Football Smut Collection

Paulo Dybala - The Ruthless And The Liar

Warnings: strong language, explicit sexual content

“God, I’m so proud of you,” she exlaimed at the very moment she opened the door and found Paulo standing there with a giant grin on his face. She couldn’t go to the match due to her exams but the tv had been on in the background while she’d been studying so she could follow the match. He’d really outdone himself, two assists and a giant goal from 20 meters. She was so overjoyed for him, she’d sent texts and some pictures with his jersey on her immediately so he’d have something nice to wait for him when the game had been finished.

“Yeah, the dozens messages and pics told so much.” He laughed as he pulled her into a kiss and they stumbled into her apartment. Paulo kicked the door close behind him and directed her towards the bedroom, not breaking the kiss for even a second. She moaned softly as she felt his bulge pressing against her stomach. Her nails caught the back of his neck before a thought cut through the haze and her hands slipped to his chest, pushing lightly.

“How is your abdoman though?” She asked, a concerned little frown appearing between her brows. She’d nearly gotten a heartattack when in the extra time he’d gotten kicked right in the stomach and fallen to the ground in agonizing pain. She’d seen him being hurt by fouls more times than she cared to count but this one had been seriously scary.

“It’s fine.” He shrugged, his hands slipping behind the back of her neck and his lips crashed against hers one more time as he pushed her back into the darkness of her bedroom.

“Are you sure?” She pulled away and stared up at her. She didn’t want to push it if he was in pain.

“100% certain.” He chuckled before he picked her up into his arms. “See?” He smirked down at her.

“I see.” She giggled before he dropped her on the bed and she bounced up and down lightly. He followed her and kissed her hungrily as he spread her legs and crawled between them.

After the matches there was always something urgent in everything he did, the adrenalin still high in his system, the desperation for the win soaking through his actions, it never failed to lend a some kind of extra edge to their times together, an edge she was always ready for.

Paulo wasn’t the only one riled up by the matches, far from it. She was his biggest fan and she could get just as much into the games as him. She lived every second of every minute like she was the one on the pitch and same as him, she always ended up beyond worked up, and ready for him.

He pulled her jersey up and she lifted her arms, the piece of clothes landed on the floor besides the bed. His fingers hooked into the hem of her panties just as his teeth sunk into her bottomlip and pulled in the same time as he pulled on the piece of fabric, hard enough to rip it off her. She hissed as he bit her, a shiver ran over her spine when the tear of the fabric echoed off the walls. Her juices pooled between her legs.

“I love how wet you get on match days,” he growled deep in his throat as he pushed two fingers into her and she lifted to him eagerly. Her hand slipped between them and under the hem of his jeans, taking a hold of his hardness. He groaned as her fingers wrapped around him and she started palming him in the same rhythm as his fingers moved in her wetness.

His hair tickled the side of her neck as he sucked the soft spot hard enough not only to lure a whimper out of her but also to mark her. It was going to be a spring scarf day again but she didn’t mind. There was something deep in her that loved being marked by him, loved walking around in the world with the light bruises and hickies he gave her.

“Fuck,” she panted as his thumb brushed over her swollen clit and she felt the pull in her stomach. She knew she’d come quickly, she always did during these times. She could touch herself in the hour while she waits for him to get to her place but she wanted him to have this, to feel how incredibly excited she was for him, physically as well.