Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. While it incorporates the names of real individuals, all events, characterizations, and actions depicted herein are entirely fictitious and do not reflect the actual behaviors, beliefs, or experiences of the persons mentioned. Any resemblance to real events or individuals, living or deceased, is purely coincidental. No intent to misrepresent, defame, or cause harm is implied, and this work should not be construed as an accurate portrayal of any real person.
Have you ever wondered what was happening while Chase was busy during the Post-Meet Fuck Fests? Now, you can find out!
This is what happens while Chase walks upstairs with Ashley.
The door had barely shut behind the last of the girls before Grace was in motion.
She didn't wait for an opening or an invitation--just walked right up to John with that lit-from-within smile of hers, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him like they were already alone. It was fast and needy, her mouth parting his, her body pressing close enough for him to feel the heat still rolling off her from the meet.
"I need you," she whispered against his lips, voice just loud enough for him to hear. "Right now."
He didn't question it. Just nodded and followed.
She tugged him by the hand up the stairs, past the thump of bass from the living room speakers, past the hallway chatter. The second she found an open bedroom, she pulled him inside and shut the door with a quiet click.
The light from the hallway crept in as she backed him up to the edge of the bed and started to undress him--slow, unhurried, like she'd been thinking about this since before the championship.
John reached for her shirt, but she shook her head.
"Not yet," she said, kneeling in front of him to pull down his pants. "I've been thinking about this for hours."
When she got his boxers off, she wrapped her hand around him and slowly licked up his shaft, eyes flicking up to meet his. She kissed the tip, then stood again and kissed him deeply, sliding out of her crop top and gym shorts with one motion.
Her body was flushed, glistening faintly from sweat. Her breasts bounced gently as she straddled him, only to guide him to lie back instead.
"Just lay there," she said with a soft smile, "and let me take care of you."
She swung a leg over his chest and settled above him, leaning forward to brace herself on the headboard. From his view below, she was stunning--brown ponytail falling forward, eyes squeezed shut, thighs flexing around his face.
John didn't hesitate. He pulled her hips down and buried his tongue between her folds, licking upward in slow, steady strokes. She gasped, biting her lip as her whole body arched forward.
"Fuck, John," she moaned, grinding just slightly against his face. "Right there."
She rode his mouth, hips rocking as he zeroed in on her clit. Her moans grew louder, hands pressing flat against the wall behind the bed. It didn't take long--maybe a minute, maybe less--before she clenched hard and gasped out his name in a high, shuddering cry.
When she finally lifted off him, she slid down his chest and kissed him hard.
"My turn," she whispered.
She reached between them, guided his cock to her entrance, and lowered herself slowly, both of them moaning as he filled her.
Their rhythm was natural. She moved slow at first, hands on his chest, then faster, leaning forward as he grabbed her hips and met her thrust for thrust. The room filled with wet sounds and soft gasps, and Grace never stopped watching his face.
When she felt him getting close, she pulled him tighter and whispered, "Inside. Please."
He groaned and held her in place as he came, his hips jerking up as she clenched around him, dragging out every pulse of his release.
Grace collapsed onto his chest, hair sticking to her damp back, both of them breathless and smiling.
"Best night of the season," she said softly, lips brushing his collarbone.
John just ran his hand down her back, nodding in agreement.
The music pulsed from the living room as Poppy danced through the hallway like she owned the place. She had changed out of her competition gear and into something that made heads turn--a glittery red bikini top and the tiniest red shorts imaginable.
She found Pete leaning against the wall near the kitchen, sipping water, trying to play it cool. He barely got the chance.
"Hey, hot stuff," she said, tugging his waistband with two fingers. "Feel like celebrating?"
He opened his mouth to answer, but she was already dragging him toward the nearest bedroom.
The door clicked shut behind them and Poppy spun around, pressing her back to the door. She leaned against it, hips swaying, arms up over her head.
"You've been looking at me all night," she said, stepping closer. "You gonna do something about it?"
Pete didn't need more prompting. He reached for her, but she stopped him with a finger on his chest.
"Strip," she whispered. "Let me watch."
He pulled off his shirt, then his jeans, as Poppy stepped in behind him and gently pushed him onto the edge of the bed.
She crawled into his lap, straddling him, lips ghosting over his without kissing. Her hands ran along his shoulders, down his chest, then lower, until she was rubbing him through his boxers.
"You're hard already?" she teased. "Good."
She peeled off her bikini top, breasts bouncing free, her skin shimmering under the bedroom's dim light. Pete reached for her but she caught his wrists and pinned them to the bed.
"Not yet."
