Author: Alexa Land
Category: LGBT
Go to read content：https://onlinereadfreenovel.com/alexa-land/page,7,529414-all_in.html
The announcer’s voice came over a hidden loudspeaker, and I quickly made up a plate at the buffet and took my seat. Dante grabbed a couple cold beers out of a mini fridge and told me as he sat down beside me, “If you want anything from the regular concessions, we can call the concierge. He’ll bring you whatever you want.”
“Heaven. Absolute heaven,” I murmured, and put my head on Dante’s shoulder as I picked up his hand.
“I’ve never known anyone that liked a sport so much. I’ve never known anyone that liked anything so much,” Dante said.
“It’s not just a sport. It’s football.”
He grinned at that. “So, you played in high school?”
“Yup, all four years. College, too. For three whole weeks anyway. I went to Stanford on a full football scholarship. But I destroyed my knee not even a month into my freshman year, and came right back home again.”
“God, I’m sorry,” he said.
I just shrugged. “It is what it is. I’ve had a few years to get over it.”
“What position did you play?”
“Tight end.”
A huge smile spread across Dante’s face. “You’re shitting me. That’s not a real position, is it?”
I burst out laughing. “Wow. You seriously do not know jack shit about football.”
“No, I really don’t. Now tell me, is that a real position?”
I just started laughing again, so Dante pulled out his smartphone, and after a minute of tapping on his screen he said, “Well, I’ll be damned.”
That just made me laugh even more. And then I joked, “So what will you be doing for the next three hours while I watch the game?”
“I’ll be watching you watch the game.” He looked really pleased with that prospect.
“Oh no. See, if you’re going to hang with me, it’s vitally important that you learn to love football. You don’t have to love it as much as I do, but you do have to love it. And that means actually watching the game.”
I’d been teasing him, but he looked concerned and pulled out his phone again. After a couple taps on the screen, he read, “Each team gets four tries, or ‘downs’ to—”
I plucked the phone out of his hands and kissed him before telling him, “You don’t need that. You have me.”
“Oh no. I’m not going to distract you with my stupid questions. I want you to enjoy the game.”
I snuggled against him and said, “Oh I will, guaranteed.” The teams were taking the field, and I took his hand and said quietly, “I’m so glad you brought me here. I used to come here all the time with my dad, and later with Jamie. There are a lot of bittersweet memories in this stadium. I’m so glad I’m making new memories with you.”
Dante tried hard to feign interest throughout the first half. I thought that was incredibly sweet. At halftime, he turned to me wide-eyed and asked, “Who’s winning?” And then he smiled at me cheerfully. I smiled too and planted a big kiss on his lips, and then he asked, “How long do we have for intermission?”
“Halftime, not intermission. And we have about fifteen minutes.”
“That’s it?”
“Yup.”
“Ok, I can make it work,” Dante said with a big grin, standing up and pulling me to my feet with him.
“Make what work?” I asked as he towed me into the private bathroom with him and closed the door behind us.
“I want to make sure this is your best experience ever at this stadium,” he said. And then he got on his knees in front of me.
“Oh holy shit,” I murmured as he unzipped my jeans and slid them and my boxer briefs down to mid thigh, then licked my cock. It instantly sat up and took notice. “Wow, are you really going to --- ahhhh,” I moaned as he took my cock in his mouth to its base and sucked me, gently at first, but soon with increasing urgency.
In just a matter of minutes I was yelling and shooting down his throat, both hands braced on the walls of the bathroom. Dante kept sucking me as he caressed my balls, and when I finally finished, he pulled up my underwear and jeans and zipped me up again. Then he stood up and glanced at his watch. “Nine minutes,” he said with a satisfied grin. He winked at me and left the restroom.
It was a solid minute before my legs stopped shaking and I could actually follow him back to our seats. When I sank down beside him, I pulled him to me and kissed him, and then I said, “The score is two-zip.”
“No it’s not. It’s fourteen-six, Forty Niners.”
