Page 55 of Bad Call

I followed slowly, not really able to see him clearly until I was standing on the field. This was my ultimate fantasy, to fuck him on the field where we both worked and spent most of our time. On the field where he challenged me, got up in my face and blew his stupid fucking whistle at me, and even ejected me from the game. On the field where, when the lights were turned on, and the seats were filled with fans, Baylor was in charge. He called the shots, and I followed his orders. But when thelights were off, and the stadium was empty, it was my turn to call the shots.

Tonight, I was in charge.

He barked twice, and I was on him in an instant, dropping to my knees behind him. I couldn’t care less about the grass stains on my fancy slacks. I just had to get inside of him.

“I don’t have any lube, so you’ll have to make do.” With that, I spit a big wad of saliva between his cheeks, using the tip of my cock to spread it around his hole. I didn’t even stretch him with my fingers, but I did take my time, pushing my way inside, letting him adjust to the invasion before popping my head through his rim. He cried out when I breached him. I gripped his hips and sank balls deep into his perfect body. Just holding myself still, absorbing the incredible heat of him. The feeling of his inner walls tightening around my cock, spasming around me, almost had me blowing my load right then and there. I had to breathe through my nose slowly until the feeling passed.

“How’s that feel?” I cooed.

“You’re killing me.”

“Good. Brace yourself,” I warned, before slamming my full weight into his body. My balls slapped against my thigh with each thrust. My hips thundered against his body. The smacking sound was loud in the silence, as was our labored breathing. “Who do you belong to?”

“You, Coach.”

“What are you?” I grated between clenched teeth.

“Your bitch.”

I moved my hands from his hips to his shoulders for more leverage, sinking deeper, thrusting harder. Baylor grunted, he moaned, and just before he came without my permission, he cried out my name.

“Fuck, Casey!”

He was going to pay for that.

I came right behind him, pulling out just in time to spray his back. His shirt was ruined, not that I cared. It was just one of many consequences he would suffer tonight—for coming without permission, for calling out my name instead of Coach, and for making me realize I cared more than I wanted to.

Planting my hand on the small of his back, I pushed to my feet and tucked my cock away, zippering my pants. Baylor tried to sit up, but I planted my foot on his back. “I didn’t tell you to get up.”

“Yes, sir.” It’s easy not to feel ashamed or humiliated when you’re horny… well,easier, but afterward, when you come down, the lust is watered down, and those feelings start to creep back in. I wanted Baylor to feel them. I wanted him to drown in them. And then I wanted him to crawl to me on his hands and knees, so I could make him feel better. That was the power exchange that I craved in this dynamic.

I took my time tucking in my shirt, straightening my pants, and brushing the dirt from my knees. I walked around Baylor in a circle, admiring him from all angles. Wisely, he kept his head down, without even needing to be told. Making another circle, I stopped in front of him and backed up several feet.

“Come here, Baylor.” He looked up at me, unsure how to proceed. “Like a dog would,” I explained. I watched his throat slide as he swallowed nervously before crawling toward me. He stopped at my feet and looked up.

I crouched down on my haunches. Cupping his face in my hands, I kissed him slowly and softly. Deeply, and with affection. It was the perfect chaser for my orgasm. When I pulled back, I could barely make out his face, but I saw tears in his eyes track down his cheeks. Swiping them with my thumbs, I kissed his lips again, lightly.

“That was probably the hottest moment of my life. It was a gift. You gave me a gift. Something I’ll remember forever. A fantasy come true. You also gave me something else tonight, but I’ll keep that to myself for now. All I can say is thank you.”

One more kiss on his forehead. I stood and helped him to his feet. More tears chased the ones I wiped away, but it didn’t surprise me. I had made an emotional mess of him. That’s what humiliation and degradation did, fucked with people’s heads, laid their souls bare, and made them doubt everything they thought they knew about themselves. And then reinforced all of that with tenderness and aftercare.

“Why don’t you drive with me, and we’ll come back for your car tomorrow?”

He just nodded, and then Baylor hugged me. My arms came around him instantly, and I hugged him back. “You okay?” The words were just a whisper in his hair. He nodded against my chest. “Let me help you getdressed.” I helped him pull up his pants and tuck his shirt in. When we reached the truck, I even helped him with his seatbelt. He was clearly rattled and probably exhausted. “I feel like stopping for another slushy. How about you?”

“God, that sounds perfect,” he said, followed by a teary sniffle as he tried to get himself together.

“So, what did you wish for?” I asked when we pulled out of the parking lot.

“If I tell you, it won’t come true,” he teased.

CHAPTER TWENTY

BAYLOR

“Coach,who’s the best team in the MLB?”

“The Mariners, of course.”