tagInterracial LoveStatistically Speaking

Statistically Speaking

byxelliebabex©

Authors Note: This is a rewrite of my Fawc submission, so if it feels familiar it may be. The Fawc submission was not well done and hope for those of you who knew it that you will enjoy this version even more. ~ellie




"For once I'm as excited to get up in the morning as my cock is," Brent grinned and rolled over wrapping a hand around the waist of his long-time girlfriend as she tried to get out of bed after turning off the alarm.

Making a show of fighting him off Emily rolled her eyes. "Not everyone gets the day off to go to Sydney and watch grown men running around after a little ball," she said, trying to hide her smile, knowing what was coming.

"Geez Em, it's State of Origin tonight and those grown men running around with a ball are legendary. They are the best of the best Rugby League players that our state can offer!" Brent growled. "Besides, its tradition now, if we didn't go and watch their final training runs we might jinx them and then I would be letting down the whole state."

"So the legends shouldn't even bother training then. Just have you show up where they were going to train to ensure their victory and not worry about the actual game tonight," Emily finally escaped Brent's grasp and jumped out of the bed. "The Blues have a good team on paper, and they did win the last game in the series," she teased as she turned to scamper naked into the bathroom, wriggling her ass in an effort to frustrate him as much as her comments had.

Brent bounded from bed and grabbed her in a tight hold. "Sacrilege!" he bellowed, walking her backwards and forcing her against the wall, pinning her between his arms. "And luckily, we Maroons play on grass, not on paper." Emily gave him a challenging look, and he growled at her, bending his head to nibble at her ear and neck. She sighed knowing she was going to be late for work.

Brent's attentions sent her heart racing and Emily wrapped her hands around him and tilted her head enjoying the sensations of his lips upon the soft skin of her neck. She smiled to herself, knowing that at any minute he would shift his body ever so slightly and throw her back to the bed racing to pin her with a morning kiss and much more. When he shifted to look down upon her, he saw the wide green eyes dancing with the spark of excitement that was always so contagious and her lips parting softly as if begging for his kiss.

It was all he needed. Without a word, he picked her up his, muscles bunching as he hefted her twice and threw her the several feet to the bed. He followed her movement like beast of prey and pounced on her bouncing form, kissing her deeply. He leaned back and looked down at her again, a small smile playing over his lips. His hand came up to brush his fingertips over her cheek, down the side of her neck and over her shoulder teasing the sensitive, pale skin.

"Well," Emily wriggled against him. "Are you going to fuck me?"

"Maybe," Brent murmured huskily. "But considering you dissed my team and were about to get ready for work I didn't think you were so deserving," he teased her, even though they both knew he was about to do just that. His kiss was butterfly-soft at first, but he soon forced a little more pressure. Emily's lips opened slightly at the feel of the tip of his tongue gently teasing the tender flesh of her lower lip.

A soft moan escaped her lips. His fingers tightened around the back of her neck, and he pulled her body closer to his, deepening the kiss, leaving no doubt that he intended to make her exceedingly late for work. He wrapped his arms tightly around her; one across her shoulders and the other under the curve of her bottom, then rolled to his back, taking her with him in one fluid movement. Her bright green eyes widened in surprise at finding herself neatly planted atop him, her thighs splayed on either side of his hips. Rolling her hips she could feel the hard ridge of his big, black cock pressed into the soft flesh of her pink pussy.

Bracing her hands on either side of his head, she pushed herself up. Her tousled hair fell in a curtain across her face to tickle at his chest. A wicked grin spread across her lips as she lifted her hips a fraction of an inch and arched her back. She rolled her hips again, pressing her weight down onto his ebony shaft. She heard his breath hiss in through his clenched teeth, and she peeked at him through her lashes, and wiggled a little more, settling him more firmly into her moist folds.

Grinning at having affected him enough to hear a muffled groan and feeling his hands reach for her hips to still her movements, Emily became motionless. Having kept her still for several long moments Brent relaxed back and gazed up at her, a sinful smile on his face as one hand quickly left her hip and smacked her ass. As she yelped in surprise, he quickly pulled her back down on top of him and smacked her ass twice more.