“Not the football game,” I said with a smile. “You’ve now made me cum twice, and I have yet to reciprocate.”
“I’m not keeping score.”
“I am.”
“Game’s about to start,” Dante said, tilting his head toward the field.
“I know. I don’t care,” I said, sliding my hand up his thigh.
He scooped up my hand and kissed it, and said, “Yes you do. And no way am I letting you miss a minute of this game.”
I sighed and said, “Fine. But tonight, I want a chance to even the score.” I tucked my feet up onto my seat and put my head on his shoulder, still holding his hand. After a minute I asked, “I’m curious why you did that in there and not out here. This is really private, no one is at the right angle to see in.”
“No one except for the TV cameras with their zoom lenses. Haven’t you ever noticed the shots of celebrities and VIPs inside the skyboxes during televised sporting events?”
“Oh.” I sat up straight for a moment. “That didn’t occur to me.” I mulled it over for a moment, then put my head back on his shoulder. “Wait, you don’t watch football. How did you know about that?”
“I Googled ‘how private is a skybox at an NFL game’ beforehand. You know, just in case we decided to do what we just did.”
I was still chuckling as the second half got under way.
That night when we finally returned to my apartment (following a Niners victory!), I was randy as hell and determined to even the score. I pushed Dante up against the wall of my apartment and kissed him deeply, and when we finally broke apart, he smiled and plucked the big foam finger off my right hand. Before leaving the stadium, he’d loaded me up with souvenirs. Apparently he was under the impression that I’d actually need stuff to remember the best night of my entire life.
He pulled my new Niners sweatshirt off over my head, and my polo shirt came off along with it. And then he was peppering my shoulders and chest with kisses and sexy little nips as his hands moved to my jeans.
Dante somehow got me stripped completely naked in under a minute, and once again, he remained clothed. He maneuvered me to the bed as he continued to kiss and caress and nibble on me, and we fell back with him on top of me as his thigh slid between my legs, parting them. I rolled over on top of him and said, “It’s my turn to pleasure you tonight,” as I pulled both his sweater and t-shirt off over his head. “Oh wow,” I murmured appreciatively at the sight of his big, muscular body, his olive skin golden in the soft light, and then dipped my head down to kiss and lick his neck and shoulders.
He ran his hands down my back and cupped my ass, squeezing it gently. And then he spread me slightly and traced a fingertip between my butt cheeks, grazing the outside of my opening.
That had me up like a shot. Before I even realized what I was doing, I was standing a couple feet away from the bed, fidgeting nervously. Dante propped himself up on his elbows and gave me a little half-smile as he said, “So, I take it you don’t like that.”
“Um…I don’t know. I could like that, I suppose. If it didn’t scare the bajeezus out of me.” God, I sounded like an idiot.
He sat up and said, “I assume that means you’ve never bottomed before.”
“I’ve never topped, either,” I admitted. I knew it made me sound hopelessly naïve to be this inexperienced at my age, but I had to be honest with him.
Dante slid out of bed and took me in his arms, hugging me gently. “So, you and Jamie never….”
“Got farther than oral.”
“As far as you’re willing to take me.” I was almost dizzy with panic, but I was absolutely determined to overcome my fear.
“We can take this really slowly, Charlie. I wasn’t planning to have sex with you tonight anyway. I was just going to finger you.”
My body shook when he said that, fear and arousal wrapped up one in the other. It took some effort to find my voice again, and finally I managed, “I’ve…um…I’ve never had anything in me.” Damn, there was that hopelessly naïve thing again.
He paused once more, probably trying to make sense of me. After a moment he asked softly, “Would you let me penetrate you?” All I could manage was a nod. “That scares the hell out of you,” he observed quietly. “But you’d still let me do that to you?” Another nod. I held on to him tightly and kissed his shoulder. My entire body was still trembling. God, he must think I was a complete basket case.
