Football Smut Collection

Paulo Dybala - Into It

Warnings: explicit sexual content, strong language, oral (female)

She collapsed on the couch, kicked her heels off and laid back. It was 5 in the morning and she was beyond exhausted. Of course she loved going to the mandatorial events with Paulo because she got to dress up pretty, visit the hairdresser, got her nails done, and in her line of work that wasn’t the most common thing.

Being a teacher, bouncing between 20 kids under 6 didn’t agree with nailpolish or designer shoes. She didn’t mind it of course but these times when he had to attend some kind of event, she was happy to be his plus one. It was a nice change from her usual routine. However, on the other hand, by the end of the night all she wanted was just get rid of the piece of hell cage on her feet that some dared calling shoes, lay down and sleep.

“Tired?” Paulo chuckled lightly as he hopped down, took her feet into his lap and massaged her aching part. She couldn’t help but moan in the back of her throat. His hands worked just as fine as his legs, she often joked about that.

“Been a long night.” She yawned, raising her arms above her head as she stretched. “But it was worth every horrible minute in those shoes,” she added with a mischievous little grin on her face.

“Is that so?” He asked with a raise of his eyebrow as he pressed the middle of her feet so hard she hissed quietly. He was pouting but she didn’t take it too seriously, she could see his eyes sparkle with amusement.

“Of course, watching you nearly tripping at the very first step on the stage is the highlight of my life.” She giggled and he grabbed her ankle and pulled her up to him. Like a ragdoll, she let herself fall back completely and grinned up at him.

“You cheeky little whitch.” He shook his head as he watched her and his tongue ran over his lips slowly. She followed the motion with her gaze, sucked her bottomlip between her teeth. Despite of the exhaustion she reacted as always. “Do you want to kiss as bad as I do right now?”

“I should go home,” she said quietly, the flush sneaking into her cheeks. She knew it wouldn’t be just a kiss, it was never just a kiss with him. From the very first moment they’d met at the even the club and a sponsor organized in the kindergarten she worked at, she’s been a wreck, an addict to every little kiss, every little touch he have her. Reason often disappeared like it wasn’t even an existing thing. Paulo Dybala was intoxicating and she was drowning in him but in the best way possible.

“Stay with me,” he whispered as he leant over her, his nose lightly brushed over her jaw, her head instinctively fell back slightly to give him more space. He glanced up at her, those devilis eyes sparkling with the hint of arrogance.

“I thought you said you wanted to kiss,” she said with a slightly breathy voice as his lips brushed down the side of her neck. Her skin tingled all over, her body turned hot and needy despite of her nearly half asleep state.

“Never said where.” He shrugged and pulled her dress off from her chest, her breasts spilling out. He wrapped his mouth around her left nipple first, flattened his tongue, sucked hard and made small circles. Her breathing hitched and she arched to him lightly. Her eyes closed for a moment as his warm mouth played with her. Her fingers lightly brushed over the back of his neck, slipped under his shirt, in desperate need to feel some skin herself.

“You’re the worst with loope holes,” she mumbled and he let go of her with a small pop of his lips. His fingers lightly pressed into her hips.

“Do you want me to stop? I can… I know you don’t like loopeholes.” He asked with a completely innocent face that really didn’t suit him on any level.