Huddles and Harmonies (part 4)

7

Cadence

Chapter Rating: NC-17 (fantasies, dry-humping)

TW: mentions of periods

Practice the next day was brutal.

Several players had tested positive for anabolic steroids and were subsequently put on probation. Though I didn’t see why Coach Elmers was punishing the few who didn’t pop on the tests. Try-outs were announced to replace the missing players. No one could try out without taking a piss test first, so it was slow-moving. They said they didn’t care about booze or weed, but many students abused stimulants and party drugs.

The few that did try out weren’t anything to write home about. Tommy Enuk could throw well but he was an uncoordinated runner. He crashed into everyone and fumbled the ball more than he caught it. Geoffrey Jamison had an ego bigger than his ability to actually tackle someone. I just stared at him with a furrowed eyebrow as he tried unsuccessfully to drag me down.

On a break, I texted Heather.

Kiaran: these try-outs are driving me mad. Hope you’re having a better night, lass [pink heart]

Heather: not really. I’m regretting choosing this Chopin piece.

Heather: the Halloween party is a green-light. Don’t know what my costume will be yet

Thinking about her in costumes was a dangerous thought. To ward off such fantasies, I thought of unsexy things, like twisted ankles and compound fractures. One of the fellow linebackers got degloved one season and I had the unfortunate front row seat to the mangled hand.

Kiaran: what about an angel? Because you sing like one [angel emoji]

That was cheesy, but she’d appreciate it.

Heather: hmm, I don’t know. My thoughts lately have been anything but angelic [devil emoji]

My brain short-circuited from that message. Did she have those thoughts about me?

Heather: ; P guess that happens when you date a handsome jock

I blew out a breath. I wasn’t the best at taking compliments. I knew I was easy on the eyes, but being told as much by your crush was…a lot.

Kiaran: you’d look good in anything, lass

Part of me wanted to add “and nothing,” but that was a bit too much.

Heather: so would you. You just need to go shirtless and you’d win every contest ; P

Now I was thinking about her shirtless. I shook my head, getting back into training mode.

Practice resumed. We had one promising tryout for running back. Pedro Quintillaz was fast, agile, and could evade tackles well enough. But then some drama happened.

Andrew Washington had shown up in the bleachers to watch practice, which was against probation and he knew it. He had already lost some muscle mass since his steroids were confiscated by police. Students avoided him on the bleachers. He was that unlikable.

“Son, you know good and damn well you are not allowed on or near the field.” Coach Elmers yelled.

“I can’t even watch?” Washington complained.

“You know, this is a great time to focus on your studies since you are also on academic probation. Why don’t you go to the library, son? I’m sorry, but you aren’t allowed on the field.”

Washington stormed off and practice resumed once more. Somehow, I doubted he was headed for the library.

Coach Elmers had a fatherly approach to coaching us all, though he wasn’t above putting us through our paces. He had mediated with all the players who had been caught, attempting to get some leniency. But the rules for performance-enhancing drugs were clear, even if we weren't a division-ranking school: zero tolerance.

“O’Driscoll! Quit daydreaming and get your head in the game!” he snapped at me. “Peters, put your damn helmet back on! I will make all of you sit through those concussion lectures again until your eyes are bleedin’! I don’t want to see any of you wheeled into an ambulance!”

“There’s a goddamn spider in my helmet!” Peters complained. “UGH!”

He flung the spider onto the ground and stomped it.

“Hey, maybe you’ll turn into Spiderman and actually save a fumble for once.” Westly Lester goaded him.

“Maybe you’ll suck my nuts, creampuff.” Peters clapped back.

It wasn’t malicious like Washington had been. We often got annoyed and threw diatribes back and forth, but quite a few of us were friends off the turf. Though sometimes, they went too far.

“Lucky Charms over here is distracted thinking about his PAWG.” Vinny Cortinello joked.

"Dude." Peters warned him. "All the grass on this field and you still haven't touched any."

“’PAWG’?” I questioned, unfamiliar with the acronym.

“Phat ass white girl.” Vinny answered with a salacious grin.

Something in that smile creeped me the fuck out.

“Don’t fucking call her that, dude.” I told him with finality.

"Vinny, I'mma kick your ass, you keep on." Peters said.

