The Quarterback's Love Child (A Secret Baby Sports Romance Book 1)

The Quarterback’s Love Child

A Stepbrother Sports Secret Baby

By 

Stephanie Brother

© 2016 Stephanie Brother

All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters are all productions of the author's imagination.

Please note that this work is intended only for adults over the age of 18 and all characters represented as 18 or over.

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The Quarterback’s Child is a 28,000 word novelette, suitable for 18+ readers.

Author’s Note:

There are elements of abuse in this book. It is a dark love story, rather than a dark romance. It can be read as a standalone book or in conjunction with The Quarterback's Baby.

Disclaimer

The school, location and team in this book are figments of my imagination and are not meant to resemble any existing team or school. This book takes place somewhere in Montana.

The religious elements of the book are again, part of my imagination. They do not have any relation to any aspect of the Christian practices or beliefs.

About The Quarterback’s Love Child…

Carl

Every day I would see her at school. She used to be thin, not have any curves. And then one summer, her breasts made Playboy models appear flat-chested. I couldn’t get her off my mind. 

I kept thinking about taking her in so many nasty ways in class, in the yard and even in church. 

I went to confession, thinking that maybe it would help get rid of these desires. But it just made me want her even more. 

She told me that I could visit her whilst everyone was at choir practice. 

I went along, thinking that we could make some sweet harmony with our bodies while no one was at home. We did and I soon forgot about football as I snuck into her house every Thursday night.

Michelle

The quarterback, the one that was going to leave our small town behind. 

Looked at me. 

Talked to me. 

And then, he touched me. 

No kid in school wanted to talk to me, they were too scared about what could happen next. He didn’t care, he wanted me. I knew that if we got caught, if they found out the truth, that I would pay the price. I had been done once before and I didn’t care. Being with Carl was too special to me. 

He wanted to cool it off, for a while. 

Then we got caught and I was told that I was going to Hell. 

People think that it’s some place that you go to once you die. Not in my house. It was real. They made one for whenever I was bad. They had the Bible waiting and I was scared. I needed Carl to rescue me, before it was too late. I was scared that I would go insane like I nearly did once before.

Chapter One

Carl

I ended up in the place that I would go to whenever I needed to confess, when I felt that things were not going my way: Wednesday afternoon’s confession box at St. Teresa’s church. No one at school knew that I did it; what would they think of the quarterback heading into church confessing his sins, just because he’d lost a game?

My teammates would laugh. They would mock me all day and night long.

It was the way that my mom had brought me up. She prided herself on me being a good Christian boy. I was seen as part of the community, putting our small town on the map as I bent over backwards to make sure that I got a football scholarship to a good college. But, underneath it all, when I was on the field I was far from a Christian boy. The complete opposite, I felt as if demons possessed my body as I made a touchdown, each and every time. Going to church, confessing my sins, was the only way to deal with this turmoil that I lived with each and every day.

“Forgive me father, for I have sinned,” I blurted out, as the weight of it was heavy on my mind. It was normally one of two priests. I hoped that it was Father Patrick, the younger priest who had joined our church. I didn’t want it to be Father Roger, the one whose daughter I thought about every night. She was the reason that I was in the confession box.

“Confess your sins, son.”

I hated the fact that there was a supposed curtain that stopped us from revealing our identities. It was a lie, fake, to act as if neither of us knew who was on the other side. I had spoken to Father Roger enough times for him to recognize my voice. Stowe Peak was a small town, which meant that it was small enough for us to know each other in this parish.

“I have been having thoughts about a certain girl and…”

I waited as he cleared his throat. I wondered if he knew that the girl in question was his daughter. Mom had asked me if there was any reason for my bad performance on the field last week, and I lied and said no.

It hit me at school the following day; the reason for my bad performance was that I’d seen Michelle watching our game. That was the first time she had been in the stadium and I was distracted, I just couldn’t get my head in the game. Having her so near, but yet so far, made me have thoughts, the same ones that I had every night when I touched myself. We had started to talk, I had started to pay her attention. I could tell that she liked it, she had the kind of smile that automatically lit up her eyes when she spoke.

The same thoughts that I had when she entered the classroom. She was the untouched fruit, the cherry that every boy wanted to pick. Sometimes, I wondered if it was her baby blue eyes, or the fact that over the summer she had gone from being a stick insect to a blooming flower. I’d never noticed her breasts before, but one of the guys said that was because she never had any. Sometimes, I wondered if they’d locked her up during the summer. I hadn’t noticed how much Michelle had changed until now, and now I just couldn’t get her of my mind.

“Yes, son, continue.”

I didn’t want to continue. I started think of ways to get out of the confession box. This was too damn close for comfort.

