Three Strikes Ch. 11

Story Info
Donovan triggers an unexpected response from Shane.
7k words
4.62
9.7k
12

Part 11 of the 20 part series

Updated 06/09/2023
Created 08/12/2018
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

I woke up engulfed by a warm body with big strong arms wrapped tightly around me. I snuggled deeper into his side, it felt good waking up without a haze of regret and self loathing.

I wondered if we'd moved at all since coming down from our second, or was it third, round of love making (a nice term for him fucking my brains out). There was nothing sweet about what happened late in the night, it was hard, fast, and fucking fantastic. He was amazing in so many ways.

His body squeezed me like a boa constrictor as he shifted in his sleep and I didn't hate it. He didn't want me to go anywhere, that's what he told me before we fell asleep. He asked if he was going to wake up alone and I said no. If unbelieving, he asked again. I promised I wasn't going to run out like last time and that's when he wrapped himself around me like a chastity belt.

My heart did a double beat when I felt him hardens slightly against my backside. How? I wondered. The second round lasted forever, he wrecked me good. I almost had to tell him stop, that it was too much. I'd never experience anything like it before. He changed my body composition from solid to liquid goo, who was this guy?

The memory of last night, the way his brown eye bore into mine, had me ready for round three. I grinded my ass against him in hopes he'd wake up and spoon fuck me. Other then making him completely bone up, the only response I got for my efforts was a gentle neck nuzzle and a light snore against my back.

His hold on me had me pretty well stuck, except a small range of motion with one arm that was stuck by my hip. I was able to caress his hip and down the thigh he had wrapped over mine.

He was total perfection—solid, round, lightly furry in all of the right places, thick thighs, and a muscled ass. I'd never been with anyone like him and he drove me crazy with lust. It was really too bad he had a thing about his butt, it didn't look look like I'd get to be anywhere near it.

I really considered taking advantage of his unconscious state to have a little fun, but I decided against it. Something about respect.

If I can't have what I want (his ass) then I'd wake him up with a little morning surprise we'd mutually enjoy. I nudged him onto his back and straddled his hips. I waited for some kind of a response, but still nothing. I squirted lube onto my palm and stroked his steel rod until he was granite in my hand. I smiled when his hips started flexing and his head began turning side to side.

I adjusted myself until I felt his enlarged mushroom head against my sensitive and well used hole. It made me almost dizzy as I rocked back and forth; enjoying the tease of him gliding against my bud. Fuck, I was working myself into a frenzy on my sleeping boyfriend's steel rod.

As I let gravity pull me onto Shane's thick, concrete pole, I thought, 'I could wake him up, or...'

I closed my eyes and released an intense breath he impale my tenderness. I had one hand braced against his chest for stability while the other kept the hormones flowing by massaging my own erection. When my ass tickled against his groin, I threw my head back in ecstasy as I rocked my hips back and forth, knowing I was completely filled to the brim with Shane.

Shane.

He was a fucking beautiful beast. I rocked against him and I admired all of the things I couldn't take my eyes off of—his disheveled hair, the absurd amount of dark freckles that covered his body (the ones gingers get), his strong face, and his muscular body. I sped up my movements as the lust I felt overwhelmed my senses. He might have been asleep but he wasn't immune to what was happening. I wonder what he was imagining in that unconscious head of his. The way his breathing was labored and his fingers dug into my thighs made me think it wasn't a nightmare. I laughed to myself. I bet he's having the best wet dream ever, right now.

"Oh, fuck, Gordy," he mumbled as is head thrashed lightly to the side.

I looked down in disbelief that he called out that name. Gag me with a spoon. His eyes cracked open and with every bounce on his cock, he became more aware of his surroundings. The movie reel of emotion that flashed across his eyes was sexy and empowering—sleepiness, lust, confusion, and something else I couldn't quite figure out. When he finally got his bearings, he grabbed my hips and threw his head back as I continued to ride his dick.

"I'm close."

