I'd like to give a huge thanks to rnebular for again taking the time to edit what turned out to be a longer story and providing insightful suggestions, which improved the story. For the nitpickers, I'm aware Green Bay cheerleaders aren't as described, but took some creative license because I wanted to use them as the team in the story. Also, the one play that affects the story is based on an actual game that one player cost his team the game just as described here -- though it was an insignificant early season game. I'm quite familiar with the medical condition of the female main character because my wife has it. None of the plot is based on my wife or my marriage (though after my last child I was given the two choices), I wrote a 'what if' someone with my beautiful wife's condition went through the circumstances in this story. As always, I appreciate all the comments -- even the ones I do not agree with -- and hope you enjoy!
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Troy and Rose met when she ran into him -- literally -- while both were attending the University of Wisconsin. He was starting his third year of his journalism degree program, and was dressed in a suit because he had a job interview for a part-time job at one of the papers in town in between classes that day. As he stood in line at his favorite cafeteria, a taller blonde, with her nose in a book walked right into him, spilling her coffee all over him.
As the woman, who looked barely eighteen to Troy, was apologizing profusely, he couldn't help but notice how stunning she was. Bronze-tanned, long-blonde hair with no dark roots tied back in a ponytail, and under those glasses were the prettiest brown eyes he'd ever seen. She was wearing sweats with the school logo and a Bon Jovi shirt, unlike a lot of the trophy wives in training he'd see around school. Beautiful and real.
"Hi, I'm Troy," was his response to her rambling apology.
She paused, and gave him a contemplating look, which he grew quite familiar with, and then tentatively said, "Rose, but you need to get that treated or it will stain."
"It's fine, besides, I have a job interview in twenty minutes and not enough time to run home and change," Troy said waving his hand dismissively.
"Oh, shit," Rose exclaimed covering her mouth, "Look, I am so so sorry. I don't know what else to say."
"Obviously, they won't think I poured hot coffee on myself," Troy said with a chuckle. She laughed too, with a full toothed smile, revealing her dimples. "If it's bugging you that badly, how about you let me buy you coffee? I have the same break Wednesday, and will probably be back here. Will that ease your conscience?"
She smirked, shook her head and said, "Bye," before leaving.
A guy that Troy had seen around, but never really spoke to before approached him and said, "Forget it, man. She's way out of your league; out of anyone here's league."
Troy dismissed it as jealousy. He went to his interview, had a great anecdote about why his suit had a huge coffee stain which had the two ladies interviewing him in tears laughing, nailed his interview, and had a call on his cellphone that he got the job before he left campus. However, Rose was really who was in his mind: that dressed-down beauty with the prettiest eyes and smile. Wednesday seemed so far away at that point.
Troy was so anxious Wednesday, that he missed his one professor calling on him to respond to a question about media ethics. Like everything, he made a joke and laughed it off, and the professor smirked and winked. He was used to being the class clown, even when he was an all-star linebacker in high school. Humor was his crutch as well as his deflection and pick-up line source, especially when his foot was turned almost right around, ending his athletic career It also made him seem more confident than he really was -- especially with women.
After class, he almost debated not going to the cafeteria. In the end, he rationalized that he was letting that other guy's comments get to him. The worse thing that would happen would be that she wouldn't be there -- or there with her boyfriend. When he walked in and saw her smile and wave at him, his heart did a little jump.
They found a more isolated bench in the corner, and Troy let her talk about herself -- probing with questions. Rose Anne Peters was in her second year of a business degree, majoring in marketing. She had a younger sister, and divorced parents. She loved sports -- playing and watching -- but also reading: especially horror fiction.
"Well, Mr. Journalism," Rose said, nodding towards his textbook, "Is the interview over, or is there anything else you need to know before telling me something about you?"
"Why did you agree to meet me?" Troy asked, "You're too smart to not know the easing guilt thing was a line to spend time with you."
"Well, Troy, it did make me feel less guilty," Rose said with a shrug, "Believe it or not, I do hear a lot of lines. However, most guys are staring at my tits while doing it. You haven't ogled them once, and keep looking me in the eye."
Troy subconsciously couldn't help but glance at her chest after that comment. Rose was in sweats again, and a hockey jersey. Why didn't he notice before on her slender figure, her tits were huge -- at least a D-cup. He quickly went back to those eyes. "Well, obviously, you are unbelievably hot, but I needed to know if you're as beautiful or more on the inside before I start making vulgar comments about your boobs to pick you up."