She pulled his boxers down, letting his cock spring free. Then she wiggled out of her shorts, revealing that she hadn't worn anything underneath.
Now naked, she lined herself up, one hand on his chest, the other guiding him inside.
"Fuck," she breathed, sliding down slowly until he filled her completely. "You feel good."
She started to ride him--slow, rolling her hips, watching his face as he groaned. Then she picked up speed, slamming down harder, her ass bouncing against his thighs.
She leaned back, riding reverse cowgirl, putting on a show. Her short bob bounced with every thrust, and she tossed a glance over her shoulder.
"You like watching my ass bounce, don't you?"
Pete barely managed a moan in response, hands gripping her hips now.
"You better not cum yet," she said, breathless but grinning. "I'm just getting started."
She kept grinding, faster, deeper, using him. Her moans got sharper, higher.
When she felt him start to twitch inside her, she slammed down hard and stayed there.
"Do it," she moaned, twisting to look at him. "Cum in me, Pete. I want to feel it."
He let out a loud groan as he finished, gripping her tightly, filling her as she ground herself against him until she was gasping, climaxing right after him.
She stayed in his lap, catching her breath, chest rising and falling, then looked over her shoulder again.
"Damn. That was a good start."
The room buzzed with energy--music pulsing, laughter echoing, bodies already drifting toward dark corners and upstairs bedrooms. But MaKenna wasn't one to wait around.
She spotted Nate standing near the kitchen, drink in hand, eyes scanning the room like he didn't quite know where to start. That was all the opening she needed.
She walked straight up to him, still flushed from the meet, still in her gym shorts and knotted tank top. Her platinum braid swung over her shoulder as she leaned in.
"C'mon," she said with a smirk, grabbing his hand. "Let's not waste time."
He followed without question.
They dropped onto the couch in the corner of the living room--half in the open, half in the shadows. Some music thudded through the walls, but MaKenna was laser-focused. She slid to her knees in front of him and tugged his shorts down before he could say a word.
She licked the tip of his cock and wrapped her hand around the base. Nate groaned, head tipping back.
"I've been thinking about doing this since regionals," she said, mouth brushing against him. "Don't disappoint me."
He didn't--at first. She sucked him in slow, hands steady, building him up with practiced confidence. He got hard quickly. Too quickly.
Nate's breathing got heavy and his hand found the back of her head, but before she could fully get into a rhythm, he tugged her up.
"Let's fuck," he muttered, clearly ready to go.
MaKenna bit her lip and gave a small nod. She straddled him right there on the couch, pulling her shorts aside, guiding him in.
He gasped at the sensation, but MaKenna didn't close her eyes. She was focused--watching his reactions, waiting to feel something build.
But it didn't.
Nate thrust up into her a few times, fast and uncoordinated, gripping her hips too tight. MaKenna moved with him, trying to sync up, but her expression faltered.
It didn't take long--barely a minute--before Nate groaned and pulled her down hard onto him, finishing with a shaky breath.
"Shit," he muttered. "You're so tight."
MaKenna blinked. She hadn't even gotten close.
He leaned back, already softening, catching his breath.
"Uh... I'm gonna go grab a drink," he said, pulling his shorts back up.
She nodded, slowly sliding off of him, her thighs still spread slightly. Nate was already walking away, heading toward the sound of Maile laughing in the other room.
MaKenna sat there for a moment, lips pressed together, chest rising and falling.
"Cool," she whispered to herself.
She stood, adjusted her clothes, and disappeared down the hall. She already knew who she needed to find next.
Maile didn't bother easing into the night.
As the girls poured in, celebrating, hugging, glowing with victory, Maile was already scanning the room for the right kind of energy. It didn't take long for her eyes to land on Sean--leaning against the couch, beer in hand, watching the others with a smirk.
She sauntered up to him, still in her see-through white mesh crop top, her nipples unmistakably visible through the fabric. Her red thong peeked above her shorts, and her confidence was the loudest thing in the room.
"Hey, handsome," she said, placing a hand on his chest. "Wanna help me kick things off?"
Sean raised an eyebrow. "Right here?"
Maile grinned. "Why not?"
Before he could answer, she pulled off her top in one smooth motion, dropping it on the floor. Her bare chest drew immediate glances. She didn't care.
She pushed Sean backward onto the couch, climbed into his lap, and kissed him like they were already naked. Her hips rolled slowly against his growing bulge, teasing through layers of fabric.
"Take your pants off," she whispered into his mouth.
He didn't hesitate. Maile wiggled out of her shorts and thong while he kicked off his jeans. She hovered over him for a second, grinding against him, letting him feel her heat without giving in just yet.