His eyes were hooded and his voice was deep and husky. I'd been riding on the edge for a while, ever since I started, actually. Shane started to thrust into my movements and I jerked myself faster, breathed harder, and moaned louder as I felt the heat in my belly start to tingle outward. Our movements became jerky and desperate as we tried to rush to pleasure. Shane said something or made a noise that sent me cascading over the edge and I shot my white-hot load everywhere.

As he thrusted one last time and unloaded himself deep into my body, Shane mumbled.

"Fuck. Fuck," he mumbled as he thrusted one last time, unloading himself for a third time.

I was still enjoying the feeling of him being buried deep inside of me when Shane broke the warm, post-orgasmic silence with his harsh tone.

"Don't ever do that again."

Surprised by his statement. I looked down, expecting to see him smirking or smiling, but instead, I saw total contempt. He sat up so we were face to face but before I could say anything, he nudged me off of him and quickly got off of the bed. It was hardly aggressive but it felt like I'd been emotionally slammed into a wall. He pulled the sheet off of the bed, wrapped it around his waist, and grabbed his clothes from the floor.

I was at a loss. I had no idea what was going on or what I'd done to upset him. Fuck, my heart was racing with worry.

"What's wrong? We just had a nice morning, now you're freaking out, and I don't know why."

He was almost to the bathroom when he turned around and narrowed his, hard as steel, eyes at me.

"A nice morning? Did it ever cross your mind that I might want to be conscious for this nice morning? Conscious when someone's fucking me?"

He held my gaze but I was so taken aback with surprise that I had no response. He went into the bathroom and I flinched when he slammed the door. I sat naked on the bed and stared at the bathroom door, trying to figure out what the hell was happening. Never in my life had I met someone who'd been upset about waking up with me riding their cock, with either my ass or mouth, until Shane.

I will still sitting on the bed in shock when I heard the shower start. I didn't know how long he'd be or what would happened when he finally came out so I got dressed and went to the kitchen. I was shaking as I pulled food out from the cupboards, I tried to steady myself but it was no use, my body was short circuiting from the intense confrontation minutes earlier. Along with coffee, I prepared orange juice, fruit, bagels, yogurt, and granola in a failed attempt to distract myself. I didn't even know if he was going to stay for breakfast. Should I wait in the room so I'm there when he walks out or give him space and stay in the kitchen?

I nervously walked up and down the stairs a few times while trying to decide what the right choice would be. I heard the shower turn off and, immediately, my heart started to race. It was by proximity that my decision was made. I was at the bottom of the stairs when I heard the bathroom door open so, obviously, I wasn't going to be waiting in my room. I rushed the rest of the way to the kitchen and tried to play it cool, like I hadn't spent the last fifteen minutes freaking out.

Moments later, Shane came down the stairs. It was almost scary looking at him. One minute his face is full of emotion and the next it's completely void, and I had no idea why. It was clear I did something wrong, but what?

"Coffee?" I nervously asked.

"Nah, I have to go to work."

"I thought you didn't have to work today?"

I knew I looked as confused as I felt. He barely looked at me as he spoke.

"I know, but there's things I need to get done. I have a big job I'm trying to get and need to impress the guy. I can't do that from here."

His tone was flat and emotionless, just like his face. He grabbed his keys from the table and walked to the door without sparing me a single glance.

"I'll talk to you later."

It sounded like an empty promise if I'd ever heard one, as he closed the door behind him. I found myself staring at the wrong side of the door in utter confusion. Of course after he left, I had a million things I wanted to say, sitting on the tip of my tongue.

I couldn't eat, the coffee didn't make me feel good, the shower didn't make me feel good, and getting ready for the day actually made me feel worse. I didn't know what I was getting ready for.

AARP!

I was supposed to go shopping with AARP. Their big family reunion was coming up and they needed a makeover. Perfect, I needed a distraction from whatever the fuck was happening.

*** *** *** ***

"Dammit, Mickey. Stay away from the plaid!"

I slapped his hand and forced him to return the shirt to the rack. All I'd ever seen them wear was plaid. There was no way I was going to let them buy more of it on my watch. The whole point of this trip was to upgrade their wardrobe.

He frowned at me.

"But I like plaid. It's slimming."

I tossed him a few other shirts for him to try on.

