Page 42 of Bad Call
“Crated.”
“Do you want to use my mouth?”
“Undo my pants,” he ordered, stripping off his shirt. My fingers flew to his button, sliding the zipper open as fast as I could. I worked his pants down his hips, helping him to step out of them.
“Stay down there on your knees. I like the way you look down there.”
I swallowed hard. “Now what?”
“Do you have to be told like a damn virgin? Can you not figure out what to do with my cock?”
My own cock kicked in my pants. Peeling his navy briefs down his thighs, I watched his cock, long and hard, spring free, and licked my lips. I looked up. My gaze traveled up his hard body, completely naked, toned, and tan from hours in the sun on the field.
“Like what you see?” I nodded, knowing my gaze was as hungry as his. “Hold your tongue out.” Casey grasped his cock and slapped it against my tongue several times before wiping a bead of pre-cum on it. Then he proceeded to smack my cheeks with his dick. It was humiliating, but I think that was the point. It was meant to be.
“You like being told what to do, don’t you?”
“Only by you.”
“Only me?” He looked satisfied with my answer.
“And only in the bedroom.”
He chuckled. “Do you feel submissive right now? You told me last time you did.”
“Yes.” All the nervous energy in my body gathered in my throat, creating a lump I couldn’t swallow past.
“It makes you feel vulnerable and exposed, doesn’t it? Being in a new role, being at my mercy?”
“Yes,” I breathed out, my voice sounding husky.
“Does it make your cock hard?”
I reached into my pants and pulled it out to show him just how hard it made me. Casey leaned down, taking my face in his strong hands. “Do you want me to humiliate you and degrade you in this bedroom?”
I had to swallow twice before I could answer, my voice coming out in barely a whisper. “Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, Coach.”
“I heard they call you Big City Baylor,” he smirked. “But you don’t look so big right now. Do you feel big?”
“No, Coach.”
“Are you my bitch, Baylor?”
“What?”
He corrected me by smacking me with his cock again. “Are you my bitch?”
“Y-Yes, Coach,” I stuttered. Excitement and heat swirled in my gut, and I wondered what he could possibly have in store for me.
“On the field, we may argue and disagree and yell at each other, but I will not humiliate you and degrade you outside of this bedroom. But when we’re in here, or any bedroom for that matter, you belong to me, Baylor. You’re my bitch. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Coach.” I could already feel the effects of his words and his proposition igniting my body, like an inferno, changing my brain chemistry. I was no longer BigCity Baylor—ladies’ man, big man on campus. I was Baylor the Bitch—Casey’s plaything.
“Open your mouth.” I obeyed immediately, stretching my jaw wide. “I’m going to feed you my cock, and I want you to suck on it—hard, not soft. Just like you did in the hotel room that night.” He caressed my jaw like he was rewarding me. “You sucked me so good, I thought you were a seasoned cocksucker. I never would’ve guessed you were a virgin.” Casey slid three fingers into my mouth, stretching my lips wide. “When I hit the back of your throat, don’t pull away, and don’t bite my cock. You can breathe through your nose, and you can swallow, but don’t pull away. I want to see you gag.” I nodded, fighting the urge to suck on his fingers. “If you start drooling, let it drip. Use it to lubricate my dick. Don’t waste all that drool. I want to see you make a sloppy mess of my cock and your face. No teeth,” he warned before sliding into my mouth.