She laughed and shook her head. "The last part was a joke -- obviously, but you are serious about getting to know the real me, aren't you? Well, Troy, I do have to get to class, but next time is my turn to learn all about you. I want to know if the inside is just as attractive as the outside before making vulgar comments about your cock." She winked and he nearly choked on his ice tea.
As she stood and took a step, Troy said, "Wait. Do you want to go to dinner sometime?"
Rose had that smirk again and said, "I think we better exchange numbers, and I'll only agree on two conditions. A: you're talking about you. B: we go dutch on our first date to somewhere with cheap, good, greasy burgers."
By Saturday night, they were already on their third date -- and Troy fell a bit behind on his schoolwork. The first night ended with a peck on the lips, that he was so nervous that he was almost trembling. Never, had he ever been that anxious on a date, but that night, with her hair and make-up on, Rose looked like someone out of a movie, almost too good to be true. After the second date, he felt more confident and deepened the kiss. They French-kissed until he needed to catch his breath. Rose giggled as she waved bye and went up to her apartment.
On Saturday night, their third date involved a picnic with supper from a food truck, and then a walk in the park after, where they rested on a bench and Troy immediately kissed her hard. She responded by kissing him back, and wrapping her hands around his neck. Troy took a chance and cupped her breast through her t-shirt.
Rose responded by pulling his hand off and breaking the kiss. "Wait..."
Troy thought he went too far, and was kicking himself in his head. He definitely wasn't looking for a quick fling anyway. However, Rose had that smirk, reached behind her back, under her shirt, and within seconds pulled her black lace bra out of her shirt's sleeve. She placed it inside her purse, leaned forward and said, "Okay..."
They kissed and Troy felt he was in heaven as he cupped her boobs through the light material of her shirt. They were as full and firm as he imagined, with huge nipples. She responded with a contented sigh when he slid a hand under her top to caress them skin on skin.
It was only when he tried to pull up the hem of her shirt when Rose broke the kiss and giggled, "Troy! Not here. Relax, plenty of time for that."
There ended up being no date on Sunday, as both realized they needed to catch up on schoolwork. Troy was distracted, and ended up calling her twice, each over an hour long.
On the last one, Sunday night, he could hear voices -- she had two female roommates. In a muffled voice, he could her Rose say, "Not now, talking with my boyfriend," and nothing could wipe the smirk away from his face.
Monday morning, Troy was contacted by his supervisor at the paper, a kind older man named Duncan, seeing if he wanted two tickets to the Green Bay Packers game that night. When he met Rose for coffee at what was now their unspoken usual time, he asked her to join him at the game.
Rose had a weird look on her face, one that Troy would never forget, and said she couldn't because she had to work. In all the things they've shared about each other, Rose never once mentioned having a job. She quickly changed the subject, which made Troy a little skeptical. He'd never had girlfriends cheat on him before -- usually either he or she ended it first -- but had several friends go through that. It was clear Rose was keeping something from him; it was hard to not think it was another man. He made a joke, to deflect, as usual, but inside he was starting to think everything with Rose might have been too good to be true.
Troy ended up taking his older brother, Jason, to the game who seemed excited for an 'approved' night away from his very pregnant wife, Lisa, expecting their first child. The seats weren't great, so Troy brought a pair of binoculars to watch the action. Halfway through the second quarter, Jason, who was feeling no pain after several beers, asked to borrow them.
"Holy shit, is that nice..." Jason said, "the blonde on the end has the nicest tits on the planet. And her legs...damn." He shoved them at Troy, who wasn't the type to ogle the cheerleaders, even when he was single.
Troy was still a straight man, and did appreciate a beautiful woman, so he glanced and nearly dropped the binoculars. The hot blonde Jason was drooling over was Rose, jumping and prancing on the sideline in her revealing cheerleading outfit. "I... know her. From school."
Jason snorted and took the binoculars back. "Maybe you do, but you have as little chance as the rest of us. A fine piece of tail like that is getting her pick from the millionaires on the field. Probably getting bent over by some black guy who'll cum all over those huge titties after."
"Don't talk about her like that, asshole," Troy snapped and snatched the binoculars back, nearly spilling his brother's beer.
"Holy shit, you do know her?" Jason said.
Troy sighed. "We met on campus -- we've gone out a few times."
"And she never told you she was an NFL cheerleader?" Jason shook his head frowning. "Sorry man, if you stood a chance, she'd tell you. Hopefully, you at least get a piece before she moves on to her next pro-baller."