“I’m just saying, baby has got some back!” Vinny continued.

“Boy, shut your dumb ass up!” Peters admonished him. “What is this, seventh grade? Don’t be talking like that about dudes' girlfriends!”

“What, I can’t appreciate—” Vinny began, but I was miffed.

I threw the ball at him hard, hitting him square in the chest. He doubled over. We wore protective pads, but I bet it still stung. Coach blew his whistle, look deeply annoyed.

“Alright, I’m not gonna get anything more out of you lot tonight. Hit the showers. Fair warning, you’re gonna hate me this weekend!” Coach Elmers scolded us.

I went into the locker room, opening my locker, and checking my phone. Heather had texted me five minutes ago.

Heather: hey, baby. [red heart] want to come over tonight? trish is out.

Kiaran: I'll meet you in about 30 mins. [kissing emoji]

*

I headed over to Heather’s apartment after I showered so we could work on the English assignment. I changed into a Henley and some black joggers, not wanting to wear jeans. She opened the door after I knocked...

…and I lost all ability to speak.

She was wearing tiny pajama shorts, which showed her smooth, silky legs. Her shirt was tight over her breasts and I had to summon all the willpower in me to look her in the eyes.

“Hi, baby.” she greeted me, throwing her arms around my neck. I wrapped my arms around her.

She smelled heavenly. I kissed her and tasted mint from where she just brushed her teeth. She allowed me in and I fought back a groan as she walked over to the couch. The shorts fit perfectly over her rounded arse. She sat down, pulling her laptop from the coffee table. I sat beside her, throwing an arm around her shoulders. I kissed her forehead, smelling her freshly washed hair.

“So, I wrote some of their first kiss in the novella.” she said, angling the screen so I could read.

“Fiona’s lips tenderly pressed to Callum’s. He responded with fervor as they embraced beneath the streetlamp. Her lips were sweet, tasting like her cotton-candy lip gloss and the delectable natural taste of her.”

“It’s good…” I told her, trying to calm myself down.

I looked everywhere but her. My body was reacting without my permission. I didn't want to come off like another randy sod like those frat boys who saw women as a means to an end. But she was like an overpowering presence casting an aura over me. Just the touch of her skin on mine overwhelmed me. She lay her head on my shoulder. I hugged her to me, hand lightly gripping her hip. Dear Christ, she made me feel like a teenager again, all hormones and begging to make bad decisions.

“Mmm…” she sighed happily. “You smell good.”

I felt her breath on my neck and heard her inhaling deeply.

“As do you…” I told her. “Like citrus and vanilla.”

“My body wash.” she replied.

That was another dangerous thought, her in the bath. I couldn’t help but picture her delighting in a hot shower, soap lathering her from neck to feet. I broke this perilous thought by remembering how I had slipped in the bath and sprained my arm my sophomore year of high school.

“Have papers to write…” Heather pouted. “Much rather make out with a hunky jock.”

She grinned, biting her lip.

I was a weak man. A very weak man when it came to her. If she were a siren and I were a sea captain, I’d have drowned by now.

I leaned my head down and our lips met. She moaned appreciatively, the sound traveling straight to my groin. Her taste was exhilarating, her plump lips velvety-soft against my own. Her hand traveled up my neck and her fingers weaved into my hair. Her body shifted so that her legs were in my lap, her arms around my neck. I glided my hand up her smooth legs, stopping at the knee.

She parted from the kiss first, looking in my eyes. Her own were dilated and her cheeks were flushed. She still had that coquettish smile. She was an angel, yes, but there was a subtle hint of playful desire.

“Feel like we need to…talk over some things.” I suggested, cringing at how the sentence sounded.

“Is something wrong?” she wondered, her smile faltering slightly.

“No, lass. You’re perfect.” I assured her. “I just…we’re obviously attracted to each other. I don’t want to cross any boundaries or do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

Her smile lit up her face once more. It was like a spell and I had to mirror it. I kissed her forehead once more.

“I do need to ask…” I started, not sure how to bring this up. “If you have any…past experiences with sex? I’m not judging or anything. I’m—”

She shut me up with a kiss. “No. I have no experience. Not for lack of trying. Guys just…weren’t into dating me.”