And I just couldn’t explain it to him. I couldn’t find the words to tell him how much sex had always terrified me, how the idea of being penetrated, even though a part of me longed for it, filled me with fear and panic. Well, probably I didn’t actually need to explain that to him. He was seeing it for himself right now.
“Do you want to try that tonight? Or do you want to wait?” He was so sweet, so patient.
“Please,” I began, before my voice ran out.
“Please wait?” he guessed.
I shook my head no, and made myself say, “I don’t want to wait. I want this.”
He pulled back to look at me, and caressed my cheek. “Are you sure? If you’re not ready, there’s no hurry.”
“I need to do this,” I whispered as I hugged him to me. “I need to get past my fear. And I know you won’t hurt me.”
He held me for a long moment, and then he took my hand and brought me back to the bed. I lay down on my back and looked up at him, swallowing the tightness in my throat. “I’m going to get a couple things, angel. You wait here.” And he went into the bathroom.
I got up and pulled aside the big, downy comforter, and then crawled back into bed, lying on the soft, dark blue sheets on my stomach, hands beneath my head. You can do this, I told myself, trying to give myself a pep talk. So what if you’re afraid? That’s not an excuse anymore, remember?
Dante was back a minute later, and set a couple things on the mattress as he sat beside me, so close his hip rested against my side. The contact was a comfort, and I reached out and caressed his bare thigh. He’d stripped down to just a pair of boxers. He stroked my back gently, soothingly. And he said softly, “I think you’d like this best if I was holding you while I fingered you.”
I nodded in agreement and slid over, and he climbed into bed and lay back against the pillows. I wasn’t sure what to do, but he held his arms out to me and I crawled on top of him, straddling his thighs and laying down on his chest, most of my weight borne on my knees and elbows. And then his strong arms were around me, holding me securely. “You sure you want to do this tonight, Charlie?” His voice was so soft.
“Yes. You’re going to take good care of me. I know you will.”
“Oh angel,” he whispered, and he held me to him, kissing my hair, my cheek. I raised myself up and my mouth found his, and he kissed me deeply. I parted my lips for him and his tongue stroked mine, and arousal stirred deep within me.
After a few minutes of kissing and caressing, his hand slid down my back, his movements slow and intentional. He was trying not to startle me. My heart flip-flopped as he took hold of one of my cheeks and spread me gently. And then the fingertips of his other hand massaged up and down my crack, grazing over my opening. Just breathe, I told myself, as his fingertip began to lightly circle my hole.
Dante kept this up for a while, and as I calmed down a little I marveled at his patience. Finally, he picked up something from the mattress, and I turned my head to see what he was doing. He held up a pump bottle of lotion where I could see it, one arm around my waist. And then deftly, with one hand, he dispensed a little lotion into his palm, then set the bottle back down and closed his hand around the white liquid. It occurred to me after a moment that he was warming it up.
He slid his other hand back down to my butt and spread me again, and I wrapped my arms tightly around his shoulders. I felt the cream being applied to my opening, and then he was gently pushing inside me. A little sound escaped me, almost a whimper, and I probably would have been mortified at that if I’d had the capacity to be anything besides terrified just then.
When just his fingertip was in me, he held his hand still and let me get used to it. And then slowly, slowly, he worked his finger into me. I went right on clinging to him, my face pressed into his shoulder, taking comfort in him. Which maybe was odd, since he was actually what was causing me distress right now.
Once his finger was deep inside me, he held his hand still again and asked softly, “You doing ok, Charlie?” When I nodded, he started sliding his finger in and out of me. And it felt…good, I realized. Really, really good.
This was a revelation, and I exhaled slowly. I hadn’t even been aware that I’d been holding my breath. My body relaxed on top of this, and I slid my knees apart, allowing him better access to me.
When he felt me relax, Dante began working my hole a little harder, twisting his finger around inside me. I gasped with surprise and jumped a little when he grazed my prostate and sent a jolt of pleasure through my body. “Do you like that?” he whispered.
