Andrew Clark (The AthletexReader)

...the switchblade began to slow down until it pointed straight at Andrew Clark, who was sitting next to Claire. You watched as the athlete puffed up his chest upon seeing you as if to show how confident he was.


"Alrighty, Sporto!" Bender cheered. "This should be a piece of cake for you. Given you've gotten laid plenty of times."


Andrew rolled his eyes, ignoring the criminal's quips. The two of you walk over to the enclosed room where you would be spending Seven Minutes in Heaven.


"(Your name) and Sporto got seven minutes," Bender said. "Hope you can hold your load that long, Clark."


"Go to Hell, Bender!" Andrew said sharply, giving him a dirty look.


The jock grabbed the door and slammed it shut on Bender's smug face. He shook his head in irritation.


"Scumbag," he muttered.


"Sorry, what?" you asked.


"Not you," he apologized quickly. "Bender's just one big pain in the ass."


"Well...he did make detention pretty interesting today," you reply with a shrug.


"True. But just because he lives in here doesn't give him the right to be one."


The two of you are facing each other. You study the athlete that's standing there. While you had first seen him with his letterman jacket and his blue hoodie, they're long gone now. He's currently wearing a blue Nike (TM) tank top, revealing his chiseled frame and muscled arms. Around his neck hung a silver chain with a pendant that you couldn't exactly make out (a good luck charm, perhaps?). Behind the overconfidence of the athlete, you could see he was uncomfortable. His light blue eyes. His light brown hair that was neatly combed to the side. His cheeks were flushed (could it be due to his earlier anger at Bender?).


"So...you ever played this game before?" you decide to ask.


"A few times," he said. "Mostly at my friends' parties."


Wanting to find out a little more about his experience, you decide to use some metaphors with baseball.


"What's the furthest you've gone...in terms of bases?"


"Little personal, don't you think?" he said a bit uncomfortable.


"Well, if it helps put you at ease, I've gotten to second base," you said, knowing he liked some competition.


"Third base," he said.


You're actually surprised by this answer since you always assumed jocks were such horn dogs that had this unending desire to get laid.


"Huh. I always thought jocks were up to their hips in ladies, getting laid 24/7."


Andrew laughs. "Some do. I've told my friends that I've gotten laid, but it's mostly for show," he said. "They get pretty impressed when I make up a lot shit about it."


"So...why haven't you gone all the way?" you ask, tilting your head.


The tone changes as Andrew looks down at his shoes. He heaves a sigh.


"The truth is," he said seriously. "My old man thinks I should be focusing on winning tournaments than getting laid. He thinks dating is a waste of time and that I should stay focused on the next meet if and when a scout comes. They might offer me a full time scholarship to a great college. My old man said I'll have plenty of time to date once I'm at college."


He frowns as he mentions his father. You can tell there's a feeling of resentment with the athlete.


"Is that what you want?" you ask, leaning forward.


"Not really," he said. "I would like a chance to date now."


"Anyone in particular you like?"


He shook his head.


"Well, Sporto..." you tease. "Are you gonna show me those skills you have? Time's a-wastin'."


The athlete straightens up, clearing his throat.


"You've been hanging out with Bender WAY too much," he said. "Plus I barely know you."


"So? You said yourself that you've played this game a few times."


"Yea. Mostly the ones I've kissed were friends I knew."


"Well...we've been in detention for..." you say, pretending to look at an imaginary watch, then imitated a sarcastic version of Vernon. "Six hours and fifty-four minutes."


Andrew laughs at your imitation of the hated vice principal of Shermer High.


"Well, can't say this whole Saturday we've gotten to know each other better," Andrew said. "I suppose we can get passed the awkwardness and play the game."


He steps up to you, standing at 5'7'' to (your height). His white sneakers shuffle on the carpet as he stands in front of you. He leans forward and just as he is about to kiss you...


*ZAP!*


"OW!" you both exclaim.


You both realized that you got shocked from Andrew dragging his feet on the carpet. You laugh it off and proceed with the kiss. Andrew leans in, cupping his hands your head; his thumb brushes along your jawline. His nose is just inches away from yours. You gaze into his blue eyes with (your eye color).


Taking a breath, he plants a kiss on your lips. Given Andrew has experience, he is shy at first, then becomes more passionate. His tongue begins to tease your lips. You open your mouth to let him taste you. His fingers thread (your hair length and color) as he gets into the kiss.


You pull yourself closer to Andrew, wrapping your arms around him. You feel his muscles beneath his tank top as you press into him. His smell envelops you: soap, deodorant, and a tiny bit of some kind of aftershave.


He takes a break and moves to your neck, going down to the base and back up again; his breath tickles your skin. You can feel your jugular pulsing beneath. It sends goosebumps all over your skin. He returns back to your lips.


Your fingers comb through his soft hair, mussing it up as you continue kissing. You go for his neck, giving him some kisses, licks and nips. He lets out a sharp exhale at this as you go for his ear. You tease it with some licks and nips, making him shiver with pleasure.


His hands go down your back. He massages the small of your back for a moment before he cups your ass, giving it a quick squeeze.


His hands start to explore your body. Once he finds the hem of your shirt, his fingers caress your flesh. They feel rough and calloused due to playing sports, but they're gentle.


"OK, stud!" called Bender. "Time's UP!"


Bender opens the door to see the two of you locked in an embrace with Andrew's hand just a few inches up your shirt. He hoots and cheers. The two of you walk out of the room, greeted by the rest of your classmates.


"Alright, Sporto! Getting to second base!" he said. "Maybe next time, you'll hit a home run!"


"Dude, shut up!" he exclaimed, red in the face with a mixture of embarrassment and anger.


"Hey, man. Don't get your tights in a knot," Bender said.


"You wear tights?" you asked arching an eyebrow.


"No. I don't wear tights!" Andrew responded. "I wear the required uniform."


"Tights." Brian added.


"Shut up!"

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