"So tell me about this paper that says the Blues will win," he growled and swatted her twice more. "You book worms take too much from pieces of paper, nothing can replace the pride and determination of team spirit."

"Stats don't lie," she squealed as he smacked her again. The subtle warmth in her belly turned to licking flames, the sensation traveling down her inner thighs from the palm prints heating her ass.

His smile faded, his dark eyes bright with undisguised lust as she began to rotate her hips pressing down onto him again. Her eyes closed, and small white teeth glinted behind warm, pink lips as she bent to nibble his neck, paying particular attention to the tender spot just below his ear. She distantly registered his hands gliding over her hot flesh, to cup her ass. He lifted her slightly away from him so that she could feel his cock glide between the now-wet folds of her pussy. Sinking her teeth into his neck to distract him slightly she reached back and took his hands pulling them up above his head in the way he often pinned her to the bed. She knew she couldn't restrain him if he really wanted to be loose, but it excited her to have him at her mercy, if only for a short time.

Brent raised his eyebrow at her and smirked, and she leaned forward to lick over the bite mark she had left on his neck. She heard his soft moan and grinned to herself as she licked her way down his throat to his chest, nibbling here and there at the dark brown skin. Her tongue flicked out and gently teased his nipple knowing this would excite him. His hips insistently pushed up into her proving that she knew her man well, and a thrill ran through her when he finally broke free of her grasp, his hands moving to her rotating hips once more.

Enjoying being the tease she wriggled free of his hands once more and slid down the length of his body, pausing to nip the flat belly with her teeth. She was on her knees between his legs, running her hands up his thighs. Looking up at him, she lowered her head, stretching her mouth wide to take his cock into her mouth, never breaking eye contact.

His legs tensed, and his fingers twined in her hair. She smiled around him, running her tongue up the underside of his shaft. She felt his little shiver and slid her mouth back down on, taking as much of him as she could, feeling him press into the back of her throat. She gagged a little, the sensation bringing two small tears to her eyes.

Her left hand curved under his balls and cupped him, stroking with soft gentle fingers. She felt him pulsing on her lips, and she moved down, opening her mouth widely to accommodate his thick shaft. His fingers twined to the point of pain in her hair, his hips thrusting up trying to force more of his length into her mouth. She gaggag again, but she loved the taste of him and kept her head low devouring as much as she dared. She distantly heard him moan and she gave a small whimper in response. She felt her pussy clench and knew she wanted him inside her. She lifted her head and looked up to see his lust filled gaze upon her.

Brent decided she'd had her own way long enough and, pulling her by the hair that was wrapped around his fingers, he led her back up his body smiling at her small whimpers of pain and disappointment. With the grace of an athlete, he changed their positions pushing her down onto the bed and rearing up above her.



It was his turn to taste the sweetness of her pale skin, his tongue running down a similar path to the one Emily had traced on his body. He loved her breasts: the small, pale-pink nipples were short and puckered sweetly between his lips making her breasts rise into pointed mounds of flesh. His hands rested over each small mound, a stark contrast of colours, as he kissed his way down her body nipping the soft skin below her navel and rolling over her flat belly.

His hands spread her thighs wide and his teeth nibbled at the soft white flesh. He listened to her sigh in pleasure, the sound fuelling his own passion, hardening him to the point of discomfort. He placed extra pressure on her thighs and watched the lips of her pussy part in response. He leaned forward to flick his tongue lightly over what was, at that moment, the very centre of her being. The sinful grin curled his lips again as he felt the shock of pleasure ripple through her, making her thighs tremble and his cock pulse.



His lips closed over the tiny bud, and he began to whip it gently with his tongue. Her fingers threaded into his hair, pulling his mouth closer to her as her hips came off the bed to meet him. Her lips parted with soft whimpering pants and gasps. He ran his hand up her thigh and slowly pushed a finger inside her, first one then two, marvelling at how tight she always felt. She moaned, thrusting her hips upward once again onto the fingers and into his mouth. His tongue began to work at her faster, and he could feel her wetness begin to coat his hand. Her muscles tightened around his fingers, and he knew she was close to the edge of that abyss of pleasure that would wrack her body and leave her weak and trembling in his arms.

