We’d been together a few weeks when we had a “date” — if you could even call it that — for my little sister’s lacrosse games. She was a freshman at my college and had earned a scholarship to play here.
“Didn’t even know you could get a scholarship for lacrosse, of all things,” Rowan chuckled as he led me to a good spot in the bleachers. It was unseasonably cold outside and he’d packed a blanket for us to share. Since my parents were coming, he’d packed a second blanket to be on his best behavior and make a good impression. Before we sat down, he asked me, “Do you want me to grab you anything? Popcorn, sodas?”
“You know I don’t eat that crap and neither do you,” I laughed. “Just sit down and cuddle with me; it’s fucking freezing out here.”
Rowan sat down next to me; the metal bleachers were so cold they froze my ass even through my leggings. He spread the thick fleece blanket over us and put both of his arms around me. I cozied up and kissed his neck quickly. “Thanks for bringing the blanket; good idea.”
“You know me; full of innovation.” He gave me a squeeze. “When are your parents coming?”
My sister, Clare, caught my eye as she came out onto the field. She gave me an excited wave. I waved back and said. “They run late to everything; I’m sure they’ll be here sometime shortly after the whistle blows.”
“Your sister’s cute.”
“Don’t get any ideas.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He kissed my cheek. “Plus, I already have plenty of other ideas in my head.”
“Oh, yeah? Care to share with the class?”
“I think I’ll keep my cards close to my chest for now.”
“As long as you also keep ME close to your chest.” I nestled in closer to get more of his body heat. “I’m sure you’ll reveal all your grand plans later, anyway. We were going to stay at yours tonight, right?”
He kissed the top of my head. “Right.”
Our team huddled around with the coach, who was a family friend of ours. Coach Elliott. I’d known him since I was a kid; I even went out with his son back in middle school. Clare was his right-hand player. She’d probably be captain of the team in a couple years.
The game began and Rowan’s eyes practically glazed over. I kept as close to him as possible and joked, “Not exactly a lacrosse fan, huh?”
“I don’t mind lacrosse, but I’m a little occupied mentally.”
Underneath our blanket, his hand took mine. He moved it to his cock, which was hard underneath his jeans.
“Why would that be?”
“You just look so fucking hot in your parka.”
I shoved him. “You’re so dumb.” Trying to be sly, I lightly rubbed his erection under the blanket. “We should get that taken care of before my parents get here, though.”
He gave me a pointed look. “There really isn’t anywhere we can go here.”
I muttered in his ear, “How about under the bleachers? A little old school but it’ll get the job done.”
“We’ll freeze to death.”
“We can keep each other warm.”
“Alright, I’m convinced.” He laughed, “You are always full of surprises, Hol.”
We stood up and scooted past our row of half-hearted supporters. I wasn’t sure anyone really went to lacrosse games at liberal arts schools unless they had a kid or sister playing. Rowan led me by the hand around the back of the bleachers. They were collapsible bleachers, so one side was completely open to the chain-link fence that bordered the field. Nobody was really around, though. Every once in a while someone shuffled past quickly, trying to get out of the cold as soon as possible.
Rowan moved to lay down but I stopped him. I dropped down onto my knees. He sucked in a sharp, turned on breath. “Are you sure? I know you like to be more in control during blowjobs and I don’t want you to be-”
“I’m sure. I trust you.”
We’d only been together a few weeks, so I was still getting used to taking his girth down my throat; thus, I’d been doing blowjobs with him on his back so I didn’t accidentally choke myself too hard. Sometimes it hurt to open my jaw so wide, but it was worth it to look up at him and see that almost helpless expression on his face as he reveled in it.
He bent over and kissed me tenderly. I kissed him back, gave him a play slap, and said, “Get to it, then, it’s fucking cold out here.”
“Ever the romantic.”
Before standing back up, Rowan lovingly brushed my cheek with his thumb. He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and kissed me one more time.
And then he unzipped his jeans and put his cock in my mouth. And all pretense of the sweet, touching Rowan evaporated in the heat of my mouth. I got his dick wet with some long licks up and down his shaft. I tried to keep him in my mouth as much as possible since it was so cold out. I bobbed back and forth, enjoying the feeling of his cock sliding between my lips and over my tongue.
Rowan put his hand into my ponytail. Not shoving, not forceful, just reassuring and gentle. That constant pressure relaxed me into the rhythm of sucking him. After heating up my hand underneath my sweater, I took his balls and massaged them the way I’d discovered he liked most. Just firm enough to add a little bit of squirm to him.
His fingers flexed in my hair and I felt his hips twitching as he tried to stay still while I sucked him off. With a little, satisfied smirk on my face, I pulled back and said. “I can tell you’re being careful. Just take me. Use my mouth. I want it.”
He looked down at me, at his giant cock next to my face, my wide-open eyes, begging for it, and knew he didn’t have to double-check. I opened up my mouth for him, sticking my tongue out slightly, playfully.
“Fuck, Hols, that’s hot.”
I laughed a bit. “Take a picture; it’ll last longer.”
He gave me a pointed look and reached for his phone. He put the tip of his cock on my tongue and then slapped it against my cheek a few times. “Maybe I will then.”
“Wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it,” I said softly. The thought made me both nervous and excited. “Why don’t you film me and we can watch it later?”
“Deal. Jesus.”
He couldn’t wait another second. He clicked the video on his phone and shoved his cock into my mouth. I looked up at the camera lens with my best ‘blowjob eyes,’ which I’ve been told are excellent. I relaxed down onto my knees as he grew rougher with me. It was counterintuitive, maybe, but the harder he fucked my face and the more I gagged, the more content and relaxed I felt with him. It felt like he was in control and I didn’t need to worry about anything going wrong.
My eyelids drifted closed as I listened to the sound of him hitting the back of my throat over and over again. The head of his dick brushed my uvula then went along the ridge of the roof of my mouth before sliding out, avoiding my teeth as I stayed slack-jawed and wanting.