The roar from the crowd continued to ring in Stephen’s ears. His last-second winning score had sent the fans, his teammates, and his mind into an earth-spinning whirl that resonated still, two hours after the game had ended.  It was exhilarating to be responsible for helping with the win, but he dreaded the obligatory news conference after the game.  Stephen’s humble nature made reveling in others’ defeat and praising his own effort painful, so he often dodged the questions.  When he could not escape an interview, he dipped into his lexicon of sports cliches to explain why his on-field heroics were the result of a team effort, not his own.  Despite this, he knew that the reporters would twist his words and make him sound like a typical arrogant athlete.Stephen sneaked out the private entrance to the team locker room whenever he could to avoid the interviews, as was the case on this night.  He was successful in slipping away to his Escalade after a hot shower and quick bite of catered food.  The escape was a relief; he just wanted to get home.  The SUV’s radio hummed soft jazz and untangled the gnarled sounds of the game.  His anxiety was lifted and carried away on mellow notes cushioning the air.  Stephen began to believe he would be able to sleep through the night for the first time in days.  Worry always disrupted his sleep patterns before a big game.As he turned onto the driveway of his home, Stephen stretched a knowing smile across his face.  He should have known she would be waiting for him.  She always knew when he dodged the reporters after the game, but she was too tenacious a journalist to let him get away.  Tonya worked for the local paper as a sports writer.  She had made a career out of landing the exclusive stories, especially when Stephen was the centerpiece.  Stephen knew he would have to talk with her about the game and that she had every intention of getting the story.  Evasion was impossible.  This was his house afterall.

“You really thought you could sneak away without a single interview?” Tonya asked as Stephen exited his vehicle and hiked the steps to the porch.  He simply nodded and walked toward the porch swing where Tonya sat.  She wore a flowing sundress that rested just above her knees.  His eyes followed the curves of the material that touched her naked knee.  Down the lines of her legs to her bare feet, that pushed against the floor to sway the swing. The yellow tint of the porch bulb made her skin two-toned: bright at the high points of her muscles and bones, deep-dark where shadows enveloped her.

Stephen sat beside her and neither said a word.  They listened to the distant noise of the city.  Stephen lived for such tranquil moments, which is why he bought the house hidden behind ancient trees.  It was humble, just like Stephen.  Tonya broke the silence.  She moved to a standing position in front of Stephen.  Her eye shined with her smile as she pulled the first strap of the dress down her arm.  Her bare shoulder looked soft, inviting.  Stephen’s heart raced as the second strap slid down Tonya’s other shoulder.  She was so beautiful, so tempting.  She made it easy to forget that she was one of the despised journalists.  The dress slid down Tonya’s slender frame to the timber floor of the porch.  Her shape was a shadowed with the yellow-bulb behind her, but Stephen could see the curves of her breasts, the inward pinch of her waist, and the bend of her hips.  He felt his growing cock search for free space in his jeans.  He could wait no longer for Tonya’s touch.

Stephen reached forward and tugged Tonya’s waist, pulling her to him.  She leaned forward allowing Stephen to suck in a nipple.  His tongue circled the erect knob while his mouth softly sucked.  Tonya moaned and her body produced bumps on her skin. Tonya’s fingers loosened Stephen’s pants, slithered over the top, and dragged his pants to his ankles to free his rigid cock.  It bounced with each beat of his heart, waving at Tonya to come closer.  She positioned her knees at each side of Stephen’s hips.  The swing lurched forcing Tonya to grab the back of the seat for balance.  Stephen’s hands wrapped around her ass-cheeks and steadied her.  He helped her slide down his thick cock.  The swing undulated with each grind of her hips against him.  His mouth added wet warmth to Tonya’s shoulder sparking an increase in motion in her hips.  The chains that held up the swing squeaked with each surge.  Their bodies rushed with heat while they climaxed.  Tonya’s moans stirred Stephen; he came harder than he thought may have ever done before.  He pulled her tight against him.  Her body fit perfect against him and melted the sounds of the game crowd away.

Stephen would finally sleep all night.  Tonya turned the radio to the soft jazz station in their bedroom.  They would wait until morning to talk about the game.  Tonya was an extraordinary journalist and would get the story of her husband’s triumph on the field that all the other writers’ wanted.  Their love, however, was exclusive.

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