I wanted to say, ‘Father Roger I want to stick it to your daughter so badly that she will have me crying for mercy!’

I started to get hard at the idea of her waiting for me outside in her bra and panties. Then I would strip her down, butt naked and we would fuck on the altar.

I had it bad, so damn bad, that I blurted out, “Sexual thoughts!”

I said it so loudly that I even surprised myself. Once again, Father Roger cleared his throat. I had watched him do it during his services a few times and I knew that it meant that he was as uncomfortable as I was about the topic. He did it the time Sandra Holt had accused her husband of cheating on her and had begged Father Roger to cleanse him in the middle of the service. He’d done the same thing that he was doing now. He’d cleared his throat and stroked his beard a few times. I wondered if that was him talking to God, if he was somehow transmitting a message through his beard. I shook my head at the idea of it all.

“Say ten Hail Mary’s every night before you sleep to prevent these thoughts and every morning when you wake.”

I sighed, the punishment was more or less the same every time.

“And Carl, maybe next time you have a game, make sure the person who is causing you to have such thoughts is not present.”

I kneeled with my mouth wide open.
He knew.

How did he know?

Mom?

I’d never told her.

Michelle?

I hated the fact that he knew. It meant that he would either punish me or, even worse her.

“Yes, Father,” I said as I left the box. I had a feeling that he wanted to talk to me as soon as I was outside, but I needed to cool down. The whole idea of not talking to Michelle again weighed heavy on my mind. The idea of not speaking to her was awful, when we had only just started to be friends.

Then again, if we were only friends, why did I think about her in ways that I hadn’t thought about any other girl?

Father Roger was right; my thoughts were impure and this was a distraction that I couldn’t afford at the moment. College was right around the corner and soon, Michelle and I would be apart. I could imagine Mom hearing about our friendship and saying that “Going to college will be a blessing, you don’t need girls to distract you.”

As far as she was concerned, I should breathe football, morning, noon and night.

I’d lied when I’d said to Father Roger that not thinking or even speaking to Michelle would be the best thing to do because, as I started to leave to head home, I thought of it as not a blessing, but a curse.

Chapter Two

Michelle

My parents were at choir practice. Carl told me at school today that Dad had warned him to stay away from me. I only went to one game. We had been talking, and no guy had ever paid attention to me.

Ten guesses why not?
Because my dad was Father Roger. Everyone had it in their head that if they went against him, then they would end up in hell or something. I used to think that too, until I became a teenager and saw a different side to him.

That’s a side that only Mom knows about, but she turned a blind eye to his behavior a long time ago.

I told Carl that I wanted to see him, and I knew that he felt the same way about me. Thursday night with them at choir practice felt like the perfect time for us to have our rendezvous. Not at school where everyone watched us like a hawk. I was sure that someone, maybe even Principal Hopkins, had told Dad about Carl and I talking on a regular basis.

I needed to talk to Carl, maybe even tell him the truth about me. Then the truth about my Dad.

I just didn’t know if I could trust him; the last guy I was with lied about his true feelings for me. He slept with me, and then claimed that it was all my doing and that he had never wanted to go all the way.
How did I know that Carl wouldn’t do the same?

As he tried to open the kitchen door, I hesitated to step forward and meet him. I was wearing my mom’s dress, not that her closet was much better than mine. It was just that mine had no skirts above the knee. And nothing that showed my arms, so summertime I was always sweating like a sinner in church. I had no dresses that emphasized my curves.

My breasts had completely changed after last summer and so had my figure. I felt different, like a woman in need. Not just emotionally, but physically too, and being with Carl had filled that gap and I wasn’t going to let anyone stop me, including my dad.

“Hey,” he whispered, “Coast is clear.”

There was something about doing things behind your parents’ back that made it even more thrilling, as if getting caught gave me such a rush. It shouldn’t, because I knew the consequences of getting caught. But, for some reason with Carl, I didn’t care.

I pressed my lips against his and I kissed him passionately, something that I had wanted to do since last month when he’d asked me if I was okay when I’d tripped down the stairs. That was the first time we had been so close and when our friendship began, but I didn't want to be friends. I wanted more.

I pulled back and sighed, “Sorry.” I didn’t mean to scare him. No guy had ever taken a risk for me. Carl had and I knew that he shouldn’t be here, and I was probably the last girl that he should be hanging out with. There were a dozen cheerleaders and popular girls all wanting to be with him.

His blue eyes shone as he smiled. “It’s okay. I like you too. I just thought that I would come inside the house first, before we kissed.”

We had exactly one hour and forty five minutes, but I couldn’t control myself. It was a hunger that was burning inside of me.