"There's a thousand other ways to look slimmer that also include looking younger. Plaid isn't one of those options."

I sent the guys to their fitting rooms with the last few items before we could wrap up the shopping trip. Despite the fact my mind wasn't one hundred percent focused, I still considered the trip a success and we'd already talked about a second trip before the arrival of winter. Fall and winter shopping was my favorite.

Mickey didn't want to buy too much because he was 'losing weight'. I had a suspicion it might've had something to do with Sammy, but I wasn't going to inquire, yet.

They all stepped out of their dressing rooms at the same time and each of them looked all sorts of fabulous—they all looked like hot, country club, sugar daddies (in the best sort of way). After I approved their new looks, they took turns buying their loot. We made our way out of the store and piled all of the bags into the back of my SUV.

"How about one last stop?" I asked as they all finished buckling themselves.

"What else could we possibly need? I bought more stuff than I have in years."

It was obvious David words spoke for the entire group by the way they nodded in agreement.

"Well, if you're going to kick some baseball butt at the reunion, you'll need to look the part. I was thinking we could stop by the sporting goods store and pick up some new duds."

"It depends. Are you playing with us?" Thomas asked.

"I assumed I didn't have a choice in the matter. Haven't you been bragging to your family that you have Donny Allerton on your team?"

"Hell, no. That's our sleeper card. We were planning on surprising the shit out of everyone. The look on their faces will be better if you're there in person. Plus, I doubt they'd believe us if you weren't standing in front of them."

"But, wouldn't that make it better? They'd think you're a group of old senile men and then, boom, a washed up college half-star shows up! They'd never know what hit them," I said.

'Because it would mean absolutely nothing', I thought to myself, regarding my nonexistent stardom.

"Maybe, but we still want to keep it a secret. Is Arby coming, also? We could sure use all of the muscle we can get since we're playing against my grandkids."

I didn't know what to say and all I managed was a strangled set of half words before I was able to form any sort of complete sentence, but by that point, my discomfort was obvious.

"I don't know, I haven't talked to him about it yet...and now, I don't know."

I felt their eyes locked on me, but I refused to acknowledge them unless absolutely necessary.

"That explains why you've been so mellow today," Jack stated, mostly to himself

"What's going on? Last week, you skipped out on us because you were too busy with him and now..."

"Honestly? I have no friggin' clue. He came over last night and stayed the night. Everything was god, better than good, it was great. This morning I thought I'd do a little something extra for him, so he woke up with me (I looked around to gage everyone's reaction before continuing) riding him and he totally freaked out. He showered, barely spoke to or looked at me, then left."

"What did he say?"

"He made it sound as if I'd raped him while he was unconscious. Like I'm the worst person for surprising him with morning sex."

"That's crazy. I'd die happy to wake up like that."

"Me, too," Mickey agreed with Jack, and Thomas nodded along also.

I know it, I wasn't crazy! Any normal, warm-blooded male would kill to wake up with something warm wrapped around his dick. Maybe Shane was a cold-blooded reptile or something.

"I don't know..." David sounded hesitant.

I heard the rest of the guys let out a collective sigh that implied they knew what was coming. The classic 'here we go again!'.

"Dr. David to rain on our parade," Mickey half joked. "Please, tell us why morning sex is bad for the psyche."

"I can't help it if I've spent my entire adult career as a physiatrist who specializes in traumatic experiences. Laugh all you want, but females aren't the only ones who suffer from sexual harassment or sexual abuse. It's just more acceptable for them to come forward."

I glanced at him through the rear view mirror and he must've noticed my confusion because he continued.

"All I'm saying is, you have no idea what his past was like. Waking up in the middle of a sexual act is usually a fantasy, unless it's your nightmare."

Internally, I rolled my eyes. There was no way big Shane suffered any kind of sexual trauma. He could probably bench press a whale...with one hand. But there was something bothering him and I needed to find out what it was.

We stopped at the sporting goods store and bought new white and black, pinstriped baseball pants and matching shirts. As I drove them back to the park where we'd all met in separate cars, they filled me in on when and where we'd meet for the reunions 'big surprise', as they called it. They were really starting to blow the whole thing out of proportion. I was the furthest thing from being a celebrity there was and I was sure their families were going to have them institutionalized by the end of the reunion.

