He closed the door quietly, then pushed me hard against it and kissed me passionately. As we
kissed, our lips moved in a mutual rhythm. I felt a kind of vital, physical force in my belly; all misgivings and hesitance were gone. He kissed me softly, again and again, coaxing my back a step at a time. I felt the mattress at the back of my knee and sat. I was on John Abbey’s bed again. Since we’ve been hanging out for a while, I forgot that he was famous-ish for long stretches. I knew those stupid courtesan groups would hate me if they could see what was happening between us.

I shoved the petty, pleasing thought aside as he cupped my jaw and kissed my lips. The moment he unclasped my bra, he lowered himself to his elbows, cupped me, and brought his mouth to my nipple. My flesh pulled tight, and a sigh fled my throat as I struggled to process the sensation. I was
more than ready to succumb to my desire. His fingertips dipped inside the band of my skirt, dragging back and forth. I let him strip me completely naked, and my insecurities burned away by the heat in his eyes.

Then he started driving his cock in and out of my mound. I couldn’t help but marvel at his weight as he knelt between my legs. John’s body was the most exciting thing I’d ever seen, tight with desire and undulating with this basest of labours. The intrusion drew a moan from my chest. He was silent for the first handful of thrusts, then his eyes met mine, and a low groan warmed the air between us. He moved with practised ease, and my excitement coiled tighter and tighter until the sensation burst and flooded; the orgasm left me shaking and panting beneath him.

His hips hammered me hard for a flurry of thrusts, and then he, too, gave in. Since we had just had a hot, steamy and sexy night, I thought we would spend some time cuddling and whispering into each other’s ear, but to my surprise and disappointment, he asked me to dress up and leave, because he was expecting some guests and wouldn’t want them to see me.

Quietly, I picked up my handbag and left; I was not annoyed because that had been the routine
for months since we’d been seeing each other. Sometimes it makes me feel like I’m his sex toy, but I try to make myself believe he would change and see me differently—as someone with whom he could spend the rest of his life.

I’d been crushing on John for a very long time before I finally took the courage to ask him out; it was easy to talk to him since I was one of his club cheerleaders. Even though he didn’t give me a definite answer, I found myself warming his bed now and then. I knew I made myself cheap, but having an affair with a highly respected football player, who constantly has millions of people wearing jerseys with his name on the back, made me overlook it.

I love John for who he is. His energy while on the field, charisma, and physique are everything to me, coupled with the fact that he is a great lover. No matter how hard I tried, I knew John was not going to love me. I knew he was seeing other women as far as he was concerned, I was one of those girls interested in his fame and wealth.

Giving my body, knowing that nothing would come out of it, but hoping at the same time that something would, wasn’t very smart but I don’t regret it. What’s that thing they say again? “It was nice while it lasted.” I knew it was time for me to move on; I couldn’t keep up with the idea of being his sex toy forever. I was ready for a new beginning, but my plan came crumbling when I found out I was pregnant.

Dorcas Akintoye
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Dorcas Akintoye is a versatile writer with a passion for beauty, fashion, relationships, and culinary delight. With a keen eye for detail and a passion for storytelling, she adds a touch of elegance to every topic she explores. She is a writer at THEWILL DOWNTOWN.