Pulling free of her grappling hands Brent rose above Emily again guiding his throbbing cock into her. She was so tight and he was so engorged, he slid in only a frustrating fraction at a time, and the excruciating slowness of his movements nearly sent him over the edge.

Finally, embedded in her to the hilt he felt her muscles grip him and a groan of pleasure rumbled from his throat as he began to fuck her hard and deep. He guided her legs up the length of his body from where they had wrapped around his hips essentially doubling her in half and watching her breath shorten even more as she cried out her need.

Emily dragged her fingernails down Brent's back enjoying the added grunts of pleasure he issued. He stiffened, moaning her name and, unable to hold back the tide, began arching harder into her, wanting her to come with him. He looked at the glazed eyes and wide panting mouth of the incredible girl he loved and cried out as he came. She matched him completely, and he felt the muscles around his cock pulse, milking the cum from him to mix with her own.

Brent collapsed beside her, allowing Emily to unfurl her legs and they both lay breathing raggedly for long minutes. Emily turned to look at him, leaning up on her elbow and smiling crookedly. She loved him, and while her family had been appalled when she started dating a black man, he only had to grin at her with his dimpled face and her knees went weak. He had a way of making even the most mundane tasks in life fun and though most of what he said dripped with sarcasm, his genuine humour and amiability made people laugh with him rather than be offended. What her family couldn't comprehend was that his family and friends thought the same about her, an uptight white upper-class girl. They were an odd couple to have found each other but what they had was incredible and as she gazed at him she knew he felt the same.

"Taking advantage of me like that has made me late," Brent smirked at her. "But I guess I can't blame you, I am a sexy beast!" He rolled out of bed and shook his ass at her as he strolled to the bathroom.

"Oh no, you don't," Emily yelped and jumped up, racing him for the bathroom. "I'm the one who's running late." After a brief tussle they showered together continuing to tease and stroke each other, Emily finally disengaging herself before she got too distracted, and left the bathroom wrapped in a towel.

Brent took his time, there was nothing better than having a sickie that your boss approved of. Admittedly he had asked weeks in advance, hinting strongly that he would be having the day off regardless of whether the boss let him or not. Realising he was lucky to work for such a good guy, he had stayed back to finish off the switchboard he had been wiring up the night before so it could be shipped today.

By the time Brent had finished showering and shaving Emily had dressed and done her hair and make-up, so practised was she in the morning rush. Checking her bag for everything she needed she hurried past his eager hands leaving a lipstick air kiss next to his cheek and ran from the room. "Have fun with the boys!" she called behind her as she disappeared through the front door.

She climbed into her car lamenting that he would be on a plane within an hour, and she could look forward to a quiet night alone. She wished again she could have taken the time from work to go to Sydney. Even a single night apart made her long for his presence, and she knew this time would be no different.

* * * *

Emily ran into the lift that would take her from the underground car park to the offices of Bennet Collins Ltd. She looked at her watch and prayed that her boss was at an early morning meeting, but as the lift doors opened she knew he was there. The receptionist gave her a look of dread and quietly she slipped through the main foyer and tried to make her way inconspicuously to her office.

Despite the all too frequent tirades of her boss, she loved her job. Hired straight out of university she had always loved the honesty of figures and statistics, they didn't lie. They allowed her to look critically at companies, government agencies and world politics and see the anomalies that spelt trouble for all concerned. In deficits and profits alike, there were patterns and trends and of her graduating class she had been the golden girl, finishing as dux of her year in both her chosen degrees.

As much as she loved the surety of statistics, they didn't apply to the creative arts. Writers, artists and musicians defied the laws of statistics at every turn, and while she had taken the second degree as a point of rebellion against her parents, who revelled in their intellectual status amongst friends and family, it had fascinated her equally that there was no rhyme or rhythm as to why something became a trend, a fad, a movement even in the creative arts.