“That’s hard to believe.” I said honestly, caressing her face. “Beauty, brains, and an enchanting singing voice.”

“I was awkward as a teen. Band and choir geek. Acne, braces, overbearing mom. Awful at sports. Bit a wallflower.” she said. “What about you?”

“I was nerdy as well. I played football, but that's the extent of my coolness. I'm not a virgin. I’ve had a few girlfriends. Wasn’t anything serious though. Not like it feels with you.” I told her.

She kissed me once more and this time we didn’t stop. Her hands played in my hair and I tried to keep my hands below her thighs. Kissing her felt erotic in its own rite. The little mewls of pleasure she emitted sent tendrils of desire down my spine. Our tongues wrestled in her mouth and the kiss grew more passionate and frenzied. Unable to resist, I released her lips and painted kisses down her throat and up again. I lightly nipped her ear and she gasped in pleasure.

Before I knew it, she had repositioned herself, each knee on the other side of my lap. I groaned upon seeing her face. There was a feral, aroused glint in her eyes and she bit her swollen lip, staring at me like she wanted to eat me alive.

I'd let her.

“I know we’re going slow, but…there are some things we can do.” she suggested nervously. “Honestly, I might explode. You’re just so…sexy. It makes...parts of my body ache.”

“Fuck, lass…” I murmured, feeling light-headed.

All of my blood was heading south. The trackie bottoms hid nothing, my stiff cock bulging the fabric out. Her eyes seemed to follow my own and she turned a brilliant shade of pink. It wasn’t embarrassment, though. Her pupils were dilated and she was breathing heavily. She was definitely horny.

“I’ve heard of drying humping before.” she considered. “You think we could…?”

“Y-yeah, we can do that.” I answered. “Can I touch you, lass?”

“Yes.” she consented as our mouths crashed together once more.

My hands slid up her thighs. She scooted further up my lap and I gasped out loud as I felt her hot, covered center engulf me through my trousers. I formed my hands over her arse, marveling in the soft yet firm roundness of her cheeks. I squeezed each globe and she giggled.

“Your arse is a masterpiece, love.” I muttered against her lips.

She began to move, her hips undulating as she ground her pussy on my crotch. Her face buried into my neck and she gripped around my shoulders as her hips bucked. I couldn’t stop the long, contented moan of pleasure from leaving my mouth. My eyes rolled as she gyrated, her sweet angel moans filling the apartment. Her abundant wetness soaked through the layers of fabric. I longed to bury my fingers inside her and find the places that would make her fall apart. I wanted to taste her, to dive between her legs and lick her pussy until she screamed my name.

But that would have to wait. She was worth waiting for.

“Oh, you feel so bloody good, lass.” I whispered. “Does it feel good to you?”

“Yes…” she gasped. “So fucking good…”

HEATHER’S POV

His hands gripped my ass tighter as I moved my hips faster. I felt the heat of him through the fabric. I repositioned so that the head of his cock rubbed against my clit. He moaned appreciatively. His hands gripped my ass, guiding my motions as I ground myself against him. His hot breath and groans of pleasure in my ear were incredibly erotic.

“You're so wet…do I really make you this wet?” he asked.

“Yes!” I moaned in his ear, unbelievably turned by his dirty talk.

“Gods, you precious girl…you sound so sexy.”

“Mmmm, so do you. Oh, God…oh, I’m so close.”

“Ohhhh, lass. Want to feel you come.” he begged in my ear. “I want to see you come, darling. Come apart for me, love.”

It was even better than the fantasies.

I wailed uncontrollably, stifling my yells in his shoulder as the pleasure wave crested. I shook violently, coming hard against him, gripping his upper body. He followed me over the edge, hands gripping my hips as he shuddered through his own orgasm. Hot moisture flooded his pants. We rested like that for a few moments, catching our breath. I dismounted his lap and fell backward onto the couch.

“Need to clean myself up. Where’s your loo?” he asked.

“Mine is through my bedroom right there.” I said pointing at the leftmost door of the hallway.

I lay back as the happy, post-orgasmic bliss settled over me. When he came back out, he joined me on the couch. It was big enough that he could spoon me. I sighed as he hugged around me. I was so comfortable in his arms. We both fell into a doze. We didn’t know it until Trish’s gloating tone woke us up.