“Yes.” I moaned when he found that spot again and began rubbing it. Oh God, it was so good. And it was a turning point, fear totally crowded out by lust. I braced my hands on the headboard and rocked back onto his hand, trying to take him deeper, and he started fingering me a little harder.
I threw my head back and bucked on his hand, and in the next moment I was crying out and cumming all over Dante’s chest and stomach, my rock hard cock totally untouched. I just kept spurting and spurting, and he kept milking me by rubbing that spot inside me. I think I was yelling, “Yes, yes,” as he worked me, carrying me through to the end of my orgasm. And when finally it ebbed, he eased out of me slowly, carefully, and I collapsed on top of him, sweaty and gasping for breath. “Oh God – that was – so intense,” I managed between gasps.
I was totally spent after that, and Dante rolled me onto my back. He picked up a towel that he’d brought from the bathroom and wiped the cum from my body, then swiped a clean corner of the towel over my opening. It was a surprisingly intimate gesture, and I laughed nervously. Which was probably silly, considering how intimate we’d been just moments before.
He went to the bathroom and cleaned himself up, and by the time he got back to bed, although it was only a minute later, I was almost asleep. But I pried my eyes open as he gathered me into his arms, and I murmured, “Damn it. Three-zip.”
He chuckled softly and said, “I’m still not keeping score.”
I nestled against him and whispered, “Thank you for doing that for me, and for being so patient and understanding. I was so afraid of that, but it ended up being so good.”
Dante pulled the blanket up to my shoulders and kissed the top of my head, and I wrapped my arms around him tightly as he said, “It was my pleasure.”
“You’re wonderful,” I murmured, sleep closing fast. “You make me feel so good. And I’m not just talking about sex.” I nuzzled his shoulder and told him softly, “I’ve never felt more safe, more secure than I do right at this very moment.”
And right before I fell asleep, Dante whispered, “Neither have I.”
Chapter Six
I was pleasantly surprised to find Dante in my kitchen the next morning, and I exclaimed, “You stayed!”
He smiled apologetically and said, “Well, no. I went home after you fell asleep. But I borrowed your keys and let myself back in this morning. I hope that’s ok.”
I crossed the room to him and grabbed him in a hug and smiled up at him as I said, “It’s so much better than ok.” He kissed me and I sunk into it before realizing I hadn’t brushed my teeth yet, and then I stepped back self-consciously. I now noticed that he was showered and neatly dressed in black pants and a black button-down shirt, the collar open and the cuffs rolled back. “God you look sexy,” I murmured, before turning and fleeing to the bathroom. “Don’t go anywhere,” I called over my shoulder. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
I brushed my teeth and showered quickly, then hurried back to the kitchen wearing nothing but a towel. “You’re cooking,” I said with a grin as I jumped up on the counter and watched what he was doing. He was chopping vegetables with chef-like dexterity, the knife a blur in his big hand. “And judging by those knife skills, you look like you’re really good at it.”
He grinned and said, “I don’t know about that. I just enjoy it. You can tell me if I’m any good after you taste this omelet.”
I reached into the cupboard behind me and pulled out a mug, and poured myself some coffee as I watched him. “There’s something so hot about a man that can cook,” I said with a smile.
He laughed at that. “Is there?”
“Definitely.”
“Do you cook?”
I took a sip of coffee, then said, “Oh yeah. I make a mean Pop Tart. And I can pour a bowl of cereal like nobody’s business.”
He smiled at that, then kissed my forehead on his way to the stove. “In that case, you can make breakfast tomorrow.”
“Deal.”
There was a (new) skillet heating on the stovetop, and he slid the vegetables off the cutting board into the pan, then grabbed the handle and tossed the pan’s contents in the air a couple times, coating them in olive oil. “Ok, that’s it. Our relationship is officially totally unbalanced,” I said as I hopped off the counter and came up behind him and slid my arms around his waist. “You’ve bought me furniture, you’ve taken me out, and our sex score stands at three-zip. And now on top of that, it turns out you have mad skills in the kitchen. I bring nothing to this relationship.”