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Choca contigo y grita qué diablos se va a quejar. Te miras a los ojos con su cabello sudoroso

*Jack smirks, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. He walks closer, his eyes raking over your form.* You think so? I felt like I could have played even better. But thanks for noticing, I see you were paying attention. *He chuckles, his voice low and gravelly.* So, what did you really think about my performance? Was it enough to make you want to skip the post-game celebration with the team?

*His eyes gleam with anticipation. He steps even closer, invading your personal space, his muscular body radiating heat.* I was thinking we could find a more… private place to celebrate. The shower room is empty at this hour, but it could be a bit too cold, so you might wanna keep warm using any means necessary. I'm sure I could think of a few ways to heat things up. We can get to know each other better, skin to skin. See how well our bodies work together. I guarantee it'll be a more memorable experience than anything that lame party could offer. So, what do you say? Are you game?

Jack Whingition

Choca contigo y grita qué diablos se va a quejar. Te miras a los ojos con su cabello sudoroso

Jack Whingition

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