“I KNEEEEEW IT! Please tell me you didn’t fuck on the couch, though.” she accused us.

I sprang off the couch like it was electrified. Kiaran looked abashedly at Trish, scratching his head.

“We didn’t fuck on the couch.” I said, rolling my eyes. Hey, it was technically the truth. There was no bare flesh or fluids on the couch. “We just fell asleep. Jesus, it’s already 10?”

“I should go.” Kiaran murmured awkwardly. “I’ll see you tomorrow, lass.”

I smiled at him and he kissed me goodnight. I didn’t want him to go. I thought letting off a little steam would decrease my desire, but I only wanted him more. Not just sexually, but physically. I longed to hold him while sleeping.

“Night, sweetheart.” he bade me as he left the apartment.

I shuffled off to my room.

“Sooooo, when’s the wedding?” Trish started.

“Shut up!” I snapped as she cackled.

*

I woke up with my back aching and my head throbbing.

Oh, no.

I scrambled for my cellphone on the nightstand, unlocking it. Sure enough, the alert had sounded on my phone, flashing a blood droplet emoji along with a devil and a knife.

No wonder I had been so freakin’ horny. I had been ovulating. It was a really good thing we didn’t have sex, but this time of the month was hell.

I had atrocious periods. Even on birth control, they were borderline unbearable. Sure enough, as I was preparing for a shower, my sleep shorts looked like I had given birth to a demon during the night. As I showered, I let the hot water pound on my aching back but the cramps were not leaving without a fight.

I dressed in sweatpants, an oversized T-shirt, and my hoodie. I was horribly bloated and didn’t feel like wrestling into a pair of jeans. I exited my bedroom and Trish looked me up and down from the kitchen.

“Someone’s riding the Satan Rapids.” she said jokily. “Ibuprofen in the cabinet.”

“I need someone to walk on my back. And then shoot me.” I hissed, taking four ibuprofens with a handful of water from the sink.

The doorbell rang. I looked at Trish. She shrugged but also smirked. I opened the door to Kiaran, holding up a bag and a cardboard tote of three coffees.

“Morning, lass. I brought breakfast.” he said with a smile. “You alright?”

I forced a smile, ignoring the raging cramp that just had to choose that moment to sear across my belly. Men didn’t like hearing about PMS, though, so I tried my best to look cheerful. But Trish saw through that facade immediately.

“Nah, none of that ‘polite lady, nothing’s wrong’ bullshit. She’s on the rag.” Trish informed Kiaran.

I glared at her.

“Coffee and a danish for you as well.” Kiaran offered to Trish.

“Well, come on in, then.” Trish said, stepping aside.

She took the bag and coffees while Kiaran wrapped his arms around me. I sighed, my mood lifting as I inhaled his scent. He kissed my forehead.

“I’m sorry you’re not feeling well, lass.” he said, words echoing in his chest.

Embarrassingly, I felt the urge to cry. It was likely my hormones going haywire, but I also just never felt cared for as I did with Kiaran. We parted and went to have our breakfast. He had bought me a chocolate muffin, which I relished along with the cappuccino.

“Do you have classes today, lass?” Kiaran asked, finishing his coffee.

“No, but I’ll need to practice Chopin to film a check-in assignment for Music Theory.” I grimaced.

“We have an away game on Sunday against Pinehurst. Just hoping for a decent hotel. And I’ll miss you.” he said, holding my hand on the table.

I must have made a sappy face, because Trish stuck out her tongue, pretending to gag.

“Bleh, straight people romance.” she said, getting up. “Thanks for the coffee and danish. I have to go dom one of my clients at the gym. Toodles.”

“’Dom’?” Kiaran asked when she had left.

I blushed. “She’s a professional dominatrix. She makes bank with it, too.”

I thought back to my saucier dreams of Kiaran ordering me around. I wouldn’t want any of the extreme stuff like degradation or spanking. But that was fantasy and we haven’t even had sex yet. We weren’t doing that anytime soon. Just as I thought about my period, I felt a shooting pain in my vagina, like I was being electrified.

“Fuuuuuck…” I cried out, scrunching my body up, like it would help.

Lightning crotch. It was something pregnant women experienced, but I would also get these terrible spasms of pain during my period. I suspected it might be endometriosis, but I was a broke college student no longer on my mom’s health insurance.