I debated calling Shane, but decided I'd talk to him at practice since it was less than an hour away. I went home to change quickly with hopes to arrive at the park a few minutes early so I could watch him play...and over analyze everything that was happening.

*** *** *** ***

He didn't look at me during practice, or afterward for that matter. I know he knew I was there because he was looking everywhere except where I was. With a lot of effort I managed to corner him before he left the field.

"Did you want to come over tonight?"

I tried to sound casual, as though there wasn't a big issue between us. I knew people were watching and I didn't want to attract attention.

"Uh, probably not tonight."

I waited in vain for him to elaborate on his excuse, the explanation never came.

"Not even to talk?"

"I thought I made myself clear this morning. If you still don't know what's wrong then I don't know how to help you."

I couldn't help but be irritated by his words. He hadn't explained anything to me this morning. The only thing I could figure was that he was mad because he woke up to sex, but that didn't make sense!

"All of this because I tried to give you a nice surprise this morning? I'm fucking sorry. I'll never do anything so terrible, again."

I words were obviously laced with sarcasm as I waved my arms in disbelief.

"Goodnight, Donovan."

Shane's words were like venom to my system. He hadn't even finished saying my name when he turned and stormed off. I stood there in a mixture of my own anger, and panic that he was walking away for good and I didn't have a reason why.

*** *** *** ***

Sleep sucked, work sucked, and life sucked. I'd tried texting Shane a few times. You could say he responded but conversation was nearly impossible with the roadblocks he threw up. I called him a few times and once I even managed a ten minute conversation with him. Granted, seven of the ten minutes was an awkward silence and the rest was me asking him questions—how was your day (fine), why are you mad (I'm not, it's nothing), and would you please come over (sorry, need sleep. Maybe another night).

By Friday, I was angry. If he wanted to ignore me, fine. Two could play at that game. I wasn't going to text him or call him.

The DONNAS came over for our normal routine and it took them all of seven seconds to know something was disarray.

"Spill the beans Gordy, or you're gonna breakout, and Nelly will be the only happy one if that happens."

So, I told them every-fucking-thing, plus some. I needed to get my point across that Shane was a fucking asshole for no reason and I was the innocent victim who had no idea what was going on.

"Good riddance! I told you from the beginning he was no good for you," Sammy snapped.

Nick shot back.

"No you didn't! You were only upset because he was drooling over Gordy and not you. But I agree, he's messed up. He clearly has some sexual problems. I bet he's not even gay."

He was gay, I knew that much, but I wasn't about to turn away good trash talk.

"What are you going to do about tonight? We're all going out after the game, as in us and them. One of us has to wipe the loser's face into the dirt."

"You mean we have to wipe their faces in the dirt!" Allé corrected to Oliver's statement.

He waved him off. "Regardless, we're all going out tonight and that's the point."

"We'll just get Gordy super drunk then let the sparks fly."

Leave it to Nelly to pick the path with the most conflict. I looked around with shock when no one disagreed with him. In fact, everyone was smiling. I knew nothing good was going to come from being drunk around Shane. But for some reason there wasn't the usual balance between sane and insane in our little group.

*** *** *** ***

The game was not fun. I wasn't having fun and I doubted the others were either. We were playing under a metaphorical storm cloud and everyone felt the looming danger. Every time Shane and I were close together, the storm intensified until it was a lightning storm of eye daggers and harsh body language.

When he was at bat I almost walked him, twice, because my pitches were so wild with anger. I'm sure it looked like I was hurling them with intent to hit him—maybe I was.

I struck out once and almost took the head off of one of the heteros when I threw the bat out of anger.

Luckily everyone else played well enough and we managed to win by three so that was great, I guess. Shane and I avoided eye contact during the obligatory 'good game' line up, but I didn't care.

We agreed to meet at a mutual bar/club in an hour, then went home to change. I was hopeful Shane would bail since he was being really good at that. I was pulled from my daydream of magically avoiding Shane when Nick shoved a shot into my face.

12