushing it deep inside her. She would gasp and moan over my cock, and I would respond in kind. The adrenaline would take over. The need for her, the need for release, the need to claim.
I would pull her over and yank the panties off of her, diving my face between her thighs as she straddled me. My tongue would slide through her folds, and her body would quiver as I brought her to climax. I would squeeze her ass as she came and then begged for me to be inside her.
Rolling her to her back, I would mount her, pulling her legs up and around my waist as I stared deep into her eyes. She wanted me. She wanted me inside her.
I rolled onto my side in the bed, my cock about to explode as I kept my eyes clenched in the fantasy. I pressed my heels into the mattress and arched up as I neared climax myself. And in my vision, I slammed into her.
She would be crying out my name between whimpers. A guttural roar would build in my chest, and her eyes would open wide as she came again. I would be so close, and she could feel it. She wanted it. She wanted my come.
She would beg for it.
Inside her.
My hands would clench over her hips as I slammed into her over and over. And finally, when our voices made harmony and our bodies arched as one, I would explode into her.
In my hand, I squeezed as my essence spilled out, covering the sheet on one side until I was empty. Crumpled in exhaustion and exertion, I reached blindly for the tissues on the nightstand. I would have to leave my sheets to be cleaned. But for now, I was finally tired. Finally feeling like I could sleep.
In the warmth of the glow of my fantasy, with visions of her naked body curled against me in a deep, grinning sleep, I let my body relax into the pillows on the other side of the bed. Slowly, my eyes closed fully, and my breathing slowed. My heart returned to normal.
And I slept. Dreaming of Lila. Kissing her in my sleep, cupping her breast as I held her close, listening to her heart as she dreamed.
