Page 13 of 1st and 10 (Season of Change #1)

I close my eyes, run my fingers through my wet hair, rinsing the soap and enjoying the hot water running over my tired body.

The last two weeks have been exhausting…

and some of the best of my life. I’ve spent most of my waking hours hovering around Phia as she recuperates, only leaving when she shoos me to workout or attend practice.

We had a bye week following her… attempted murder.

The words taste bitter on my tongue, but let’s call a spade a spade.

Or in this case, a felony a felony. It’s funny in the most unfunny way possible, how slow the wheels of justice typically move, unless an internationally recognized university, a well-known NCAA football coach and conspiracy to commit murder and attempted murder charges all walk into a bar together.

I’ve got whiplash from the speed in which these wheels of justice have been moving.

Of course, that has everything to do with Mrs. Haylee Dalton. Phia’s father contacted their local attorney, and they recommended Dalton. Best decision he ever made. That woman is a shark, and she scents blood in the water. Excellent lawyer, kind of terrifying, but thankfully, she’s on our side.

The university is fighting alongside the D.A.

and Dalton. It seems Heacock had them over a barrel because of his contract.

He probably paid off several people who attempted to come forward due to his behavior, so the university’s hands were tied as they had no actual witnesses or complainant. Like I said…weasel.

Some good news is Brandon Beiler was named interim head coach for the remainder of the season, but we all know it will be made official before next season.

He’s a good man and an exceptional coach.

He has the loyalty of not only his players, but the entirety of the coaching staff and athletic faculty.

Phia and I spent the first week after she was discharged at her parents’ place.

It was hard to watch her struggle; headaches, vomiting, dizziness, fatigue.

I hated how little I could do for her. I held her every night on her tiny twin mattress in her childhood bedroom and did my best to keep her demons at bay while she slept.

The nightmares were unsettling and filled me with impotent rage.

My only outlet was running miles around her hometown and humoring her dad when he put me to work around their house.

I am now well-versed in home-repair, painting, and pressure washing.

My parents and sisters came over to meet Phia and show their support.

They ended up staying two nights as well.

So far, everyone is getting along nicely.

And my Phia has been spoiled rotten by our dads, both moms doting on her, and my sisters nagging her with question after question about being a young adult woman.

Apparently, mom is not qualified to answer such queries since she’s “super old” and I have outdoor plumbing which excludes me from even being in the room.

Phia confessed that her mom hasn’t always been touchy-feely, though she always knew she was well loved.

It was a novelty to experience hugs and forehead kisses and home-cooked food on demand.

She basked in the love shown to her and has made a complete recovery.

She had a one-week check-up with her primary care doctor, and he was pleased with how well she’s bounced back.

I would give anything to go back in time and keep her from being attacked.

However, the silver lining is how close she and I have grown over the last couple weeks.

I loved her before, I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her, wanted to fill her up with my babies and grow old with her.

Witnessing her strength and resilience first-hand…

humbling. It is a blessing to be hers. A privilege to own her heart.

An honor to walk beside her in this life and hopefully the next.

Shit. I’ve got to stop thinking about her, my cock is eager to get back where it belongs between her thighs, but I’ve been holding back to give her time to recover.

I know the doctor said she was good, but I don’t want to hurt her.

I’m afraid that if my bare cock gets anywhere near her snug pussy, I won’t be gentle.

Every time I think of how close I came to losing her, I’m practically feral.

I tie a towel around my waist and grab another to start drying my hair.

Stepping out of the bathroom of her apartment, I walk barefoot down the hall to her bedroom.

We’ve been here for almost a week. Beiler found us an hour after we returned and informed me that I would be running laps if I was even a minute late for practice that evening.

When I reminded him that I had quit the team, he claimed he didn’t hear any such thing.

He trusted Phia and I were well rested and ready to get back to work.

My teammates, minus those currently in jail, have rallied around Phia and me.

They’ve stopped by in droves to visit and offer help in recovery, and food.

Piles and piles of food. My boy Gill, though, took Phia for walks around the campus while I caught up on schoolwork and workouts.

The two of them have developed an interesting friendship.

I could do without them ganging up on me though.

I cross the threshold of the bedroom, towel over my head. I toss it to the pile next to the hamper because it tickles me how frustrated she gets when I do it. Like an angry little bunny. I stop suddenly, the sight before me straight out of my dreams.

Phia. Naked. On her knees. Big tits proudly on display, dark beaded nipples pointing right at me, begging for my tongue.

“Phia.” I whisper her name, unsure I’m not currently asleep and dreaming this beautiful breathtaking view.

She stretches her arms in front of her and makes grabby hands with a pout, making me chuckle.

I step closer, despite my brain screaming to abort.

Within her reach, she latches onto my hips and drags me closer.

Yanking on the towel, it drops from my waist, my heavy cock dripping with anticipation for whatever she has in mind.

Looking up at me, Phia grips my shaft with one hand and holds it against my abdomen so she can lick up the underside along my prominent vein.

“Wh-what are yo-you doing?” I stutter through, every muscle in my body coiling with tension as she worships my hungry cock.

“Sucking your cock.”

“Uh-huh. Is that wise?”

She laughs around my girth, the vibration a lovely addition to the wet heat of her mouth. “I’d like to think blow jobs are always a wise decision.”

“Yeah, they are. Just…I’m torn between fucking your throat and wrapping you in bubble wrap.” The fact I strung that many words together coherently is a miracle. Her mouth suctions as she swallows my length, her plump lips stretched obscenely around me.

She releases me with a lick around the crown. “I’m not your cum slut right now. I’m just your devoted girlfriend, seeing to your pleasure, and relaxing you before the big game.” Ok. I can work with that.

“Sit up on your knees.” She obeys with a smirk, thrusting her tits out knowing what I want. I thumb each nipple before pinching them. She moans, gives me a wink and goes back to polishing my knob like it’s the royal jewels.

“Are you relaxed yet, for the game?” She pauses minutes later, with an obnoxious victorious smile.

“What game?”