So this is what it feels like to be obsessed with one person. Happy and sad at the same time.

Sad that I wasn’t fucking Kristi right now, but happy that soon I would see her again. Soon I would be with her. Kissing her. Eating her. Fucking her.

Long ago I’d come up with a rule: no sex the night before a game. It had never been a huge problem before. I had sex when I met women at parties, and there generally weren’t parties before games. We made up for it after. Boy, did we ever.

My rule now felt outdated. I didn’t need to go to a party to get laid, and whenever I woke up after spending time with Kristi, I had more energy and enthusiasm than ever. If anything, we should fuck right before the game. It would calm my nerves and help me focus. Instead, I’d have to go out there with heavy balls and a desire to get to the end of the damn game as soon as possible.

The problem with rules is they quickly developed into superstition. I’d never had sex the night before a game, and I’d won nearly every game I’d ever played. If I spent the night with Kristi and then lost, I’d blame myself for breaking the rule. I might even blame Kristi too.

Hey, I never said athletes were sensible.

Tomorrow’s game was only an exhibition match. The temptation was strong, so very strong. Unfortunately there was nothing run-of-the-mill about an exhibition game when you were determined to show everyone you were capable of being the team’s quarterback for the entire season. If I didn’t get the job done tomorrow, the team would rapidly lose confidence in me, and our season would be over before it had even started.

So no sex. Not until after the game. The second we were alone, Kristi would be getting a mouthful. And a pussyful.

My balls were already heavy when we started sexting. It started off innocent enough with Kristi telling me that she was in pajamas watching television, but within three messages I was describing how I was going to stick my tongue in her pussy while she came in my face.

Kristi’s replies had me going balls deep in her mouth as I sprayed my cum down her throat while she gagged on my cock. I couldn’t have written a better message myself. Going without sex for two years had obviously given her plenty of time to fantasize about what she wanted. Within a week, all those fantasies and more would come true, I would see to that.

I had to cut the messages short when Kristi sent me a picture of her fingers. They were wet, with a thin sliver of her pussy juices trailing between them. I almost came without even touching myself. The “no sex” rule extended to any kind of shooting my load, so for the first time ever I told a woman to stop sending me explicit photos.

Kristi let me know that she’d ‘taken care of herself,’ and we decided to call it a night. We were incapable of texting without getting down and dirty.

No sooner had the messages finished than my phone rang with a call from my sister. I considered ignoring it, but she would only call again in ten minutes, and then again, and again, and again…. May wasn’t great about giving others personal space.

“Hey sis,” I said, adding a fake yawn at the end. I planned to cut this conversation short; best to start getting the excuses in early.

“Hi Barton. The kids want to wish you good luck before they go to bed.”

I heard May calling the kids over and getting them both around the phone.

“Good luck, Uncle Barton,” they both said in unison.

“Thanks, boys. I’ll make sure to put on a good show. We want those autographs to be worth something.”

“What autographs?” May asked the boys.

“Never mind,” I added quickly. The boys scurried off and May took the phone off speaker.

“I know it’s only an exhibition game,” May said, “but it still seems surreal. College football was one thing, but this is the NFL. You’re going to be on national television.”

“I’ve been on television plenty of times before.”

“I know, but I never get used to it. Never will.”

“Are you trying to make me nervous?” I asked.

“Oh please, you never get nervous.”

“I might if you keep making a big deal out of it. Next thing you’ll be telling me how proud Mom and Dad would have been.”

“You don’t need me to tell you that, Barton. It’s true. They wouldn’t be surprised, mind you, but definitely proud. I might shed a tear when you step out on that field.”

“No, you won’t. You’re not a crier.”

“True, but I just think about how much it would have meant to Mom and Dad to see you out there and know that you’ve made it. It’s emotional.”

I never let myself think about it. You couldn’t; not really. If I went around imagining my parents were looking over me the entire time then… well, let’s just say I would have done things differently.

“Dad would have been excited,” I admitted. “But I doubt Mom would have even watched the game. She hated it.”

“Sure, but she would have been proud to see you make it, and even more proud that you’d finally settled down with a young lady.”

There it was. The real reason she called. May let the words hang out there, waiting for a reaction.

“Nice try, sis. Is this where I’m supposed to say ‘yeah, she’s awesome,’ and leave you with a nice warm and fuzzy feeling deep inside?”

“I suppose that’s too much to hope for.”

“Yeah, just a bit.”

“The boys told me all about her. She sounds lovely, and you clearly like her a lot.”

“You’re basing that on the words of a ten and eight year old?”

“They’re a handful, but they’re not stupid. They know what love looks like.”

Did they? I sure as hell didn’t.

“All they know about love is the picture perfect life that you and Lance lead. I’m never going to have that, sis, so you might as well give up that little dream now.”

“I just want my little brother to be happy,” May said defensively. “You can’t blame me for that.”

“I am happy. I’m playing professional football, and I can have any girl I want. It’s a power I’ve exercised on a regular basis, and will continue to do so.”

The thought seemed almost laughable. I couldn’t imagine sticking my dick in anyone else right now. What would be the point? It would be like eating tofu when there was steak available. Tofu could be decent enough if it was flavored properly, but it would never actually be like steak. Steak was irreplaceable.

May sighed, making no effort to hide her disappointment. “Will you promise me one thing?”

“What’s that?”

“Try not to hurt her. The boys loved her and she doesn’t sound like your usual type.”

“She’s not,” I admitted.

“Yeah, well that means she’s not used to your ways. I get that you want to have fun, but please think of other people for a change. When the time comes, let her down gently.”

I pictured Kristi’s face as I explained that I wasn’t the relationship type and that we had to stop fucking. Would she be angry, sad, or both? Probably both. I didn’t want to hurt her, but that wasn’t what caused the lump in my throat. Upsetting Kristi was one thing, but I’d also be upsetting myself.

I’d be upset if Kristi and I split up. That realization had me more terrified than any football game ever had.

I didn’t want to split up with Kristi.

That could mean only one thing.