Commandment #10: "Thou shalt not covet...thy neighbor's wife..."
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I, Brent Walker, won the gene lottery when I was born but I wasn't one of those jerks that thought I had done something right. I knew that I was born on third base and wasn't there because I had hit a triple. I made sure to use my natural gifts to help other human beings and I never treated any group as inferior.
I say that I won the gene lottery because I'm smart, athletic, and good looking, and my parents were well off so I never lacked for any material things, and they were loving too so I always felt good emotionally. My parents also instilled the obligation to give back so I did at least two hundred hours of volunteer work a year every year since I turned sixteen.
As part of my athletic gifts I became a very good American football (not the world's football which we call "soccer') player. I got a scholarship to Stanford and was drafted in the third round of the NFL draft as a 6 foot 6 inch 245 pound tight end. I made the Pro Bowl my second year in the league.
So, you would think that at 23 years old that I had a perfect life. I did, except for one thing. I never had had a romantic relationship that lasted.
I really don't know for sure why I never had a relationship that lasted. My brother and best friends said that it is because I have weird/bad taste in women. Maybe they're right, but taste may also be something that you're born with. However, I don't think that weird/bad taste is the complete answer.
I never found any woman who I was passionate about. While I enjoyed sex (duh -- who doesn't) up until the meat of this tale I had never really had a completely toe-curling experience with a woman. I went through a stage when I was twenty one where I wondered if my lack of passion for a woman was because I was gay (even though I never had even the slightest attraction to another man) or I had an exceptionally low natural libido. By intellectually examining my situation I determined that neither was the case; but I still had no real explanation aside from the fact that I had never met, or at least had a relationship with, the right woman.
Then my view on things changed; when I met the wife of one of my NFL teammates.
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To provide a little background, the only teammate I ever had in High School, college, or the pros, who I hated is a wide receiver who was drafted in the first round of the same draft, by the same team, that I was drafted in and by. His name is Alvin Canon. He is the grandson of a Heisman Trophy winner (best college football player), and was fourth in the Heisman voting himself his junior year in college, after which he turned pro. He is 6 feet 2 inches tall and weighs 205 pounds and can run a 4.3 40 yard dash (that's really fast).
Alvin is one of those people who was born on third base but unlike me thought that he had hit a triple. He is arrogant, obnoxious, opinionated, and a narcissist. He is the opposite of a team player only concerned about his own statistics. He probably hates me as much as I hate him because I never worshipped at his shrine and because the quarterback liked throwing to me more than he did to Alvin so in Alvin's mind I was his competition -- not the other team.
Of course it would be the wife of the biggest asshole I ever played with who would be the first woman that I felt passionate about; and I could never figure out why.
Alicia Canon is both beautiful and built, but I have seen, and even dated, more beautiful and built women. She is smart -- a quality that I consider very desirable in a woman -- and not a narcissist, again both positives. However, from people who knew her, and from my inexpert opinion at the start of this tale, after a middling amount of exposure to her, I thought that her personality was lacking. Whatever her characteristics, however, there is something about her that just rings my chimes.
Unfortunately, apparently my reaction to Alicia was not as subtle as I thought that it was, even though I never told anyone about my lust. This was made clear when during the pre-season of my and Alvin's second year as pros we had a team party which included wives and significant others. I didn't have a date -- yet another time in my life without real female companionship.
Alicia appeared to be drunk, or at least feeling no pain, when she cornered me in a secluded part of the party's venue when I had just completed a conversation with one of my teammates and his girlfriend. Positioning herself between me and the main part of the festivities Alicia stuck one of her fingers into my chest and slurred "So, Big Brent, it seems that you've got the hots for me. Why is that?"
"Uh...Alicia...isn't it?" I tried to soft-pedal my response by trying to pretend that I wasn't sure what her name was even though I had called it out several times when masturbating in the previous week. She interrupted.
"Don't try and bullshit me, you know that my name is Alicia," she snapped, then hiccupped and smiled.
"Uh...well...uh...Alicia...uh, why do you...uh think that I...uh...have the hots for you?" I stammered. Once I was done stammering the thought flashed through my mind "Stanford would revoke my degree in Communication if they heard that inarticulate rambling."
"Cause you're always staring at my ass, tits, or face, that's why. If you're trying to hide it I'm surprised that you haven't invested in some mirrored sunglasses," she snickered.
"Uh...look, Alicia," I continued my stammer; "uh...I...apologize if I gave you that impression, but I'd never hit on someone else's wife."
"I didn't say that you'd hit on me -- I just said that you have the hots for me. Don't be coy, Big Brent; just admit that you want to fuck my brains out, and I'll leave you be," she grinned.
"Uh...Alicia...uh...I really don't know what you're talking about. I never told anyone that I want to have sex with you," I replied, suddenly realizing that I was profusely sweating.
"Again, you're twisting what I said; I said that you want to fuck me, not that you told anyone you did. You're too straight arrow for that. Admit it or I'll expose my tits right now," she laughed.
I don't know what a really cool dude would have done under those circumstances, but what I did was to dodge her and then to flat out run to the main part of the party venue. Since there were well over 100 people there I was able to blend into the crowd.
Before slinking out early, I saw one of the other players' wives who I knew to be friendly with Alicia. I went up to her and after a little small talk said "Karen, I'm a little worried about Alicia Canon. She seems to be really drunk and maybe even has alcohol poisoning."
Karen laughed. "You must be blind, Brent. Alicia never, ever, has more to drink than one glass of wine. Plus, I just saw her a few minutes ago and she was completely sober."
"Really?" I intelligently replied.
"Really," she laughed. Then she grabbed me by the arm and moved me a few paces and pointed. "Look, there she is and she's 100% with it."
She was pointing right at Alicia. To save face I said "Oh, is that Alicia Canon? I must have her confused with someone else because that's not who I meant."
"You really are blind," Karen chuckled, "if you don't recognize that body."
"Sorry," I uncomfortably replied starting to sweat again, "I think that I'll quit when I'm only slightly behind."
