Page 42 of Rookie Moves

Not that I’m complaining. It’s one beautiful dick, even though I only have porn to compare it to.

What would it be like to suck him into my mouth? Would my lips stretch around him? Would he feel strange against my tongue? All hot, hard heat.

What would he taste like?

Salty, I imagine. I’ve tasted my own cum when I got curious after staring at it pooling on my stomach one time, but would he taste different?

I swallow roughly, my mouth drying at the thought.

I think I could do it. Maybe I can ask him to teach me how he would like it. Talk me through step by step, praise me when I’m doing something he likes.

Still staring at the banana in my hand, my lips part, and I suck in a shaky breath. I raise the banana until it’s in front of me, the tip only inches away from my mouth. It’s not as wide as him, or as long, but it has a gentle curve to it that’s similar to his cock.

Before I can think twice about what the fuck I’m doing, I gently push the banana between my lips, making sure to keep my teeth clear from catching it. When I’ve taken an inch of the fruit, I hollow my cheeks and suck, using my tongue to tease the tip, like I would if it were Tyler.

My own cock stirs in my shorts, clearly loving the idea. I take another inch, then another, not wanting to force myself to deep-throat, but taking it back as deep as I feel comfortable with. I slowly pump the banana into my mouth, curling my tongue around it.

I pull it out until only my lips are wrapped around the tip, and then I hear someone clearing their throat.

I freeze. Lips still wrapped around the banana, I slowly turn my head toward the door, where Stassie is standing. Her cheeks are flushed a deep shade of pink, and she’s pressing her fingertips to her mouth, trying to shield her laughter, no doubt.

My eyes widen, and I drop the banana to the countertop like it’s burned me.

“It’s not what it looks like,” I say in a panic.

She giggles. “Colby, you don’t have to be embarrassed with me. It’s not exactly what I had in mind, but it works.”

The microwave pings, and I pick up the banana again, taking a large bite, and mumble, “I hate you.”

“Love you too. Now, be good!” she says, turning around and walking away. “I’ll bring you some pasta.”

“And a cookie,” I call after her.

I hear her laugh, and then the door closes behind her, and I’m left staring at the banana in my hand.

I guess I’ve figured out what I want the next topic of our lessons to be.

Taking Stassie’s advice, I skip going to the library and use the day to chill. Coach Vaughn has given us the day off to rest and recuperate before we hit training hard tomorrow, so I watch some TV on my laptop and demolish the pasta and cookie Stassie brings me when she gets back from her class.

After I’m showered and have gotten changed into some jeans and a henley, I pull on a hoodie and make the walk over to Tyler’s house. The nights are getting lighter now, and it’s a pretty mild night for early April.

I haven’t been to Tyler’s house before, but it would be hard to miss. There are people sitting on the porch with drinks in hand. The dull throb of music can be heard from the sidewalk every time someone opens the front door.

My hands begin to tremble with nerves. I know I’m not about to walk into a house full of strangers. Most of my teammates are bound to be inside, but it’s the sense of the unknown that comes with walking into a large group of people. I just want to blend in. Be able to enjoy myself without my spine being stiff, on edge for potential threats. All it would take is for someone to film me doing something stupid and post it on the internet for my future to start crumbling.

Would drinking out of a keg cost me a sponsor? I’m not even old enough to legally drink, not that others my age give a damn, but would teams see that as reckless and unacceptable and scratch my name off their wish list?

Shoving my hands into my pockets, I take a steadying breath and walk up the path and head inside. It isn’t as busy as the party I went to the other week, but it’s still busier than I’d like.

I search the room for Tyler, hoping that once I find him, I’ll be able to relax. There’s a group of guys in the living room playing a video game on the TV as girls sit around them, and some sit in their laps. I peer into every room until I find the kitchen.

“McKay! What can I get for you?”

I follow the voice and find someone I recognize from the football team standing next to the fridge. He holds the door open, revealing shelves stacked with bottles and cans.

“I, uh…” I swallow around my dry throat. “Do you have any soda?”

He crouches to examine the shelves, then hands over a can of soda when he straightens.