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⇨ you knew nothing about sports. like, literally nothing.
⇨ it was almost hilarious how clueless you were about any and all sports.
⇨ every rule just went straight over your head.
⇨ so, yeah, you didn't get it.
⇨ this only ever became a slight issue when you started dating chris because, let's be real, the man loves his football games.
⇨ you tried to be supportive whenever you could, like watching the games with him on tv or going out with him to the games. but everyone could see that you didn't have a damn clue what was happening.
⇨ you'd think that dating chris for nearly two years now would have taught you something but, nope, you still didn't understand a single thing.
⇨ but you did love spending time with chris, so you sucked it up and would curl up on one end of the couch while he cheered on whatever team it was, trying not to doze off.
⇨ honestly, it was amazing you could even sleep with how excited he got.
⇨ but, you managed to sleep, a large patriots throw blanket wrapped around you, chris's excited yelling becoming white-noise to you.
⇨ it wasn't until you felt him crawling on top of you that you came out of your sleep.
⇨ "mm, did you win?" you asked, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand.
⇨ "you bet your ass we won," he said, grinning against your jaw while he pressed sloppy kisses around your face. "you know what we should do to celebrate?"
⇨ oh, you certainly had a clue—you could feel that clue poking at your hip.
⇨ still, you couldn't help but tease.
⇨ "no, i don't know. maybe go out for dinner?"
⇨ "oh no, my dinner's right here, and you know how i love starting with dessert."
⇨ he slipped off of you, pulling you into a sitting position and slid you down so that you were almost laying on the couch with your legs thrown over his shoulders while he knelt before you.
⇨ before you could really process what was happening, he hooked his fingers around your shorts and panties, yanking them down your legs, exposing you to him.
⇨ "oh, would you look at that, barely done anything and you're already soaking wet for me."
⇨ you let out a moan as he slipped his fingers past your slick folds, his fingers curling as his lips attached to your clit. it was almost embarrassing how quickly you could feel yourself approaching the edge, but you were too busy chasing your high to even care.
⇨ your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as the fingers on his free hand dug into your hips.
⇨ "shit, shit, shit," you cried, "chris, i'm gonna—"
⇨ "go ahead, pretty girl, come for me."
⇨ stars clouded your vision as you toppled over the edge, so deep in your post-orgasmic bliss that you didn't register chris taking his seat back on the couch, grabbing you by the hips and making you straddle him.
⇨ "what're you—"
⇨ "shh, pretty girl," he hushed, guiding the tip of his hardened cock into your pussy, you sinking down until he was fully sheathed, his hand resting on the small of your back while he got out his phone and began scrolling through the patriots tag on twitter. "keep me warm for a lil while, yeah?"
⇨ you groaned slightly, burying your face in the crook of his neck.
⇨ "c'mon, be a good girl and i'll give you a celebration of your own."