“What’s wrong and how can I help?” he asked, getting out of his chair.

“Just something that happens. Feels like someone’s holding a Taser to my pussy.” I said through gritted teeth.

I could barely stand for the pain.

“Can I pick you up, lass?” he asked me.

I nodded “yes.” Effortlessly, he lifted me up in a bridal hold. I was in no mood to swoon. He carefully carried me into my bedroom, setting me gently on my bed.

“I have things to doooooo…” I groaned pathetically.

“Lass, you need to rest.” he told me. “My mam also had horrific periods. Do you have a heating pad or one of those water bottles?”

“Bottom drawer.” I grimaced.

He got up and went to the chest of drawers beside the small closet area.

Suddenly, I froze.

Nope, he couldn’t see what was in that drawer!

“Wait, I can get it—” I began, but it was too late and the cramps made me double over on the bed.

KIARAN’s POV

I immediately saw what she was embarrassed about. It was a slender purple vibrator. I blushed, fighting off the X-rated thoughts of her using it, and grabbed the heating pad. I unraveled the cord from around it, turning away from the bed, thinking of anything but her moaning in ecstasy as she pleasured herself. I definitely wasn’t imagining myself filling her up with my cock and teasing her clit with the vibrator.

Christ. I needed a cold shower and a priest.

I plugged in the heating pad and gave it to her. She pressed it over her pelvis, looking thoroughly miserable.

“Can I hold you, lass?” I offered.

She nodded and I lay down behind her, spooning against her. I immediately realized this was a bad idea because her arse immediately found my half-chub.

“Oh!” she gasped.

“I…sorry. My…body reacted to finding your…thing.” I explained lamely. “Which is perfectly normal. I just had some…explicit thoughts.”

God, I was a fucking daft bastard.

“I got it as a gift.” she explained. “Though I won’t lie and say I haven’t used it. Kind of hard to date a sexy jock without getting…excited.”

I could see the uplifted smirk on her mouth. God, she was a minx, even when she was feeling poorly.

“Pity we can’t do nothing now.” she pouted.

“Sweetheart, if you need pleasure, I can adapt.” I murmured into her ear. “Blood washes off. And orgasms would be good for your cramps.”

She giggled. “That’d make a mess though. Most guys are grossed out by periods. And vibrators. Something about ‘male pride,’ or whatever.”

“I spend days in locker rooms listening to jackarses talk about women like they hate them except when they’re randy.” I told her. “Periods are as natural as sex. Vibrators are definitely more appealing than finding my roommates’ unwashed fleshlight.”

“Eww!” she grimaced. “I feel disgusting on my period, though. Bloated, miserable, crabby.”

“You could never be disgusting, lass. You’re human. You’re bloody beautiful.”

“Well, I’m definitely bloody…” she joked and we both laughed.

I gently massaged her back and her lower belly. She sighed contentedly. I kissed the back of her neck.

“Oh, God…I need the bathroom.” she said, getting out of bed and hurrying to the loo.

She took her time in the bathroom. I looked around her room. I saw photos of Heather with a young girl who must be her sister. She only had one photo of a severe-looking woman with a classic Karen haircut. Heather had written Mommy Dearest in balloon letters. She must not get along with her too well. I viewed her music collection, including the hateful Chopin song on the music stand of her keyboard. The keys were well-worn from extensive practice.

She came out of the bathroom looking like she had fought a war.

“Don’t go in there for a bit. I lit a candle. Still think I’m not disgusting?” she said, getting back in bed.

I spooned behind her once more and kissed her cheek.

“When we were conditioning in the summer, one of the blokes had a cookout on the field. Turns out, he had left the meat sitting out a good while before grilling it. We all got food poisoning. Quite a few of them only vomited. I had the opposite issue. I’d never had a more miserable Sunday in my life, being trapped in a locker room toilet.” I told her. "Shit happens."

She smiled, turning over to face me. Her breath smelled like mint, meaning she must have brushed her teeth while she was in there.

“I’m lucky I met you.” she said, kissing me.

God, I already knew that I loved her. But it was way too soon to say something that drastic. I held her while she napped.

I wanted her for the rest of my life.