The Player - Part 3

When we left off, there was a scantily clad pro ball player laying in my bed drinking from a 12 pack of Blue Moon.  Heh.  I just wanted to say that.   I might say it again before the end of the post.  We joked around more.  He massaged me and I massaged him.  His ankle was swollen and so I rubbed his foot for him.  This led to a discussion about injury vs pain and I found it all a bit sad.  His body was strong and beautiful, but at the same time, it was torn the fuck up.  In that moment, he was vulnerable and I got to see another side of him.  The side that denied pain to keep bringing in a paycheck that not only allowed him to live above comfort, but helped his family out, as well.

Then, I don't know how it happened, but I was on top of him, kissing his stomach.  We all know what came next.  Head.  He was impressed with my ability and I was blown away by his.  I hadn't ever been with someone with this level of skill.  Definitely not a man.  Women pride themselves on knowing about the female anatomy, but I would swear this guy invented the female orgasm.  I don't know what it is.  Remember Train Guy??? He had nothing on this dude, except about 12 years.  I can't imagine how good this man will be in bed when he is 30.

We had to have a talk after he finished.  I needed to know how a man knows that.  I know that in order to give good head, I tune into a man, fully.  I feel when he gets harder, I listen to his moans, I feel his muscles tighten and I do the things that make all of those things happen.  He pretty much gave the same answer.  He said it's a connection.  It's the difference between sex and fuckin'.  We were on the same page.

After our discussion, I don't really know what happened next, but I was on my stomach and he was behind me.  He was so much stronger than me, it was unbelievable.  But in all of the force he was using to hold me down, it was just so that he could kiss the back of my neck, back and legs.  He didn't enter me again right then.  We kissed for a while and he laid me on my back and entered me missionary.  He was very gentle.  We fell asleep after giving each other head and having sex 3 times.  In the morning, we woke and had sex again.  Then we talked for about an hour and he was on his way.

He gets the name The Player for more than one reason.  The fact that he plays ball is only one detail of who he is.  In the end, I don't care that much about money or a name.  What happens in the restaurant, bar and bedroom are what matters to me.  I like that he has a passion and that he does what he loves, but the fact that it's football is really no different than Lewis loving his art or me loving what I do.  It's not his profession that makes him special, it's the passion he puts into it.

Okay, so, if I haven't told you before, I have a little trouble trusting the things men say.  That having been said, I like this man.  I don't really understand anything about him, though.  I know that he is good in bed and I know that we get each other on that level.  Maybe it's me, but I feel like he is trying to play me even though it's not necessary at all.  He told me things like "Your head is the best I have ever gotten" and "I haven't been with a woman in a long time."  He called me gorgeous and said my legs were perfect.  And he has said he wants to see me again.  He texts occasionally, but I don't get a Good Morning text anymore.  He now texts at night to say he is thinking about me.  It's only been a few days and I don't really know that any of this means anything.  He could be giving me lines.  Some guys like to feel like they are playing you even when you can't really be played.  Sometimes, the game is too much to give up.  Or, he could be being genuine and I could be misjudging his kind comments. I am not going to prejudged or come to any conclusions right now.  Or ... Maybe it's a little of both, but it really doesn't matter.  I like a good game, myself, on occasion.  So, I will see him again if the opportunity comes up.  But, I won't have any hard feelings if he moves on to the next lucky woman. Only time will tell.  Either way ... No harm. No foul.

Yes, I know that is a basketball term, but it fit.