I laid awake at night thinking about this moment. The consequences that I would suffer if we got caught were minimal compared to the burning sensation in between my legs. My dad said that I should be a virgin until the day I got married. That Satan was giving me these wicked thoughts and that I should be cleansed like I had been before. But Satan wasn’t the one punishing me, he was.
If God was truly a God of love, then why would he allow my dad to inflict such pain on me?
The funny things was, the more time I spent listening to the word of the Lord, the more I started to lose my faith.

I wanted Carl and I knew from the way he was smiling that he wanted me too.

“Okay, let’s be quiet. We’ll go upstairs.”

He hesitated for a moment, “Where?”

I nodded, “To my room,” as I winked. That was another demonic action that my dad had said was wrong. Winking was a provocative action that only suggested one thing.

Sin.

I was an expert on sin. Maybe that was why all I ever wanted to do was commit it.

Chapter Three

Carl

I should have told her that I only came here to talk. That we shouldn’t be meeting, let alone going up to her bedroom. But my dick was hard, and it grew by the second as we crept up the stairs in silence. I wanted nothing more than to see her naked. Seeing her in her dress, fully clothed, just made my imagination go wild. I wanted to know what she looked like for real.

As she shut the door, she smiled, a wicked grin that let me know that she was mine for the taking. I didn’t need to ask for her permission.

In her rosy flowery dress that no one wore these days. Everyone wore shirts and pants or even shorts. Never Michelle, but today she looked the picture of perfection as she switched on the light and put my imaginings to an end.

“Wait.”

I wanted to be the one to strip her slowly and then stand with her in full view, naked. It was the first time that I’d questioned whether she was a virgin. Up until now, I had thought that she was one, but she started to smile, not shy at all about her nakedness.

She closed her eyes for a split second as her dress dropped to the floor. Her panties were pink and sat nicely around her hips. The virgin in me wanted to enter her, explore the wonders of her body, but that would be something that I would regret. I needed to take my time. I had everything ready in my pocket. The condom, the lube and my erect penis just wanted to enter her now.

“Do you like?” she licked her lips and I felt as if all my prayers had been answered the moment I unclasped her bra. Her erect nipples felt as if they sang my name as I touched them. Everything about her body told me that she wanted me just as much as I wanted her.

I stroked them delicately. Sure, I had been with other girls. I had pinched their breasts, even held them in my hands, but they were nothing compared to Michelle’s.

Hers were full, like a mother breastfeeding a child. They were ready to be sucked and I didn’t hesitate to lift them up and greedily stuff them in my mouth.

“Ahhh,” Michelle purred as I wrapped my tongue around her nipples and sucked on them. Sweet juices flowed out of them as I continued to move from one to the other. Then, I greedily tried to suck them both at the same time.

If this was heaven, I was in it right now. She took my hand and put it against her panties, which were soaking wet and dripping of sinful juice.

“Take me!” she growled, and the innocent in me started to act like a clumsy fool. I didn’t know what I was doing and it was so damn obvious. I felt inside my pocket for the condom that I had readily prepared, and I dropped her breasts, and held on to it for dear life. I picked her up and put her on the bed.

She laughed as I saw her vagina for the first time. It didn’t look sinful or wrong as we had been taught so many times by the church. It folded in such a way that seemed perfect. I touched it with my finger as I ripped the packet open with my teeth.

The moment my finger entered her, Michelle arched her back and moved like a snake on the bed. Seeing her react this way encouraged me to do it with another finger. This time she held on to the side of her bed and screamed through gritted teeth.

We knew that her parents weren't at home, but we still had to keep the noise down.

This time it was me asking the questions, wondering how much she was being turned on by what my finger was doing.

“Do you like this?”

I dug my finger deeper into her sweet folds. She squirmed, and cried, “Yes!” moving from side-to-side, not away from my finger but even more into it. The condom that I had kept between my teeth soon became forgotten as it dropped to the ground.

My dad had sneaked one to me when I’d turned eighteen, saying that if at any time I became tempted I should use one, but not to tell my mom. It had made me laugh at the time, the idea that I would tell her.

I stuck in another finger and I watched her breasts, looking as if they were dancing on the bed. I held onto her legs and opened them wide, I wanted to taste her, to see if the juices that came out of her pussy were just as sweet as the ones that were coming out of her breasts.

As soon as I bent down and replaced my fingers with my tongue, she screamed out louder, “Carl! Don’t stop.”

She didn’t have to say that, because that was the last thing I planned to do. My tongue smoothly moved around her pussy, not leaving a single part of it untouched. She tasted even better than I thought she would.

Sweeter.