It wasn't until meeting Brent and finding his irresistible belief that statistics meant nothing, that anything could change the course of a single event that she truly began to understand that statistics did not show the whole picture. Within the first week of meeting, he had made her watch the movie, The Butterfly Effect and make her admit that anything was possible regardless of her sure-fire statistics. She had finally begun to understand the ripple effect, through watching Brent and being with him.

Brent's love of life and firm belief that anything could happen at any time had captivated her. She had come from a conservative family with routine and schedule and knowing that everything was in its right place, and life could be so ordered that no unexpected surprises ever arose that could not be dealt with and tossed aside in an instant. So it was with her boss, he hated anything to be out of order in the office and being late was one of those anomalies he could not abide.

"Miss Tompkins?" The voice rang through the office suite.

"Yes, Mr Bennet," Emily replied, grateful it was not Mr Collins.

"Do you have those special statistics I ordered?" He said softly as he walked toward her. Seeing her nod he followed her to her office and took a seat to wait for her to bring them up on the dual screen monitors. Looking over the figures, Clive could see that the deciding game between the Blues and Maroons would be, in theory, to the Blues favour. Like the girl in front him though, Clive Bennet liked the chance factor anomalies placed in the rigid statistical studies that were the forte of his counterpart in the company.

"Factoring in anomalies?" Clive quizzed her further, and she grinned and clicked at the keys of her keyboard bringing up a totally different screen. Anomalies such as melee's, severe injuries and even streakers were considered and in each case the predicted winner trended toward the Blues.

On paper as she had told Brent that morning the Blues seem to be the team to beat in that night's game and the reason she knew was because of one of her bosses. Clive Bennet, had asked her to run a statistical analysis on the approaching game. Brent's words though had stayed with her, and before she knew it she had opened her mouth to speak, catching herself just in time.

"Go on say what's on your mind, young lady," Clive smiled indulgently.

"I just..." She swallowed loudly. "It's just that this isn't a typical football game. There are too many unknowns that we can put an anomaly value to."

"Oh? Like what?" Clive seemed genuinely intrigued.

"Pride," she answered easily. "Who wants to let down their state and the legendary players that have come before them?" She knew, in that moment, she had been listening to Brent for too many years about his love of the Maroons.

"Pride will only get you so far," Clive ventured. "If the skills aren't there to back it up, and going by these stats..."

"Team spirit then," Emily countered.

"So despite all of these statistics that you have diligently pulled together am I to believe by these unknown anomalies that you would still back the Maroons to win?" Clive smiled at the girl across from him.

"I would like to think there is an unknown I haven't counted that says they still could," Emily sighed realising the statistics they lived their life by in this office said otherwise.

Clive sat back in the chair and laughed uproariously. Emily didn't believe what she had said was so funny and became indignant, sitting up straighter and bringing her shoulders back about to launch into a stunning rebuttal of his laughter when he held up his hands in surrender before she had even begun.

"Finally!" Clive choked out between his laughter. "Someone willing to think beyond the obvious, factor in the unknowns and adjust their thinking to encompass them. People who try to put a numerical value on passion are fooling themselves!"

Emily looked at him quizzically, her rebuttal forgotten, she got caught up with his laughter, and grinned girlishly at the obvious praise.

"Plans for tonight?" Clive asked as his laughter finally subsided.

"No, I'm gonna curl up and watch the game and see if I can spot my boyfriend in the crowd," Emily replied honestly.

"You most certainly are not!" Clive exclaimed. "I'll give you binoculars to spot him in the crowd from our corporate box. I gave all the junior's the same data to pull yesterday, you're the only one with an iota of sense, so you win the trip to Sydney with me."

It took a few moments for Emily to understand what he was saying, and she blinked. "I won a trip? But, I couldn't go, I haven't packed or made arrangements or... could I seriously?"

"Of course you can. I have a meeting in Sydney in the morning you can sit in on that, as well. I'll need you for a meeting in about an hour then we will need to look at some plans for the meeting tomorrow, then we'll fly to Sydney. Trust me Emily, in so many ways you have exceeded my expectations today," he winked at her and walked from her office with a confident, jaunty stride.

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